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pin-k-ink · 4 months ago

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OFF THE RECORD ⋆✦⋆ gojo satoru

synopsis ➸ you know gojo too well to believe he’s here for a quick fuck. he’s here for a favor—one you have no intention of granting. too bad he’s never been good at taking no for an answer.

tags ➸ implied former student/teacher relationship, slight age gap, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, mild dom/sub themes, power play, manipulation, daddy kink, mild objectification, dirty talking, semi-public/public sex, mention of past sexual encounters, implied blackmail (it’s really not as bad as you think)

wc ➸ 10.9k

The steamy tendrils still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the shower, toweling off with a contented sigh. Mornings like this—quiet, peaceful routines before diving headfirst into the chaotic world of jujutsu—were increasingly rare these days. So you tried to savor each precious moment while it lasted.

With the towel secured around your body, you padded toward the bedroom to get dressed for yet another long day at headquarters. However, the second you stepped over the threshold, the hairs along your nape instantly prickled upright. A presence. An unmistakable shift in the air currents that could only mean—

"Well, good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?"

You barely stifled the startled yelp as Gojo Satoru's cheerful baritone seemed to resonate from directly behind you. Whirling around, sure enough, there he was—all towering height, shredded muscle, and bright eyes glinting with clear amusement. How someone so powerful could also be so utterly shameless sometimes, you'd never know.

Doing your best to ignore the heat flooding your cheeks, you planted your hands on your hips in a stern facsimile of composure. "Satoru...what an unexpected surprise. Here I thought teachers were supposed to set good examples about respecting boundaries, not traipsing into former students' homes unannounced."

Rather than appear even remotely chagrined, Gojo simply chuckled and leaned back against your kitchen counter as if he owned the place. You watched in mild annoyance as his gaze slowly trailed up and down your towel-clad figure with undisguised appreciation.

"Hey now, no need for such icy formalities between us old friends," he chided, the barest hints of a smirk tugging at those infuriatingly full lips. "Besides, when have I ever cared about doing what's expected of me, hm? That's like...95% of my appeal, babe."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a resigned sigh and crossed the room to your closet, firmly squelching the instincts that urged you to yank the towel higher and more securely over your body. Gojo had seen—and thoroughly enjoyed—far more of you than this in the past. No sense getting flustered over his blazing regard now.

"Right, so does this impromptu visit have an actual purpose?" You shot him a pointed look over your shoulder as you fished out a crisp blouse and trousers to wear to HQ. "Or are you just being a pain as usual and raiding my fridge for a sugar fix again?"

You heard Gojo's low snort of amusement before his heavy footfalls sounded, clearly bringing him closer despite your protestations. "What can I say? Your kitchen is better stocked with sweets than most convenience stores. I can't help craving a little nibble now and then..."

The sultry undercurrent in his tone triggered a fresh blaze of heat along your nape. You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Gojo's stare boring into your ass as you bent to rifle through your bottom dresser drawer.

"But you're onto something with that other theory as well," he continued in a lower, more contemplative register. All traces of levity seemed to evaporate as his presence loomed larger behind you. "I did actually come to ask a favor of my very favorite former pupil. An important one that I wouldn't bother you about if the stakes weren't so high."

Curiosity and trepidation warred within your chest at the unexpected gravity clouding Gojo's usually buoyant candor. You instinctively straightened, clutching your clothes to your chest as you slowly turned to face him once more.

And just like that, the heated tension seemed to ratchet up several palpable notches as your eyes met and held in the claustrophobic space. Gojo's sculptured features had taken on a severe, intense edge—all sharp angles and tightly leashed power that instantly siphoned the breath from your lungs.

Suddenly, his earlier "playful" flirting and teasing manner seemed less like an act and more like a fragile facade barely containing his true tempestuous nature. You swallowed hard against the liquid lick of thrilling trepidation skating down your spine as Gojo maintained that weighty, piercing stare for several moments longer.

"...Is everything okay?" You finally managed in a hushed murmur, scarcely recognizing your own voice under the abrupt spell of Gojo's domineering energy. "What could possibly have you riled up enough to ditch the flippant act?"

Rather than immediately answering, Gojo closed the remaining distance between you with two long, purposeful strides. You had to crane your head back slightly to maintain eye contact as his powerful silhouette utterly consumed your space—the scalding brand of his body heat and crisp, masculine scent enveloping you from all sides.

"Believe me, kitten...if I came here for anything even remotely fun or pleasure-oriented, you wouldn't need to ask," he rumbled at last, voice pitched low enough to instill a full-body shiver along your nerves.

One of Gojo's large hands came up, and you froze as the rough pads of his knuckles grazed a feather-light caress along the line of your jaw. His thumb swiped over the seam of your lower lip in an utterly artless, possessive sweep—smoldering gaze following the motion with incendiary focus.

"I'd already have that smart mouth wrapped around my cock doing something far more useful than talking..."

Despite the crudity of his words, you couldn't quite stifle the punched-out whimper that slipped free at the graphic implication. Gojo's pupils blew fractionally wider in answer, tongue darting out to lave his lower lip as if tasting the charged undercurrents now rippling between you.

"Lucky for you, this is actually about business," he continued in that same resonant timbre that seemed to spark straight between your thighs each time his rich cadence washed over you. "The kind of serious business that even a lazy pervert like me can't afford...distractions for at the moment, got it?"

You managed a jerky nod, too disoriented by the heady spiral of desire cloying at your senses to do much else. Gojo's expression seemed to tighten further—a muscle feathering in his chiseled jaw as if steeling himself for whatever came next as he stepped back a bit.

"Itadori Yuji is scheduled for execution..." The blunt statement punched out like a missile deployment, brutally shredding the increasingly rapacious atmosphere between you. "And one way or another, I need that sentence postponed before it's too late."

You immediately shook your head, mouth set in a grim line. "Postponing Itadori Yuji's execution? That's not going to happen, Satoru."

His brows pinched slightly at your blunt refusal. "This is serious, kitten. That kid is instrumental to—"

"Don't you think I know how serious this is?" you cut him off, firming your voice into an authoritative tone. "I work directly under the higher-ups, remember? I'm well aware of the situation with Sukuna’s vessel and the potential ramifications of his continued existence."

Squaring your shoulders, you leveled Gojo with an unwavering stare. "My answer is final. Bringing this to the elders would be pointless at best, and could potentially jeopardize my position if they see it as insubordination. I'm not sacrificing everything I've worked for just because you showed up and gave me those stupid puppy dog eyes."

Rather than back down, Gojo simply regarded you with a contemplative tilt of his head—bright gaze assessing as if turning over your words from every possible angle. You could practically see the gears turning behind those piercing blue irises as he recalibrated his approach.

"Okay, let's table the business side of things for now," he said at last, tone losing some of its previous urgency. Straightening his body, Gojo prowled a step closer—effectively reclaiming the charged atmosphere from earlier. "Maybe you just need some...persuading to see reason."

You refused to be baited so easily, keeping your expression coolly neutral even as his scalding presence flooded your personal space once more. "I'm not some hormonal teenager letting her heart sway business decisions anymore, Satoru. Those games won't work."

Gojo hummed softly in response, head cocking as his lips curved into a slow, molten smirk. "We'll see about that..."

Without warning, his hands clamped down on your hips, thumbs digging in with delicious friction as he hauled you flush against the solid wall of his torso. You couldn't withhold the tiny gasp that punched free at the sudden, searing contact—every ridge and cording muscle of Gojo's powerful physique branding itself against your towel-clad frame.

"Does this position feel...familiar to you at all, gorgeous?" he murmured in a honeyed rasp right against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed a path along your jaw as he dipped to mouth steamy, lingering kisses down the fragrant column of your throat. "Maybe sparks a few memories of the last time you found yourself pinned underneath me...crying out for more the whole night through?"

A shudder rippled down your spine at the crude allusion to your long-ago graduation celebration with Gojo. You remembered that encounter vividly—every slick rasp of skin against skin, the sweltering tangle of limbs, the exquisite ache of being split open on his thick cock over and over until the entire room reeked of your joined passion.

Gojo merely chuckled at your flustered squirming, nosing aside the collar of your towel to lave a heated path along your collarbone. "Mmm...that's right. There were points that night where I had my cock buried so fuckin' deep in this perfect pussy of yours that you could taste it on the back of your tongue with every breath."

You bit back a shuddering whimper at the crude imagery, willpower rapidly crumbling beneath his carnal onslaught. Despite your best efforts, the memories he so skillfully stoked were stoking liquid tendrils of arousal thrumming to life between your thighs. Gojo's grin stretched wider as you unconsciously arched into his scorching frame.

"Always did love ruining you on my dick that first time," he rumbled with blatant gratification against your heated skin. "Watching those gorgeous eyes glaze over while I split you open again and again until you passed out..."

Abruptly, Gojo detached his mouth from the thundering pulse at your jugular with one final lingering sweep of his sinful tongue. Smirking down at your glazed, panting expression, he tucked an errant lock of hair behind your ear.

"But hey...while fun memories are nice, I'd rather make some new ones together after work," he said, suddenly all casual nonchalance once more as he meandered towards the door. "I'll pick you up from HQ when your shift is over and we can...discuss this Itadori thing some more in private. That sound good to you, babe?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to reassemble your scattered thoughts as the searing proximity of Gojo's presence withdrew—leaving you bereft and utterly unbalanced by the shift.

"Don't worry your pretty head over giving me an answer," Gojo called over his shoulder as he palmed the doorknob. "I already know you'll say yes when I remind you again how much that tight little pussy loves being split open on my—"

The door snapped shut with a hollow thud, cutting off the rest of his filthy promise. Though the last rakish wink he slanted your way before departing was more than enough to sear the implication deep into your psyche.

Sinking heavily back against the wall, you fought to regain your equilibrium—limbs quaking and breath escaping in ragged pants that did nothing to dissuade the rising tide of feverish arousal still gripping your core. Gojo had utterly unraveled you into a breathless, squirming mess from just a few suggestive caresses and searing endearments.

And despite your best efforts, you got the gnawing suspicion he'd made up his mind to thoroughly capitalize on—and ruthlessly extend—that molten state when you inevitably saw him again tonight.

The long hours crept by at an agonizing pace as you tried to focus on your duties at headquarters. But the memory of Gojo's heated presence that morning, his crude allusions to your long-ago passionate tryst, made it utterly impossible to concentrate.

You vividly recalled the way his powerful frame had caged you against the wall, face nuzzling along your flushed throat as that rich, smoky timbre painted filthy promises about thoroughly splitting you open again soon. Just the phantom whisper of Gojo's searing lips tracing your thundering pulse was enough to catalyze wild tremors of molten arousal deep in your core.

Each time you shifted in your seat or bent over the piles of paperwork, you could've sworn a delirious ache throbbed between your thighs—muscles fluttering with unbearable emptiness. Like they instinctively yearned to be stretched taut around the thick, punishing girth of Gojo's cock once more, just like that rapturous night of your graduation celebration.

The explicit images and flashes of sensation made concentrating an exercise in futility. Only your rigid adherence to professionalism and composure prevented you from squirming like an utter harlot right there in front of your subordinates.

By the time the evening hours finally rolled around, you felt strung as taut as a high wire—electrified nerves screaming for any sort of reprieve from Gojo's lingering psychic imprint. So you hastily packed your bags and paperwork, determined to slip out before he had a chance to accost you again.

However, the second you passed through the main entrance gates, a powerful hand shot out to clamp around your bicep in an authoritative grip. You barely contained the strangled gasp as Gojo's sheer masculine presence enveloped you, dragging you into the shadowed seclusion of a nearby alcove.

The cool stone bit into your back as he firmly levered your wrists overhead, utterly pinning you in place with his hulking silhouette. Gojo's piercing blue eyes glinted in the dim light, scorching a path down your disheveled figure with undisguised intent.

"Leaving so soon?" The deep, resonant timbre of his voice washed over you in smoky tendrils, already catalyzing a fresh blaze of arousal in your veins. "And here I was looking forward to picking up where we left off earlier..."

To emphasize his point, Gojo surged forward until every inch of his powerful frame molded against yours in a delicious, searing brand. You whimpered softly as his weight pinned you fully, feeling the unmistakable rigid line of his erection notching against your lower belly.

Gojo ducked his head with a low rumble of approval, searing lips and tongue mapping a scorching path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. You instinctively tilted your head aside to grant him better access, shuddering helplessly as he indulged in long, openmouthed draughts of your scent and flushed skin.

"F-Fuck...Satoru, not here!" The words emerged in a reedy, breathless whine against your better judgment as his wicked mouth found that sensitive bundle of nerves just below your ear. You writhed beneath the slow torment with increasing desperation. "Anyone could catch us...this is crazy!"

Rather than immediately address your token protests, Gojo merely chuckled—the warm puffs of his amusement ghosting deliciously along your tingling nerves as he mouthed a stinging graze against your racing pulse. One of his large, calloused palms slid down to engulf your hip in a possessive squeeze, already kneading and grinding you in a slow simmer of friction.

"You say that like you've never been desperate enough to beg me to fuck you right here in these hallways before..." The low, sensually-charged growl shivered your bones down to the marrow. Gojo finally pulled back enough to cage your dazed features fully within his piercing stare—lips curved in a lascivious smirk of fond reminiscence. "Multiple times, if I'm recalling correctly."

Heat flared through your cheeks as the graphic imagery took shape against your fraying resistance—lurid memories of breathless encounters where the thrill of potentially being caught by patrolling sentries only fueled the delirious flames higher. You swallowed hard against the thickness now cloying your throat, squirming in feeble denial.

Gojo's smirk deepened into something utterly sinful as he drank in your expression with clear relish. "Do you need me to refresh your memory about the last time you had me backed into a supply closet?" he rasped, leaning in until the blistering brand of his body seared you from chest to hip once more. "How hard you came when I finally pulled those thighs apart and licked straight through your soaked—"

"Enough!" you gasped out before he could fully unleash the damning words. You renewed your efforts at wriggling free in earnest, well aware your weakening restraint wouldn't last against Gojo's relentless carnal onslaught. "I-I...maybe we should actually go somewhere more appropriate first. Dinner, maybe?"

Despite your sudden meek suggestion, you couldn't quite mask the desperation laced through the plaintive request. Gojo's eyes seemed to glitter brighter at the shift in your demeanor, clearly scenting weakness in the offing as he allowed his grip to relax somewhat.

"Dinner first, huh?" He pursed those full lips into an exaggerated pout of contemplation before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose that's only fair since I'm the one working up an appetite here..."

With one last blistering look that robbed you of breath entirely, Gojo stepped back and pivoted on his heel to swagger away down the narrow thoroughfare like a man supremely assured of victory. You could only sag back against the alcove wall, chest heaving with exertion as the towering remnants of arousal slowly ebbed.

However, there remained little doubt in your overwrought psyche that this temporary reprieve from your joining was little more than the universe's taunting cruelty. You'd awoken Gojo's darkest, most lascivious appetites earlier that morning.

And if the way he slanted one final look over his powerful shoulder—bright irises already blown wide and jaw clenching subtly around what had to be punishing levels of restraint—then the true feasting was only just about to begin in earnest. With your achingly empty body as the main course.

The opulent restaurant oozed sophistication from every polished surface and perfectly-starched linen. The sommelier's formal bow and crisp recitation of the evening's premier wine offerings seemed utterly wasted on the two of you.

You eyed Gojo over the rim of your glass, the dry Cabernet doing little to dull the lingering tension still thrumming between your joined frames. As always, he looked utterly nonplussed about the lavish indulgences surrounding you—crisp white dress shirt straining across his muscular torso and sharp jawline rasped by the beginnings of late evening stubble. Like a predator eternally at ease, regardless of situation.

Gojo's piercing gaze roamed over you with the same slow, assessing intensity one might reserve for an exquisite delicacy awaiting consumption. You tried not to squirm under that molten scrutiny, clearing your throat pointedly.

"I'm assuming there was some purpose behind corralling me into this place," you remarked in your best professional tone. "Beyond getting me liquored up for some inappropriate table exhibition, that is."

Rather than rebuff your dig, Gojo simply angled his head in a catlike tilt—lips curling into a devilish smirk that telegraphed his carnal interest crystal clear. Leaning further back in his chair, he allowed one broad palm to splay suggestively over the crisp linen covering his lap, fingertips drumming out an idle staccato.

"Well now, I certainly wouldn't say no to having those gorgeous lips wrapped around something else for a change." His deep timbre emerged laced with sin and smoky insinuation. "You always did look like an utter vision stuffed under these fancy tabletops sucking me off..."

Heat blossomed across your cheeks despite your best efforts at composure. You knocked back another bracing swallow of wine, struggling not to dwell on the searing flashes his words evoked—memories of delirious encounters where Gojo had hauled you under secluded tables to properly appreciate your skills with relentless, undisguised gratification.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped your fork with slightly more force than necessary."I'd ask if you're always this disgracefully crass and lascivious in public these days...but then I remembered who I'm talking to," you said dryly. "So in the interest of not causing a scene, why don't we get to the point of this little ambush?"

One brow arched infinitesimally as Gojo cocked his head further, clearly drinking in your prim and vaguely irritated state with evident relish. "You seem awfully anxious to rush right to business," he murmured, fingertips continuing their idle rhythm against the tablecloth. "Where's that simmering self-restraint and haughty composure I remember enjoying unraveling piece...by...delicious...piece so thoroughly back in the day?"

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, only for Gojo to cut you off with a low, lush rumble. "Unless you've simply decided being insatiably thirsty for this cock is more your speed these days..."

With that quiet taunt, his free hand disappeared beneath the pristine linen swathe in a heavy, meaningful descent. You swallowed convulsively as his fingertips slid along the unmistakable ridge of his thick cock straining against the unforgiving fabric of his slacks. Every knuckle undulated in a deliberate, stroking glide that tightened your throat like a vise around trapped breaths and unspoken pleas.

"Can practically already taste how soaked you're getting beneath those prim layers just from the thought alone..." Gojo continued in a molten rasp heavy with undisguised gratification. "Imagining that filthy little mouth stretched wide around my girth again, glazing yourself in my cum right here in front of god and all these polite company..."

A tiny, reedy sound slipped unbidden from your constricted chest despite your best efforts at locking it down. Gojo's lascivious smirk turned rapacious as he correctly scented the spike of liquid want now cloying the humid space between you.

"So what do you say, gorgeous?" He pitched his timbre slightly lower, allowing each gravelled syllable to curl around your senses with lashes of pure elemental sin. "Going to be a good little famished cocksleeve and give me a hand under the table before we get down to—"

You cut across his brazen soliloquy with a forceful rap of your fork against the tabletop. Pulling yourself together, you fixed Gojo with a severe glower that finally seemed to give him pause.

"If you can't conduct yourself with any semblance of decorum befitting your station, then I'm through entertaining these adolescent displays," you bit out in a hushed tone edged with adamant warning. "I'm not some wide-eyed underling fresh off the training fields anymore, Satoru. I have higher standing and responsibility than you seem to grasp."

Silence stretched between you for a weighted beat—Gojo's heated gaze flickering over you with renewed focus you couldn't quite decipher. When he finally spoke again, there was a note of uncharacteristic control underpinning his typically buoyant candor. Clearly, he'd grasped the need to change tactics once more.

"You're absolutely right," he said after a prolonged pause. "Part of me forgets just how much you've grown and ascended the ranks over the years." One side of his mouth curved higher in a lopsided ghost of his usual smirk. "Clearly earned the elders' respect and esteem far beyond that of a simple 'secretary' as I put it earlier."

Before you could retort, Gojo pressed onwards—hand sliding almost absently back into view to wrap around the stem of his wine flute. "Which is exactly why your assistance is pivotal to turning the tide regarding Yuji's current...perilous circumstances."

There was a grim finality in his words that snapped you back to the seriousness of the moment like a sobering slap to the face. You shifted fractionally taller in your seat, expression hardening as Gojo continued in low, adamant tones.

"Whether you're fully aware or care to admit it right now, that kid is destined to be pivotal for the upcoming events on the horizon," he rumbled with quiet conviction. "Leaving him to get executed off the books tomorrow morning would be tantamount to losing our most powerful asset before the real battles even begin."

Swirling his wine idly, Gojo paused to take an unhurried pull directly from the bottle before continuing. "Which is why I'm going to need to call in more than a few favors getting his sentence postponed tonight. Starting with you, of course..."

There was a new current of steely focus glinting in his gaze as it bored into you with ruthless intensity. For several protracted beats, you simply held each other's stares—gauging the lengths and motivations rumbling beneath the surface beyond petty physical exploits.

Finally, you pursed your lips and shook your head in a solemn negation. "I'm sorry, but I can't overstep protocol and abuse my influence with the elders like that," you stated, quietly adamant. "Not even for you, Satoru. The ramifications could unravel everything I've worked decades to attain if word got out I went rogue."

Rather than exploding in his usual flashes of arrogance or wounded pride, Gojo merely raked you with a glower of narrowed, simmering intent. His next words emerged more pointed and resonating than any innuendo or filthy endearment preceding it.

"Are you sure about that stance?" he intoned darkly. "Because if memory serves, there are a few distinct...indiscretions we've engaged in that could certainly be construed as 'unraveling' by the elders' view, wouldn't you agree?"

The waiter's polished footsteps faded as he departed to fetch their entrees, leaving you and Gojo in a weighted silence. You could practically taste the undercurrent of tension simmering in the air between you both.

Sipping his wine slowly, Gojo dragged his incandescent stare over your features with undisguised intensity. "I'm serious about this," he stated in a low, firm rumble that brooked no further evasion. "We're talking everything from inappropriate use of jujutsu techniques to conduct we both know crosses so many lines..."

He trailed off meaningfully, leaving the implications to hang heavy as his tongue slicked over his lower lip. You swallowed hard against the rising heat prickling across your cheeks and neck.

"Like that night in the east gardens behind the training halls," Gojo continued, voice dropping into a deeper, more intimate register that curled straight between your thighs. "Where I pinned you down in the grass and ate you out until you came all over my face. And then I fucked you so hard, you nearly passed out before we got caught."

Despite yourself, a tremulous shiver raked through your nerves as the visceral flashes assaulted your mind's eye—the frantic rasp of his calloused palms roaming and kneading, the slick motions of his tongue probing and savoring parts of you meant for far more intimate settings.

Gojo noticed your reaction with a dark chuckle, clearly satisfied he'd reeled you back in completely. "Or what about the time you wrapped those pretty lips around my cock in the maintenance closet and let me rail your throat until you choked on my load? How many rules was just that one encounter bending, hm?"

The directness of his words scorched through you with dizzying potency, making you flush and squirm. You parted your lips on a shaky exhale, determined to regain some semblance of control.

But Gojo smirked knowingly and pressed his verbal advantage in a low, filthy rumble. "Face it, I've got enough material on you ruining me with that greedy little mouth and pussy all over campus to get you defrocked hard." His hooded azure gaze practically seared into your core. "And yet you really wanna risk me airing all those dirty details to the elders? Leaving Itadori's fate to chance like that?"

Your mouth felt suddenly dry as you wrestled with the undeniable truth behind his taunting words. For several fraught beats, the frustration and righteous indignation warred with your embedded sense of duty to the cause. Finally, you released a shuddery breath and lifted your chin.

"I'll...see what I can do about swaying things in your favor," you muttered in a low, slightly strained tone. "No promises, but I'll try discussing options with the higher-ups."

Rather than seem appeased, Gojo's expression only hardened further—carved features settling into a granite mask of tenacious stubbornness and smoldering impatience. "'Not good enough, kitten," he rumbled, forearms tensing atop the table. "This mission is too fucking important for halfhearted measures. I need you to outright insist on a stay of execution being granted, got it? No more stammering 'I'll try' bullshit that lets them sidestep."

His unyielding stare pinned you with the intensity of a physical force, raising your hackles slightly despite your attempt at diplomacy. Still, looking into those blazing blue embers, you got the distinct impression that you'd sooner achieve moving a mountain with vocal commands than sway Gojo on this matter. That steely resolve would accept nothing less than complete victory in postponing Itadori's fate.

Just as you began resigning yourself to digging in for another round of heated back-and-forth across the fancy tablecloth, the arrival of the main courses mercifully broke the combative spell between you. Gojo seemed to settle back imperceptibly as the waiter swept in—that scorching intensity banking down to a more companionable smolder for the time being.

Still, you recognized the temporary reprieve for what it was as you tucked into your meal with far less gusto than anticipated. Despite his best efforts to gloss over the previous tension with idle banter and lighter conversational tones, it remained silently understood that the evening's main purpose still hung unresolved and delicate between you until matters were final.

So it was with an undercurrent of somber expectation that you finally settled the check and rose to follow Gojo from the opulent dining hall at evening's end. A subtle snap of his fingers triggered a curiously disorienting sensation of compression and vertigo—only to release you blinking in surprise mere heartbeats later, finding yourself suddenly standing in the familiar living quarters you called home.

"I'd say you're handling that little trick with far more aplomb these days," Gojo remarked with a lopsided grin, clearly drinking in your adjustment to his impromptu teleportation with amusement. "Remember when I first started zipping you around like that? Pretty sure you heaved your guts all over those ugly penny loafers you used to wear back in the day."

Huffing out a noise of semi-fond exasperation, you aimed a swat at his sculpted arm without malice. "Yes, well I suppose youth and naivety breed certain...overzealous behaviors, don't they?" you retorted before immediately sobering once more. "Like making reckless judgment calls that imperil an entire system..."

Gojo's expression remained impassive, giving no outward indication whether your choice of words struck any particular chord with him. However, you caught the faintest glimmer flickering behind those incandescent blue irises - the barest hint that perhaps you'd underestimated just how much gravitas your dissenting opinion potentially held with the higher-ups.

After all, you were Gojo Satoru's first and most distinguished pupil back when he initially ascended to teaching status, weren't you? Not only that, but your judicious control and prime mastery of your innate techniques embodied many of the fundamental philosophies and fighting styles the old guard so staunchly valued. On numerous occasions, your skills had been cited as quintessential examples to uphold for future generations...

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard as the weighty truth of your potential sway with leadership gradually bobbed to the surface of your consciousness like drift debris after a storm. This entire evening, Gojo might have simply been maneuvering to forcibly realign your perspective on leveraging the hidden influence you apparently wielded without ever fully grasping it.

To truly comprehend the magnitude of the gambit he intended to play using your standing as the key gambit.

Before you could properly parse that sobering epiphany, however, Gojo had already closed what little distance remained between your frames with purposeful strides. The blistering heat of his body all but blanketed yours as he leaned in with that familiar aura of prowling, casual intensity that always made your breath stall.

"So..." he murmured, voice pitching into a lower register that seemed to slither straight down your spine. "Does that mean you're gonna be a good girl and invite me inside so we can continue this intriguing conversation in more...comfortable accommodations?"

Gojo punctuated the brazen implication by cocking one arm against the doorframe, effectively caging you between the cool wood and the searing, masculine planes of his torso and hips. You were abruptly overwhelmed by the reality of his proximity - each subtly shifting ripple of sinew and musculature utterly inescapable from this range.

That distinctly virile, elemental musk that always set your senses clamoring was back in full force as well. You swallowed hard, nostrils flaring fractionally as the delirious essence of Gojo's body heat and clean, faintly spiced perspiration flooded your olfactory receptors. Despite your most ardent efforts, you felt your lids grow heavy and mouth part unconsciously as liquid frissons of pure, burgeoning temptation licked through your veins.

Just like that, with a few deftly aimed strokes, Gojo had reeled you back to the precipice of helpless surrender once more. Still, you summoned the dregs of your stern resolve and planted your palms squarely against his chest, levering back an inch to preserve some semblance of boundaries.

"Subtle as ever, I see," you managed in a tone you hoped came across more dryly exasperated than outright breathless. "I should've guessed the moment we arrived you'd be angling to make yourself at home uninvited."

One brow arched higher, though you didn't miss the slight crinkling at the corners of Gojo's stupidly pretty eyes betraying his hushed amusement. "Oof, someone has their defenses wound just a tad tightly if they think I require permission these days," he shot back with a wry rumble.

Before you could summon a retort, that leonine physique surged forward in a slow, sensual undulation—once again pinning you fully against the unyielding wooden slab with the scorching brand of his larger frame. Gojo's free hand drifted down to palm the generous curve of your hip with sinful insistence, hips canting forward until there could be no mistaking the ridge of his erection notching against your lower belly.

"Better question might be..." His voice dropped several delirious octaves into those sandpaper-rough timbres that seemed to sizzle straight through your nerve endings. "Why even bother pretending at token protests when we both know how this little dance is gonna end...?"

Those incandescent azure irises flickered down to where his fingertips were already stroking teasing swirls against the exposed strip of skin between your top and waistband, silently daring you to rebuff such an implicit capitulation.

"So why delay the inevitable any longer, gorgeous?" Gojo rumbled against your lips, voice dropping into that gravelly timbre designed to liquefy your restraint. "Let's get down to stripping off all these formalities once and for—"

"You haven't even kissed me yet today," you blurted out, cutting across his heated soliloquy.

Gojo's pale brows pinched infinitesimally as the words seemed to momentarily stall his single-minded determination. You could practically see the gears turning behind those hooded azure irises as he processed your statement—likely running back through every provocative encounter and instance of attempted seduction throughout the evening.

When his piercing stare finally snapped back to yours, there was the faintest glimmer of sheepish realization burning there. "...Huh. You're right," he remarked in a slightly lower, more subdued tone. "Here I've been working overtime to rile you up, and I haven't even had the balls to properly lay one on you yet."

You tried not to visibly preen under the gratifying acknowledgment, but couldn't quite suppress the tiny quirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Sensing a rare window of opportunity, you shifted your weight more fully against the solid contours of Gojo's frame, allowing your fingers to trail upwards in delicate spirals.

"Well?" You arched one brow in playful challenge, throat bobbing on a swallow as your digits mapped higher along the tendons of his powerful neck. "Are you going to actually follow through, or am I going to have to take the initiative here?"

For one heated beat, Gojo simply held your pointed stare in taut suspension—the atmosphere between you both seeming to atomize down into charged ionization particles awaiting the slightest catalyst to detonate. Then, his lips curved higher in a lopsided smirk you'd come to recognize as pure, unrepentant recklessness sublimating into physical form.

"You're going to have to come and get it, gorgeous," he rumbled, the raspy undercurrents sending delicious frissons shivering along your nerves. "Show me just how badly you've been starving for a real taste all evening."

His dexterous fingers slid up to cup the line of your jaw, thumb sweeping suggestively across your lower lip in a searing caress. You struggled not to whimper at the electrifying friction as Gojo leaned further into your personal space.

However, rather than ducking his head the final few scant inches to seal his mouth hungrily over yours, the insufferable tease merely arched backward—body undulating in a slow, sinuous retreat until he towered over you at his full impressive stature. The tip of his tongue darted out to lave his lower lip in clear relish, eyes glinting with wicked invitation as he silently dared you to make good on rising to his heated gauntlet.

A thrill of excitement and determination lanced through your chest as you instantly grasped the game afoot. With purposeful, unhurried movements, you allowed your palms to splay across the granite warmth of his abdomen before slowly, teasingly tracking higher in a worshiping glide. Every rippling corde and sinewy groove of his musculature became briefly profiled as you glided your touch upwards - mapping the scorching acreage in ardent appreciation.

Gojo watched your journey with blown pupils and ragged breaths, torso visibly expanding with each shuddering inhalation he dragged against his impressive restraint. You didn't miss the flex and bunching of his arms and shoulders as you passed over his pectorals, clearly fighting not to haul you bodily against him right then and simply crush your pliant frames back into mutual rapture.

But still, he remained steadfast and motionless—a living marble statue gloriously chiseled from pure virile perfection, awaiting your reverent indulgences with a banked smolder burning behind his hooded stare.

Finally, your fingertips dusted across the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, body arching and straining upwards in your single-minded pursuit of that elusive, smug mouth you craved with mounting desperation. Try as you might to extend yourself onto the balls of your feet and go fully up on tiptoes, Gojo maintained a scant whisper of distance—always hovering just out of your reach with an expression of blatant masculine gratification at your squirming efforts.

A huff of breathy frustration nearly slipped free at the persistent denial, only to be silenced by the way Gojo instinctively dipped lower as if to grant your wish...only to arc back with a low, filthy chuckle that reverberated against your now-thundering pulse. It was as much a sensual dance of control and restraint as a taunt or test of wills at this juncture—simply savoring the delirious friction generated as your pliant, questing form sought to twine and pull him down into decadent oblivion, inch by maddening inch.

"Easy there, kitten..." he rasped in a low, smoky cadence designed to further short-circuit your resolve. "Why don't you try dropping to those pretty knees for me? Might give you better leverage and angles to play with in reaching those tempting lips that have been tormenting that insatiable appetite of yours..."

You answered with a full-body shudder and a needy keen spilling free from your very marrow—all thoughts of recalcitrance and willpower now thoroughly banished beneath the inescapable gravity well of Gojo's hypnotic presence and unholy temptations.

You whined out loud, an unguarded noise of pure pleading desire that seemed to momentarily crack through your usually reserved demeanor. "Satoru...please, wanna kiss you so badly."

The raw, plaintive tone of your entreaty hung in the air between you, heavy with naked yearning in a way that gave even Gojo pause. His brilliant eyes seemed to smolder brighter for an instant, no doubt dredging up fond recollections of past occasions where he'd so thoroughly unraveled your ironclad poise and reduced you to this state.

Rather than pounce on your vulnerability or tease further, however, Gojo's expression softened ever so slightly. One broad palm cradled the back of your skull as he ducked in closer, guiding your trembling frame until your brows nearly brushed.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he murmured, deep timbre emerging somewhere between a graveled purr and heated rumble.

You barely managed a shuddering inhalation before Gojo sealed his mouth over yours in a searing brand of possession. The initial clash of lips and tongue was something closer to an elemental force than a mere intimate exchange—not at all gentle, but rife with pent-up longing and ravenous need finally given free rein.

Your fingers instinctively knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt as Gojo laid an utterly thorough claim upon your senses. He swallowed each desperate little noise and whimper that punched free as if savoring the most delectable of delicacies. One thick forearm banded around your lower back to anchor you fully against his solid frame as he deepened the devouring cadence with relentless intensity.

A husky growl of clear approval and gratification rumbled against your slick, swollen mouth as Gojo momentarily allowed a scant parting for air. "Fuck...I'd almost forgotten how greedy and eager this talented little tongue can get," he grated with clear relish.

You could only pant and squirm fitfully in answer, thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds on a breeze. Gojo simply chuckled richly—the timbre vibrating straight through your very cells in a way that somehow untethered your feet from the ground entirely.

The next thing you clearly registered were his powerful arms banding beneath the backs of your thighs to haul you securely against his body in one smooth, easy motion. Your startled yelp melted into a tremulous sigh as the bunching plains of his torso and abdomen braced your arched spine in a sublime full-body embrace.

"Don't go passing out on me before the real fun starts," Gojo husked against the thundering pulse at your nape, even as his long strides carried you across the threshold of your apartment. "I've got plans for putting that gifted mouth to far better uses than just kissing..."

With your legs now locked around his narrow hips, you could feel every delicious ridge and twitch of his growing erection grinding against your dampening heat through the flimsy barriers separating you. A piteous whine slipped free as the swaying rhythm of his determined gait threatened to unravel you down to your very foundation.

"That's it, let me hear just how desperate I've got you aching to taste me properly again," Gojo growled against the whorl of your ear, each guttural rasp sparking fresh convulsions of need between your thighs. "Been waiting all fucking day to unwrap this gorgeous little prize and savor you inch...by...inch."

Gojo punctuated the lascivious promise by swiveling to carefully lay you out amidst the rumpled linens and cushions—each flickering shadow casting his chiseled features into harsh relief. No more levity or evasion glossed his expression, only the stark severity and zero-compromises focus of a predator fully engaged.

Rather than pounce on you immediately, however, Gojo seemed to pause and simply drink in the sight of your breathless, disheveled state with smoldering intent. His bright eyes roamed over every inch of your upturned features and the generous curves left tantalizingly displayed by your askew clothing.

"Goddamn..." he rumbled in a deep timbre thick with undisguised yearning. "Look at you splayed out for me, practically begging to get worked over already."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from the pure masculine intensity blazing in his stare. There was an undercurrent of restrained hunger there that made your pulse thunder—heady and distinctly feral even as Gojo slowly prowled over your prone body.

Rather than immediately claim you in a reckless flurry of lust, his calloused palms mapped your sides in a languid, purposeful glide all the way up to your rib cage. You arched instinctively into his maddening caresses, whimpering softly in anticipation.

"Easy there, baby..." Gojo murmured in a low rasp against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed along the thrumming tendons of your neck, clearly savoring the scent of your desire. "You act like it's been months since this pretty pussy has been spread out and stuffed full. And after all the time I spent working you into this gorgeous, wrecked state..."

You squirmed fitfully beneath his unyielding weight, needy whines spilling past your parted lips as Gojo continued leisurely nuzzling and nipping along your jawline and throat. Despite the unhurried leisure of his attentions, you were rapidly spiraling into molten delirium between his hoarse endearments and the tantalizing friction where your bodies met.

"What, so impatient you can't even let me take a second to savor this?" Gojo husked out in a gravel-rough rasp that made you shiver. "I had to spend all damn day thinking about bending you over the second we were alone...so you'll excuse me if I take things slow now that I've got you all wound up and drenched for it."

Emphasizing his point, Gojo slotted one thick, muscular thigh between your parted legs, rocking forward in a slow grind that dragged the solid length of his cock against your molten entrance through the thin barrier separating you. You cried out sharply at the delicious friction, back bowing as frantic nails scoured tracks down his flexing shoulder blades in desperation.

"Yeah...that's it, squirm and moan for me like a good girl," Gojo growled in clear approval, tongue laving a wet path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. "Keep making those filthy sounds and just MAYBE I'll finally give you what you've been gagging for all night."

You could only whimper raggedly in compliance as his mouth moved lower, searing a path from collarbone to the generous swell of your breasts. His large hands cradled and kneaded the soft flesh with relish before tugging the stretchy fabric aside to bare one nipple to the calloused heat of his lips and tongue.

"That's right...let Daddy get his fill and reacquaint himself with every lush goddamn inch," Gojo growled around the rosy peak, sending lightning bolts of sensation zinging straight to your molten core. "Been thinking about sucking and biting these perfect tits all over again ever since you walked into that restaurant looking like a goddamn meal..."

Despite his crude admission, there was an undercurrent of clear reverence and tender devotion laced through his ragged cadences now. Gojo laved and nuzzled at your breasts with all the ardent indulgence of a penitent savoring their last meal before execution. His hooded azure gaze seemed to blaze brighter with each piteous keen and arch you offered up in answer to his lavishing.

Just as you felt yourself ascending the spiraling crescendo toward mindless bliss under his skilled attentions, Gojo abruptly detached from your saturated nipple with a low noise of harsh restraint. You whined plaintively, eyes glassy as your hands reflexively fisted in the front of his shirt—silently pleading for him to resume lapping away at the fiery deprivation swiftly devouring you inside out.

"Easy, baby..." he rasped through gritted teeth, clearly suppressing his own spiraling ardor through sheer force of iron will. "I didn't wait this long to absolutely wreck you just to blow it all on some half-assed foreplay."

Slanting his mouth over yours in another scorching, possessive claim, Gojo cradled your overwrought features between those rough, calloused palms with surprising tenderness.

His thumb smoothed along your cheekbone as the kiss gradually shifted into a slow, sensual undulation.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against the seam of your lips. "Let Daddy hear you ask for it nice and loud."

The command emerged as a gravelly whisper, though his blazing stare held an unmistakable glint of command. Still, the blatant carnal hunger etched into his expression made you feel positively giddy and invincible as your fingertips trailed along the corded lines of his powerful throat.

"I want you inside me, Sensei," you pleaded, voice pitching into a breathy whine. "Please, I need to feel you filling me up again."

Gojo groaned, clearly relishing the shameless admission and the way your thighs clenched reflexively around his hips. You could feel the rigid contours of his cock twitching eagerly against your slickened folds through the layers separating you.

"Fuck, the mouth on you," he rasped, nipping lightly at the underside of your jaw. "You know what it does to me when you call me that."

"Good," you purred, allowing your fingers to trail higher until they carded through the silky soft strands of his hair. "Now, are you going to stop stalling and show me how much better you are at playing teacher in bed?"

Your bold retort earned a snarl of pure male approval, though the sound quickly tapered into a groan as you deliberately canted your hips to drag the seeping damp of your panties against his throbbing erection. Gojo's fingers instinctively curled tighter around your neck, pinning you into place as he bucked and rolled his pelvis forward to reciprocate the delicious friction.

"Alright then, smartass..." he rasped, pupils blown nearly black with ravenous need as he stared down at your upturned, flushed face. "If that's how you wanna play it, I'm gonna make damn sure you're thoroughly re-educated on who exactly holds the reins here."

Without further ado, his hands drifted down to tug insistently at your waistband, practically shredding the flimsy fabric in his haste to free you from the rest of your clothing. You shivered at the way the cool evening air instantly pebbled across your newly exposed skin, though any instinctive modesty was quickly chased away by the hungry stare drinking in your naked form.

Gojo's expression shifted into a predatory leer, the sight sending another jolt of electric anticipation shooting through your already-jangling nerve endings. "That's better," he rumbled, broad palm skating a path up your inner thigh with unhurried reverence. "Nothing should be allowed to hide such a perfect view of my favorite fucking dessert."

You bit back a whimper at the possessive timbres lacing his gravel-rough voice, thighs twitching restlessly as Gojo's touch continued mapping higher. Finally, his questing fingertips slid into the sticky slick coating your swollen folds, dragging the copious evidence of your desire back to where your clit throbbed with need.

"Oh, look at that..." Gojo practically cooed, the filthy delight and awe laced through his voice sending a fresh rush of warmth spilling out against his dexterous ministrations. "Daddy's been neglecting his baby girl, and she's absolutely soaking wet already. How long has my gorgeous kitten been aching like this, hmm?"

The words emerged somewhere between a teasing croon and a gravelly growl, and you could only shudder and keen as Gojo continued rubbing maddening circles over your hypersensitive bud. The friction was already pushing you rapidly to the edge, and judging by the way Gojo's hooded gaze flickered up to watch your rapture, he could tell as much.

"Ah-ah...no cumming until you beg Daddy to fuck you properly," he rasped, even as his index and ring fingers dipped shallowly into your fluttering channel—teasing and stretching the seeping velvet heat in a way that made you sob out loud. "Don't make me have to punish you for being so naughty, kitten. You know I can keep you on the edge all night if I need to."

Your spine bowed and back arched as you writhed and thrashed beneath his touch, a litany of breathy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. "Please, please, Daddy, don't tease me," you begged shamelessly, the words nearly slurring together with raw need. "I'll be a good girl, I swear. Please, please just fuck me..."

Gojo's gaze sharpened with clear gratification as you entreated his mercy, and he finally eased off on the merciless friction between your thighs. Your lungs burned with the force of gulping down ragged lungfuls of air, but you were given scant reprieve before his hands gripped and lifted your thighs, effortlessly hauling you closer and spreading them wide.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, the raw timbre of his voice sending delicious frissons shivering across your fever-warm skin. "Such a sweet little angel when you finally submit."

With one more brief nip at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, Gojo began working the fly of his trousers open, finally freeing his massive erection. He stroked and pumped his straining shaft a few times for good measure, eyes raking across your splayed, naked form with clear relish.

"Look at how pretty this tight little pussy is, dripping all over my fingers and cock just begging to get filled," he grunted, lining the bulbous crown against your quivering entrance and rubbing it back and forth through the sticky arousal saturating your folds.

A pitiful keen slipped past your parted lips at the taunting pressure, and you could feel a fresh gush of slickness welling up in response to his crass praise. Gojo smirked at the telltale reaction, one calloused palm sliding down to part the plush folds of your pussy even further.

"Goddamn, look how wet and greedy this is for me," he rumbled in a low tone thick with pure male satisfaction. "Bet you were fantasizing about having Daddy's cock stuffing this pretty cunt the whole time we were sitting there in that restaurant. Isn't that right, kitten?"

Your brain was barely capable of stringing together a coherent thought, much less a snarky comeback, but somehow the words slipped free despite the mindless delirium clouding your head. "Y-you were the one who wouldn't stop teasing," you moaned, squirming fitfully against the delicious pressure poised at your molten core. "Can't say I wasn't tempted to drag you into the bathroom and suck you off..."

The words dissolved into a keening cry as Gojo abruptly slammed into the hilt, filling you to the brim and beyond in one brutal, unyielding stroke. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and lower back as he immediately began pounding into your clenching walls, each powerful thrust punching the breath from your lungs.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" Gojo gritted out, hissing through clenched teeth as the clutching vice of your inner walls seemed to squeeze the very life from his engorged shaft. "You were just planning on being a dirty little tease the whole time we were at dinner? What a fucking minx..."

Gojo punctuated the statement by angling your hips upward to drill even deeper, each merciless thrust nudging the sensitive spot at the very end of your channel until the pressure sent stars exploding behind your eyelids. The only sounds that could emerge were a series of broken mewls and wordless whines, utterly incapable of doing anything but lay there and take the exquisite torment of his unrelenting, devastating pace.

"Yeah, that's it, let me feel just how desperately you've been needing this," he snarled, large hands gripping your waist as his pelvis hammered a merciless rhythm against your overstimulated sex. "Soak this fucking cock like a good little kitten. Don't hold back on me, baby. Show me how much you missed Daddy's cock and I might let you cum."

You could barely process the filth spilling free from his mouth at this point, each syllable dissolving into an electric buzz as his ruthless assault stoked the pressure mounting inside you. It was a familiar, heady rush of sensation—a coiling tension that seemed to grow tighter and more unbearable with every punishing roll of Gojo's hips against yours.

He was driving you toward a cliff's edge without pause or quarter, and the sheer force of his intensity was dizzying. Yet, despite the frantic, almost savage cadence, you could feel the subtle shift in his grip and angle as Gojo's gaze bored into your face. Even in the midst of his own delirium, the sheer focus and attentiveness in his stare was intoxicating.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," you gasped out, feeling your core spasming and clutching against the rigid pistoning length impaling you. You feebly reached out, desperate for any kind of anchor amidst the relentless tidal wave of sensation threatening to pull you under. "Satoru...please, want you to kiss me again."

Without missing a beat, Gojo's hands shifted, scooping you up until you were practically cradled in his lap. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and midsection, ankles hooking together as his thrusts never paused. The new position left your torso arching up toward his chest, and Gojo quickly took advantage, slanting his mouth over yours with renewed hunger.

Each slide and curl of his tongue seemed perfectly in time with the driving roll of his hips, and the added closeness was swiftly becoming too much. You were hurtling toward the edge of the abyss, and this time, Gojo seemed intent on taking you down with him.

"My perfect girl, taking my cock like such a good little slut," he gritted out, one hand tangling in your hair while the other braced your back, keeping your bodies fused together. "Been dreaming about this tight cunt for fucking days, and it's even better than I remember. Now be a good kitten and soak Daddy's cock for me."

You could feel yourself tumbling over the precipice even before Gojo's hand snaked down to thumb your clit, and the dual assault was all it took to send you reeling into blinding euphoria. Your climax hit like a freight train, ripping through you with an almost painful intensity that left your toes curling and vision blurring.

Gojo continued thrusting his full length in a rapid-fire tempo, hissing out a strangled groan as the spasms of your inner walls finally dragged him into the depths of oblivion alongside you. Your limbs felt like jelly, and you were grateful for his grip holding you steady as the waves of rapture subsided.

He didn't release you, though, not right away. Rather, Gojo simply held you in his arms, his cheek pressed to the side of your head and the slow rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours. The two of you remained silent for a long moment, simply breathing together as the room gradually stopped spinning around you.

Eventually, Gojo pulled back enough to cup your jaw and slant his mouth over yours in another gentle, exploratory kiss. It was nothing like the devouring claims and searing conquests that had preceded it, and the tenderness in the simple press of lips left you feeling utterly weightless.

When Gojo finally withdrew, the smirk curling his lips was positively self-satisfied. "I'd say that’s enough foreplay, wouldn't you, baby?"

You could only huff a soft laugh in response, shaking your head as the residual tremors of bliss faded. "You consider thatforeplay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I too gentle?" he retorted, feigning a look of innocent confusion. "Maybe we should try round two, then. I'll give you a chance to demonstrate what you meant about sucking me off."

The words emerged in a low, silky murmur as his large hands gripped and squeezed the supple curves of your ass, eliciting a soft squeal from you. You smacked at his broad chest ineffectually, unable to fight the grin tugging at your own mouth.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's not a no," Gojo pointed out, his smug expression practically radiating his unrepentant satisfaction. "And if you keep acting all cute and sassy, I can't promise I'll be able to resist the urge to bend you over and remind you exactly who's in charge."

Your stomach fluttered at the casual, nonchalant admission. It was an undeniable thrill knowing just how badly Gojo craved this—craved you. The thought alone was enough to send a fresh wave of warmth flooding through your veins.

"Maybe I'm not opposed to the idea," you murmured, biting down on your lower lip as you glanced up through your lashes.

The look was clearly too much for Gojo's self-control. His eyes darkened with fresh desire, and his grip shifted to lift and turn you so that you were sprawled facedown across the rumpled cushions.

"Well, in that case," he growled, the heat and weight of his body blanketing yours as his hips pressed flush to the swell of your backside. "Let's see just how filthy this mouth is, shall we?"

The room seemed to exist in its own hushed, velvety cocoon of tranquility - a stark contrast to the ferocious passion that had consumed every inch mere moments ago. You lay draped languidly across Gojo's powerful frame with your cheek pillowed on the rises and valleys of his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberated through your lashes in a soothing cadence.

One of your hands traced idle, featherlight patterns over the expanse of his toned abdomen - mapping the ridges and grooves so recently sheened and flexing under your ardent worshiping. Gojo remained equally at peace beneath your sprawled embrace, those brilliant azure irises at half-mast while he reclined with one arm crooked behind his head.

Despite the palpable aura of repletion surrounding you both, a new undercurrent began to gradually assert itself in the weighted stillness. You felt compelled to disturb the quietude to address what this entire evening had truly culminated towards - the deal quietly brokered between heated sheets and joined bodies.

"I'll contact the elders first thing," you murmured, the words seeming to slip free before your mind fully grasped their implication. "About postponing Itadori Yuji's case, like you wanted."

Gojo's chest expanded minutely on a slow inhale, but otherwise his statuesque form remained comfortably inert as your words hung in the air between you. After several beats, you felt the subtle weight of his stare alighting on your upturned features.

"Yeah?" His resonant timbre emerged in a low, stripped rasp - sounding as thoroughly unraveled as the rest of his carefully compartmentalized composure. "They'll actually listen to your stance on something so high-stakes?"

You allowed your own eyes to slip shut in a protracted blink, thoughts rapidly trying to align and process how to even begin verbalizing the sheer revelations that had bloomed open tonight about your place within the jujutsu hierarchy.

"I didn't fully grasp it at first," you admitted, voice coming out slightly roughened from earlier exertions. "But now I'm starting to understand the actual leverage my positioning and reputation has afforded without me even noticing."

Rather than respond directly, the only sound came from a protracted exhalation through Gojo's nose - seeming to signal his grasp of the situation finally mapping out as well. You hoped he also understood just how monumental a gambit he'd set into motion by hammering the truth home in his uniquely heated approach tonight. Not to induce guilt, per se...but perhaps a smidgeon more humility about the harrowing stakes being juggled.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Gojo abruptly shifted his weight until you were rolled over onto your back - his solid bulk carefully blanketing yours without pressure. When your gazes met and locked, you felt that simmering connection arc back into incandescence once more between your joined frames.

"You continue underestimating yourself," he murmured in a timbre now rendered warm gravel thanks to its gravelly softness. He cupped the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the bow of your lips in a barely-there caress that spoke to so much more than surface motions. "Which is exactly why I'm never going to stop knocking some sense into that stubborn head of yours..."

With that throaty declaration, Gojo dipped his chiseled features lower until your foreheads brushed - noses scanting along one another in an electrifying gossamer graze. The intimacy of the motion seemed to steal your very breath straight from your lungs as he carried on in a husked rasp.

"So thank you. For listening to reason and actually wielding your power for once when it really mattered..."

Unable to resist the unspoken pull between your joined gravities any longer, you surged up to seal Gojo's mouth in a slow, simmering clash of satin flesh and indulgent possession. All the unvoiced sentiments and roiling tides of turbulence hovered for a suspended eternity within that singular nexus point before gradually dispersing into peaceful becalm once more.

Eventually Gojo broke away with the barest hint of a crooked smile tugging at those stupidly perfect lips, clearly satisfied with your acquiescence for the time being. The two of you simply basked in silence for a while longer, relishing in this well-earned moment of bonded lassitude.

That is, until the first stirrings of Gojo's impish irreverence inevitably bubbled back up in the form of his rich baritone laced with none-too-subtle swagger:

"So...I take it this means I get to thoroughly ruin you again before breakfast? No more insufferable teasing about you not putting out until your higher-up buddies get their precious signatures?"

You scoffed out a long-suffering sound of semi-amused exasperation, already anticipating the thick cloud of smug virility about to descend. Sure enough, Gojo's chest puffed with unrepentant satisfaction as he slung one heavy arm around your waist and lightly squeezed.

"That's what I thought. Face it kitten, that pretty pussy has officially been drafted into service under my uncompromising authority until further notice..."

He punctuated the lewd declaration by slanting his mouth over yours in a deliriously thorough deluge of hunger and virility, effectively stealing your very breath for a second rapturous cycle before exhaustion could dare creep back in.

And as your joined frames spiraled back into the delirious vortex of blissful dissipation once more, you couldn't help hazarding one last, bemused thought: somehow, you got the distinct impression Gojo would be exercising his latest "authority" over you with particularly unrestrained enthusiasm this time around.

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byuntrash101 · 11 months ago

Text

the 9th member. — 에이티즈

ateez x f!reader, smut SYNOPSIS. what would it be like to be the 9th member of ateez, only there to satisfy the urges of the others?

tags. smut scenes with every member + cheeky lil gangbang, free use, reader is lowkey a nympho, sex slave kinda vibe, oral (m & f), explicit consent, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, somno, creampie, sloppy seconds (even thirds), lots and lots of cum... + specific tags for each part. wc. 11.8k total (1k-2.5k for each part) mdni.

a/n. please prepare for this filth extravaganza. ea ch part can be reading separately. my fave parts are mingi's woo's and joong's. hope you enjoy <3

𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 9𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 you participate to all albums, promotions, shows and awards as any other member. well almost. you get the minimal amount of lines on the songs and screen time in the mv’s. some fans see untapped potential in you and find it sad, even infuriating that the company doesn’t utilize your assets. they often demand you get more recognition but to no avail. truthfully and quite frankly you couldn’t care less because it’s not why you are part of the group. what you bring to the table isn’t quantifiable in passion for high belted notes or sharp and crisp dance moves or even artistic musical vision. it all happens backstage. you are only here to make sure the boys’ needs are satisfied. It's your only purpose. and it turns out the company knows exactly how to put forth your qualities.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

tags: free use, indecent exposure, implied masturbation (m), implied unprotected sex, contraception, mention of safe word (not used), explicit consent wc: 0.5k

the first rule is that you are required to (1) eat well and get enough sleep to stay healthy. this could sound surprising but your body is under a lot of strain, going to the group schedules and practicing by day and relieving eight lively young men by night, so it’s important you stay healthy so you can keep on taking on your duty as the 9th member. The second rule is fairly obvious, you have to be on (2) contraceptives at all times. this is necessary to make sure you can help the boys without generating any stress towards unwanted pregnancies. for the third rule, when you’re away from the cameras and the indiscreet eyes you are strictly (3) forbidden to wear clothes (except counter order from the members or the company). which is referred to as your “uniform”. this rule serves two purposes. the first one is that the boys must not have their sexual desires tamed down; they get to have constant sexual stimulation looking at your nude body. the second one is more practical, the members have to have access to your body at anytime. if as they look at you they feel any kind of urge they have to be able to answer those instincts on sight. they particularly enjoy looking at you in the practice room, they would often stop and watch you dance and practice naked, they enjoy seeing your breasts jiggle with every jump, they enjoy seeing your ass roll with every body wave. they would often slip their hands in their sweatpants and lightly palmed themselves while they watched sweat roll from your temple and drip between your breasts. sometimes things would lead to another and you wouldn’t leave the dance studio before you are exhausted, sticky and sore. the fourth rule states that you have to (4) be as available as possible for them. sometimes they require particular care where you have to tend to their needs individually or by pairs. this requires you to have a very tight schedule where you will alternatively spend time with one member then an other. you have to manage your time so that you can spend a fair and equitable amount of times with them individually. and of course, there are times when they all collectively require you to take care of their primal urges. the fifth and last rule is to (5) have fun. it could seem out of pocket but that rule is primordial. you have a safe word you can use at all times to ensure you stay free from harm and that you take your role as the 9th member willingly. everything is consensual at all times. you are doing it because you want it. and you want it because you enjoy it. it’s a tiring job but oh so rewarding. you wouldn’t have it any other way. but what could a typical day look like for the 9th member of ateez?

𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀 (1.58pm)

tags: very sloppy blowjob (basically your fave neat freak getting n.a.s.t.y. for you <3), apron, indecent exposure, big cock!hwa, scent kink, deepthroat (again very messy), spit kink, slight dacryphilia, praise, pet names, facial, cum eating, inspired by the unholy chair act in the will to power (yk the one) wc: 1.3k

one thing is certain with seonghwa. he despises filth and dirt. living in a space that isn't spotless is next to impossible for him so it's not an uncommon occurrence that he would ask for you to help him deep clean the dorm. for this duty seonghwa allowed you to derogate to the mandatory “uniform” to wear a sole apron, that was light blue and topstitched with white lace. he says it is to protect your skin from entering in contact with harsh cleaning products but you know it’s because he likes you cosplaying the slutty housewife.

so you help him as best you can: washing the dishes while he carefully watches over you and the soapy water running on your hands and forearms, sometimes even splashing on your chest, getting on your tippy toes to dust off the high shelves of the living room while he looks over to you and see your elegant body line extended, sometimes one of your breasts would even slip out of the apron and of course getting on your knees and lint rolling the floors along with him while he tries not to get distracted by your round ass perking up at the corner of his eyes.

that is usually the last task because at that point seonghwa is spent, in more ways than one. first, he’s tired from the hard work. his joints hurt and he’s become sweaty. but he’s also exhausted from looking at you. at this point his pants have become so tight that even walking to his silver desk chair is uncomfortable. and for you the real labor starts, all the cleaning only serves as a warm up to the true assignment: cleaning off seonghwa’s leaking cock with your tongue.

“aaah” seonghwa sighs, finally sitting down and turning the chair to you. he palms himself a little longer while you finish off lint rolling the last corner of his room. the tied apron on your back makes a pretty baby blue knot fall on your ass, decorating it so tastefully. the sight has seonghwa’s cock twitching.

“there.” you conclude. “all finished”.

“are you sure about that?” seonghwa say pulling on his lounging pants and letting his cock spring free. he chuckles when he sees you turn over, your pupils immediately dilating at the sight, you swallow thickly. you are hypnotized by it, by the way it weeps for you, by the beautiful veins that ornament it.

you start crawling to him without even realizing. without being asked you wrap your hands around the base of his cock, taking a second to admire the pretty and translucent pearl at the tip. you bring the member to your nose, feeling the soft ridges of the head against your skin and inhale a sharp breath. you’ve always liked seonghwa’s scent. he smelled like peach shower gel, talcum powder and a note of masculine musc. he always smelled so clean but also sinful. the perfect blend of heaven and hell. the kind of smell that has your mouth watering and your head spiraling.

“indeed, looks like this part still needs cleaning” you say upon further inspection, taking part in his little roleplay game.

“will you lend me a hand, darling?” seonghwa says, eyes turning sharp, contrasting with the softness of his low voice.

“i’d be more than happy to” you say before letting your tongue circle the wrinkled skin between his tip and his shaft, lapping at the ridges, then aiming it at the slit, quickly gathering the salty pearl in your mouth. you feel him throb in your hand before you wrap your lips around his tip and drag your mouth along the shaft. seonghwa lets out a breathy groan as you progress down until you can no longer go on.

“aaah- just like that” he says, gathering your hair into his fist and looking down at you with a gentle smile.

you pop him out of your mouth and look at him with watery eyes before you lick him from the tip down and gather his balls into your avid hole, sucking on them with loud wet slurping noises.

“good girl, you’re not forgetting any parts.” he strokes your hair. “i want everything squeaky clean”

he moans again, looking down at you working his balls with your mouth, massaging them with your tongue before he takes his cock in hand and presses it to your burning cheek.

“spit on it, darling” he breathes out. you pucker up and spew a big wad of warm spit right onto the head. seonghwa shudders in pleasure as he watches the thick liquid run down his cock. “keep sucking”.

“yes, seonghwa” you respond before going back to sucking his cock, getting the spit back into your mouth. once again fitting his length into your mouth and going down. this time you settle for a comfortable rhythm. you go up and down on his cock each time hollowing your cheeks, dragging beautiful sounds out of seonghwa’s plump red lips. one hand taking care of the parts you can’t reach, dragging your spit up and down and the other fondling and playing with his balls. all of this made a beautiful symphony of seonghwa’s low grunts, wet slurping noises and your eager moans muffled by the big cock stuffed in your mouth. you’re so entranced by the harmonious music that you don’t even hear yeosang next door grunting and moving around various equipment. as for seonghwa he doesn’t particularly want to have your attention drawn anywhere else than his cock so he chooses to ignore his bandmate’s rummaging.

“come on, honey, i think you’re neglecting a part,” seonghwa says between pants as you feel him twitching on your tongue. he was getting close.

for a second you are phased by his comment but then you realize he’s talking about the last few centimeters you can't seem to fit into your mouth. you try once again. you place both hands flat on his thighs and push on your head, gagging as you feel the tip breaching the back of your throat. that feeling alone makes you press your thighs together as you feel your slick stick to your folds.

you’re obviously struggling and there’s something so endearing about it to seonghwa. you can’t seem to fit him whole but you’re willing to die trying. and seonghwa isn’t against helping you a little.

“yes, baby, i know you can do it” he encourages you. he wraps his hand delicately around your nape, securing you in place before he rolls his hips off his chair and upwards.

“ffffuck” he sighs as you cough but soon you feel his cock entering your throat until your lips kiss his pubic bone. “that's it baby…” he pants. “aah fuc-.. look at me.”

you peel your watery eyes open and look up at him as a tear rolls down your burning cheek. seonghwa could have cum right there just looking down at you with your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock. you are so pretty and adorable he can’t take it anymore.

he starts to fuck himself using your pretty mouth to his heart's content until you feel him twitch in your throat and he delivers his load directly into your stomach with a myriad of beautiful airy moans and strangled grunts. he quickly pulls out and wraps his pretty hand around his wet and glistening cock, getting more cum to decorate your reddened and tear soaked face, adding one more layer of mess to your already ruined face. warm cum crashes on your nose, cheeks and lips as you heavily pant, trying to catch your breath. you hurriedly lick the cum of your lips and drag the remaining onto your mouth using your spit covered finger.

seonghwa looks at you in awe devouring his essence like you’ve been starved of it for months. he can’t get enough of it… of you.

“open.” he says, gently wrapping his hand around your chin. “stick your tongue out let me see”. you open your mouth to show seonghwa you finished eating all of his delicious cum and he smiles at you.

“thanks for the hand, darling” he says, short of breath, sweaty bangs clamping to his beautiful face. “all clean now”.

𝐏𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆 (3.55pm)

tags: directly inspired by yeosang’s hidden talent in the infamous jessi interview (thank u queen), oral (f), face riding, face sitting, hair pulling, edging, begging, teasing, switch sub leaning yeosang, short overstim (f) wc: 1.1k

when you get out of seonghwa’s room you leave the apron behind to stay in your mandated “uniform” and head to the bathroom to splash your face with clean water. suddenly you hear rummaging coming from yeosang’s room and shortly after his face peeks out from the door.

“can you come a second, please? i need you” he says with a beaming smile, he wears a fitted black tank top and matching plain sweat pants. you hurry yourself in and close the door behind you. in the room you find a yoga mat on the floor and beside it a collection of heavy dumbbells and kettlebells.

“i was about to work out” yeosang says pushing his chestnut brown hair out of his face, letting you see the cherry wine birthmark near his eye. he holds a shaker in the other hand “i was going to make me a pre workout shake but then i heard you were busy with seonghwa.” he sets the shaker on his desk. “so i figured i might as well wait until you were done.” he sits himself on the yoga mat. “there's no doubt that you make the best pre workout shakes” he smiles again, innocently and then points at his face.

if you were new to this you would have never suspected the perverted nature of this light exchange. but you are used to this kind of request from him and you don't need more explanations. you step towards him while he lays flat on the mat. you first straddle his lap and you quietly moan when his clothed half hard cock comes in contact with your bare cunt. but you don’t dwell on it because it’s not what you were asked for. you crawl up to yeosang’s face and hover over him.

yeosang feels boiling blood being pumped right into his cock as he looks at your bare pussy. he hasn’t touched you yet, you haven’t touched him either but you’re already red, swollen and wet from playing with seonghwa earlier. his cock jumps in its restrain. he cannot wait to have you on his mouth.

“come on, baby. don't make me beg for it” he says, bringing his hands on your thighs, lightly stroking them.

“why not?” you reply, lowering your hips slightly. “ i like when you beg” you stopped just when your pussy was still out of reach. that greatly affected him. “and i know you like to beg for me”.

“ffffuck- you’re s’bad to me” he panted, extending his neck trying to have you in his mouth.

pre workout with yeosang did not just include having his daily dose of protein by eating you out. it also meant riling him up so he would kill his work out. the goal was to make him as frustrated and edged as possible so he could take it all out on his weights and reps.

“okay” he gives up easily. “please let me taste your pretty dripping pussy. i want it so bad” he says his palms pressing down on your thighs so you would sit on his face sooner than later.

“alright then since you asked so politely” you lower your hips until you are fully pressing your cunt onto his face, earning a muffled ‘thank you’.

“fuck- you’re already so wet” he breathes, his tongue swirling around your soaked folds. “what did hyung do to you?” he asks before burying his face into you. his tongue lapping at your entrance while his nose bumped into your hard clit. you moan and sigh before you can muster an answer. but yeosang doesn't mind. he’s patient. well… except when it’s to have your pretty pussy in his mouth.

“he didn’t do anything to me that's the problem- ngghh” your hand reaches for his hair to keep him still and you start to rock your hips back and forth slowly. “i only got to suck his dick”. you hear him chuckle.

“and you got this wet just sucking his dick? you really are hungry for cock, aren’t you?” he chuckles again, his hands applying more pressure to your thighs. “i bet you were wishing you got some kind of relief” he angles his tongue and shoves it inside you.

“yessss” you hissed, both replying to his questions and urging him to continue what he was doing. with each back and fourth of your hips you fuck yourself on his tongue, feeling the wet muscle go in and out, you know you’re getting closer to release. so you lean back slightly and grab his cock through his black sweatpants to start rubbing it through the thin material. you feel him twitch in your hand but more than that you feel his rhythm falter.

“ohh fuccckkk- nhghh. babe, please” he begs again. he was so worked up he could fully be cumming just by having you rub him through his pants. your other hand pulls on his hair to get his head back in the game.

“don’t forget you can’t cum if you really wanna kill your workout, sangie” you sing, amused by his misery.

“you make it reall- ah fuck… fucking difficult” he says, struggling to get back on his pace.

“i won’t stop though. i guess you should make me cum before you bust, unless you don’t actually want to work out today…” you say tantalizing him.

that is the final push he needs. he completely occultates the warm feeling in his groin and the way your expert hands know exactly how to please him to solely focus on your own pleasure. his tongue goes up to your clit where he gives fast and hard flicks to the hard bud, making your cunt gush out more thick slick that is only fueling his fire further.

“fuck, sangie i’m-... almost there” you say, short of breath, your thigh burning and shaking slightly as you feel the weight of your orgasm coming on.

yeosang keeps his eyes on the price, not being distracted by the tight feeling in his pants and the way his cock was twitching, being fully engorged with boiling blood, weeping at the slit, only begging for release. instead he goes back down to give you more back and forth penetrating your dripping cunt with ease and going up to your clit again. only a few more licks are required to have you come undone at the tip of his tongue.

“fuckkk sangie. i’m cum-” a strangled moan cuts you as you rut your hips onto yeosang’s face and feel the force of your orgasm wiping your train of thought entirely, burning heat spreading from your core in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver as you allow yourself the loudest moans and groans of yeosang’s name.

yeosang keeps on lapping at your nectar until you grow overstimulated and push yourself off him, collapsing next to him on the yoga mat both panting for a second in silence. you look down at his crotch seeing a visible wet spot on his pants and smile to yourself before hoisting yourself up on your feet, your thigh still shaking.

“i think you’ll do particularly well on your work out today, sangie~”

𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐀𝐍 (5.20pm)

tags: muscular and sweaty san (deserves his own warning), dirty talk, unprotected sex (we do not vibe with that), cowgirl and reverse cowgirl (san is an ass man 100% certified), creampie wc: 1.2k

you're on the couch massaging your sore thighs when you hear yeosang’s workout playlist blasting from his room which makes you chuckle. but you are suddenly startled by a voice behind you.

“seems like you had a good warmup” you turn your head to meet san. he smiles at you making his cat like eyes turn into small crescents.

“don't let your muscles cool down. come with me” he says before promptly disappearing behind his bedroom door.

you groan in a quiet protest making sure san doesn't hear you before perching yourself up on your feet, still feeling the burn in your thighs from riding yeosang’s face. san usually takes the most out of you. he has incredible stamina and demands nothing less than for you to keep up with him.

you push the door and instantly san passes his oversized lounging t-shirt over his head to reveal his perfectly sculpted body. firm and muscular pecs just above rock hard abs. one look at his body and you are already forgetting about the pain in your thighs to solely be conscious of the ache of your insatiable little cunt.

“it’s leg day today” san declares, turning his broad back to you. you are mesmerized by his muscles moving in unison as he sets the musculation bench before discarding his sweatpants along with his underwear. you can't help but catch your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trail down to his cock. his was quite girthy and from the way his tip was red and leaking you know he started the fun without you. probably even listening to you while yeosang rocked your world.

he sits himself on the bench and tap his thighs.

“given the way yeosang was making you scream i'm guessing you don’t need anymore prepping. right, princess?” he says his eyes trailing off between your thighs that you were subconsciously pressing together.

you shake your head and step towards the object of your every thought but san lifted his large hand, stopping you right in your tracks.

“princess” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head unfavorably. “you know how i love when you use your words. so please use them” he lets his hands back at his side and smiles maliciously when you squirm uncomfortably.

“n-no i-i don't need more prep, sir” you start hesitantly, his scrutinizing eyes making you even hotter between the legs. “my pussy is nice and wet, ready to take your cock, sir”. the name has san's cock jumping between his massive thighs.

“good girl” san praises as you step closer he wraps both his strong hands around your hips and help you straddle him. “do your thing, princess” he says before flashing you a wink, his raven black hair brushing over his forehead. you grab his cock and pump him a few times earning a slow and sultry groan from san before you align him with your entrance and slowly sink your hips. you wrap your hand around san’s nape while he grunts lowly, gritting his teeth as his eyes snap to the point your two bodies meet. with your other hand you stabilize yourself laying it flat on san's abs.

“bounce on my cock, princess”

you start to lift yourself up and let yourself down at a comfortable rhythm. each time san’s large cock spreads you wide open you let out a small whimper and the feeling makes your crave more of this delicious warmth spreading inside you, so much so that your movement become more shallow and faster but san’s big hands wraps around your waist once again.

“come on baby, do it better, do the movement until the end. don’t do a sloppy job, that won’t be any good for your glutes. like this” he guides your hips on his cock, making you roll your hips back and forth, up and down until he could feel the familiar way your cunt was gripping his cock.

“your pussy is pulsating.” he says between pants, sweat dripping from his temples and running down his neck and his abs, making his beautiful bronze skin glisten. “are you gonna cum, princess?” he asks, looking at your focussed pout with a smirk. you nod once again, eyes closed shut desperately chasing your orgasm. but he grabs your face harshly between his index and thumb making you lose focus. “what did a tell you about using your words, huh? are you already so cockdumb that you lost the ability to speak?”

“sorry, sannie” you said, out of breath, your eyes snapping open as you bounced harder than ever, your tits bouncing up and down with every motion. “yes i wanna cum. please can i cum?”

“go ahead, princess” he allows, he feels magnanimous today.

you don’t need anymore to be swept off your feet by the powerful orgasm crushing over you, making you throw your head back and cry out a strangled moan as your cunt uncontrollably twitches around san’s length. but before you can even come back down san flips you around you’re now facing the full length mirror as san is fondling your ass.

“i’ve always liked this nice piece of ass you bring everywhere to taunt me with.” san says before painting a harsh spank of your asscheek and fucking up into your cunt roughly.

“my turn now, princess," he says, raising his hips up with force, making you arch your back. and taking advantage of it by holding onto your ass even tighter. looking at his cock disappearing between your cheeks just to be spitted out covered with your juices, making you cream and you slowly lose your mind to his cock.

you look at the mirror. you looked like a whole mess, sweaty, your tits jumping up and down and your pussy being thoroughly destroyed by san’s big cock, used like a mere cocksleeve. your eyes are attracted by the raging thing entering and exiting your swollen, red and exhausted little cunt.

“oh m- goddd” you yelp as you cream a second time around san’s cock. the way your cunt is strangling his cock as if it never wanted to let go, as if the thought of being empty once again was unbearable is enough for san to let go of his load.

“inside” you yell.

“fuckkkk” he grunts. “fucking take my load” he pants while his thrusts go uneven as he repaints your inside your favourite shade of white making you see stars.

“thankyouthankyouthankyou” you chant as san progressively slows down and eventually pops his softening cock out of you. you look in the mirror again, some of his load running down your folds and staining the leather of the musculation bench. but before you waste any more of it you close your legs rapidly.

“good work today, princess” he said before laying a soft kiss on your lips.

“dinner’s ready~” you hear wooyoung call out and you both whip your head in the direction of the door.

“don’t forget to eat well today at dinner, don't forget the first rule” san says gently caressing your cheek. “something tells me you’ll need all the energy you can get…”

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐋 (9.32pm)

tags: praising, pet names, unprotected sex (the crowd boos), sloppy seconds, creampie, oral (f), cum eating, lil bit of spit kink, snowballing, steamy make out sesh, both wooyoung and reader are cumwhores, you both are so fucking nasty and i love it (not clickbait) wc: 1.2k

everyone is already leaving the dinner table with full and satisfied bellies when you ask wooyoung if he needs any help cleaning up.

“yes, that’d be lovely, thank you.” he smiles at you. you return the warm smile.

usually it meant one thing if wooyoung held you back after a nice home cooked meal. because he usually liked to clean off the kitchen by himself. so there was only one reason for him to keep you here: he was hungry for dessert. and you were the only one that could satisfy his craving.

as you were still full of san’s load you derogated from the “uniform” and you were allowed to wear a single pair of lacy panties. you continue to sit in them prettily as you wait for wooyoung to get done with tidying. when he said he needed your help he never actually meant cleaning so you learned with time to just wait.

“there. all done” he says, throwing the dish cloth over his shoulder and turning a bright smile to you. he had stunning long shiny dark hair tickling his ear, a long straight nose and a sharp jawline. but what was even more striking was his duality. the way the warm smile quickly swapped for a smirk.

“lay there, baby” he says pointing his chin to the table and you immediately get on your feet to lay on your back against the cold wooden dining table. “good girl” he says, palming himself through his black slacks. “spread your legs for me, pretty.”

you bring your legs up and set both your feet on the edge of the table, keeping your knees nice and wide for wooyoung to feast his eyes on you.

“shit” he says through gritted teeth as his hands apply more pressure to his growing bulge before slipping down and lightly squeezing his balls. they already feel so full and tight, ready to burst at any second. but how could he not feel like this when you’re sprawled out for him. your pretty fucking tits spilling to each side of your chest, your cute face all red, your beautiful white lace panties clinging to your folds. they are now completely see through. fully soaked in cum and your thick slick. letting the color of your pretty little pussy shine through. he can't even imagine how uncomfortable you must have felt sitting at the table all evening while your cunt was dripping cum in your panties.

“how many loads did you get today?” he asks, fumbling with his belt and taking his raging cock out. you can’t help but let a whimper out as you see his cock leaking a pearl of precum.

“one.”

“just one?” wooyoung says, surprised and a little disappointed, he was hoping for more but he was surprised just one of his member was able to cum that much. “who?”

“san”

his smirk grows wider. he wasn’t as surprised anymore. he hooks a finger to your panties and drags them to the side, letting out a sigh as he sees your slutty little cunt respond with a twitch.

“i think you deserve at least one more.” he rubs his tip against your wet folds, gathering san’s cum and your juices. “can't make a good dessert with only one load, huh?”

you nod and bite your lip, anticipating the feeling of wooyoung’s cock finally breaching you. and finally he pushes in. you can't help but let a sultry and long moan fall out of your lips as you fight the urge to close your eyes just to see wooyoung melt away at the feeling of your cunt around him.

“fuckkkk” he sighs, going slightly higher in pitch. “i don't think i'll last long. i’ll have to thank san for keeping the oven hot for me” he says, pulling out and pushing back in.

“i kept his cum nice and warm inside of me just for you” you say before wooyoung takes a punishing pace.

“oh yeah? thank you, darling” he says rutting his hips onto you and you feel a tight feeling forming in your lower abdomen. though, you know you aren't supposed to cum yet, it feels harder and harder to resist especially when you feel his cock start twitching inside you. but this part is only for wooyoung's pleasure. and you know that.

“fuck, baby. you’re so tight and warm and fucking wet for me” he says fucking himself inside you, taking his cock all the way out to smash it back in until he cums.

“fuck i’m fucking cum-”

“yes!! please give me more cum pleasepleaseplease” you said on the verge of cumming yourself.

he stills his hips and unloads deep inside you with small high pitched whimpers giving a couple of weak thrusts again, making sure to cum as deep as he can, ropes after ropes of white cum joining san’s.

“god… nnghhh” he says as he pulls out still fully hard.

he pumps his fist around his sensitive cock, making himself shiver from light overstimulation.

“fuck… spread it open for me baby, lemme see” he pants. you brought your knees on your chest and spread your hole to let him see the two loads ooze out of your abused little pussy all puffy and swollen.

“fuck it looks so fucking delicious. thank you for the meal sweetie” he says before stuffing his whole face in your leaking cunt. swiping his flat tongue across your folds. the tip of his tongue parting your lips and gathering the oozing cum and then flicking it on your clit making you whimper.

“fuck it’s s’good. san’s cum always tastes so good”

“please can i try some” you say already sticking your tongue out.

“of course, darling” he says before bending over you and spitting the mixed up loads back into your open mouth. the taste immediately goes to your head, making you dizzy. it is so strong, salty and bitter. absolutely sinful. you moan as you swallow and that compels wooyoung to kiss you. the taste mixes between your tongues. wooyoung’s wet mouth wraps around your tongue to suck on it delighting on the rich flavor, deepening the kiss until you were both out of breath, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips.

“fuck you’re so hot” he breathes before going back for seconds. this time he shoved his tongue inside your quivering hole, making more of the cocktail of juice gush out to feast on it. he alternated between your erect clit and your hole until you were a sweaty and shaking mess. your cunt was throbbing with each flick of his tongue, each time he slipped a finger inside just to scrape more cum out while you kept your pussy nice and open for him with your hands.

he was so fucking nasty, probably the nastiest out of the members but fortunately for him you always matched him.

“wooyoungie, keep going.” your toes are flexing as you feel your orgasm creeping up.

“cum in my mouth, baby. i wanna taste your cum too” he says, focusing his attention back on your clit, flicking it and wrapping his pretty lips around the nub to suck it gently instantly making you cross the line.

you throw your head back and let go of the tight knot. big sprouts of translucent liquid gush out of your cunt and right into wooyoung’s mouth who hurriedly wraps his lips around the source of the delicious fountain, loudly gulping down the precious nectar.

he gives you time to come down from your high before popping off you with a lewd sound and a prolonged satisfied sigh.

“aaaaaah” he says as you would after drinking a big swipe of cold water on a hot summer day.

“you always make the best desserts”

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈'𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 (0.12am)

tags: fingering with rings (ugggh i’m weak for him), voice kink (i said i’m weak ok? don’t judge), praises, soft degradation (f), teasing, begging, edging (f) (just a lil bit), multiple orgasms (a lot), overstim (f), possessive!mingi, quiet sex (very late in packed dorm), unprotected sex (bad), dumbification, reader is cock drunk and that's mingi’s fave thing. wc: 1.4k

After wooyoung’s encounter you badly need a shower so you hop in and let the soapy warm water relax your muscles and take some of the strain off your body.

when you step outside you see you got a text from mingi.

find me after your shower.

you dried yourself and stayed in uniform before crossing the hall and knocking on mingi’s bedroom door.

“yup, come in” you hear the deep voice behind the door. already the low rumbling sends excitement to your core. as soon as you step in he gestures to have you sit on his bed while he sits on his desk chair. the room is dark, the lights are off except for his desk lamp, his laptop is open, the mixing board is switched on and you see a couple of paper notes spread out onto the desk.

“i need your help” he says plainly. “i’m having a little problem, i can't seem to write anything good today. i need more inspiration. and you always help me with that.” he gets up and sits next to you on the bed, laying his big and warm hand on your thigh. “i need new sounds to inspire me and you make the most beautiful ones” his hand travels up your thigh to lightly brush against your core. making you stifle a little whimper. and mingi nods and hums in satisfaction. “yeah like those ones. can you make more for me, baby?” he says with a smirk pulling on his lips as he looks at you over his big glasses and spreads his legs for you to come sit between them. you nod, taking your spot between mingi’s strong thighs, leaning your back against his chest.

“fuck, you’re so well behaved darling. so well trained for me.” he sighs in your ear as he pushes your thighs open gently. his deep voice raises goosebumps on your skin and tingles in your core. one of his hands goes to tease the sensitive skin of your inner thigh while the other firmly wraps around your hip, the metal of the various rings digging into your skin, making you moan again. mingi then gently brings his hand to part your pussy lips to notice you’re already wet.

“you’re so wet already and i haven't even touched you yet” you can’t help but twitch at the way his voice sounds so much darker than it did moments ago. “you’ve always liked it when i talked to you like this. whispering in your ear, huh?” you nodded, letting your head roll on his broad shoulder. “you’re getting wet off my voice alone? you’re such a filthy little girl” he whispers, knowing damn well you’re only growing more impatient to feel his fingers inside you.

“please” you whimper.

“please what, darling? he says, swiping a finger between your folds and gathering your wetness.”

“please inside.” you say in a strangled breath as mingi is toying with you, purposely avoiding your pleasure spots. “please put your fingers inside me”

“like this” he says feigning ignorance as he thrusts two fingers inside, angling them just right on the first try, making your walls quiver around his rings.

“yessssss” you whine arching your back off his chest. you’re already so close because of the teasing and his sultry voice right in your ear.

“shhhhhh baby. be quiet” he says not moving his fingers but bringing his thumb to draw small circles on your erect and lonely clit and you bite your lips to not make another loud moan. “it’s late and we have practice in the morning. people are sleeping.” he applies a little more pressure on your clit making you throw your head back. “plus, i don't want anyone knowing what we’re doing. right now you’re with me, you're for me. me only. nobody has to know what a good little slut you’re being for me right now.” he kisses your exposed neck when you hear a scream coming from the room next door.

“FUCKING HEAL ME YOU FUCKING DUMBASS” the loud voice of jongho booms across the night.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING DOING IM 1 V 3 ON MID LANE” yunho echoes and mingi chuckles against your skin.

“let's not be like them, okay darling?” he licks the shell of your ear “your sweet little moans are only for me tonight”

you nod and he starts to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt aiming for the finish line right away. he knows exactly what he’s doing, fucking his hand into your g spot and abusing your clit with his thumb until you’re cumming all over his hand in a small little gasp that rings like heaven into mingi’s ear.

“that’s it baby, nice and slow” he says as he slows down, sparing you time to come off your high gently. but as soon as he feels your walls relaxing around his two fingers he shoves another one inside, making you gasp and fist the sheets.

“give me another one of those baby” he says immediately repeating the same pattern except this time you’re being even more stretched out by his large hand going in and out, the rings warmed up by his skin adding another complex layer of pleasure until you are clenching around his hand, your little pussy begging for release.

“m-mingi i'm gonna cum again” you announce.

“do it, darling” he whispers in your ear before you let go once again. this time it’s even more intense. you are barely able to control your volume but you manage to keep it down by muffling it with your hand. mingi slows down and gently rubs tight soft circles on your hard clit as he coos in your ear.

you are half conscious as you feel him shift behind you and lay you down on his bed before getting rid of his sweatpants and kneeling between your thighs. you feel a wet hand tease your erect nipples then his tip against your thigh before he slides inside your still slightly throbbing heat.

“oh ffffuck you’re s-so tight” he says, shoving his cum coated fingers in your mouth and you instinctively suck on them, your own taste spreading on your tongue.

“what a good little slut you are for me, darling” he starts to pump himself in and out leisurely. “i want you to cum on my cock now. you'll do that for me, right baby?”

“yethhh” you say not taking his fingers out your lips, the three digits completely filling your mouth. he can’t help but think about how fucking pretty you look like this, so fucked out before he even properly fucked you.

he took back his hand to secure you on the bed, pinning you down by the hips and started to hammer his cock into you. you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, each time his cockhead would smash back in and kiss your cervix it felt so good that your body felt like it was floating.

“f-fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.’ mingi struggled to say “are you close again? fuck, you’re definitely addictted to my cock, arent you?”

“yesyesyes i fucking love your cock” you said your body shaken by mingi’s powerful thrust.

“who’s cock, darling? say my name” he commands.

“yours! mingi! song mingi’s cock!” you blurt out, mind going blank. “fuck im fucking cumm… ngghhhh”

“good fucking girl” he groans.

you let go once again, the overwhelming weight of your third orgasm comes crushing your body as you shake uncontrollably under mingi’s weight. panting, gushing and moaning just for him, as he asked you. but this time mingi didn’t stop he continued to plow you into the mattress, chasing his own high.

“please mingi” you whimpered, your body going into overdrive from overstimulation. “i-i just c-came” you say, your pussy still fluttering around him.

“cum for me again baby, please” he growls, his voice even lower, even sultrier, even nastier. “i'm almost there too. cum with me”

he keeps on abusing your shapeless hole until you find the familiar warmth building up again despite the overwhelming sensation. tears start to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“pleaseplease. cum mingi i can’t take it anymore i need your cum” you plead, shaken by sobs.

“fuck you sound so good begging for my cum, darling. then fucking take it” he says as he brings you with him to another earth shattering orgasm. you writhe underneath him from the power of the orgasm mingi is forcing onto your weak body as he delivers burning hot cum deep into you, his cock twitching with each thick white rope that spurts from his slit. before he collapses next to you.

you both catch your breath for a second before you hear more angry gamer noises come from next door.

“i think they’re gonna need you too” he says before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 2𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 (1.04am)

tags: very rough, kinda cnc vibes (consent is given in the intro part of the fic), big cawk!yunho, thick cawk!jongho, manhandling, hairpulling, throat fucking, spit roasting/eiffel tower, dacryphilia, answering a phone call during gut reorganisation session (uwu), objectification, yunho and jongho are mean, like really mean but we love to see it <3 wc: 1.5k

you stretch in the hall on your way to the bathroom. you think to yourself you might as well take a second shower but you hear rambling in the hall.

“where is she?” yunho’s voice starts. “i thought i heard her getting out of mingi’s room”

then the door is violently pushed open by jongho.

“she’s here” he says. “come here we need you.”

he looks terrifying. he’s absolutely pissed. for a second, you even truly believe you did something to anger him but then you recall how you heard them lose game after game when you were busy with mingi.

jongho grabs you by the hips and swings you effortlesly on his shoulder to take you across the hall, you can't help but to whimper and squirm meekly. you’ve always liked when the boys are worked up and get rough with you. some of them treat you like a fragile little bird most times but you could always count on this duo to put you back in your place and manhandle you.

he pushes in the door of yunho's room and throws you on his bed. you take a look around yunho's computer is still running. and yunho stands next to it with crossed arms. he steps towards the bed and towers over you, standing next to Jongho, casting his huge shadow onto you.

yunho is usually very kind to you. he usually likes to fuck you missionnary call you sweet pet names and look you in the eyes while he’s deep inside your guts. but when he’s angry, he is someone else entirely.

he doesn't say a word when he reaches for the fly of his jeans and jongho grabs you by the hair to shove your face right under his bandmate’s crotch. you faintly whimper at the dull pain on your scalp but forget it instantly when yunho pulls his monstrous cock out of his jeans. he was easily the biggest out of them all. his cock is already so hard and red that it has your mouth watering at the sight.

“open your mouth, whore” jongho says, tightening his grip around your hair, making you moan in the process. you don’t wait a sec and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. yunho then lays his cock on your flat tongue and pushes himself in with a low groan that has you shuddering beneath him.

“fuckkk that's what i needed” he sighes as he reaches the back of your throat. your mouth is already so full but a few centimeters are still hanging out so yunho wraps his large hand around your nape and thrusts himself in in one go. tears start to prickle your eyes and you cough, gasping for air, pushing on yunho’s hips but he doesn't budge.

“fuck- you feel s’good shit” yunho says when he feels your throat clenching around him, desperately trying to push him out to regain access to oxygen. and the more you fight back the more jongho just laughs at your misery.

“look at me” yunho commands and your watery eyes snap back to him. his usually warm puppy eyes are dark, filled with simmering rage that you know is your job to cool down. and it’s exactly what you intend to do. letting the two men play with you until they both turn back into their happy and kind personality.

yunho pulls out and you are finally able to breathe again, you gasp for air and cough. but before you can recover jongho lifts you up again and puts you down on all fours on the soft mattress.

“i want her mouth” jongho says first.

yunho groans again. you know how much he likes to play with your mouth and watch you struggle to take him whole.

“fine” he says, getting on the bed and going behind you. he passes his thumb over your pussy, making you jolt forward and he chuckles when he feels how wet you are.

“i wanted to take a quick shower befo-”

“mingi did that to you didn’t he?” he interrupts.

“yes”

he rubs his spit coated tip between your folds, the hot feeling has you melting and you bite your lips trying not to wiggle your ass to urge him to fill you up.

“i'll have to thank him. warming up my favourite little cock sleeve for me” he starts to push himself in, making you whimper. “he really is a good friend”

you gasp when he fits the last couple of centimeters inside your tight and crowded heat, making mingi’s cum ooze out in the process.

you are so full of his cock, so deliriously stretched out that big tears start to run down your heated cheeks and that makes jongho chuckle. he lifts your chin up, pushing the hair out of your face.

“you’re so pretty when you cry baby” he coos. “you love dick so much that you just start crying from sheer happiness everytime you’re fucked full of cock” he caresses your cheek with one hand while the other pulls on his sweat pants to let his girthy cock spring free.

“you’re a cock hungry little whore aren't you?” jongho whispers while he rubs his hot cockhead on your cheek, then your lips.

“oh fuck” you say as yunho starts to pick up the pace, instantly clouding your judgement and making you see stars.

“say it” jongho commands, voice growing stern as he holds your chin up, his fingernails digging into your skin.

“yes!! i'm a cock hungry whore!!” you cave in. “i love cocks. it’s all i think about every day, every second!! pleasepleaseplease let me have yours. i want your cock so bad, jongho” you cry, more pretty tears rolling on your face, which couldn't make jongho happier.

he stuffs his thick cock into your mouth, making your lips stretch out around it. you moan on it and instinctively start to bop your head. you have your eyes on the price. you would do anything for another hot load of delicious cum.

“god- fuck-” jongho says in a strangled moan as he watches you hollow your cheeks, each of your movement facilitated by yunho fucking you at the back and pushing you further down on jongho’s cock.

the three of you find the perfect rhythm as you moan on both their cocks your mind progressively fogging up and you don't even realize your phone is ringing before jongho holds it to your ear, not taking his cock out your mouth.

“it’s hyung” he says and you barely register the voice of hongjoong on the other end of the line when you feel the cool glass of the screen on your hot ear.

“oh! i see you’re busy right now”

“mhppff” you only manage to respond a muffled moan as jongho fucks your face.

“good girl” hongjoong praises and you can almost hear the smirk through the phone. “come by the studio when you’re done. i need you for something” hongjoong asks. jongho passes the phone to yunho.

“don't worry hyung, we’re almost done with her” he then hangs up and throws the phone on the bed. before grabbing both your hips and pulling your ass back on his cock with force. you struggle not to scream from sheer pleasure as yunho twitches inside you.

“now i'm gonna get you what you’ve been waiting for” he leans over you and you feel his chest against your damp back as you arch it trying to get him even deeper inside you.

“f-fucking whore look at you begging for more cum” jongho struggles to say between pants, gathering your hair onto a strong grip. “you’re insatiable”.

“good little fucking cumslut” yunho groans as his orgasm rips through him, his cock twitches inside you and your walls clench around him milking him for all his worth, the warm and full sensation of his cum filling you up makes the tight knot inside your guts snap and you find yourself shaking uncontrollably as your orgasm radiates in all your limbs, your cunt throbbing around yunho’s cock, desperate to get every single drop of cum out of him and inside you.

“ffffffuck” jongho sighs. “you’re so fucking hot when you cum” he says as he takes his cock out of your mouth and angles your face upward by the hair. he only has to pump himself a couple of times making slick lewd noises before he lets out a low grunt and cums all over your face.

“fuckkk” he sighs. “so fucking pretty with my cum on your fucked out face” he doesn’t stop stroking his thick cock until you are covered with white and sticky cum. you open your mouth instinctively in the hopes of catching some squirts onto your eager tongue.

you all crash on the bed, entangled in each other, sweaty, sticky and wet. none of you talk and it’s peaceful again. yunho wraps his arms around your waist and cuddles into you, your puppy is back and jongho big spoons you. everything has fallen back into place and you helped the boys deal with their frustration and anger. then you hear someone clearing their throat. you lift your head and see the phone screen shining.

“hm…you didn’t hang up… so i didn’t either.”

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 (2.43am).

tags: somno (aka cnc, consent given in intro part), wet dreams, pet names, praises, oral (f), forced orgasm while asleep (consensual!!!), biting, multiple orgasms (f & m), light overstim (m), unprotected sex (do we see a pattern? yes we do), creampie wc: 1.3k

you were supposed to help hongjoong in the studio. you thought you could do it when you were on the way over here. the fresh air of the night kept you nice and awake after the quick shower you took when jongho and yunho were done playing with you.

but now that you’re here, settled on the comfortable couch in the small heated studio you can't help but to feel your eyelids grow heavy. moreover, hongjoong might have asked you to come but he’s been busy working on songs not paying any mind to you. in the peaceful quiet you soon you slip into slumber.

hongjoong find it suspiciously quiet and turns around only to find you asleep on the couch, comfortably wrapped in a long padded coat. he walks up to you and smiles down on you. you look so peaceful laying there, your body exhausted by tending to the other members all day. he recalls the way yunho and jongho treated you earlier today and feels arousal start to tingle in his lower half.

he wants to use you too… but it’s late and you’re so tired… you deserve to rest a little bit. but he doesn't necessarily need to wake you up, does he?

he pinches the zipper of your padded coat and pulls on it to discover with a smirk that you are in fact in “uniform” underneath it. he palms himself as he imagines you walking around at night outside wearing only your sneakers and this coat.

his hand brushes over your collarbone and your nipples which harden at the lightest of touch, making him chuckle.

“such a well trained little kitten” he purrs quietly.

he touches your waist then your hips then your thighs, still no reaction from you. you must really be drained, he thinks before he pushes your thighs open where he discovers with wonder your pretty little pussy slightly shiny in the dim lighting of the studio.

“is kitten having a naughty dream?” he wonders as he passes a long slender finger on your slit and you frown and exhale a quiet little sound. “looks like it” he concludes. “looks like you need a little help to get there”

he then leans over and brings his face between your thighs and licks a large swipe from your entrance to your clit. you emit a quiet moan but still you don’t wake. hongjoong starts to focus on your clit giving soft and lazy flicks against it until he sees your arousal pooling out of your little hole.

“good job, kitten” he praises softly as he dips down his tongue to gather as much of your essence as possible. he hums in satisfaction, relishing in your taste. he keeps on licking and sucking gently at your clit until he feels the familiar twitch on his tongue. he knows you are close from how you’re breathing quickened. he looks up at you to see you frown but you are still sound asleep.

he wonders if he can make you cum while you still enjoy a well deserved rest so he pushes the teasing a little further. the licks and flicks have more purpose and he focuses more of his attention on your clit making breathy little sounds escape your parted lips until you grow quiet once more, the muscles of your thighs tense up and hongjoong understands you’re cumming. you stay exceptionally quiet as your naughty little pussy gushes thick translucent slick and throbs on hongjoong’s tongue.

he’s played with you quite a lot before but it’s the first time he’s made you cum in your sleep. it was the hottest thing ever and he suddenly yearns to have you flutter like this but this time around his cock. he steps out of his comfortable sweatpants and takes it out. even he was surprised to see how worked up he got from eating your pretty and unsuspecting little cunt. his cockhead was red and leaking thick precum. he just couldn't wait anymore.

he positions himself between your legs and aligns his tip with your entrance. he shivers when he invites himself in. you were feeling absolutely divine. he bites his lips to prevent himself from making too much noise. he wants to keep you like this: nice and peaceful, he doesnt want to disturb the poor little thing sleeping.

he starts off slow, pumping his cock in and out lazily but as time goes on you grow tighter around him and it compels him to pick up the pace. he tries not to go too hard, not to shake you too much but you feel so heavenly that soon he aches to have you cumming around him. he desperately wants to feel you clench down on his cock, while you lie there asleep, your trained little slut cunt only acting out of pure whore instinct. that thought alone makes him dizzy. so he lays his thumb against your hard clit and starts rubbing it in a circle. you were closer than he thought because a couple of movements later you are cumming around him. you clench down so hard that hongjoong can't help the high pitched noise that escapes him as he lets go. he loses himself in your sopping wet cunt, his thrusts grow erratic and harsher while he delivers what feels like gallons of hot cum inside you.

the tightness, the fullness, the pleasure you feel… gradually it makes the sleepiness go away. you feel the immense pleasure of your orgasm crushing your body before you’re even conscious of it. but your eyes snap open and you see hongjoong plowing into you turning your slutty little pussy inside out while you milk his cock for all its worth.

“aaaah…. nghh… joongie” you moan your voice still a little groggy, your toes curling as your orgasm slips from a dream to a reality. until hongjoong’s hips slow down and you can finally fully wake up while he fucks you lazily, feeling shivers of overstimulation on his spine.

“good morning, kitten” he says, the new dawn seeping through the closed blinds.

“again please joongie” you beg, trying to match his rhythm, your hips shaking underneath him.

“fuck” hongjoong groans as his hands wrap around your waist. “you’re insatiable you know that? you came twice before you can even wake up and you’re already begging for a third one? aren’t you the perfect little whore?”

you hum in agreement and he picks up the pace again. this time it’s brutal, you are shaken underneath him and he buries his face in the crook of your neck to fight off the overstimulation on his sensitive cock.

“fuckkk kittken, you’re gripping so tight”

“y-yes joongie. i’m so fuckn- close… please don’t stoppp” you beg, feeling your third orgasm coming through.

“fuck i’m cumm…” hongjoong moans in your neck. “i’m fucking cuming again. you’re fucking milking my cock, kitten” he says through gritted teeth right before biting your neck as your both cum wrapped up in each other. his load is weaker then the previous one but the orgasm surely isn’t by the way his cock twitches inside you, fucking another load inside you and making the previous one ooze out and coat your thighs.

you also shake under him, his teeth still bored onto your soft skin. the pain and pleasure make you cum hard. your sloppy cunt clenching and throbbing around him, your orgasm washing over you like a heat wave of pleasure.

hongjoong pulls out to see the results of his hard work dribble down your slit and coat your folds in pretty white while your sex lightly pulses. he turns his head to the screensaver on his laptop to look at the time.

“we should head back and sleep…” he wrapped his arm under your head and lifted you up as you were already slipping back into blissful sleep, your sex drive finally satisfied after fucking every single one of the member in a day. “we have practice tomorrow. yunho will kill us if we fuck up the dance break.”

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐘 𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄

tags: free use, gangbang, blowbang, bukkake, praises, degradation, so much dirty talk it's actually insane, masturbation (f & m), exhibitionism, handjob, fingering (f), unprotected sex, triple penetration (2v+1a), anal , overstim (m), forced orgasm (m), indirect mxm kinda i guess and so. much. fucking. cum… i’m dead serious about this one. wc: 2.8k

the next day for practice all your muscles are sore but you still intend to give your best. sure you mostly danced in the back but the choreography needs to look flawless and for that you have to at least be believable.

As soon as you step inside the room, you slip out your coat and clothes to get back into “uniform” as mandated. the practice session is led by yunho and you carefully listen and go over the parts of the choreo that need polishing.

but after several hours of practicing your nature gets the best of you. you can't help but notice the boys in their sleeveless tank tops, their fitted contraption shirts or even their grey sweatpants that leave little to the imagination. truth is you’re so used to having their hands on you, you’ve grown addicted to it. without realizing you start to crave their eyes on you, their touch, their attention. you ache for your body to be played with, to be filled to the brim, to be made sticky and covered with their essence.

so you take advantage of a down time where yunho is going over the dance break once again with yeosang and you sit on the floor with your bare back against the white wall to relieve yourself of the pent up lust.

you spread your legs and let your fingers dip between your folds to find yourself already covered in slick. no wonder you were this horny, you’re already wet. you don't waste a single more second and push in a finger. you can't help but sigh delightfully at the feeling of your finger scraping your walls just right. you want more.

you slip a second one inside and curl them slightly to reach your soft spot. with your other hand you muffle your moans to a minimum and start to pump your fingers in and out. it feels fucking divine, and you don’t even notice the first member stepping towards you to enjoy the show you so gracefully provided. it’s jongho, the main vocalist usually doesn’t participate in the dance break since he’s usually delivering the high notes at the same time. hence why he was the only one not paying attention to yunho.

you suddenly stop and look up and you see his sneakers coming into your already blurred out vision.

“no,” he pulls out his already half hard cock out of his sweatpants. “keep going, darling. you know how much i like to watch”.

“o-okay” you said meekly, slowly fingering yourself again.

“yeah just like that, so pretty” he said, his other hand tightly wrapping around his balls. then another voice and a new pair of sneakers joined.

“why didn’t you say she was touching herself, jongho?” san’s voice speaks. “i wanna watch too” you look up to see him palm himself through his gray sweatpants, the lining of his growing bulge becoming more visible by the second.

“can you spread it open for us, doll?” another voice says, deeper, more strained. you hadn't noticed mingi coming off on to your other side. judging by the way his cock was leaking he might have been rubbing himself for as long as you.

“y-yes.” you slip your fingers out, not failing to also make visible long and stretchy strings of slick connecting them to your fluttering heat which made some of your audience gasp faintly. you place both hands on each side and pull on the skin, your pussy opens up and they all start to pump their fist around their cocks a little faster as they collectively hum and groan in approval.

“so fucking juicy,” jongho complimented. squeezing his balls tighter.

“you’re so cute, doll. so pretty.”

you can't help but blush as their eyes are fixated on your pussy. you slip the same cum coated fingers back in before you feel someone hold your other hand and lay it over their bulge. you looked up to see hongjoong.

“go on, darling. you know what to do” you nod before you keep on fingering yourself and rub hongjoong through his pants, making him grunt.

“fuck baby, you couldn’t even wait till the end of practice, could you?” you hear wooyoung say. you shake your head.

“no, i couldn't stop thinking about your cocks” you say, your eyebrows meeting on your forehead. “i’m sorry i’m such a desperate whore for my members’ cocks.” you look up at them gathered around you with glazed over eyes.

“fffffuck” mingi grunted. “i love when you talk dirty like that, doll”.

“show me.” san says before he grabs your arm, ripping your fingers off your heat, leaving the poor little thing pulsing around nothing. “show me how desperate you are," he said, wrapping your slick covered hand around his girthy cock.

you meekly protested at the new emptiness inside you but you soon forget about it when you start pumping your fist loosely around him.

then you feel someone wrap their hand around the other one. your head wips back to the other side and you see seonghwa pull out hongjoong’s cock out of his pants wrapping your hand around his dick.

“there you go, baby. i'll help you” he starts to move your hand up and down hongjoong’s cock as the latter whistles through gritted teeth. you match the rhythm san settled.

“i hope we aren't late to the party” yunho says, also taking his cock out to stroke it to the outrageous display of lust.

“yeah don't start without us” yeosang adds.

“don't worry we didn't even take her mouth yet” mingi assures.

“good because that’s my spot” yunho says. “jongho took it from me yesterday.” he steps closer, pressing his hot cock to your face and you instinctively open your mouth to let him slip inside.

“fuck i gotta taste her” you heard wooyoung say before feeling a long finger brush over your folds and you spot wooyoung bring said finger to his mouth. “fuck. you taste so fucking good, darling.”

“i wanna taste her too” yeosang says and wooyoung dips his finger into your folds again. only this time plunging his middle finger inside your hole to gather even more nectar.

“here.” he holds his hand to yeosang’s face and he licks around his bandmate's fingers, closing his eyes, focussing solely on your rich flavour. “fuckkk she tastes like honey” yeosang exhales.

wooyoung then lays flat on the practice floor room, on his stomach and makes his way to your core. he starts to lick you, his tongue flicks around the hard bud. making you arch your back into the cold wall.

“fuckkk” you manage to briefly say before yunho fucks himself into your mouth again. your consciousness slowly slips away from you as you become entranced by them. by their scent, by the way they feel on your body, by the way they look at you. you can only think of their cocks. in this instant you are convinced that's what you were made for. to be their toy. to be their little pleasure slave. there was nothing you desired more.

“make me some room, hyung” jongho said, standing next to yunho. he took his girthy cock in his hand and slapped it flat against your cheek a couple of times while your lips were still stretched out by the older one. you felt heat on your cheek as it stung lightly.

“again pleathh” you say.

“what a good little pain slut” yeosang praises, pumping his cock faster. jongho then slaps you again with his cock making you wince and moan as you tried not to go insane from wooyoung expertly eating you out.

then yunho pulled out.

“fuckkk i can’t” he says out of breath. “i'm gonna cum i need a break”

“my turn” mingi immediately says, stepping in as he takes yunho’s place. he brings you forth and you find yourself kneeling instead of sitting. everyone adjusts themselves around you before mingi puts his cock inside you.

“aaaahh” he sighs and you feel him twitch on your tongue instantly. “such a good little whore mouth” he says.

“hyung, it's my turn” you hear yeosang tell hongjoong and he switches places with him. while seonghwa still offers assistance, his gentle but assured grip still around your wrist, making sure the rhythm doesn't falter.

you all fuck each other like this for a while. frequently the boys take turns with your hands and into your mouth then switch and you feel them getting closer. they also slip between your legs and lap up at your pussy, all of them crazy for your taste, hongjoong and seonghwa even managing to have both of them licking your cunt at the same time.

“fuck. baby, i need your pussy” san said as he was twitching on your tongue.

“me too” wooyoung said from underneath you.

“o-okay” you pant. “i’ll take you both at the same time”

they both lay on their backs, facing one another, their legs over each other that way they were able to have both their cock stand next to each other. you hovered over them while the others watched in awe as you started squatting. you align your entrance with both their cocks and start to lower your hips.

“ngghhh” you clench your teeth from the sheer stretch of your pussy. the others stare at the way your hole extend beyond repair to accept their cocks. “oh f-fuckkk” you let out as you keep on descending on their cocks until you were able to fit them both inside, sweat pearling at your temples from the effort.

“fuck thats so hot let me see” mingi says, pushing jongho out of his way and pumping his balled fist around his length while they all stare in wonder.

“fuck baby. you look so hot with your pretty little pussy filled to the brim like this” yunho says.

“start bouncing on their cocks, darling” jongho orders.

you start to move up and down first very slowly, careful not to injure yourself but as time goes on you grow more comfortable and soon you are bouncing full speed on both their cocks making the two men moan and groan, making them slightly trust up into you, matching your rhythm.

“fuck i need a go too” seonghwa say, circling the three of you coming behind you. he rubs his cockhead on your ass, his gentle hand gently bending you down slitghly. he presses his tip to your asshole. “d’you have a little room for me too, darling?”

you nod vigorously, stilling your hips briefly.

“yesyesyesyesyes please i want your cock in my ass pleaseee” you are so delirious on cock, you can't help but beg mindlessly for more. if you could get them all inside you at the same time you would without hesitation.

“so greedy~” yeosang mocks stepping near you and pressing his leaking cock to your cheek.

“stay still for a second, pretty” seonghwa says as he keeps on pressing his cock to your ass, you feel the large head breaching your hole, slowly progressing with low grunts, feeling every single one of your rings clenching tightly around him. “fuck she’s so fucking tight” he exhales, continuing to push himself in, until he fits all of his cock inside your narrow little hole. you feel yourself throb around the three cocks inside you.

instantly you start bouncing again. making them moan louder. your tits are jumping up and down with each movement and all of them watch avidly as you greedily took all the cocks you possibly could.

“please please please please” you chant like a prayer, “more cocks please” you cry, opening your mouth eagerly and bringing attention to your empty palms, tears rolling on cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

“awww you’re so cute.” yeosang coos. “there you go baby, another one” he whispers softly, fitting himself inside your mouth, his large hand gently stroking your hair to soothe you. while yunho and jongho take care of your hands.

“thang youmpf tho muchk” you struggle to say, more large tears rolling down your cheeks from sheer bliss. you immediately start to suck on yeosang, looking up at him and the others beside you, not breaking eye contact as you slurp and hollow your cheeks eagerly. matching the rhythm with your hands and earning pleasured groans from the main vocalist and the main dancer.

“fuckkk. she’s so impatient. i’m gonna bust” yeosang says as you become aware of his orgasm, you hollow your cheeks and suck even harder, looking him in the eye as he lets himself go, his cock spurts cum on your tongue but also all over your face.

“ah fuckkkk” he sighs with other profanities whistling through his teeth, before stepping to the side.

“my turn, baby” hongjoong says filling your mouth without a second thought.

“yetthth mwore” you rejoice, making the thick and salty cum roll on your tongue.

mingi steps closer, his cock in his hand looking about ready to explode. “fuck, you look so good like this full of cocks and covered in cum, doll” he pumps himself rapidly, standing next to hongjoong. “want more?”

“yetthh” you say with your mouth full.

“take it then- ah fuck- take my fucking cum-... like a good little slut” he sighs as he finally lets go on your face. some precious cum even reaching hongjoong’s shaft still filling your mouth which you hurriedly eat off his cock before the latter also releases in and out of your mouth. making a beautiful abstract painting on your face of three generous loads.

“fuccckkkkkkkk i’m gonna blow” seonghwa says from behind you right before adding yet another load to your precious collection except this one was deep into your ass and all over your ass cheeks and back.

“yesyes thank youuuu” you pant right before jongho replaces hongjoong in your mouth.

“baby i need your ass too” you hear yunho behind you before he also pushes himself inside your tight hole, the stretch feels amazing and you almost cum on the spot from it. He is so thick and big and reaches so deep, it’s heavenly and you moan on the youngest’s cock.

“oh my god-” you say in a strangled moan “please fill my ass with more cum please”

“what a good little cum slut you are” jongho praises. "you beg so well” he thrusts inside your mouth.

“god i won’t be able to last long” wooyoung says, his hips fucking up into you growing more and more erratic.

“just hold on a little longer," san says.

“fuck i- i can’t” he whimpes before he released his cum deep inside your cunt. that urges you to bounce harder on both their cocks. wooyoung starts to moan in a very high pitched tone as he had just cum and his cock was over sensitive, he squirms beneath you but you just can’t stop. you can’t think straight and you can’t get enough of their cocks.

“fuck slow down i just came” he pleads.

“no, i'm almost there” san commands, his large callous hands fly to your waist to make you bounce even harder.

“fuckkk please” wooyoung whines so pathetically.

“i’m almost there too, baby- aah. don't s-stop” yunho says behind you so you keep on going, your fire fueled by wooyoung’s adorable little pleas of despair. he sounds so cute you want to hear more of them.

“fuckkk. there you go baby i’m- i’m- … cumming” san says as his cock shot more delicious white inside your greedy little cunt.

“fuck oh my god-” wooyoung cries. “i’m cumming a-againnnn-... nggghh” he moans in a strangled breath, his hips miserably thrusting upwards into your creamed little pussy.

“yeah m-me too” yunho grunts. “fuckk imma fuck your ass full of fucking cum”.

“yeehtth please” you beg as jongho grabs your head with both his strong hands and fucks your throat, his thick cock head forcing itself down to your stomach.

“fuckkkkkk” jongho groans in unison with the others. yunho follows san delivering more cum into your rear end then jongho who preferred to give it to you directly into your stomach. his cock was so far down your throat that you didn't even need to swallow.

your pussy and your ass clench around the cocks still nestled inside you and this overwhelming feeling makes you cum on the spot, you are full of cocks and cum all over your weak body, perfectly ruined by your members. cum on your face, in your hair, in your mouth, in your pussy, in your ass, everywhere. they smeared themselves everywhere on you. you truly belong to them. those men own you. and you are just so happy to be able to fulfill your purpose. the thought makes you finish and you scream from pure bliss around jongho’s cock until you all collectively come to a stop.

they all slip out of you and admire the thick fluids trickling out of your exhausted shapeless holes. you look so beautiful like this. thoroughly used and ruined. the prettiest fucktoy. undoubtedly, the perfect addition to the group. the best 9th member.

a/n: omggggg i can't believe it's finally here!! i've had this fic in my drafts for so longgg. it's such a different concept for me. i hope you enoyed if you did please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment? thank you <3

want more? maybe you'd be interested in this 18k ot8 fic i wrote synopsis. yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips

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taglist: @ateezlover-120 @bro-atz @woohwababes @claimmeyourprincess @wisejudgedragonhairdo @iheartjazz444 @cybxrpnk @smally97 @redzie02 @alexxbear69 @therealcuppicake @hellomingi @lomons @sanhwalvr @m00gyu @weedforthoughtz @mingisprincess @vtyb23 @bkimrose @blonde-bummer

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asce-of-hearts · 7 months ago

Note

Can I request a smut with yandere illumi with a size kink & noncon?

Powerless

Contents: Yandere!Illumi x gn!reader smut scenario.

more Illumi content here

WARNINGS: YANDERE, ARRANGED MARRIAGE IMPLIED, NSFW, DUB/NON-CON, SIZE KINK, BREEDING KINK, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS DNI, AFAB!BODIED READER OTHERWISE GENDER NEAUTRAL.

"Who cares about what you want?" His words are as cold as ever, devoid of emotion. You're half naked, barely able to cover yourself with the bed-sheets, he's shirtless, jet black hair falling over his shoulders.

"You should care." You answer meekly, gasping when he effortlessly tugs away the sheets from your body. "We're married. My desires should matter to you." He tilts his head to the side slightly, and you wonder if this is just another case of miscommunication. His voice is always so even, you've had a hard time distinguishing when he's joking to when he's serious because of this. "I-It really isn't funny, Illumi."

"I'm not trying to amuse you, ___." He's always so robotic, you feel your skin crawl.

"I understand. But- Still... I want to sleep now. I don't want to make love." You breathe in deeply, trying to calm down. "We'll have time for that later... when I'm ready."

When you open your eyes after those words, he's naked and on top of you. His eyes fixed on your face, his body caging yours. You try to move, but he has you trapped against the mattress. He's smiling, amused.

"Make love? When you're ready?" He lets out a chuckle, showing emotion for once. "Don't be absurd. Sex is for reproductive purposes, and from what I know about you..." His eyes travel downwards, to your naked stomach. "This is the best time to put my seed inside of you."

"Illumi!" You scream when he tears at your clothes, he shuts you up by pressing his palm against your mouth, shoving your face against the pillows. Your eyes fill with tears, he's able to manhandle you so easily. He's strong, far too strong. He twists you around to his liking, finding an angle where he's able to line the tip of his cock with the entrance of your cunt. He rubs it against your clit, at least helping you get a little slick.

He tries to push past the tight ring of muscle, barely able to get the tip inside.

"Huh?" He says, more to himself than to your teary eyed form. "Seems like you're too tight for penetration."

"I'm telling you!" You cry out, struggling against the hand that keeps you pinned down. You let out a choked scream when he pushes again, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

"It doesn't matter, He groans, his free hand squeezing at your hip, that will surely leave a bruise. "I'll make it fit." His hand travels down to your clip, rubbing it in circular motions that seem far too calculated, it doesn't matter how much you try to deny it, you're getting wetter by the second. "Who would've thought you would be so tiny to fit me? It's my fault too I suppose, I should've thought about it." He smiles again, the hand pinning you to the pillow relenting as he runs his fingers through your hair.

You're limp, sniffling as you stare at the wall. He's finally able to slip all the way inside, bottoming out with a satisfied groan.

"You're so warm inside..." He says, slowly pulling out until only the tip is inside, then slamming back inside you with as much strength as he can without harming you. "Maybe I'll end up liking it too much and making love to you for fun, not just for babies."

He grins, he's making fun of you. You can only moan, taking in the brutal way he thrusts inside of you.

"Wouldn't you like that, ___? Making love to me."

hope you enjoyed this!!

have a great day/night

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kiss-me-muchoo · 4 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: here // part two: kiss away

summary_ amidst studying in Korea and having an ordinary life, you fall in love with a wealthy man, but turns out he had too many secrets, for example, being married.

warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst, jeong-won is still tormented but it’s truly happy with reader, reader wants to be a teacher and is implied to be American, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ pls listen to angel of satisfaction is such a banger 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋♬⋆. Using the salesman tag bc we need to avoid the flop okay?

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

In his arms, you felt safe.

With his kisses, you felt cherished.

The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.

He couldn’t resist the temptation. Couldn’t miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.

“Please, believe me…” he pleaded.

“Fuck you, Jeong-Won”

Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours, but you slipped, leaving him.

Like you had already done before.

But it didn’t make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.

And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.

You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.

…

[eight months ago]

Leaving your comfort zone was something you hated. But as soon as you grasped the change, you easily adapted to it.

For a couple of months, surviving all alone in South Korea seemed like it would never cease to feel like a struggle. But you were patient enough to make friends, move out of the dorms of university, and find a home in the wealthy godmother of yours who let you stay at an apartment she had.

Her kindness was so big that she even arranged a full remodeling project that lasted months.

And it was one of those weekends when you finished early your assignments and essays that a plan popped out. Working as a counselor assistant did little to support you financially but the aid from your home government was a good complement. Hence why you couldn’t refuse a night out with your friends; Jade, Ruby, and Seoun-mi.

“Can you pass me the highlighter?” Asks your blonde friend Ruby. It was Seoun-mi who passed her the shiny compact while rolling her eyes. “You already used it, Ruby”

“It’s not enough” You start laughing and Jade joins you.

“Don’t you girls think my dress is a little too much?” You ask pointing at the bright orange dress with scattered sequins hanging from your door. “Do you want to meet guys?”

“God no” you reply to Jade, shaking your head.

“Then wear black tights and some fitted boots” Ruby suggests, which comforts you enough to agree.

“The club we’re going to is not popular with foreigners or students. Boys won’t hit on us” Seoun-mi states, putting on her kneels.

“Good” you affirm. “I’m not in the mood for men”

…

Even with the lights out and neon flashes flying all over the place, your orange dress was making a statement. But in the company of your friends, you weren’t paying attention. A Nelly Furtado song from the 2000s was playing when Ruby complained she wanted some vodka. It was you who offered to ask for it.

And it was then when Han Jeong-Won was coming out of the restroom after smoking a cigarette. He had been deep into shit in that same place months ago, barely conscious and fighting a man. But now, he was at the club, along with the mere purpose of disconnecting from his life for a little while.

The crowd only swayed along to the music, Jeong-Won seated at the bar, but he couldn’t help but notice you were the only person actually dancing, it made him stare longer. Until he caught himself eyeing you up and down.

Definitely foreigner; lousy, careless but refined.

It was such a big coincidence that you walked towards him when the song was over. He heard you laughing at something your friends said in the distance. Fluid English coming out of your mouth.

“Hi! Any vodka or tequila?” You don’t look at the man beside you, his elbow almost touching your ribs. “Just vodka. Bottle or ?….”

“The bottle is fine” you confidently say, the bartender nods and disappears to get your wish.

“Fun Saturday?” The man beside you asked. You turned to eye him, surprised to hear his English was very good. And of course, his attractiveness didn’t pass unnoticed by you.

“I guess so…” you say nodding. “Hey, your English is really good”

“It was a requirement in university” his voice was deep, and even in the middle of the chaos of the club, you could hear him perfectly well. “I wasn’t very good at the beginning”

“Oh, so are you done with your career?” He nodded, drinking from his glass, which seemed to be something like a mojito. “Music engineer”

“You produce? Show me something you’ve done, I love music. There is no day without me playing music…” he chuckles and you realize you were flirting, almost making you freeze. “I do produce actually. But what about you?”

“I’m trying to get into the educational department. I really like to write. So University counselor or professor will be fine…” he nods, hiding his surprise and awe.

“That’s really nice…” his fingers twirl around the straw of his drink, a little smirk in the corner of his lips. “Maybe you can show me your writings one day…”

Your smile grows playful, accepting the fact that he is also flirting with you.

“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?”

“We’re just talking”

“You’re right, my bad…” both of you laugh.

The bartender ruined the moment, he handed you the bottle and you handed back a bill. You offer the mystery man a last glance before turning to leave.

“Hey!” You turn to see him. “I didn’t get your name or anything…”

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again!” you say smiling before disappearing into the crowd of people dancing.

Jeong-won remained there seated, smiling as he finished his drink. And at that moment he realized how much he had smiled in the short span of less than ten minutes.

…

The sound of your stomach growling made your steps hurry up, almost jogging down the street. You arrived at a burger shop, eager to order.

“Just no cheese and no onion please” the girl nods, handing you your receipt and your cup. “Thanks”

As your order awaits, you pick diet cherry vanilla coke from the soda fountain. You hear your number and after grabbing your bag, you are ready to eat outside because the weather is nice. Your receipt falls and when you’re about to pick it up, a big hand does it for you.

It’s him.

“So it was meant to be?….” He asks as soon as he notices it’s you as well. You smile briefly, before feeling your cheeks are heating up. “Apparently…”

He was wearing a sweatshirt and some jacket, jeans, and random sneakers. He was very handsome. With the help of the daylight, you can see he’s older than you. But he’s still gorgeous.

“Where are your friends?” You roll your eyes playfully. “They have classes today”

“And you don’t?” He had also picked up his order and looked tired. “No, I always avoid classes on Fridays or the weekends”

“Ah, smart girl” he sounds so perfect, too nice and calm.

“So, any plans? Or you wanted to eat alone?”

“Well, I planned to eat outside and then take the sub to a mall. I need some new clothes…” Still holding his bag or food, he nodded.

“I’ll propose you something…”

“Uh huh?” He nods again, chuckling.

“You eat with me inside and I take you to the mall” Finally your cheeks heat up completely and he notices.

“Dude, I don’t even know your name” both of you start laughing.

“Han Jeong-Won”

“I’m y/n”

Both of you smile and then you offer your hand for him to shake. Which he considers so occidental, but agrees to do so.

And once again, he noticed how much he was smiling and forgetting about some details of his life.

…

An hour and a half later, you know more about his job, but mostly he asked about you, which made you feel like he wasn’t trying to show off. Or he could be hiding something but he was very chill and kind. After finishing your food, both of you walk outside.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me,” you say chuckling, abruptly stopping at the parking lot.

Jeong-won owned a grey Hennessey Venom F5 and was proudly standing beside the driver’s door.

“This is too much for me” he starts laughing.

“Stop trying to sound humble”

“But I am!” You reply also laughing. “I like some expensive stuff but mostly I find this very ostentatious”

“But it’s pretty, isn’t it?” his smirk makes you roll your eyes and look away, smiling.

“Oh, sure it is…” he walks over and opens the passenger seat for you, gentlemanly inviting you to sit.

“Only pretty girls get to sit here”

“That’s so tacky” Both of you start laughing again. But you finally take a seat and he closes the door.

All the way to the mall he showed you some of the music he produced. Jeong-Won was a serious man, but in the 24 hours you had met him, he was always able to offer you a smile or laugh. His phone continuously rang and you urged him to answer but he said it wasn’t important.

If only you had been able to see the screen…

…

Jeong-won followed you through the candle store, pretending to be attracted to some of the bright bottles with wax and odors but the truth was that he only wanted to listen to you.

“And I don’t like fish. Ahi tuna is fine but it’s mostly raw so…”

“You prefer meat?”

“If it was on me, I would gladly eat purely tofu. But I really like burgers and steaks” you admit giggling.

Your heart continuously beating made you accept you really liked the man beside you. He had made you feel so comfortable and welcome since you met him.

“Oh, I can cook you a steak with vegetables, it’s one of the few dishes I enjoy doing myself” Your cheeks blushed again at his statement. Was he inviting you to meet again?

“But you said you don’t eat at home” you object, deciding on a cardamom candle and going straight to pay.

“I can make exceptions” Once again you meet his smile and it makes you feel delusional. The intrusive thought of anticipating him as the one merging.

“And I will make tofu appetizers” It was on purpose your mocking tone. Just in case Jeong-won never meant to invite you on a date.

“Next Friday. My place. Casual dinner…” he offers, leaning on the counter as you pay your candle. “What do you say?”

“Alright,” his proud smile makes you roll your eyes at him before grabbing your bags and exiting the store.

You think it’s time to tell your friends about him.

…

“NO WAY! The hot dude we saw you talking to at the club?” Jade screams through the video call. You start laughing and nodding.

Everyone one of your friends is shocked.

“We met at the burger shop and then he took me to the mall and there he literally went shopping with me and at the end invited me to have dinner at his place next Friday” Everyone starts yelling and cheering, making it harder for you to believe that you pulled up a hot man like Han Jeong-won.

“Baby, we’re coming tomorrow and we won’t leave until you have an appointment made for your hair and a waxing,” Ruby tells you and it makes you burst laughing.

“Actually that would be nice. And please stay over, you can practically move in with me if you want”

“We can’t move in when you’re one step away from getting a boyfriend, unnie” says Seoun-mi, which makes everyone burst laughing again.

…

The house was ridiculously clean and big. Jeong-won kept his promise and cooked a steak with vegetables. Your tofu was also gone, he let you pick a glass of wine from the floor below and there he kissed you.

“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?” You repeated what you said the night you met him at the club, Jeong-won chuckled, still holding your waist. “You are, but… I feel very comfortable when I’m with you”

You smile, feeling your heart flutter in love. He was so adorable and sweet, only a gentleman to you since you met him.

“I feel the same way about you” In the dark wine cellar of the house, you barely can see the features of Jeong-won, his hair looks even darker than it is and he had to slightly bend over to face you.

Which led to having a dinner full of teasing, leading to you kissing him in his lap upstairs with the TV on in the background.

“We can stop if you want…” he whispers in your mouth. But it’s too fucking late.

You can feel how hard he is, you can feel your panties are growing wet.

“It’s okay, I want you…” He throws his head back when you grind against him. And it’s oddly beautiful how you’d never considered a man so pretty like him.

“Keep moving like that…” he says barely able to talk properly. That makes you feel confident and sexy.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, darling…” you moan on his lips, knowing it’s over once he takes out his cock and puts aside your panties.

“Jeong-won!” you moan his name, repeating it like a mantra over and over again.

You can’t believe how good things are going. So good that you are blinded enough to miss the red flags.

…

Four months together. He didn’t know how it happened. Six months ago he married Noh In-ji just to please his ex-wife. His cheating was not in the plans. You weren’t meant to appear in his life.

Jeong-won never considered age gaps romantic. His parents had one and it didn’t go well, let alone the other problems he had to witness as a kid. In fact, he thought you were pretty but he was only being friendly when you ended up by his side that night at the club.

But he started to feel very comfortable as you talked to him. He didn’t feel the need to oppress his feelings as usual. He allowed himself to smile, laugh, and be talkative.

Jeong-won felt alive.

Whenever you were around he was able to forget about his ex-wife, the baby, his pain, and dealing with his difficult new wife.

Just when he was so close to falling for In-ji.

Your voice singing caught him in his inner thoughts and briefly eyed you taking pictures of the landscape as he drove through the empty highway.

Jeong-won returned his attention to the highly and smiled.

“You should autotune my voice, honey. I know I am no singer” you admit smirking at him before looking away.

“Actually you sound fine…” The small he offers you is sweet and makes you want to lean and kiss him deeply. But he’s driving you to a lake he loved to go to in his free time to fish and just pass the time.

“Bullshit. But I’ll take the compliment” he chuckles, showing you his right dimple from the view of his profile. “Whatever. Tell me about the lake”

“I used to go there a lot since I was a teenager. Whenever things got rough at home, I went there to… forget about it” his uncomfortable tone made you seize your smile. He told you about his parents and his harsh infancy. You couldn’t blame him.

“It’s different now. I go there with my boss, who’s also my friend. And now I’m taking you there… only good times now. I promise”

He also took In-ji to the lake once. Jeong-won desperately pleaded for the right moment to tell you the truth. He had two months left of marriage. His ex-wife still haunted him a little but he was comfortable after pushing her away. There was a lunatic after In-ji but since she didn’t want him to be nosy about it, he found more than comfort in you.

“We’re here!” You squeal excitedly, making him smile at the sight.

Once he parks the car, you get out to appreciate the view. Jeong-won has been there so many times that the only beauty he sees is you.

In sneakers, jeans, sweater, coat, and camera in hand. You look so ordinary, yet so perfect to his eyes. You were the woman he really wanted to call his partner.

That didn’t mean Jeong-won didn’t feel so terrible for lying to you. For also lying to In-ji and getting away with it.

“JEONG-WON! HURRY UP, HONEY!” You yell, noticing he got lost in his head. You wonder what was he thinking. But you soon forget as he gives you one of his cutest smiles.

He starts literally jogging towards you, making you laugh, urging you to run so he can catch you.

The adrenaline flows when he starts running behind you. All you can feel is peace and joy. The man that catches you in his arms is your boyfriend.

“Got you, sweetheart,” he says in your ear, making you blush as he spins you to lean and kiss you.

His lips were soft despite his rough appearance. Jeong-won in general was so sweet, touch deprived and you were the one who broke those barriers.

He’s all you never knew you wanted and someone you weren’t waiting for…

“I love you” you admit confidently. He smirks, tilting his head.

“Me too” he admits to his own surprise.

He knows there’s no way back.

…

Periwinkle was one of your least favorite colors. But you loved how a dress of that color fitted you with grey tights and heels, a grey coat covering you as well as you entered the fancy restaurant. Jeong-won insisted that you two had to celebrate your achievement of passing every midterm of the semester.

“I’ll get the squash blossom soup” you order after your boyfriend and once the waitress leaves, it’s just you and him.

“You always look pretty, but I really think you look lovely tonight, darling…” Your face burns and you shyly smile, hiding your face behind your glass of wine.

“Ah ah, don’t hide from me! I’m being serious” he says chuckling, trying to move the glass away. “It doesn’t match the necklace, but it’s okay”

“I don’t care. I love the necklace and I’ll wear it every single day. Even if it doesn’t match…”

He gifted you a Tiffany gold necklace with a heart pendant. You were embarrassed but enamored by it. He shushed your attempts to politely reject the gift by burying his face between your legs. It left you with no choice but to place the necklace around your neck and admire it in a nearby mirror as you rode him at your apartment.

Luckily Seoun-mi made you an appointment at a public hospital to get your birth control.

When you least expect it, you already finishing your squash blossom soup. Jeong-won is nearly done with his plate and both of you are laughing because he almost spilled the wine.

The solid proof of Jeong-won feeling head over heels for you is evident when all he can focus on is your face.

Although there are no wrinkles in your face yet, some appear around your eyes as you keep laughing. He smiles, ignoring all of his surroundings, miserably ignoring the approaching figure coming to the table.

Everything is perfect until you spot a beige coat, your laughs suddenly stopping as you look up to encounter a woman.

Fear starts creeping up as you notice how Jeong-won also stops smiling, only to lock his eyes with the woman before she turns her head to scan you.

She’s young, maybe a little older than you, like your boyfriend. But she’s very pretty and elegant. But her cold demeanor makes you uncomfortable, the feeling doesn’t abandon you as she looks away from you.

“You didn’t tell me you were having dinner out, sweetheart” she speaks to him in Korean, offering a cold and feigned smile.

You are no fool, quickly thinking the worst. Hoping it’s a mistake.

“In-ji…” he reveals the woman’s name and sounds almost like he’s begging. But you don’t know what.

“I’m sorry, What is happening?” you dare to ask, making both of them turn to look at you.

“I’m Han Jeong-Won’s wife”

Color leaves your face, your stomach awkwardly churns and your hands start to shake, getting on your nerves.

How did Jeong-won hide it so well?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

“Earlier, your phone call accidentally linked to the car I borrowed” the woman reveals, but nobody says anything.

But you know it’s time to go…

Embarrassment floods you, making you a mess of yourself. Your cheeks burn so bad that your face looks red as a beet, you can feel your heart racing and your hands keep shaking as much as you try to calm yourself.

You stand up from the table, hurrying to grab your coat and purse.

“Please, y/n…” you hear Jeong-won calling you, but you don’t even look at him.

“The least you can do is pay for my dinner and beg on your knees for forgiveness to your wife…” you spit out, unable to look at any of them or the nosy people having dinner in the place.

The unwanted attention makes you sick. Only worsening the moment.

The couple stares at you, noticing that even when you were walking away, it was obvious that you started crying and you tried to wipe the tears away.

In-ji almost felt bad for you. Despite looking young and careless, you seemed mature enough. She expected to argue, but she ended up surprised to see you only left and eyed her with evident apologies.

“I deserve an explanation,” she says once you’re finally out of their sight.

“Yeah, you do…” Jeong-won admits, sighing after handing his card to pay the check.

He would pay for your dinner but he would not beg for forgiveness to his wife.

“Why did you do this?” In-ji asks as both leave the restaurant.

She’s certainly jealous but hides it so well. And more than that, she is curious.

“When I’m with her, I don’t feel tormented. I can be myself with no restrains…” he says, looking tired, beat down by the situation, but he briefly smiled at the tons of memories he had made with you.

“Did you ever feel that way with me?” Suddenly In-ji felt nervous, but she had to know.

“I did” After some silence, Jeong-won adds “I was so close to falling for you, but you proved to me we could never trust each other completely”

“That’s not true”

“She picked you well and was right. I will never match with you…”

That breaks her heart. Knowing damn well what he meant.

Her eyes get teary but feels confident to throw the next question.

“Do you love her, Jeong-won?”

“I love her”

She nods, watching him walk away towards his car.

The ex-wife, the wife, and the girlfriend…

Get a fucking grip, man. Get your shit together, Jeong-won thought.

A disastrous marriage, a fake one, and a healthy relationship.

From three totally different relationships, only one had made him feel safe and comfortable.

It was yours and his name that he wanted to see and hear together.

He was the perfect boyfriend but a shit of a person. And of course, you didn’t deserve that.

You deserved his pleas. And so you would get them.

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

Part two or what?

taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1

#gong yoo x reader #gong yoo #the trunk #han jeong won x reader #han jeong won #the salesman x reader #the salesman #the recruiter #recruiter x reader

737 notes · View notes

grayandthyme · 27 days ago

Text

my ground gives out beneath you ;

masterlist

tommy miller x f!reader

synopsis: While gardening, you make the wrong move. Slipping through a door you had no right to be near in the first place. Tommy is mad. Really mad. He can't lose anyone else. Especially not you. warnings/tags: fluff, slight angst, sexual suggestions, showering together, implied sex, use of swearing, mentions/depictions of violence, self-deprication. no use of y/n. reader is lowkey kinda silly for going outside but oh well.. gardener!reader.

w/c 4.6k

You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, careful not to smear more dirt across your face—not that it mattered. You were already covered in the stuff: jeans caked to the knee, boots sunk half an inch in soil. Your fingers dug into the earth, turning old till with practiced motions, pressing it down again like it was muscle memory.

Jackson had its charm. Quiet. Steady. Safe enough that you’d stopped flinching at every shadow. And somehow, you’d found a purpose here. Strange little corner of peace in a world long laid to hell. Resident gardener. Crop overseer. The one who brought a pop of color to porches, or laid flowers at graves no one else could visit.

It wasn’t just a job.

It was something to do.

A way to keep your hands busy. A way to keep moving forward. You planted things. Grew things. Helped life come back in the smallest ways.

Then you went home. Washed the dirt from your skin. Letting the man you love gently scrub the rest from your back.

Sat close enough to him that neither of you have to speak. It’s loving silence. Pray and tell.

For the end of the world it was good.

Sometimes, too good.

Some days it felt almost normal.

But today wasn't one of those days.

Your eyes skimmed the seed packets laid out in rows—carefully labeled, sorted. One bag near-empty, light in your hand: tomato seeds, your favorite project of the season. You drummed your fingers along the edge of the garden box and stood, stretching the ache out of your spine.

"I'm gonna go grab the rest of the bags—you guys good in here?" you called over your shoulder.

A chorus of “Yeah!” and “Thank you!” followed you out, and you slipped through the wooden corridor of the greenhouse.

Outside, the sun had started its descent behind the mountains. Jackson glowed in that late golden hour—the kind of light that made it feel like nothing bad had ever happened here.

The smell of roasted meat from the Tipsy Bison floated on the breeze, kids screamed with laughter at the wooden playground, horses clopped along the gravel paths with saddlebags full of supplies.

You weaved through the garden plots—mounds of soil, rows of orange tree saplings, rusted shovels leaning like old men against fence posts.

Passing rows of sprouting herbs and markers scribbled with names that felt like promises.

Toward the farthest edge, just before the great wall of Jackson, you spotted the stash.

Stacks of seed bags. Feet high, months of scavenging and trading packed into burlap and plastic. A quiet kind of accomplishment.

You sifted through the bags, fingers brushing over worn burlap, each one so familiar that you could almost name the seed inside by scent alone—mint, coriander, marigold.

Blowing out a short breath through your nose, eyes flicking across the row. No tomato seeds in sight. That same low-grade frustration began to simmer, a small, annoyed huff escaping you.

Maybe hangry.

"The hell…" you muttered, dirt-smudged fingers raking through your hair, tugging strands away from your face.

Definitely hangry.

That’s when you saw them.

Just outside the gate. A few bags—stacked a bit haphazardly—barely ten feet away, resting against the outer fence. You could practically touch them. Tomato seeds among them, you were sure of it.

A metal door stood between you and them. Heavy, rusted, barred from the inside.

It’s not like anyone’s out there, you told yourself. The walls were manned.

Watched.

This spot was under a watchtower, practically inside the town. It wasn’t like you were heading out into the goddamn wasteland.

It was… what? Two minutes outside the line? Grab the bag, bring it inside. Close the door. Done.

You didn’t want to ask someone to fetch it for you.

That felt worse.

Weak.

Like asking meant you weren’t capable. That you were soft.

Cowardly.

Hell, Tommy had gotten you into Jackson in the first place. Pulled strings. Gotten people to vouch. And ever since, it felt like you owed something. Like every seed you planted was penance for a favor you didn’t know how to repay.

Your hands were already moving before you could talk yourself out of it. You unlatched the thick metal bar with a quiet grunt and slipped the door open just wide enough to slip through. The hinges creaked like they hadn’t been used in years.

Still, you stepped through.

The air outside was different. Feral.

Thick with the smell of pine and iron. Just past the threshold, nature had taken over—overgrown grass curled around your boots, vines crept up the base of the watchtower, and fallen branches tangled in forgotten fencing.

You’d said it before: this would be prime land for garden expansion. You’d even told Tommy. But no one ever followed up.

You navigated through the dirt and gravel with careful footing, the uneven earth crunching beneath your boots. Kneeling by the stack, you moved fast—hands brushing over the coarse burlap, the scent of earth and dried seed rising up to meet you.

"Gotcha," you muttered, fingers closing around the tomato seed bag and tugging it free from the pile. It was heavier than you remembered—forty, maybe forty-five pounds—but you managed to hike it against your hip, adjusting for balance.

The weight pressed into your side as you made your way back, sidestepping tangled roots and patches of wild grass. You moved slow, cautious, but confident. The door was just ahead, right where you left it. Still cracked open. Still safe.

See? Easy. No problem. You worried for nothing.

A snap.

Spoke too fucking soon. Not from beneath you. From the trees. Somewhere off to the right.

The seed bag dug into your side as you slowly turned your head. Not fast—fast would make noise. Fast would mean panic. And panic meant death.

You scanned the trees. The underbrush. The shadows stretching longer now that the sun had nearly dipped below the horizon.

You shifted your grip on the bag, inching one foot back toward the open door.

Then it screamed.

That god-awful, bone-splitting screech—somewhere between a person and a demon—ripped through the air.

From the treeline, it lunged.

Runner.

No time.

You dropped the bag, stumbling backward as the infected barreled toward you, all limbs and rage, its mouth gaping open with the promise of ruin. Its hands stretched, fingers curled like claws.

Its arms missed you by inches, but its momentum dragged you both down in a vicious spiral—crashing through the underbrush.

You tumbled, slamming through dirt and dead branches, pain flaring in your back and ribs. The runner snapped its jaws in blind rage, its limbs clawing at the earth beside you but never quite finding skin.

Slamming against the base of a tree, disoriented, vision split by branches. You kicked and swung out, again and again, keeping the thing’s flailing body at bay.

BANG.

The shot split the air. The runner seized, neck jerking. It dropped. Silent.

Breathing caught in your throat as you lay there, heart thundering. Then the sound of boots barreled down the hill—furious boots.

Tommy’s hands were on you before the world came back into focus. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he snapped, grabbing you by your shoulders, shaking once—not rough, just enough to remind you you were alive.

“No bite,” you gasped. “Didn’t touch me, I swear—”

“I don’t give a shit what it touched. You shouldn’t’ve been out here alone.” His voice cracked halfway through, like it betrayed him. His jaw clenched, “You know better—Fuck—You know better.”

You blinked at him, eyes wide.

His were just as wide, and angry.

“I almost put a bullet through it too late,” he continued, quieter now, but heavier. “You realize what that would’ve done to me? What it would’ve meant if I saw that thing sink its teeth into you?”

That he had to kill you.

You stayed silent.

There was nothing to say.

Tommy looked away, like even meeting your eyes hurt. He ran a hand down his face and muttered, “Jesus… You’re not just some fuckin' girl. You’re part of me now. And I ain’t got the kind of heart left to bury another person I love.”

Another person.

He hauled you up—not gently—and slung your arm over his shoulder. His grip was tight. Protective.

“You want tomato seeds?” he practically growled, voice dark and clad with anger, “You ask.”

“I’ll bring the whole damn field if it keeps you behind the gate. But you don’t get to pull stunts like this."

You nodded, throat tight. The weight of what almost happened still ringing in your bones.

As he guided you back toward the wall, you could feel it in the tension of his body—he wasn’t just mad.

He was terrified.

. . .

You’d misread him.

He wasn’t just terrified—he was seething. The angriest you’ve ever seen him. Light vanished from dark, woodsy eyes.

Quiet, tight-lipped fury. The kind that didn’t need to be shouted to make your chest ache.

The walk back to town was heavy with it. No words. No looks. Just the clamp of his hand on the back of your jacket, guiding you forward like a soldier escorting someone who’d stepped out of line.

You hadn’t even gotten to finish your shift. No chance to wave off the other gardeners. The stares were the worst—dozens of eyes trailing after you, low whispers cutting the air. Concern. Pity. Fear. You weren’t the survivor today. You were the reckless one, the fragile one, the woman who nearly didn’t come back.

Tommy’s grip never loosened. Not once. Like if he did, you’d vanish into the ground or go running back out again.

By the time you reached the house, your heart was pounding with the quiet shame of it all.

He finally spoke, voice flat and firm, the words razor-sharp in their simplicity.

“Go get changed.”

And then he disappeared—into the hallway, into the silence, into himself.

Standing there in the entryway, mud drying on your boots, hands still trembling from the brush with death, and it hit you.

It felt like punishment. Maybe it was.

A few moments pass, and you finally make your way upstairs to the bathroom.

Each scrape, each bruise, each patch of gravel-burned skin lit up angry and raw against the parts of you that were still whole. It all stung now—the sting of adrenaline gone, leaving nothing behind but pain and consequence.

You sat on the edge of the tub, sockless feet pressed to the cold tile floor, your arms folded tightly across your chest like they could hold you together.

But they couldn’t.

The bathroom light buzzed above you, casting your reflection in the mirror like a ghost.

And then, finally—finally—you let go.

A breath broke.

Then a sob.

Then another. And another.

No gasping. No theatrics. Just that hollow kind of crying that seeps up from your ribs, thick and unrelenting, like grief had been waiting patiently behind your teeth.

It wasn’t about the fall. Not really. It wasn’t even about the runner.

It was the look on his face.

The way Tommy hadn’t spoken to you.

The usual cheery, kind, and soft eyes that nurtured you; there no longer.

It was knowing, deep down, that you scared him. And that scared you more than anything else. It was an accident.

Though, you tried to convince yourself it was an accident. That you didn't go through with it because you were tired of being Tommy's sheltered girl.

He's lost so much, how could you add to that?

You’re part of me now. And I ain’t got the kind of heart left to bury another person I love.

The sobs didn’t stop—they just changed. Softer now. Like something had cracked wide open inside of you and there was no stuffing it back in.

You slid from the edge of the tub, knees curling beneath you as your bare skin pressed against the cool, aged wood of the floor.

Arms braced out in front of you, hands shaking against the boards like they could hold up the weight of the world. Like they could hold you.

But they couldn’t.

Sometimes you just have to lay on the bathroom floor.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. Time blurred at the edges. Pain and shame blurring with it.

A knock.

Soft. Careful. Still heavy.

Tommy.

He didn’t say your name.

You didn’t answer right away—couldn’t—but you heard the way he shifted just outside the door. Boots scuffing against the floor. A sigh, quiet and worn.

“I ain’t gonna ask to come in,” he said finally, voice low, rough around the edges. “But you’re hurtin’. And I’d rather be in there hurtin’ with you than standin’ out here pretendin’ like I ain’t.”

Silence.

“I was mad,” he added, slower this time. “Still am. Don’t mean I don’t love you. Don’t mean I ain’t scared shitless at the thought of you not comin’ home.”

You swallowed hard, head still bowed. The words splintered something in you, but not in a way that hurt.

In a way that made you feel seen.

“C’mon in,” you whispered, voice wrecked.

The doorknob clicked. The door eased open.

Tommy stood in the frame, his expression unreadable—somewhere between fear and fury and a heartbreak he’d never admit to.

But he stepped inside without a word, sinking to his knees beside you, knees shifting, and cracking with the action.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmured, eyes glassy, but jaw tight. “And I can’t. You hear me?”

“…’m sorry…” you manage to gasp, the words catching and breaking in your throat like brittle glass. Each sob lurches out of you, wild and raw, dragging your chest tight. The tears keep falling—hot, carving burning paths down your cheeks.

The wood beneath you bites at your skin, goosebumps rising in waves. You feel stripped open, not of your clothes—but of everything.

Pride. Defenses. Sense. Though the entire thing was your fault.

Tommy doesn't speak right away.

His fingers twitch—tight, twitch, release—over and over, like he’s working through something bigger than he knows how to say.

Then, quiet and flat:

“Don’t apologize for survivin’.”

You blink up at him through the haze of your crying, eyes swollen, lashes wet.

“That’s what that was,” he continues, voice a little rougher now. “You didn’t go out there ‘cause you’re stupid. Or reckless. Or tryin’ to piss me off.” A bitter huff. “Though you damn well managed that last two.”

He pauses, jaw ticking. His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours. It hovers just over your shoulder, as if looking straight at you might shatter him, too.

“You went out there cause you thought you had to. ‘Cause no one ever taught you to let someone else help. You don't owe me anythin'." His voice softens, quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

“Well, I’m here now. I’m right here. And I ain’t lettin’ you bleed alone on a bathroom floor. Got it?”

You don’t answer.

But you nod.

And that’s enough.

Tommy shifts, lowers himself beside you, pulling you gently against his chest. You curl into him—still trembling, still raw—and he just holds you there, like he’s trying to put all your broken pieces back in place with nothing but his hands and the steadiness of his heartbeat.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now. And I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You sink into him like soft wax against a flame—malleable, undone.

His arms encase you, dark and steady, holding you like a thing he refuses to let shatter.

You let your fingers roam in small, quiet passes—mapping the constellation of moles and sun-darkened spots that speckle his skin like old stories.

Scars like soft warnings, sunspots like prayers.

He feels real beneath your hands. Solid. Warm.

Your voice is barely more than breath.

“Tommy?” A pause. The weight of his name clings to your tongue, “…Is it a bad time to ask if you’ll… shower with me?”

For a moment, there’s just the sound of the house breathing around you. Wood creaking. Pipes humming. Your chest rising and falling where it rests against his.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes scanning your face—searching, measuring. Not for lust. Not even really for permission. But for intent. For what you need.

His voice is quiet. Rough, like gravel smoothed down by the years.

“Darlin’,” he says, “I’d carry you in there if you asked me to.”

"I'm a big girl, I can walk…" You jest, a small laugh slipping out from your crying demeanor.

His eyes are soft as they meet yours.

Thumb brushing across the back of your hand before he drifts to undo the buttons of his flannel.

There’s something hesitant in the movement, like he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop.

He doesn’t want to push you, doesn’t want to make you feel anything more than what you’re willing to give.

But you can’t stop the way your body moves towards him.

How your lips lift, barely brushing against his as you reach up to gently pull his shirt from his shoulders, your fingers trembling as you guide it down his chest.

His breath hitches, a low sound escaping him when your lips meet his neck, soft, fleeting. Like each soft kiss is an apology.

I'm sorry for being stupid.

There’s no hurry. No franticness.

Just the weight of everything you’ve been through, pressing in, and the need to feel something real.

Something that isn’t broken. You press your body against his, and he inhales, his hands coming up to your face, brushing your tears away, though you’re not sure when they started again.

Maybe his presence.

Pulling back for a moment, your breath shaky. You don’t say a word. But the look in his eyes tells you everything. It’s soft, but it’s fierce. Like he’s terrified of what’s been lost and what could slip away in an instant.

You kiss him then.

Slow, soft, desperate in its quiet way. Your hands slide over his chest, fingers slipping down the curve of his torso, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

He doesn’t stop you.

It’s not about sex. It’s about the quiet, desperate need to be together in this chaotic world. To remind each other that you’re both still here. That you’re alive.

When you finally break apart, you let the fabric fall between you both.

His shirt, your clothes—discarded in a pile against the old wooden floorboards.

His arms encircle around your waist, pulling you into the shower with him, close under the hot water. Feeling the weight of everything you didn’t say, everything you didn’t need to, pressing against you.

You kiss him again, this time deeper, pulling him closer, seeking solace in his warmth, in his scent, in the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

"I'm sorry," you whisper again, the words barely rising above the hum of the water. They cling to your throat like thorns, fragile and raw. Trembling as your fingers curl into the warmth of his skin and water.

"I'm so fucking sorry," you repeat—choked, hoarse—like it’s not a sentence but a prayer. A desperate offering to something bigger than the both of you. Maybe to him. Maybe to the pieces of yourself that still believe you deserve to be held.

Tommy doesn’t say anything at first. Just rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, like he’s trying to breathe you in.

His hands move over your spine, slow and deliberate, anchoring you there like you might otherwise drift apart.

The warm drip of the water.

“You think I don’t know what that guilt feels like?” he says lowly, voice gravel-worn and edged with something close to ache. “I’ve carried it so long, I forgot what it feels like to walk without it.”

You keep your face pressed to his chest, lips parted but speechless. The silence says everything you can't.

He exhales, slow and tired. “I can't bury you. That ain't somethin' I can do… You go, and I go with it. There'll be nothin' left of me."

There’s no venom in it. Just truth.

Just the kind of pain that sounds like anger because love doesn’t always come out gentle.

“I ain't mad you went out there,” he continues. “I’m mad 'cause you didn’t think twice about what it'd do to me. About what I'd be without you.”

Your breath catches. He feels it.

“I ain't like the others, never have been,” he mutters, more to himself than you. “I don’t shut it down when I care about somebody. I feel it. I feel all of it.”

You look up then, blinking through the mist, your thumb brushing over the scar on his forehead.

“I didn’t want to be a burden—Okay? I.. I fucked up.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches. “You’re not a burden. You’re my girl. My woman—" He hesitates, a deep inhale, "And mine don’t die alone in the goddamn dirt.”

He says it like a vow.

"If you asked me to lay down n' die, I sure as hell probably fuckin' would…"

His words don't burn anymore.

You kiss him again—slow and firm and full of every word you can’t manage. And he lets you. Holds you like the world might split if he doesn’t.

Your fingers find his hair—thick, dark—and you curl them there, anchoring yourself in the strands like they’re the last solid thing in a world built on rot and ruin.

A gentle tug, not out of desire but out of need.

Something quiet and aching.

Like you're trying to make sure he stays.

The kisses taper off, each one slower than the last, until your foreheads rest against each other and the only thing left between you is breath.

Steam swirls around your tangled forms, the water falling soft.

You're both still, tucked into each other beneath the muted warmth. Spaced out. Safe, for now.

And then your voice breaks the hush, small and hoarse: “How’d you know I was there? I thought you were out on patrol.”

Tommy exhales through his nose, his arm tightening slightly around your waist.

“I was,” he says, voice thick with something unspoken. “Checkin’ the perimeter like I usually do.”

He pauses.

“But then I saw one of the watch guys… leanin' over, squintin’ toward the south gate. Looked nervous.”

His jaw ticks. You can feel it against your temple.

“And I don’t know what it was—just somethin’ in my gut. Cold, sick feelin’. I ran. Didn’t even think. Just ran.”

His voice quiets, but it hardens too.

“Don’t ever make me feel that again.”

You swallow, guilt catching sharp in your throat.

Tommy shifts then, just enough to look at you. His hand comes up, thumb brushing a drop of water from your cheek.

“I know you’re strong. I know you’ve survived a helluva lot. But don’t you dare think you gotta prove it to me by gettin’ yourself killed.”

There’s no accusation in his voice, just a worn-out sorrow, like someone who’s lost too much and refuses to do it again. The silence returns, but it’s softer now. Heavy with feeling, but not drowning in it.

The water runs warm for a little while longer, soaking into your skin like ointment against old bruises.

Tommy doesn’t say much more after that. Doesn’t have to. His touch stays—steady, grounding.

You stay curled against him in the falling water until your fingers start to prune and the steam fades into the cold edges of reality.

Eventually, he murmurs, “We should get out. Water’s goin’ cold.”

You nod, not really wanting to move.

But he helps you, carefully untangling your limbs, stepping out first to grab two towels from the wall hook.

He tosses one over his shoulder before turning to wrap the other around you, gentler than you expect.

The fabric scratches your scraped knees, but you don’t flinch, it only stings a bit.

You dry off in silence.

His silhouette moving behind you as he runs a hand through his wet hair.

He’s quiet, but there’s still a charge in the air between you, something unspoken and taut—less like a rope about to snap, and more like one that just pulled someone back from the ledge.

He watches you in the mirror, eyes flicking to each fading bruise and open scrape across your shoulder and collarbone. “You got lucky,” he says, voice low, gruff.

“I know.”

There’s a beat where you think he might say more, maybe even get mad again. But instead, he moves in behind you, pressing a hand flat against your back.

“You hungry?”

Your eyes dip in the mirror, watching his hand round your hips, tough calloused fingers resting right below your bellybutton.

"I don't know," You exhale, eyes flicking back up to meet his face in the mirror, "You angry enough to not give me what I want?"

His eyes practically dilate—soft fingers once resting on your stomach, now curling into a deepened hold. Pushing your waist against him.

The angular feeling of his bare body pressing against the taut arched form of your hips against the granite.

His free hand comes up to brush some of the hair from behind your back, over your shoulder.

Soft kisses peppering shoulder blades. His lips trace up, the feeling of his facial hair tickling against vulnerable skin.

A gentle kiss to the lobe of your ear, and a whisper.

"This the second apology?”

. . .

You curl toward him instinctively, limbs tangling with his. One arm under your head, the other slung across his ribs. His hand settles between your shoulder blades, thumb grazing slow circles into your spine.

He smells like soap, saw dust and sun-warmed cotton. And for the first time in hours your chest doesn’t ache from holding it all in.

Minutes pass like that. The silence between you is full—but not heavy. Not yet.

Then, his voice, low and rough in the dark: “I heard the runner before I saw you. Screechin’ like it was already eatin’. Thought I was too damn late.”

You don’t say anything. You just press your forehead harder into his collarbone.

“I’ve seen what those things do to people. What they leave behind.” His voice cracks a little. He coughs, as if to clear it. “You don’t get to do that to me.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” you whisper.

“I know.” A pause. “But intent don’t mean shit when the ground gives out beneath you.”

You tighten your grip around him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur again, but he shushes you this time, mouth brushing your temple.

“Not tonight,” he says, voice softer. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You let yourself believe him.

Let your eyes fall shut to the rhythm of his breathing.

Let the warmth of him hold the pieces of you together while you rest.

Tomorrow will ask more of you both.

This isn't fixed.

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chanranghaeys · 1 month ago

Text

🍷 in vino veritas

What better birthday gift can one give than the gift of truth?

pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader word count: 3.4k genre: fluff, smut/nsfw rating: r-18. nsfw, mdni! tags: oblivious idiots in love with each other, mutual pining, literally can’t resist each other once they start, we're still celebrating seungkwan's birthday here, mentions of food, barely proofread pls bear with me warnings: alcohol, allusions to sex, eventual sex haha, making out, dry humping (?) making love, groping, fingering, implied unprotected sex (help idk how to do nsfw tags pls tell me if i missed anything

a/n: this was based on two requests lifetimes ago by rachel @strxwberry-skiess and tara @diamonddaze01. i have a feeling you two don’t remember it anymore haha but i’m tagging both of u anyway. this was also intended as a seungkwan birthday fic that i’ve been revising back and forth and just wasn’t satisfied enough to post until now, hence the setting. i hope this marks the end of my writing drought—i desperately need it.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

It started with a sweater and spilled soju.

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, don’t worry about it!”

“But it’s your favorite sweater. I just ruined it.”

Technically, you both did. It actually started with dinner at your place because you owed him. Big time.

A few weeks ago, you dared to be the only one who didn’t bring a gift to Seungkwan’s birthday gathering—and everyone called you out for it. So with the whole party as witness, Hansol and Chan made you promise to give Seungkwan a gift and treat him to dinner to make up for this huge lapse in judgment.

Sincerely, you wish you could slap those two in the face sometimes. But you wouldn’t, of course. They just knew exactly what they were trying to set up then.

You and Seungkwan decided on a simple homemade dinner at your place because according to him, “You never invite me to your place! How many times have you invited those two idiots to your place without me?”

If only you could tell him the real reason why that was always the case.

When the fateful day finally came, Seungkwan arrived at your apartment early to genuinely offer his help, much to your gratitude. He was even gracious enough to bring your favorite yangnyeom fried chicken.

“I knew you’d like it. It’s your favorite,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug when you questioned him with his offering.

In return, you claimed, “Just don’t go expecting me to give you your gift right away. I’m saving it for the end of the night because it’s special.”

He kept saying that “you don’t have to do this, they were just poking fun.” But you were never one to back down from a promise—especially if it involved Seungkwan.

Dinner went by easily. The weather allowed for a window propped open to let in some of the cool breeze that added to what you believe was a nice atmosphere. Your plates had long been empty when Seungkwan made his way to the fridge to get a refill of water. Instead, he let out a cry of disbelief.

“Ya! You have five bottles of soju and you didn’t bother bringing them out?”

You stayed silent. There was a reason why you didn’t bring those out on purpose. It was to avoid incidents like this, because you and Seungkwan—alone—and alcohol was a combination that had never happened before and an equation that you tried to avoid solving for as long as possible.

Fate had other plans today, apparently.

In his usual way, whenever there was alcohol in his system, he turned into the clingy kind of drunk that he was. This time, however, you noticed that he was different somehow. He was braver, louder, clingier. He was never like this when you two were drinking with friends.

As the late afternoon turned to evening, you two found yourselves inching closer to each other with every story and joke exchanged. This time, a particularly effective punchline you delivered had him in a laughing mess, with his hands instantly reaching for you. He just failed to notice the two very full glasses in your hands at that moment.

This was when chaos ensued.

In the aftermath, he looked at you and your obliviousness. “It’s just soju and water. Nothing a quick wash can’t do.”

He let out an audible sigh of defeat. Without thinking, he proceeded to peel off the ruined piece of clothing, revealing a thin white shirt that was barely there—riding up along with the sweater and revealing his torso. The sight got worse as he completely removed the sweater, the shirt clinging to his chest and still wet from the spilled liquid. You tried to avert your eyes as quickly as you could, but Seungkwan had already caught you staring.

“I, uh…” He pulled down his shirt and held the wet sweater in his hand. You cleared your throat and tried to gather your wits.

“I’m a terrible host. Give me that, I can chuck it in the laundry. I’ll get you a new shirt.” You stood to do as you said. You ignored the fact that he followed you all the way to your room, stopping to lean at your doorway as you rummaged through your drawers for a spare shirt.

You ignored how you could feel his eyes on you, probably spurred on with bravery because you had your back turned toward him. If only you could see how intense his gaze was, looking you up and down while weighing the two options in his head carefully.

He broke the silence first with a question you least expected. “You can talk to me honestly, right?”

“Of course, Seungkwan.” You busied yourself with looking for any shirt, trying to buy time to avoid meeting the piercing gaze you knew would meet.

“Were you…staring at me earlier?”

How dare— “Uh…”

“Okay, I’ll start with an easier question. Are you sober?”

“Yes.” You stand to face him, but not quite meeting his eyes yet. “I mean, I am now. Who wouldn’t be after you spill two glasses on your—friend?”

He laughs. “That’s true.” He pretends to not notice that slight hitch in your voice earlier.

“Here’s your shirt.” You hold up the oversized piece of clothing.

He pushes himself from your doorway and walks—in your perspective—at a painstakingly slow pace. His shirt is still a bit wet and still clinging just a bit in all the right places.

He stops right in front of you, a few steps too close to excuse it for a friendly distance. It absolutely was not.

He gingerly takes the shirt from your hand. To your utter surprise, he replaces it by taking your hand in his. You mask your nerves with an equally nervous laugh as you ask him, “Are you sober?”

“Yeah. Well, I can tell you that I’m sober enough to clearly know what I’m doing.” He continues even as he slowly intertwines his fingers in yours. “When we were in Italy, they said something during our wine tasting. ‘In vino veritas.’”

You were familiar with this saying. “‘In wine—’”

“‘There is truth.’” He completes the saying, taking yet another step closer. “We didn’t exactly drink wine, but can you still tell me the truth?”

You debate with light speed in your head where and how you want this conversation to end. It seemed there was only one answer the moment he decided to close the distance by settling his one hand on your waist and the other brushing your cheek—the clean shirt long forgotten on the floor.

Your heart was racing, and you knew this wasn’t because of the alcohol any longer. The air was thick with unresolved tension. You both knew what this was. This only happened when the two of you were alone, where awkward smiles and silences helped fill in the undeniable attraction that you both kept denying.

So you swallow your pride and nod in reply, and he smiles at your response before continuing, “So, were you staring?”

“I’m still staring now,” you say as you travel across his torso still wrapped in his wet shirt.

His chuckle turned into a laugh, his beautifully musical and infectious laugh, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “Stop it! I’m losing focus. God, I really didn’t think this through, did I?”

You were nothing if honest, even more so when it came to Seungkwan. He had no problem asking you this question because that’s what he liked about you the most. You weren’t like other people—like him even—who beat around the bush and never mean what they actually say.

“Maybe not,” you say while holding back a laugh of your own.

The smile drops from his face in an instant, his smiling lips closing together in the blink of an eye. When his eyes open, they contain an unspoken depth, his expression changing into something more serious than you’ve ever seen from him before.

“Help me take this off, will you?”

“Why don’t you kiss me first before you demand such things?”

He smirks and claims your chin between his fingers. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You two always had that “will they, won’t they” dynamic for the longest time. It seems that tonight, they will. And they did.

The room smelled of sex. It was undeniable at this point to not acknowledge what had just happened between you and Seungkwan. In the heat of the moment and the throes of passion, you had both done things once unspeakable between the two of you.

If only you both knew what constantly went on in your heads the moment you two were separated from each other.

“So, is this the gift?” Seungkwan asks breathlessly, his chest heaving with exertion and his heart still racing at a million beats per minute.

“What?” Your mind was still swimming in stars, still coming down from your high as you curled yourself in his arms and folded against his warm skin.

”This.” He pulls you in closer and tangles your legs with his, endlessly craving for the touch of your skin on his.

You lightly jab his forehead jokingly. “You forget that you initiated all this with your hand-holding and sweet-talking about being honest.”

“Hey, I just wanted a kiss. You gave me so much more.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and, god, you couldn’t get enough of this Seungkwan. If only you knew that this is how he’d be with you, it would’ve been so worth it to tell him how you felt way earlier.

Wait. You haven’t told him how you felt. Not exactly.

But instead, you land your lips chastely on his. “There’s your kiss. Are you happy now?” He nods, but you could see his eyes and his smile being weighed down by impending sleep. He yawns, and you catch it as well and mirror his actions.

“Good night, sleepyhead.” With a final kiss from Seungkwan to your forehead, you both settle into an easy slumber, with both of you feeling lighter in your minds and hearts.

“Seungkwan.”

He stirs, sleep still overtaking his senses. “Hmm?”

“Seungkwan-ah.” You reach up to move his bed hair from his forehead.

“Mhmm?”

And for a moment, you forget what you were supposed to say because you were struck by the beauty of this unguarded version of Seungkwan. You trail your hand from his forehead to the apple of his cheeks, where you feel them move as he smiles.

“Could you turn on the heat? It’s getting a bit cold.”

He opens his eyes to the most beautiful sight of you in the near break of dawn, the first light filtering through the sheer curtains and starting to illuminate your room.

In response, as if by instinct, he leaned down to kiss you, much to your surprise. When he broke away, he could still feel the curve of the smile of your lips against his. “Why don’t I keep you warm, instead?”

He pulled you closer, the heat from his hand traveling across and over your body. Just as he predicted, you feel the heat rising on your cheeks as you recall the intensity and fervor of last night. But you could care less.

Wordlessly, you take him up on his offer, wrapping your arms around his neck and meeting him in another kiss. Wordlessly, he accepts this as your response and he parts your lips open with his to allow entrance to go in deeper, tasting you for all you are against the ecstasy of your tongue.

While his mouth plays with yours, his hands continue to roam the ebbs and flows of your body, from your neck, your breasts, your waist, and finally tracing the curve of your ass with his hands. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he raises your one leg, allowing it to wrap around his waist.

In this position, your heated core was wide open for his evident arousal. It was as if the events of last night were not enough to satiate your wants, your needs, and deeper down, your true feelings. Your bodies stay flush against each other, skin to skin as if you could not come any closer. You move in sync, accompanied by the gasps and moans, the hitches in both your breaths, as you feel his fingers working their way down there dictating the rhythm that you two would move to while your own fingers clench to fist his hair.

If last night was desperate, needy, almost making up for lost time, this morning was deliberate, languid, almost lazy with the way his lips never left yours to swallow all the delicious sounds coming from your mouth. When he finally filled your awaiting entrance, your bodies felt like a natural fit with one another. Each thrust between your slick bodies felt like a resounding mantra in the stillness of the daybreak—a mantra of unsaid promises and unresolved thoughts spoken through actions with every moment that his lips latch, tug, bite at yours.

The light of the dawn filtered through your room, casting an ethereal glow on your bodies. Yet this morning, you both see nothing but stars. When you both come down from the heavens, you take the time to go to the bathroom, while he takes the time to turn on the heat despite your complaints.

“You’ll thank me later,” Seungkwan said as you returned to his welcoming arms. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you tangled your limbs in his and let sleep take over your senses once more.

By the time you come to again, it’s 9 am. The sun was fully shining through your curtains to the point of almost blinding you. The urge to pee was overwhelming, so you disentangled yourself from the sheets in your sluggish state. Sitting on the toilet, you rub your eyes and feel the aches of your body settle in—along with other realizations.

Like the fact that you were butt naked. In your bed. With Seungkwan.

And you two did not just fuck last night. You made love with him in the wee hours of the morning.

Holy shit.

As you splash water on your tired face, you look in the mirror and see…an unexpected glow. You touch your lips, trailing your hand down your neck and your chest, recalling all the other places where Seungkwan’s hands caressed you. You start to smile, yet it is gone as quickly as it came.

Now what?

With resolve, you step out of the bathroom to face the reality of the morning. What greets you is the sight of Seungkwan propped up against the headboard, checking his phone, with his bed hair and bare chest turning to look at you. He smiles, one that reaches his eyes.

He is so beautiful.

His eyes travel across your naked body, and you suddenly feel shy. You look across the floor for the discarded shirt from last night, pulling it over you and grabbing a clean pair of panties from your drawer.

He just watches you throughout this charade.

“I…uh, went through some of your clothes. Borrowed a pair of shorts. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, that's okay.”

“For a moment, I thought you left me. I woke up to an empty bed.”

You stop, fully turning to see the amusement in his expression. “You may have forgotten that this is my room. If anyone should have left, it would be you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you want me to? Leave?”

You don’t answer, afraid that whatever comes out of your mouth will betray your sensibilities. Instead, you sit down on the empty space of bed beside him.

“Are we still telling the truth?”

One side of his mouth quirks up. “Always, I hope.”

“You should know that there’s a reason why I never wanted you to come over here in the first place.”

He physically winces, anticipating the worst from that statement. “And that is?”

“Because I don’t think I’d ever let you leave. That’s the truth.”

A sigh of relief. “Come here.” He closes the gap between you by clasping your hand and pulling you back into bed, encircling you in his arms.

You lay there together, your head on his chest as he mindlessly plays with your hair. He’d always been a handsy person—all his friends knew that—but most especially to the people he had taken a particular liking to. His fixation was always different with each person. With you, it was your hair.

“Would you like to hear my truth?” He asks.

You wordlessly nod.

“I’ve always wanted to do that with you.”

“Do what?”

“You know…last night, this morning,” Seungkwan trails off.

“No way.”

“Yes, way.”

Your eyes were as wide as a doe’s. “You…never made it obvious or anything.”

“That’s because I’m a decent person who doesn’t act on my primal impulses out of nowhere. Please, you’re too damn pretty and sexy for me to ignore you from the moment we met.”

You slap his chest. “You’re playing. Stop it.”

“I’m serious! It didn’t help at all when I found out that you listened to all the same girl groups that I did. You think I don’t see you when you dance? When you move your damn hips? I have eyes, you know. I’m a simple man.”

“Okay, okay. I see you, girl group enthusiast.” You smiled up at him. “I guess I’ll shake my ass at you more often, then.”

“Oh, please, you will ruin me.” He bites back a grin. “No, but honestly—beyond that,” he said as he looked at you pointedly, “you unlocked this little kid inside me again whenever I was with you, and…I realized I wanted to do more with you. And be more with you. It just grew and grew until it hit me that I just I always wanted you around.”

As if to prove his next point, he meets your eyes and doesn’t let go of your gaze. “If you let me in and let me stay, I don’t think I’d ever leave if you don’t want me to.”

You purse your lips to hold back the smile growing on your lips. Your heart was pounding, pondering the consequences of the next few words you were about to say.

“Well, if you say that then another truth I have is that I’ve always held back from you. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed that.”

“I did.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t do a good enough job of hiding it.”

“Why though?”

“I couldn’t trust myself around you.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Have I not made you comfortable enough around me? Have I not been the definition of a poster boy best friend?”

“Exactly. You think I could let you go if I mess up and start kissing you on a whim? Seungkwan, your friends can be full of shit sometimes. Believe me when I say that a lot of times, you’re definitely the hottest guy in the room.”

“Wow, you must love me a whole lot for you to say something like that.”

“What if I do?”

He stills. “Do you really?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re still telling the truth, aren’t we?” But the truth also gives you away. You look down as your smile falters. “Friendship is always such a fragile thing to break. And I don’t think I ever want to lose you.”

“Like I said,” he says while lifting your chin up to meet his eyes. They were glowing, and you realize it reminded you of your own eyes when you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. It was as if you two were reflections of one another—the way you two always were without realizing it. “If you let me in and let me stay, I don’t think I’d ever leave if you don’t want me to.”

You could do nothing but smile.

And you hear both of your stomachs growl at the same time. You both laugh, loud, full, and deep-bellied, the only way you two do when you’re with each other. There were never any fake laughs if you were together.

You land a quick peck on his lips. “I’ll make you breakfast. Consider it a gift.”

You stood up to leave the bed, and you wait until it clicks in his head. “So you never got me a gift?” The disbelief on his face was almost enough to move you to guilt. But you had another ace up your sleeve.

“Why don’t you get your ass out of bed first and help me make breakfast so I can give you the real gift?”

He huffs. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I’m lucky you’re telling the truth.” You wink and leave him smirking. In wine there is truth, they say, and in truth there is a newfound sense of freedom he can’t wait to share with you.

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beastyeastfreak · 10 days ago

Note

you wrote the beasts in heatyesyes but i can't help but imagine.. beasts x in heat reader please and thank you🙏🙏

Yessss absolutely ive been waiting for someone to ask 👅

Cw and tags: Smut, Afab reader, GN! Reader, breeding kink, manipulation/ toxic behavior, role playing, orgasm denial, implied fempreg/impreg, mystic flours venom does not make a return (earthbread in shambles), lots of biting and scratching, heats last days not like a small one off thing like multiple rounds daily, overstimulation, binding

I cant even lie i locked in for this one

Written pre silent salt update

Mystic Flour

🌾 - She saw how you were forced into this state, against your will, quietly pleading for her in the dark, situated on your shaking knees. The red caressing your dough stood out among the white surrounding you. She’d grant her beloveds wish, it seems you were the only one she’d answer prayers for.

🌾 - “Anything that obstructs your path to enlightenment,” she starts. Sitting you on the bed and taking off your clothes. “I will have to see to it that it is taken care of.” She replied in a way that could be seen as caring.

🌾 - She doesn’t play, she wants to exterminate this ache from you. Though she’d be lying if she did not admit seeing you writhe and whine her name did not give her some enjoyment. She finds your reactions interesting, she’ll test spots that make you shudder and lull your head when her tongue reaches it. By halfway through she has you mapped out.

🌾 - When your movements become an obstacle, she’ll bind you. Your legs bound in a way they’re spread and folded. Your wrists tied above your head with webs of flour white string. You cant move, but she knows when her ministrations become overstimulating.

🌾 - “It will be worse if i do not do this,” she say quietly and leans away from between your legs to let you catch your breath. You’re trembling, no words just panting. You come again, she runs a hand over your face, looking down at you with those eyes. In your eyes, she only sees herself, what you want. It’s worshiping in its own twisted way, she loves it. “The purpose of this is to create life… that i can grant you.” She sounds a little scary as she says that.

🌾 - The heat slowly ebbs from your body, she’ll let you sleep then help you get washed, clothed and fed. She’ll let you hold onto her, leeching off her, admittedly little, body heat or perhaps simply just her presence. Her hand will gently comb in your hair as she completes what she’s behind on.

Burning spice

🏜️ - He knows exactly when you go into heat, he knows and he wont help until you come to him. He wants to see your will power. How long until you’re in his lap digging nails into his dough breathlessly needing him? How long until you’re in admit you need him to ruin you?

🏜️ - He all but dissuades you from trying to mark him. Biting and clawing are all on the table, he’s going to do the same after all. Burning spice wants evidence, battle scars. No one gets the luxury of letting their weapon grace his dough, so how intimate is it that when you’re whimpering beneath him he allows you to let his jam trickle onto you from tears caused by your teeth and nails?

🏜️ - He’ll speak to you as hes going down on you, not that you’re able to respond between being filled and being painfully needy. He’ll give you what you want to hear, how destructive his heir would be, how he’d take care of the both of you. He knows it has an effect, so he’ll continue. He’ll place a hand over your stomach and openly fantasise about destroying anything and everyone to keep you safe while you’re carrying.

🏜️ - He enjoys it when you positively react to him making promises of destruction. He’ll really enjoy it if you encourage it, say you dont want anyone near you or that you want him to scare away anyone who even looks at you wrong and he’ll give you what you want tenfold.

🏜️ - He will not let anyone even near you while you’re in heat, he wants your focus solely on him. If you need food in between sessions he gets it himself, still covered in scratches. Any offer to help would be taken as an insult, they aren’t injuries, they’re trophies.

🏜️ - By the end of it, he’s not spent but he’s definitely gotten a good workout and is behind on his ‘duties’. When all is said and done, the both of you look like you just exited a war zone and had the best couple of days of your life.

Eternal sugar

🌷 - Eternal Sugar views how you act in your moment of weakness as a test of loyalty to her almost. Yes, she’ll be there to help you because it is also an act of love, shes devoted to you, are you devoted to her? Did a chance to leave the garden conveniently present itself just before your heat, and you took it? You strangely find her more distant, she’s busy and you cant get a word in.

🌷 - You’ll become flustered and needy, completely incapable before she comes to you. “How can i help you if you don’t want to be where i can help you?” She’ll ask holding your chin, you take her hand and kiss it fervently and apologetically. “It wont happen again,” she says for you.

🌷 - If you did pass her tests, showing no interest in leaving or even calling her out saying you love her and wont leave, shes the best cookie to spend your heat with. “Do you think about a little one when you’re like this?” She’ll ask while pushing another finger in you. “Does it make you happy to think about? I can give that to you,” she smiles.

🌷 - While sleeping only pauses it temporarily, she can help you rest if you begin to become sleep deprived. She also ensures you’re well fed, its energy consuming to the maximum. Sleeping doesn’t take time off it, the moment you wake up its double, you’re clinging to her pressing sloppy kisses along her neck, her scent is driving you up the wall. She’s the only thing on your mind even in your dreams.

🌷 - What she wants to hear is you asking for permanent marks on your body that stakes her claim. She wants to be given a reason to be possessive, to have another excuse as to why you cant be away from her. If you do tell her to mark you in some way, Eternal sugar cookie will place a symbol of her souljam where it could be easily found, forehead, wrist, chest, anywhere.

🌷 - After the storm clears, she’ll use her time with you to take care of you in the other ways. This one need was taken care of, now she wanted to handle the rest.

Shadow milk

🃏 - Oh he just loves it when you’re burning up and aching and the only thing you want is him, it’s the ultimate ego boost which he certainly doesn’t need. He likes to get just a little too close when its that time, watching your face turn a deeper shade. He can practically feel heat emitting from your body. Any nearby doors will suddenly seem to be missing. “Ooohoho, ive been waiting for this! I have so many scripts I’ve written for us and us alone and so little time~!” He’ll say before summoning a portal and carrying you in.

🃏 - He loooves playing characters in bed, its funner when you’re slowly losing it and unable to keep the act. He’ll be thrusting into you and playing along the story he’s created. With each round you delve further and further into neediness, having to keep track of a new story. You cant follow the role? Having issues delivering lines? You have to wait a little longer for relief, he doesn’t make the rules!(he does)

🃏 - Your input on the characters he plays is the best part, he likes to hear what lines make you get off quicker, what actions make you buck your hips. You can always request characters, he gets off hearing you admit you were into his performances in your time of need. What drives him equally as much is if you tell him you preferred when he’s him, he’ll deny you his authentic self and continue the act but he definitely enjoys it.

🃏 - Id say about just over half way, when it really intensifies, is when he starts to lose energy and you gain it, so you switch. He lays down for a break, you get on top and start to ride him. Hes twitching and moaning, muttering how hes the director and should be in control not you. You obviously have less of a need for breaks, soon the acts begin to drop just in a trance of pleasure and aching. Nothing but the sounds movement and animalistic groans and pants. He’ll speak that with all this work it better pay off, he wouldn’t mind another cookie in the spire.

🃏 - When it finally ends, you’re both fatigued and sore, you can really only snuggle up next to eachother. He’s soft and somewhat quiet, cherish it while it lasts because you officially broke him. He’ll reach his hand into those portals and pull out snacks or extra blankets.

#i still havent gotten shadow milk #if i dont get him by the end of next month im writing him pregnant #eternal sugar cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #mystic flour cookie x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #x reader #crk x you #crk x reader

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bitchlessdino · 7 months ago

Text

mind your business (m)

Pairing: Frenemy!fem!reader x minder reader!chan

Genre: supernatural comedy, smut

Word count: 12.4k

tags: mean!reader, mean!chan, mentions needing to puke or die (both overdramtic af), implied consent (mind reading about desire and wants without audible consent), names (good girl or dirty girl), claustrophilia, stocking ripping, fingering, cunniligus, rough sex, brief spanking, unprotected sex.

Summary: If Chan had to read anyone’s mind, it had to be yours—the one person who seemed to loathe him with every ounce of your being. But before Halloween day, when that wish is suddenly granted, he begins to realize he’s opened a can of worms far bigger than he ever imagined—one that can’t be sealed shut again.

author note: hello, this bitch late but at least she's here thank you for @diamonddaze01 and @haologram for betareading for me i love yall and eveyone else enjoy!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys

“I don’t know what to be for Halloween.”

“Well, right now what you’re wearing is pretty scary.”

Lee Chan had never met anyone he couldn’t knock down a peg—not that he ever had to try. Everyone adored him, from classmates to coworkers, even Seungkwan, who followed his playful jabs with free lunches instead of a comeback. He was easygoing, always getting along with everyone. That is until you infiltrated his friend group. You weren’t like the others, and for the first time, Chan wasn’t sure if his effortless charm would be enough to dissolve your natural snark.

Chan shot you an unamused smile, his eyes narrowing as you answered his question. The two costumes he held drooped at his sides, a patient frustration written all over his features. “What are you even doing here if you won’t help me?”

You lifted your half-filled glass, the chill of the drink seeping through your fingers. “The free drinks, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe leave the opinions to those who actually care, like Soonyoung here?”

Soonyoung beamed up at Chan, his excitement bubbling over as he playfully tugged at his friend’s hand like an overly enthusiastic toddler. “Aww, always here for you, buddy!”

You couldn’t resist a jab. “Well, if you did something interesting for once in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have to entertain myself.”

Chan groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Never mind. I’m just going to pick something else. Make yourself useful and try to stay quiet, okay?”

You scoffed, getting up from the sofa seat. “Whatever. I’m gonna find something to eat.”

Chan tried his best to stay positive around you, but it was difficult when every social encounter turned into a game of mental chess. But instead of being an actual opponent, you acted like the master, playing with his temperament as if he were merely a pawn. It was exhausting—trying to keep things cordial while knowing you were always pushing his buttons, testing tolerance, and working against him as if your sarcastic replies and eyerolls carried a vindictive purpose.

Chan collapsed onto his bed the moment you left the room, feeling completely defeated. Now, it was just him and Soonyoung left to figure out what he should wear for Halloween, mere days away from now.

“Why is she always like that?” he muttered, focused on the wrong thing,

Soonyoung shrugged, scooting beside you with his legs crossed on the bed. “I’m sure she means well; she just has…her own way of showing it.”

Chan sat up, looking at him in disbelief. “She’s hated me since the moment we met at the New Year’s party, and I still don’t get why.”

“That’s not true.” Soonyoung reassured, gently patting his friend on the head. “Maybe your personalities just clash a bit. She gets along with everyone else in the building.”

“Yeah, but why?” Chan sighed. “What did I even do?”

Soonyoung gave him a reassuring pat. “Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”

The more people like Soonyoung, or Seokmin, or Jeonghan reassured him that you’d come around, the less Chan believed it. It seemed like there would be nothing that could change your mind about him. Yet he couldn’t just accept that you disliked him for no reason. There had to be something behind the mean exterior, the jabs directed at either his character or even looks. Like he’s some kind of pushover. He would spend entire days wracking his brain, trying to understand why, and nothing would make sense.

What made it worse was how much it bothered him—maybe because you saw each other almost daily, living in the same neighborhood. You’d grown close to everyone else like you were a permanent fixture here, but when it came to him, it felt like you went out of your way to get under his skin. Your cold glances, your sharp remarks, all seemed to gnaw at him, twisting him up inside like a steel knife in an already gashing wound (okay, maybe he was being dramatic). He just couldn’t stand it.

If he could, he’d look right into your mind, figure out what you were thinking, make sense of your actions, and—just maybe—finally understand why you behave the way you do.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a Halloween party to plan. Every year, the local gaming café downstairs—where he’d ironically ended up working at—hosted a Halloween bash with exclusive promotions. And every year, it was followed by a more exclusive all-out rager at his apartment, which he shared with a bunch of his friends above the cafe. It was something nearly everyone on the block looked forward to each year, and this time, Chan was in charge of the activities. The activities coordinator, Seungcheol had proclaimed.

That’s why Chan has been asking for all kinds of opinions lately, even yours. Being the natural people-pleaser he is, he felt as if he’d been running around everywhere to get everyone’s stamp of approval. He would go up and down, left and right, and even hold surveys at the cash register for strangers' opinions. He had a habit of making things perfect, and he wasn’t going to let your cynicism ruin it for him.

“Come on, help me figure out what to wear, bro. My night depends on it.”

Soonyoung had been helpful—thank goodness for that—and now that was one less problem to worry about, Chan felt a bit of relief. If he could just get through his shift at the cafe without losing his mind and manage to sneak in some few minutes of party planning, he would have a good day.

“You figure out what costume makes you look less of a loser, yet? Trick question, it really doesn’t matter what you pick. You’ll still look like a loser.”

Chan tilted his head, unfazed by your rude comments as he poured his tenth cup of ramen for the night—three of them for the same customer. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some puppies to kick?”

Your smile remained unfaltering, conniving as ever. “I cleared my schedule to help Seokmin and Soonyoung rank up. Wonwoo is playing with them this round. Just here to grab some Kickstart.”

“Ah, so another puppy is safe for a day from the wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations on your fleeting moment of decency.” He turned, striding over to the customers waiting for their ramen, while you annoyingly trailed closely behind. You grabbed your favorite blackberry Kickstart from the fridge, the bright can a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the café, and tossed a couple of crumpled bills in the direction of the cash register as if you’d done it before.

“You’re helping plan the Halloween party, right? Seungcheol mentioned it when I asked what I should bring,” you said, your tone almost too casual, as if you were friends.

Chan scoffed, carefully setting the steaming bowls of ramen down in front of the waiting customers before heading back to his station. “You, being courteous? That’s new. What do you want?”

With a sly smile, you leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I just wanted to let you know that if you really want to make the party fun, you can ask me. My ideas will probably be better than whatever you come up with.” The confidence in your voice made it clear you expected him to take you seriously, but how could he when every little word you managed to muster was belittling?

Chan grit his teeth, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He unscrewed the cap of a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in one swift gulp, the cool liquid barely offering any relief from his irritation. As he crushed the empty bottle in his hands, he aimed for the trash can but missed, the bottle clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Sounding exasperated, he bent down to pick it up, tossing it into the can with a bit more force than necessary.

Straightening up, he shot you a sharp glare. “I can handle it myself, thanks,” he muttered, his voice tight with annoyance.

“Really? Because I’m offering my help here,” you replied, your tone dripping with an offensive amount of condescending sincerity. “I’m being generous with my time and giving you the chance to create something…well, palatable from this party.” You exaggeratedly pretended to choose your words carefully, a teasing smile playing on your lips, poking at his alleged incompetence.

“You want to help?” Chan challenged, his tone cutting. “How about just enjoying the party instead of making it all about yourself? Some of us actually have work to do.”

He fixed you with a glare that held the slightest hint of malice before finally turning away and returning to his tasks.

“Defensive much?” you shot back, a glimpse of interest on your face as you raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, his voice firm. “Just self-respecting.”

“Fine,” you said, turning back to your friends as you walked away. “Just don’t come begging for my help when your party goes to shit.”

Chan found himself screaming into his pillows that night, the fabric muffling his frustrated cries as he banged his head against them in sheer exasperation.

“What the heck is her deal?” he murmured to himself, his voice muffled and thick with irritation. He buried his face deeper into the pillows, desperate to escape the relentless thoughts fogging in his mind. The familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener offered very little comfort as he replayed the interaction over and over, making him as puzzled as ever.

He hadn’t experienced bullying like this since high school, a time when everyone was preoccupied with either being popular or getting into the best colleges. He was neither; instead, he was a secret third option: just trying to survive.

“Always making fun of me. Always belittling me. Always making me feel like crap.” He pulled the covers over his eyes, seeking refuge from his loud thoughts. “Why can’t she just tell me what I did to make her hate me? I’m not a mind reader.”

Unable to sleep, Chan gazed up at the night sky through his bedroom window, seeing it enveloped in the vast pitch-blackness pressing down like a weight. He took a steadying breath, hoping to clear his mind. Not a single star graced him with its presence—only the lone moon, barely there but still noticeable—how relatable—hanging in the sky like a quiet witness to his restless thoughts.

“I’m going insane here, so if there’s a god out there, could he—or she—make my life easier for the next few days? Just a little?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for superpowers like telepathy or anything. Just…let me pull off a party that everyone actually enjoys. Even her. Maybe then she won’t be so…her all the time.”

It was wishful thinking, but worth a shot, and if Chan was known for anything, it was taking chances—no matter how slim the odds.

Chan was somehow able to sleep that night finally, hair straying all over his face, until he sat up at the realization of a lack of a blaring alarm, “Oh, shit.”

His phone battery had died, and his charger defective and rendered useless. He scrambled to Seungcheol’s room next door, avoiding the obstacles of his shirts strewn across the floor, and plugged the bead phone to his housemate’s charger, impatiently tapping until the phone lit up to greet him.

9:48. Just about 18 minutes before his morning shift starts and almost no time to get ready. “Shit, shit.”

‘What’s that noise?’

Chan glanced over at Seungcheol, who was sprawled out across his bed, a half-conscious casualty of the previous night’s escapades. It seemed he’d had company, judging by the tangled mess of clothes scattered on the floor, and apparently, they'd had more than just a “decent” time.

“Sorry, Cheol. Gotta borrow your charger. I’ll bring it back later.”

Seungcheol’s response was a muffled groan, his arm barely twitching in acknowledgment. Within the incoherent noise, Chan could just make out the unspoken message: ‘Just go away.’

“Got it, see you at work, buddy,” Chan muttered, plugging in his phone with a quick tap to check the time before heading for the door.

Another groan drifted from the bed, thick with irritation. ‘So loud.’

Chan got himself ready in a hurry, forgoing a shower and compensating with an extra-long brush of his teeth and a thick layer of deodorant. Fresh breath and a quick spritz of cologne would have to do for today. The cafe would be filled with people who wouldn’t care anyway.

He rushed downstairs to clock in, throwing on an apron over his lackluster clothes and prepping the makeshift kitchen in the back.

‘Ugh, my back is killing me.’

Chan turned at the faint sound of a familiar voice, spotting Minghao slouched in one of the worn chairs in the employees-only room, head leaned back, eyes half-closed in what looked like exhaustion.

“Hey, Hao. You okay?”

Minghao glanced up, his face breaking into a grin that seemed a bit forced, but reassuring nonetheless. “Morning, Chan. Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”

“Just checking in—I thought I heard you say something about your back?”

Minghao’s grin faded into a puzzled expression, brow furrowing as if he were rewinding through his own memory. “Hmm? I didn’t say anything. But… Now that you mention it, my back has been sore lately. All the competitions piling up, you know? Guess martial arts are starting to weigh down on this old, elderly body of mine.” He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.

Chan gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, if you need a break, just take one, alright? I’m sure Seungcheol or Jeonghan wouldn’t mind.”

Minghao’s smile softened. “Thanks, little buddy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chan smiled back. “Anytime.”

As Chan turned to leave, he heard a voice, faint but unmistakable, despite the owner of the voice being in the same room: ‘Chan’s a good kid.’

He paused mid-step, his eyes widening as he processed the thought, lingering in the air like a distant echo. He looked back at Minghao, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did…did you just say something?”

Minghao chuckled, giving him a casual wave as if everything were normal. “No? I’ll be out in a sec. How about you go warm up the coffee pot for me, hmm?”

“Got it…” Chan said, hesitating as he walked out, still glancing over his shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Had he really heard that voice? Or was exhaustion playing tricks on him?

He flipped the cash register on, the familiar hum filling the quiet of the early morning. Chan meticulously counted the bills, making sure he had the right amount of change and neatly stacked cash, each dollar lined up perfectly. Once satisfied, he moved to the glass door, flicking the open sign to life with a soft click. The neon light flickered, casting a bright and loud, welcoming invitation to anyone passing by. Chan took a deep breath, feeling the calm before the inevitable rush.

‘I hope they have the good ramen and not that crappy store brand shit. You can totally tell the difference.’

The voice drifted into Chan’s mind, oddly clear and distinct as if someone were speaking right beside him—except no one was there. The words had a casual, almost lazy tone, echoing in his head like the distant buzz of a radio left on in another room. His gaze darted around the empty shop, his pulse quickening as he scanned the quiet space, lit only by the harsh glow of the neon open sign.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but the words still lingered, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them. This voice, like Minghao’s earlier, felt close yet completely detached, belonging to someone…elsewhere.

The chimes on the door jingled, pulling Chan from his thoughts as he glanced up to see a familiar figure. Finally, he could match the voice he’d been hearing to a face.

“Hey, Chan. The usual, please,” Beomgyu greeted, his tone dry, with the same dark circles under his eyes from late-night gaming marathons.

‘Is it me, or does he look shittier than usual?’ The words echoed in Chan’s mind, clear as if spoken aloud, though Beomgyu’s lips never moved. Chan froze, the unexpected comment hitting him square in the chest—both offending and unnerving him.

“Excuse me?” Chan retorted, defensively narrowing his eyes.

Beomgyu blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Uh… the usual? Kimchi ramen with cheese and a Cherry slush?”

‘Man, hasn’t he worked here for, like, a year? Doesn’t he have this down by now?’

“What? Of course, I do!” Chan shot back, his voice sharp with irritation.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, now clearly baffled. “Dude, what are you talking about? Just give me my stuff.”

Chan swallowed, feeling a strange tension creeping over him. He forced himself to look down, suddenly unsure whether he was hearing Beomgyu–or actually going insane.

“Right. Sorry. It'll be out in a second,” Chan mumbled, suddenly sheepish as he accepted the cash, his usual confidence thrown off-kilter.

Beomgyu gave him a lingering, puzzled look before shrugging it off and drifting over to his usual seat in the corner. As he walked away, Chan felt an odd prickling sensation in the back of his mind—the familiar voice filtering through, more unsettling this time.

‘Has he gone psycho or something?’

Chan’s heart skipped, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the words that had somehow entered his mind, clear as day, despite Beomgyu’s silent, closed lips. His fingers clenched the counter as he steadied himself, wondering if he was finally cracking under the stress or if something far stranger was at play.

‘Another day, another W!’

Another voice then grew louder, closer, and was growing more anxious, sweat beading down his forehead out of bewilderment. What in the fuck was happening?

Seokmin emerged from the doors, seeing Chan with a bright smile as he leaned up against the counter. “Hi Chan, a couple of sprites and two orders of rose spicy rice cakes please.”

‘I’ma burn through iron into silver today. I just know it!’

Chan’s hands hovered over the register, a sense of déjà vu creeping over him as he felt the words echo in his mind. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the buttons. “Y-you trying to rank up in Overwatch again today?” he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Seokmin laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Wonwoo and Jeonghan are coming by to play on their day off.”

‘Ooh, I should check if they have that series in stock again. I missed it last time.’

“What series were you looking for again?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he glanced up from the register.

Seokmin blinked, a little startled, clearly wondering how Chan had guessed. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about it. What was it called again?” ‘Kindergarden wars–’

“Kindergarten Wars, right? The Kindergarten Cop of Manga? That one?” Chan asked, his voice coming out a bit too smooth for his own comfort.

Seokmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping him. “Whoa, I just barely remembered the title! You’re on a roll, buddy. But yeah, that’s the one! Do you have it in stock?”

“Yeah, we should have a few copies in. I’ll grab one for you when your order’s ready,” Chan replied, managing a grin, though stark comparison to the panic festering in his body.

"Aw, you’re the best, Chan. Thanks!” Seokmin flashed a wide grin as he swiped his card, practically bouncing toward his usual corner. He arranged a couple of chairs, setting up a cozy little space for his friends, buzzing around like a busy bee as he prepped the area, clearly itching to dive into his day.

Meanwhile, Chan’s nerves were going through it. He kept glancing at the entrance, anxiety creeping up his spine as he wondered if the next person through the door would, once again, broadcast their every thought straight into his head. Just thinking about it made him want to puke, the effects of the bizarre events not dissipating in the slightest.

The rest of Chan’s day became a relentless cascade of intrusive thoughts, each one amplifying the disquiet simmering inside him. Every new customer brought a fresh wave of private musings, some harmless, others startlingly personal, or worse yet, straight creepy. The sheer volume of it all began to blur together into an overwhelming hum.

‘Fuck not again.’

‘Hell yeah, a new skin!’

‘He’s so annoying I wish he would just die already.’

‘I swear, they said ‘one more game’ like an hour ago.’

‘They’re all trash. Worthless. I’m surrounded by idiots who can’t play for shit.’

‘They won’t last. She’ll cheat on him, or he’ll leave her. It’s inevitable.’

The familiar buzz of the cafe felt unusually oppressive, almost suffocating, as Chan struggled to tune out the voices around him. He found himself straining to differentiate between what was actually spoken and what slipped uninvited into his mind, the line between reality and thought as thin as it was maddening.

"Hey, Hao, I’m gonna take five."

Chan didn’t wait for a reply. He bolted out of the business and up the narrow staircase to his residence, his pulse hammering in his ears. The familiar murmur of echoing voices trailed him, each step feeling heavier than the last, the whispers chasing him even as he tried to leave them behind. It wasn't until he closed the door with a soft but resolute click that they faded, now hushed but still there. Haunting him.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of voices still faintly buzzing in his mind. His hands tightened in his hair, fingers digging in as if grounding himself might silence the flood.

He shut his eyes, breathing in uneven breaths as he clamped his hands over his ears and somehow soothing the thoughts determined to run rampant. But every time he let his guard down, snippets of thought would slip through—fragmented phrases, stray judgments, random anxieties—taking up headspace like ghosts he couldn’t shake.

‘Why does he get everything? It should be me.’

‘The world would be better off without most of them, if not all.’

‘Where the hell is my ramen?’

‘I hope I didn’t get stood up. I sent her Uber money.’

Nothing about this made sense. It was impossible—just yesterday, his life had been normal, and now he was hearing voices that sounded exactly like his friends’ private thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some supernatural CW drama, no Halloween special with a secret message all along for the protagonist. This was real life, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was somehow…reading minds.

The thought sparked a fresh jolt of panic, twisting his insides into knots. It was a fear he hadn’t known lurked within him, clawing its way to the surface and leaving his stomach churning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force it away, to dismiss it as some ridiculous, passing delusion. But the voices only grew louder, like an insistent, rising tide that wouldn’t let him brush this off as a mere joke or a temporary glitch in the simulation. No, they clung to him, refusing to fade—unyielding, pressing against his mind as if daring him to question his own sanity.

Then there was a knock. Soft at first, followed by the hesitant creak of the door easing open. Chan barely registered it, too consumed by the relentless flood of thoughts racing through his head, repeating to himself, “You’re not real, you’re not real…”

“Chan?”

His eyes flew open, finally taking in the figure silhouetted in the doorway—you. Your expression was a blend of concern and hesitation as you stepped cautiously into his room. A pang of surprise coursed through him, igniting a spark of defensiveness that flared to life within him, seeing you making the weight on his head worse. He forced himself to hold your gaze, feeling exposed under the weight of your possible scrutiny. “W-what do you want?” he stammered, the words escaping him in apprehension.

You raised an eyebrow, though your usual edge seemed softened. “Minghao asked me to come get you. He’s worried. Looks like he was right—finally lost your mind, or something?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, barely keeping his voice steady.

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan—”

“Save it.” He cut you off, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he took a half-step back, almost as if he expected you to throw something back his way. Just as you always have. “I’m not gonna take whatever crap you’re planning, so if that’s your game, just forget it.”

You blinked, caught off guard, a flash of irritation tightening your expression. “Wow,” you muttered, crossing your arms with a look that was half offense, half amusement. “Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”

“I’m not feeling well, alright? And you don’t make it any easier. If you think I’m going to keep letting you walk all over me, forget it. Go pick on someone else.”

“Wow, look at you finally picking up your backbone from the floor,” you taunted, slowly closing the distance between you. Your voice dripped with mockery as you studied him, taking in the tense lines of his posture and the way his jaw clenched in irritation. “If this is about the party, the offer still stands. I know what I said, but—”

“But nothing. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now. Just piss off.” His voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive, as if he was trying to shield himself from your probing.

“Ooh, look at you using big words,” you snickered tilting your head as you leaned in slightly, your eyes narrowing in challenge. “Is all the stress of pleasing everyone finally catching up to you? Or are you just realizing you’re not capable of doing something that requires responsibility?”

Chan stepped closer, piercing through you with a sharp glare as your smile broadened, infused with a stubborn determination that only irritated him further. No matter what he said, you remained resolute, and he could sense his resolve beginning to crack under the weight of your taunts, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Or,” he began, feeling the voice in his head finally recede as a surge of courage washed over him. “I have so much of my own shit going on. Ever thought about that? Now, why don't you turn around and mind your goddamn business before I should teach you how to shut up while I’m at it.” The dominance in his tone surprised even him, and for the first time, he felt like he was finally in control of himself and his newfound ability.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes, the way it deepened the timbre of his voice, radiating uncontainable energy you’d never seen from Chan before. The confidence that once danced in your gaze faltered, giving way to a glint of surprise as you struggled to hold onto your composure. Your lips parted slightly, words caught in your throat as you processed his unexpected boldness—and the effect it was having on you.

‘Holy shit.’

Your voice echoed in his mind, sending a thrill through him as his lips stretched from ear to ear menacingly. Finally—finally—he was the one with the upper hand.

“What? Nothing to say now?” he challenged, relishing the moment.

‘Holy shit, he’s so hot when he’s mad.’

Confusion softened his features for a brief moment, and he couldn’t help but let out a, “What?”

“I…I didn’t say anything.”

‘Oh god, am I sweating? Can he smell me? Holy shit, he’s so close to me right now.’

Chan wasn’t sure what he was hearing right now. Especially whatever this was. His mind was already spinning from the obnoxiously loud and relentless voices echoing in his head from earlier—this was something else. The anxiety of your voice in his head, laced with something vulnerable he’s never seen in you before, threw him off-kilter. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he processed the stray thoughts that weren’t his own, thoughts that broke through the background noise with an unexpected force.

He drew in a breath, barely steady, as he took in every flicker of your expression—the way your lips quivered as if on the edge of saying something, then closed again, and how your gaze dropped just briefly, as if to gather strength, before lifting to meet his, defiant but with a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. That simmering frustration from earlier dissolved, replaced by a charged curiosity that spread through him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his words roll out slowly, teasingly, testing the waters of this sudden change in power.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard, your shoulders tensing as though bracing against an invisible force. He could practically feel the hurried, jumbled thoughts in your head racing, flickering across your face—hesitation, curiosity, that rare glint of resolve that never seemed to completely fade. It was almost…endearing.

The moment felt charged, like standing on the brink of something electrifying and forbidden. Chan found himself leaning into it, savoring the way his voice dropped, roughened, responding instinctively to this unguarded version of you.

“What?” he murmured, his smile laced with challenge. “Cat got your tongue?”

You drew in a slow breath, fingers clutching the doorframe behind you as if anchoring yourself, your gaze flickering from his face to his hands and then back again, as though the very air around you had thinned.

"Just…” Your voice faltered, lingering in the air, yet you held his gaze, a reluctant tension in your eyes, as if resisting an urge falling deep down a pit you’ve already managed to avoid for so long.

“Just what?” he pressed, amusement saturating his tone, relishing in your timid silence.

You hesitated, pressing your lips together before looking away. “Just… get back to work,” you muttered, fingers clenching the door frame for a moment before finally releasing it as you turned to go.

‘That…was crazy.’

Chan watched you leave, barely holding back a grin as a strange, exhilarating sense of control lingered. For the first time, he felt like he had turned the tables. This bizarre predicament suddenly had its perks.

As the thought settled, another realization dawned: maybe these powers—or whatever they were—could be harnessed. And you, of all people, might just be the key. Finally, it seemed you had some use after all.

The rest of the day passed with surprising ease, a sense of control settling over Chan as he slowly came to terms with this new ability. Whatever this was, if it meant you kept your distance and stayed in check, now it was about time you tasted a bit of your own medicine.

Meanwhile, you kept to the far side of the room, throwing him occasional glances that were equal parts wary and curious, as if still processing the shift that had unfolded between you. The quiet in your demeanor was foreign—almost like a subtle retreat—but Chan could still hear every single thought racing through your mind, echoing around him, feeding his ego.

‘Fuck, why is he looking at me like that?’

The echo of your uncertainties only made Chan’s grin widen. Each new thought layered itself over the rest, but somehow, yours always came through with striking clarity, as if your mind was the loudest voice in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was honing in on it by instinct or if his newfound ability had a mind of its own, drawn to you by sheer force of will—or intrigue.

‘It’s like he’s seeing right through me…oh my god, can you see my underwear or something? I’m gonna kill myself.’

You visibly clenched your thighs, turning away from Chan to avoid his gaze but he was the only thing on his mind. You couldn’t even enjoy the game you were playing anymore.

‘God, he looks really good…makes me wanna take him in the back and tie my hair up–shit, how long is gonna stare at me?’

As each thought drifted by, Chan skillfully sifted through the chaos, honing in on the captivating essence of your unguarded musings. A swell of pride blossomed within him as he recognized that this ability to read minds might not be a curse after all; it was a remarkable gift, one potent enough to give him control over someone as difficult as you

"Leaving so soon, dearest customer?” Chan drawled, leaning against the wall by the exit, his eyes tracking every movement as you gathered your things, your grip tightening around the strap of your backpack.

‘Was he…waiting for me?’

He scoffed, removing his name tag as he did at the end of every shift, a knowing glint in his eyes as he held your gaze, refusing to look away. “You just seem…distant. Thought I’d check in.”

‘He was thinking about me?’ The thought sparked something in you, and you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Maybe you should focus on yourself for once, and I don’t mean…” Your gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, warmth spreading up your neck.

‘Not that I’d be entirely against it,’ you thought with a quiet chuckle.

With a step forward, his confidence seemed to fill the space between you, his eyes sweeping over you with a boldness that made you catch your breath. He regarded you with a half-lidded gaze, as though he could see through you, a look that sent a prickle of goosebumps over your skin. “Only you would make my concern for you about my genitals,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Think about them often, do you?”

You nearly stumbled, his words unraveling your composure as he turned your teasing back on you with a mastery that left you momentarily speechless. “You…”

“Was I on the money? It’s showing on your face.”

You shook your head lightly, brushing past him without a word, pretending the encounter hadn’t rattled you. But as you moved, he followed, a faint smirk lingering as he kept pace just behind you, relishing in the control he held. Chan tuned into the steady stream of thoughts he could almost feel buzzing around your mind—every second of fluster, every trace of hesitation.

With each step, he could sense your resolve slipping, see the barely concealed tension in your hurried stride as you exited the café, almost like you were running but with no clear destination in mind. And he kept watching, unhurried, savoring every moment as he let his presence linger just enough to keep himself quietly literally in the back of your mind, conflicted with the current predicament.

“Where are you going? You never did answer my question,” he called after you, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, refusing to let your stride falter. “You’re being weird today.”

‘Need to stop myself from jumping him with the way he’s looking at me,’ your thoughts betrayed you, louder than you’d like.

He raised an eyebrow, matching your pace with ease. “Speak for yourself. It’s like you can’t help but avoid me. Almost like you’re hiding something.”

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, though the effort was as shaky as it was bold. “Wow, nosy much? If I didn’t know better, Chan, I’d think you’re obsessed with me or something.” ‘If that’s the case, God smite me right now.’

“Sounds like you’re projecting.” Chan closed the gap between you, stepping so close only a half-arm’s length separated you. His eyes swept over you, catching the subtle quiver you tried to hide. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your obsession is the reason you can barely look me in the eyes right now. Or maybe you’re undressing me with them. Is that it?”

‘Please, for Christ’s sake, I am two seconds away from tearing the clothes off your back and making you shut up with my mouth,’ the thought flashed hot and unfiltered, betraying you in every glance.

Chan’s grin widened, reveling in the crackling tension radiating from you. "Careful with where your eyes are going," he murmured, voice low and teasing. “You don’t know what I might have to do about it if you don’t.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving you rooted in place, your final unguarded thoughts echoing in his head as he went back home.

‘Maybe that's all I want to do now.’

In the days leading up to Halloween, you’d been keeping your distance, and Chan’s telepathic abilities showed no signs of fading. Every day, you kept to the same routine—avoiding his gaze, interacting with your shared friends, and hiding those unspeakably dirty thoughts behind a prissy, composed facade. At first, Chan found it amusing, this secret insight into your mind, but as the days wore on, he became more curious, more intrigued. How much of what you showed the world actually aligned with those hidden, guilty desires?

His gaze drifted to the costume hanging in his closet like an eyesore—a dinosaur suit that, though comical, would probably have him sweating profusely all night. Then there was Soonyoung’s “thirst trap” suggestion, an outfit that showed way more skin, something Chan had immediately rejected and returned but still left in the back of his mind. However, an idea began to take shape, a clever compromise that might just keep your attention exactly where he wanted it. For experimental reasons, of course.

You didn’t come into work that day, likely dodging him on purpose, which only left Chan to navigate the usual mundane thoughts of the café’s patrons—mostly comments about costumes or Halloween plans. Without your thoughts slipping into his mind, the day seemed flat, dull even.

“Hey, Chan.” ‘Hello body-ody-ody.’

Chan caught Jeonghan’s stare as he stood there in a rabbit costume, the moment stretching out just a beat too long. Chan’s confidence wavered just a bit, a warm flush creeping up his neck as he glanced down, lightly fiddling with the arms of his dinosaur onesie, which were tied loosely around his waist. He was half-bare beneath the café lights, with only a simple chain dangling around his neck, and suddenly the whole look felt a little bolder than he’d intended.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his voice softening as he managed, “Uh…am I doing too much?” He could feel his cheeks warm as he looked up again, almost as if he expected Jeonghan to burst out laughing any second. But instead, Jeonghan’s expression softened, a crooked smile forming, clearly more amused than anything.

“...Huh? Oh, sorry, I was looking at your body.”

Chan’s cheeks flushed as he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. “Bro,” he muttered, clearly flustered.

“Chan, you’re fine. It’s Halloween, dressing like a slut is normal in this time of year.” Jeonghan clapped him on the shoulder.

“Jeonghan…”Chan murmured, half-scolding but feeling even more self-conscious under Jeonghan’s praise.

“In fact, I’m happy you’re finally putting yourself out here. I would think the eye candy I hired would sell himself off a little more,” Jeonghan chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘And man, did I nail that hire.’

Chan blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

‘I’m not,’ Jeonghan thought proudly, then said aloud, “I’m not.” Jeonghan’s devilish smile widened as he subtly nodded toward the crowd filling the café. Among the usual patrons were a few fresh faces, particularly a growing group of college-aged girls who seemed unable to keep their eyes off Chan.

Chan’s thoughts drifted back to that morning. He’d been in the stockroom, reorganizing supplies while Minghao ran the front, completely unaware of the number of glances that had slipped through the cracked door, trailing over him as he worked. Now, seeing the lingering stares, he realized his costume had sparked more than just Halloween spirit—it had created quite a stir, evening out it’s usually male dominated atmosphere.

Now he was starting to wonder if he’d been filtering out the roaming thoughts a little too well, considering what he’d missed:

‘What is that costume even…? Actually, I don’t even care. He’s so yummy…’

‘I’m literally drooling. Oh my god, he just looked at me—I’m shaking.’

‘Did guys this hot always work here? Guess I’ll have to come by more often now.’

‘I kind of want to get his number…maybe then he’d let me ride his—’

Chan's eyes widened as the wave of unabashed admiration washed over him. He hadn’t expected this much attention, and a shy grin crept onto his face. “I-I get it now. Um… wow.”

He threw a timid glance toward their corner, and the response was immediate: the girls erupted in muffled squeals, giggling and whispering as if sharing secrets too wild to be spoken aloud. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and infatuation, lingering on him even as they leaned into each other, cheeks flushed, exchanging looks that made Chan feel both flattered and exposed.

“See? You’re a staple here, and you’re doing great,” Jeonghan said with a grin. “Rack up those tips, and when you clock out, fill me in on any last-minute details about the party tonight. Just in case I missed anything.”

“Sure, Jeonghan.”

Now that Chan had come to terms with the fact that his costume was effective for a similar demographic, a swell of confidence bubbled within him that you would react the same. All he needed now was a chance to show it off to the right person. But as he glanced around the café, scanning for you amidst the crowd, a tinge of disappointment set in. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter of the spooky festivities, you were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was the reason.

As the hour drew nearer, Chan felt a growing sense of frustration. Maybe he had been misreading your thoughts all along, or perhaps his powers were glitching today. The very idea of having such abilities was absurd, yet here he was, confused as to why he couldn’t detect your voice. He needed to make sense of it all. How could you swing from hating him one moment to lusting after him the next, only to ghost him entirely? Each possibility twisted in his mind, leaving him feeling more lost than ever. The anticipation that had once excited him now felt heavy with uncertainty, gnawing at his confidence just as he was getting used to it.

Seungcheol’s voice rang out with a mix of authority and enthusiasm, echoing through the bustling café. His energy was infectious, as he gestured animatedly, urging everyone to transition from the work grind to the festive spirit. With his usual flair, he rallied the team, his eyes sparkling with excitement for whatever chaos awaited them upstairs. The air buzzed with anticipation as he clapped his hands together, urging the staff to shake off the day’s fatigue and dive into the night’s festivities.

Meanwhile, Chan busied himself with the final preparations for the party, glancing at the door every few moments, hoping to see you walk through it finally. He didn’t have much of a plan but he had the spirit of one, bouncing off in the corners of his mind like the vibrant colors of the haunted jungle punch sloshing around in his red Solo cup. The punch was fruity and something strong, but it did little to calm his growing anticipation.

Despite the cheerful atmosphere around him, he fought to maintain a carefree demeanor, all while tuning out the cacophony of voices in his head. Racy thoughts and flirtations from other partygoers echoed through his mind, but none of it held the same thrill as the prospect of hearing your voice. Each thought was a distraction, a reminder of the palpable heat that he felt on his skin when he heard your thoughts for the first time and how it made his heart clench for a reason other than annoyance.

He could almost visualize the energy you brought with you, the way your laughter lit up the room, and how your teasing remarks made his pulse pick up pace. Chan found himself nursing the drink, hoping the sugar and alcohol would somehow bridge the gap between him and you not being here like he hoped you’d be. The raucous fun around him only intensified his longing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t be complete without you by his side.

‘Oh, fuck.’

It hit him like the chime of a clock striking the hour, electrifying and undeniable. Your voice echoed in his mind, pulling his attention as if drawn by an invisible force. He turned to see you entering through the doors, your presence instantly commanding the room.

Your gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. You were enveloped in a dress of the deepest black, hugging your form from chest to waist before flaring out dramatically and hitting just above your knees. Sheer green tights adorned your legs, glimmering under the soft lights, and a pointed hat crowned your head. You were a vision of the Wicked Witch of the West and Chan could see that never had he thought that vision could be so alluring.

In that moment, everything around him dissolved—the laughter, the music, the chatter of partygoers—as his entire focus narrowed in on you. You were breathtaking, igniting something primal within him that he thought he could shut off. But—

‘I could eat you up, Lee Chan.’

A smile tugged at his lips as he followed after you, sharing the same sentiment as your unspoken hunger. “Took you long enough.”

‘Mmh, so he was waiting for me. Again.’

“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” Your chuckle was laced with arrogance. ‘Where the hell is his shirt? And why couldn’t he have given me the pleasure of taking it off?’

“You’ve been avoiding me, which is unusual for you,” Chan remarked sarcastically, watching intently as you poured yourself a drink, bending his arm in a way that not-so-effortlessly flexed his upper arms. “And you didn’t come by the café at all today.” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his gaze. “I thought it might have something to do with me.”

“You?” Your incredulity echoed in your mind. ‘Lee Chan? You were worried about me?’

You stepped closer, invading his space with a confidence that sent a thrill through him. Your gaze traced a deliberate path from his eyes, down the strong line of his jaw, pausing to appreciate the way the light danced across his bare skin. It dipped lower, gliding over the defined contours of his chest, each muscle accentuated by the flickering glow of the party lights. You lingered at his waistband, taking in the way the fabric clung to him seductively.

As your eyes returned to his, there was a spark of mischief in them that didn’t need mind reading to understand, leaving the recipient breathless. The air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken words but clear dialogue, thick with a tension that wrapped around you both. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, drawing him closer to you. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in this charged moment, as if the very atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

“Yeah. Me.” Chan confirmed, his grin widening.

“Well, look who took the time to finally make it.” You both felt a weight on your shoulders as someone drove in between you both, becoming the deli meat in this strange sandwich.

Soonyoung hugged his cheeks between your faces and grinned, oblivious as always to his surroundings. “Hey, guys.”

‘Good, I stopped the fight before they decked it out in front of everyone.’

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist and forcing a smile. “I see you’re recycling your costume from last year.”

“Uh, it’s not a reuse! This is clearly a brand-new bodysuit, complete with paws!” He lifted his tiger mitts dramatically, waving them in front of your face as if trying to convince you of their novelty. “Very new and totally fierce!”

“Oh, of course, you look good.” You chuckled, genuinely appreciating his energy.

Soonyoung then turned his attention to Chan, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa, Chan! Look at you, buddy! I told you showing off a little skin would do you good, and wow, look at all this!”

He let out an exaggerated whistle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our sexy little dinosaur! You’re making all the other costumes look bad!”

“Okay, okay, thanks, Soon.” Chan let out a hearty laugh, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks as he playfully patted his friend’s shoulder. He quickly shrugged him off, attempting to create a buffer to ward off Soonyoung’s inevitable groping.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re supposed to be,” You teased, “Couldn’t tell from the lack of clothes.”

Chan snorted, his amusement bubbling to the surface. “I’m clearly showcasing my costume from the waist down—tail included,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “But just remember, even if my costume is down there…” He raised his fingers and motioned to his eyes, an impish glint in his gaze “…my eyes are definitely up here.”

‘What if I want to look at what’s underneath the costume?’

‘What’s going on here...?”

Chan can’t help but grin at the challenge in your eyes while blatantly ignoring the confusion in Soonyoung’s.

“Showing off the merchandise but not letting people browse? You’re not exactly running a lucrative business here, Lee Chan.”

“Who says I’m running a business?” Chan shot back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m simply looking for..exclusive clientele.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, an invitation wrapped in flirtation.

‘I might have to sample a bit of that to see if it’s to my taste, which I’m sure it will be,’ you thought, wishing you could say it out loud. Instead, a soft giggle escaped your lips, though Chan caught the thought loud and clear. A playful grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leaned in just a little closer, seeing the playfulness dance in your eyes.

“You guys are speaking weird,” Soonyoung chimed in, his words slightly slurred as the effects of the alcohol began to show. He swayed a little, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

Chan patted his striped friend on the back with a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you check if Jihoon needs help with the music, buddy? You’d be a real asset.”

“Oh, I would be so good at that!” Soonyoung declared, practically bouncing on his heels before darting off with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Chan turned back to you, arching an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye, eager to stretch out the moment. “So, did you bring anything special to offer?”

“Just some wine that Minghao practically wrestled away from me when I walked through the front door,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a feigned exasperation. “Have you sorted out those party games you were so excited about?”

“Should be starting in a couple of minutes,” he assured, his gaze flicking around the party setup, but the warmth of his attention remained fixed on you. “In the meantime, feel free to indulge in the snacks or candy. They’re just as sweet as you.”

‘Oh?’

“How thoughtful of you,” you compliment, pleasantly surprised.

“Forgot to mention the warheads, but still considerably sweet.”

The night unfolded like a game of push and pull, with Chan pulling you in more than he ever had before. The playful tension crackled between you, and he could tell that the idea of playing hard to get was on your mind tonight. Even with all the distractions around you, your thoughts were surprisingly coherent—you wanted Chan, and he knew it. Yet you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. That was when he realized that the party games he had planned would serve as the perfect tool to tilt the odds in his favor.

“Alright, everyone, gather around! On behalf of our activities coordinator, Chan, I’ll be hosting the game he selected for us tonight. Why don’t you tell us what it is, Chan?” Seungcheol announced, his tone playful as he gestured for Chan to take the spotlight.

Chan stepped forward, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Tonight, we’ll be playing manhunt—a twist on hide and seek with major stakes. The last person standing will win a grand prize, and the seeker who finds the most players will earn a reward just as significant. There will be three seekers.” He paused for effect, relishing the eager anticipation in the room. “The rules are simple: (1) no running, (2) you must reveal yourself once your name is called, and (3) most importantly, have fun. The prizes will be unveiled after the game ends.”

Vernon raised his hand eagerly. “Is the prize money?”

“Vernon, what did I just say?” Chan replied, suppressing a grin as he earned a solemn nod in response.

“Is there a time limit?” Mingyu chimed in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“Forty minutes.”

Wonwoo started to raise his hand. “What about—”

“Enough questions!” Seungcheol interrupted, chuckling as he saw the anticipation on everyone’s faces. “Chan, pick your seekers.”

Chan rubbed his hands together, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the crowd, already knowing who he wanted. “I choose Joshua, Seokmin, and myself. While Seungcheol counts to twenty, the rest of you will scatter and hide.” His grin widened, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And remember, don’t get caught. Losers will face punishment, too,” he added, eliciting a collective groan from the group.

Seungcheol stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for the helpers to shut off all the lights, leaving the entire floor of the building pitch black and ready for the taking. “Starting now. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”

The harmonious sound of footsteps retreated from the room, the darkness perfectly concealing any shadows that might betray anyone’s position. Chan needed no light to do what he had to do but turned on his phone camera the moment the counting ended. He met the eyes of his fellow seekers, barely visible in the glow of their phone lights, anticipation clear on their faces. “We’ll cover our own ground until we run out of places to search, then it’s a free-for-all,” Joshua suggested.

“Got it. I’ll head out first,” Chan insisted, earning a collective nod and finding his own path.

He navigated through the stream of thoughts, weaving between them like a radio dial tuning into a specific frequency, determined to hone a singular voice.

‘Ugh, why did I have to choose this one to hide in? This is such a bad idea.’

Chan smiled recognizing the familiar pitch, beelining straight for the sound, passing the other voices that may interrupt his route.

In a singular room, his in particular, you were the only one loud enough to break through.

‘Oh, shit, someone’s here. Please go away, please go away.’

No matter how carefully you tried to muffle your presence, it radiated from the closet, an open invitation to Chan’s mind-reading senses. He crept closer, footsteps soft as whispers, his hand hovering over the knob. With a slow, deliberate movement, he eased it open, revealing your figure barely concealed behind the racks of his half-filled closet. Your eyes darted to his, and a quiet “Fuck…” slipped out as he stepped inside, claiming the cramped space beside you.

The closet was shadowed in near-darkness, the room's lights off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating through the slits of the closet in faint, wispy beams. As your eyes adjusted, you could just make out the silhouette of Chan, his figure close, a playfully smug smile catching the dim light as he settled in front of you.

‘What is he–’

Chan lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before you could utter a protest. His eyes held yours with an intensity that had your pulse racing, each beat a rapidly beating under the thin skin of your neck. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway outside, the other seekers passing by Chan’s room without a second thought, oblivious to the two of you hidden mere inches apart.

‘He’s so close. He smells so good,’ you thought, the hint of his cologne making your breath hitch. Chan couldn’t help the tiny grin tugging at his lips—props to him for choosing the good cologne today.

‘He’s practically pressed against me. Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like?’

Chan stifled a laugh, stepping even closer, until the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable. In a whisper, he teased, “Try not to get caught.”

“But you—” you started, barely finding your voice to remind him that he was in fact one of the people you’re not supposed to get caught from, only to have it die on your lips as his hand pressed lightly on the wall beside you, leaving little room to breathe, let alone escape.

“Shh,” he murmured, eyes glinting as he held you captive against the panel, a hair’s breadth away.

“Chan…” you murmured, half-breathless, gazing up at him with a mixture of confusion and exhilaration as the closeness left you dizzy, the space between you charged and impossibly small.

His eyes drifted down, seeing your lips pursed slightly in direction, calling to his attention, begging to be claimed.

‘He’s staring again.’ your thighs clenched against each other, hiding the pool of your heat as you could feel it seep through your panties. ‘He looks at me like this any longer I might just fuck him right here.’

Chan shifted closer, his nose grazing yours, so close he could catch the faint sweetness lingering on your breath. "You have to be quiet…real quiet," he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“W-why?” you stammered, the question coming out in a whisper as his hands found your hips, drawing you against him with a gentle but possessive pull.

He paused, his eyes flicking between yours, a soft smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Because,” he breathed, his voice sending a delicious warmth down your spine, before he leaned in, closing the miniscule gap and bridging you together in the sweetest of symphonies.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god–’

His hand clasped against your cheek, hips digging against yours and pinning you to the wall as his tongue traced in the inside of your mouth, exploring you until he could familiarize himself. He felt bound to you, having taste what’s been distant thought now a full blown movie, a movie that he'd rewatch until the day he dies.

Your hand caressed the back of his neck, tenderly kneading his skin and pushing yourself closer to his body. The hands that ached to touch him found their peace, gliding on his skin and feeling the outline of his body, through every contour and crevice, so hot it’s sweltering, simply melting underneath him.

‘This is so awesome…don’t ever make this stop…’

He held you by your thigh, brought it to his exposed side, and lifted you from the ground, crushing his weight against you to keep you in place. His eagerness poked against your stomach, taunting you with its size, and parting your mind for thoughts of its sensation plunging inside you, wrecking havoc.

‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum thinking about what I’d do when I fuck him.’

Chan softly chuckled, pulling away and looking at the glisten in your eyes, feeling your skin flushed against him, hearing how your mind screamed for him in ache. “Are you—“

“Yes,” you gingerly nodded, not giving him a second to finish his sentence, “Whatever it is. Yes. Or no. Or whatever.”

‘Good god, get a grip. Desperate much?’

Chan’s hand crept under the fabric of your skirt, sliding down beneath the layer of green pantyhose and underwear, your vicious slickness immediately coating his fingers. “I like you a little desperate,” he confessed in staggered whispers before slotting his lips between yours again.

Your throbbing cunt thrummed beneath his digits, pulsing around him as he pushed on inside, already coating his knuckles. You seized around him, clenching your stomach, as a clear moan escaped you.

‘What was that?’ Chan sensed Seokmin’s thoughts a mere meters away, franticness in his eyes and the voice of his fellow seeker followed after. “Hello?”

“Hey Seok, Just me!” Chan covered for you, fingers thrusting as they curled up inside you. “I hit my foot on something, so I’m taking a minute breather in my room. No one's here!”

“Mmh, okay, Buddy. Be more careful!”

As soon as the coast was clear, his attention averted back to you. “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”

His hand clamped over your mouth and blocking sounds from leaving as he entered another finger, feeling your muffles hummed satisfyingly against his palm. His smile stretched to the corner of his face. “I told you I’d make you shut up wouldn’t I?”

You rocked into the merciless paces of Chan’s fingers, feeling them massage you in and out, as his palm ground itself against your clit. You head knocked back against the wall behind you, joined by Chan at your hip, letting his fingerss fuck you the way you wish his cock finally would. ‘Oh Lee Chan, Lee Chan, Lee Chan…’

You steadied your arms around his shoulders, eyes fluttering in and out of focus, while your hips snapped back him. It was second nature at this point, responding to him with nothing but open arms.

‘His fingers…my god, his fucking fingers…’

“Faster? Deeper?” Chan offered, sweat dampening tendrils hitting at his eyes.

You nodded, giving no coherent answer as he took away your ability to breathe. ‘Yes, both, please.’

He’d give it to you, watching as tears swelled up in eyes from ecstasy, ramming his digits until he didn’t care who could hear the delicious squelching, the manhunt game so far back in subconscious, it was practically nonexistent.

‘Needed him so bad, need him to fuck me so stupid I could feel him in my throat…Lee Chan…’

Even without mind reading, the look in your eyes told him everything. Your gaze was intense, charged with an incredible sense of longing, as if it held secrets that could start wars or shatter worlds. There was something almost dangerous in it, introducing him to a hunger he couldn’t ignore. How had he never noticed this before? It practically screamed at him to cross these invisible lines. And for a heartbeat, the world felt as if it teetered on the edge, making him realize his touch unleashed something neither of you could hold back from.

When you contracted around his fingers, there was no better word than heaven, the thick release in his enveloping grasp, collecting at the cup of his hands.

Chan showed a hint of mercy, letting your feet settle back on the ground. You pried your tired eyes open, letting the faint moonlight help you take in the dreamy sight before you as you slowly recovered from the waves of your climax. Chan, clearly intrigued by the quiet of your mind, ran his tongue along the underside of his palm, jolting you back to life as you watched, breath hitching at the sight.

‘Oh my…’

Chan grinned, his tongue dragging against every curve, every wrinkle, following even the drip running down his forearm, his eyes not breaking a beat from you as he ate your cum off his fingers. He pressed against you, sweaty and flushed, ensuring every bit of you laid flat on his tongue, swallowing every sweet drop of that golden nectar, softly moaning about its flavor. “Better than my favorite candy.”

‘Oh, this man needs to get me pregnant.’

“A couple more to go! Watch out!” Joshua shouted from down the hall.

There was a brief moment of trepidation Chan felt, cursing his friend mentally for getting their tasks done so quickly, stunned that you and him were able to keep hidden for so long. Chan knew he had to make a move, and quickly.

Shoving up the skirt of your dress, he tore the delicate seams of your green stockings, and a gasp escaped your lips before you had the chance to hush yourself. As soon as you were exposed, Chan sank to his knees, wasting no time. He gripped the ruched hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in his hands in rushed anticipation, pushing aside your panties with his teeth and burying his face inside your warm pussy.

‘This little whore, oh my..’

His tongue pushed flat against you, taking you in at long stripes as his eyes bordered on impatience and deliberate, savoring at how you squirmed against him when his pink muscle curled and licked circles at your entrance. You pushed your weight on him, cried at the thought of him eating you alive when any moment you could get caught.

‘He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Fuck, those pretty eyes looking back at me. He looks so good eating me out. God, fuck.’

He took your free hand, guiding it to the back of his head, gesturing you to hold on, and like magic, the lower half of his face vanished between your wet folds.

“Oh gah–” You’re the one to shut yourself off this time with the sharp bite of your lip, focused on the passionate exploration of Chan’s tongue–fucking you with intent, and you fought off the urge to scream. He held you up by your thighs, the darkness in his eyes zoning in on you, drunk in thought of witnessing another orgasm, and amplified your senses with the presence of his fingers. You gripped his hair for dear life–further encouraging him to go deeper–worshiping how the soft strands felt against the pads of your fingers as Chan worshipped every inch inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, combing through his hair. “Hmm, that’s so nice…god, you’re so hot eating me out like that…”

Chan was starting to confuse your words for thoughts, or maybe was it your thought for words, whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear them, your delightful praises directed towards him, or see that beautiful face contort with pleasure.

Your hips began to do that familiar jerk, your pelvis hitting his nose as you sensed something explosive near. Your sounds of ache muffled under your hands, and you twisted your hips, gasp breaking out of you helplessly, and Chan got that familiar fresh flavor of you on his tongue as it dripped out of you.

He helped himself up to pin you back on the wall, the taste of yourself in his mouth, startling addictive, and you reciprocated, getting everything that he’s worked for.

As he pulled away, staring back at you with an unspoken intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you going.”

Chan led you out of the closet, cum still dripping down your legs, joining the rest of the group to announce your victory: a month-long coupon for free snacks at the gaming café. The triumphant smile on your face as you timidly crossed your legs, only hinting at the far more thrilling victory you’d just shared in Chan’s closet.

The other seekers playfully elbowed him, teasing him for being a terrible seeker. "I’m shocked you found anyone with how long you took!" they laughed. But the mischievous glint in his eyes was hidden under a veil of innocuous feigned confusion. “Guess, I really suck at this,” he shrugged, “Glad you guys had fun.”

And everyone did have fun—so much so that nearly the whole crowd insisted on another round. A round that you and Chan would find just as—if not even more—entertaining than the first.

As soon as Chan locked the door for the PC Cafe, he reclaimed your lips, feeling for your heat underneath your dress and its familiar throb. “Finally, some privacy.”

As fellow hiders this round, you slipped away to a more secluded spot, somewhere private enough to pick up right where you’d left off. Here, with no one else to interrupt, the two of you could finally delve into that spark that you both have only begun starting to understand, the excitement between you simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be explored in the quiet privacy you’d carved out.

‘Lee Chan, the man you are.’

He slipped you out of your dress and let it hit the ground, leading you to behind the counter and pressing you against it. You looped your arms around him, tugging his dinosaur onesie off with your foot and kicking it to the ground along with your dress, caressing his cock protected under a layer of his briefs. “Chan, please I want you.”

‘More than you’d ever know.’

“I know,” He chuckled, tearing off the final obstacle of your underwear. And stuffing it in the abandoned skin of his Halloween costume. “And I’ll show just the kind of treatment you get when you ask nicely.”

He flipped you around, tearing your pantyhose higher on your ass, and bent you over in front of him. He slowly, and deliberately, fished out his cock, letting it slap against the curve of your ass, hearing the pleads inside your head.

‘God, he so knows what he’s doing. What a tease.’

His lips connected to the back of your neck, with a free hand squeezed around the flesh of your breast. “Say it.”

“Chan…” you whined. ‘Don’t make me beg.’

“I want to hear how much you want me inside of you. I need some transparency from you.”

“Of course, I want it, Chan.” You back yourself against him, leading the head of his cock towards your puffy slit. “Please.”

“Use your words, dirty girl,” He harshly whispered, invoking a feeling not only rare but foreign inside of you as you clenched around nothing.

“I-I want you inside me, Chan.”

“Doing what?”

You whined, “Fucking me.” ‘Using me.’

He scoffed, brimming with pride, readjusting your position as he saw fit, and slowly pushed himself inside you. When you adjust to his size, you had only begun to realize the impact it’s have on you, how it’s be hard to forget such a sensation, until he’s dragging his cock in and out of you. You clawed on wooden counter, bracing yourself, and echoing a low, long groan as he covered every inch of him in your slick walls.

The first thrust was methodical, calculated, determined to show you the whole range of what he’d give you and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated, but as he found his pace, you began to find your balance. “Oh, fuck…”

You were glued to him, his hips pounding himself against you as his hands collected your breasts in his hands, lips kissing up your neck and behind your ear. “Gonna make you fucking wish your only regret was not fucking me sooner.”

How he easily found your spot was mystery – one that you didn’t think too long and hard on – until he just kept doing it, pulling you back against him as he released his inhibitions. Your sweat pilled against each other, unsure where yours started and where his ends, your bodies intertwined into one sickening display of what almost a year of unspoken lust looked like.

‘Oh, I could get used to this. If he fucked me like this everyday, I wouldn’t complain for a single second.’

And Chan was almost counting on that.

He turned you around again, missing your face and admiring how your disheveled hair only framed its intoxicating aura as he lifted you against the counter and pushed his cock inside you as he towered over you.

The single chain around his neck brushed against your face repeatedly, and calling to your attention loud enough for only Chan to hear.

‘Omg his chain…this is like one of those Twitter memes where fanatics dream of their faves’ chain hanging above their face during sex…and it’s actually happening to me with Chan.’

Suddenly, he had an idea. “Bite on it.”

You blinked at him, registering his words as he suddenly stopped his thrusts. “…What?”

“Bite on my chain while I fuck the living shit out of you.”

You took your time processing the thought, before slowly leaning in, the chain barely meeting your lips before you took it between your teeth and pulled him down with you.

Chan’s once kind smile warped into something more sinister, more primal, and he granted you what he had promised.

His cock slammed against you, reverberating your walls, and you clung on the counter under you, while your vision flickered to the back of your skull. Gritting against the chain on your enamel, your head could not form words clear in any sense, just the echo of yours skin clashing and Chan reveled in that. “Good fucking girl.”

He hand struck your side, squishing you against the counter, feeding you his raw power course through you until he’s fill you up, over and over again. You feed his ego in a way he never expected from someone and wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let it go with whatever happened next, so he was gonna savor the moment he had.

As his arousal coursed through him, squeezed every ounce of energy out of you, ensuring he’d hear his name on your brain and out your lips. He held your tired body, stroking your sides, panting against your skin, and felt the final release ebb out of him like a stream, coating you in perfect white before settling down a stool nearby, sitting you on his lap as you rested against the security of his strong, broad frame.

Wherever this left the two of you, Chan just knew he needed to have you. And considering the emptiness in his head, he needed you for more than he realized.

#thediamondlifenetwork #svthub #dino smut #seventeen smut #dino #lee Chan #seventeen #lee chan smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #dino x reader #dino x you #dino x y/n #seventeen fanfic #seventeen dino #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n

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cripplecharacters · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hey!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. A prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to imply that a character is two-faced but mostly just signals that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that. I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different. A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here) - maybe it will give you some ideas.

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way. A fav of mine.) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor. I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed.

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #art reference #tropes

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senzasord · 16 days ago

Text

More spoiler thoughts on the allegory

I want to tread very carefully around this because it is a serious topic, but some of the subtler things are occurring to me about the Palestine-allegory in the episode.

Kid - the person planning the terrorist act is literally named Kid, and is explicitly explained to have been named this because his mother was killed before she could name him. I think how the episode delivered this was kind of clumsy, but I think it was a powerful choice to have this character - driven to extremes because his people have been genocided and then covered up - is Kid. Is a kid. This is a kid. A desperate kid. His actions are not being condoned, but they are put into a very clear context.

Cora's song - again, kind of clumsy (but very powerful scene; I almost cried). I think a surface interpretation of the scene is that it unfortunately kind of implied that the two choices were terrorism or benign appeal. BUT what I think it was /trying/ to say was this group of people need allies. It wasn't just that Cora revealed herself and self-advocated in a pretty dress, it was that the hosts undermined the corporation that was funding their spectacle by giving her screen time to appeal to 3 trillion people. It wasn't the end of the fight, but the start. And an indictment of the real song contest in our world that would never allow such a thing.

The Doctor torturing Kid - again, treading very cafefully here, but I think this is a second allegory within the episode. The Doctor, a member of a genocided group, taking his rage out on someone who has been disarmed. Not okay. And the narrative doesn't frame it as okay, regardless of what Kid was about to do. And more importantly, the narrative shows us that he needs someone to stop him. His actions are not okay and someone needed to stop him. Again, not perfectly presented, not a perfect allegory - and not meant to be a one-to-one allegory either, obviously. But I saw comments in the tags about how it was uncomfortable watching the doctor torture someone like that and - yes, it was. Because it was supposed to be.

I said in my other post that the episode was trying to be obvious and have plausible deniability at the same time, and I think that's a good thing. That's not the part that had issues. Because if it was OBVIOUS obvious, then you get things like Kill the Moon, and Kerblam!, and whatever that weird episode with Bill and the weird consent aliens were. If it was so on the nose as to be like these episodes, it would fail. You want the allegory to be imperfect, because in the gap is where you get the critique of the real world. Why does Rylan let Cora sing? Because the real Eurovision would never. Why does Belinda stop the Doctor? Because no one has stopped Israel. It just means in those gaps too, it's going to be clumsy, and that's where we can critique the episode too.

I hope this was respectful. Again, it's a very serious topic, and I wanted to approach it with that in mind. But I think my interpretations of these plot points are supported by the text, and therefore add to the point it's trying to make.

There's so much more in this episode to expand on too - we haven't even talked about the honey poppy thing, or the banning of Hellions from competing, or so many other little indictments of the Song Contest that mirror or reference the real world one. But those were the three things that have really jumped out at me that I haven't seen anyone really discuss, and I wanted to float the idea that maybe these things were on purpose, and that maybe in them we find a stronger thesis for the episode that what we see at first glance.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #the interstellar song contest #this is such a serious subject #i hope i was respectful

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wordsofwhimsy · 2 months ago

Text

【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Nine

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice of life, some serious showboating, Mark's still geekin 'bout that damn dress

Word Count: 2,285

Chapter Synopsis: Jealous Mark being jealous and a little unhinged. We love him tho.

a/n: Kyle better watch his mf back, that’s all i’m finna say on it

Part Eight

He tried. Really he did. Tried his damnedest to relax, to be normal.

Mark sat in his bedroom with the blinds drawn, biting into a bag of discount pretzels with a bit too much ferocity. He’d even turned on a movie—something dumb and loud and full of explosions—but none of it was enough to keep him from picturing you. Picturing you in that dress. At a stadium. Surrounded by people. With Kyle.

He pictured the way you’d smiled. Smiled at him like you didn’t even realize what you were doing to him. Like you didn’t know that standing there looking like that, in front of him, might’ve actually been the end of Mark's already-fragile grip on sanity.

He so clearly pictured your boobs. Those soft, beautiful legs. You had no idea what kind of weapon-grade arsenal you were walking around with.

And now Kyle knew too.

Kyle, who didn’t even understand what he was dealing with. Who had no idea that this was your first real outing, that you’d never done something like this before, that you’d said yes because you were trying to be brave and open and—

God.

Mark groaned, head thudding back against the wall behind him. The drywall cracked a little.

You looked genuinely happy. That was the worst part. You were glowing in that stupid dress. Excited. Nervous. Glorious.

Mark dragged both hands through his hair, muttering a string of absolutely unhinged swears in a language that would’ve made most human ears bleed.

This was fine. Everything was fine. It wasn’t like he wanted to choke slam Kyle into the dugout or anything. It wasn’t like he wanted to fly straight to the stadium and insert himself into the date like some divine act of vengeance.

...Except that was exactly what he wanted.

The thought of you giggling at Kyle’s bad jokes, eating stadium nachos, maybe leaning over the railing to see the field better while Kyle stood behind you?

Absolutely not.

He stood up too fast, moving back and forth across his room. Mark wasn’t pacing. Pacing would imply restlessness. A lack of direction. No, he was strategizing—moving with purpose. And tension. And a very specific, deeply personal vendetta against pastel-colored clothing.

He needed a plan.

He turned abruptly toward the window, peeking through the blinds as he scanned the skyline. There had to be something going on near the stadium. A mission. A security issue. A minor alien invasion. Anything.

He yanked his communicator from his pocket. “Cecil.”

“Mark,” came the voice, dry and staticky. “What did you break now?”

“Nothing. Yet.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “What’s the situation around the city? Any, I dunno… threats?”

“You’re calling in for patrol voluntarily?” Cecil asked, incredulous. “Who are you and what have you done with my least cooperative agent?”

Mark’s eye twitched. “Just answer the question.”

Cecil hummed, clearly suspicious. “Well… now that you mention it, there’s been some unusual energy signatures downtown. Not urgent, but weird enough to keep an eye on.”

Mark’s jaw set. Downtown. Close enough.

“Cool,” he said, already moving to gear up. “I’ll take it.”

“You sure you’re not stalking someone?”

Mark ended the call and zipped into his suit like he was going to war.

Because he was. Emotionally. Spiritually. Possibly physically, if Kyle so much as looked at you too long.

With his boots on and communicator clipped in his ear, he lifted his window and took one single breath.

He took to the sky fast, slicing through the clouds like he had a deadline for destruction. It wasn’t like he knew exactly where you were sitting—he wasn’t that unhinged. Probably. But the stadium was easy enough to find. Loud. Flashy. Crowded. Filled with people in cheap jerseys and overpriced hats.

He hated it already.

Mark landed on a nearby rooftop, crouched low beside an old vent, and surveyed the scene like a total lunatic. His communicator buzzed softly in his ear as Cecil chimed in again.

“Update: the energy spike moved closer to the stadium. You seeing anything?”

Mark narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd like a sniper. “Just civilians. Screaming. Eating corn dogs.”

“Sounds like your natural habitat.” Mark just grimaced.

Below, the crowds roared. Some guy in a mascot costume was doing cartwheels. People were chanting. A wave rippled through one section and died halfway around. None of it mattered. Not when he finally spotted you.

Mark’s jaw locked.

There you were. On the edge of a lower deck, drink in hand, laughing at something Kyle said like it was the funniest thing in the universe. And that dress? It was still on. Which meant your legs were still out. Your collarbones were still out. Your boobs were still out.

Mark was going to die. Not metaphorically. Literally.

He squinted his eyes as if it’d help him see better. He didn’t have a scope, but if he did it would’ve been locked on Kyle’s stupid, boyish face.

Mark muttered under his breath, “Say one more word, Kyle. One more fucking thing I swear to God...”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, fingers flexing at his sides. Control. Focus. This is about surveillance. That’s it. This isn’t about her laugh. Or the way she keeps brushing her hair behind her ear. Or the way Kyle just offered her his hoodie like he wasn’t a certified level-seven threat to national security—

His spiraling thoughts were snapped back into reality as he noticed Kyle make a catch.

A damn fly ball.

It was nothing. No real skill. No flashy move. Just some basic baseball shit. But you—you—reacted like he’d just pulled off a grand slam. Eyes wide, mouth open, practically glowing with excitement, cheering him on like he was some kind of god.

Mark’s blood turned to fire. Seriously? That was what had you so impressed? A fly ball?

His jaw clenched so tight it nearly hurt. He leaned against the edge of the roof, fists white-knuckling the metal as he stared down at you. The thought of Kyle getting that look from you made him want to snap something in half. It didn’t even make sense.

You had no idea what you were doing to him. None.

You were just happy. And that was fine. Great, even. But this? Kyle? No way.

Mark slammed his fist into the side of the building, leaving a small crater. He exhaled sharply, staring at you across the distance, and he suddenly felt like a switch had been flipped.

His muscles tensed, the urge to do something, anything, scratching at the back of his skull. And then, just like that, he was in motion. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the sheer jealousy pumping through his veins, but something told him he had to make his presence known.

He blasted into the sky without a second thought.

Mark didn’t bother to think it through. He didn’t need to. It was instinct. Something primal. He shot over the rooftops as the stadium grew closer, his eyes scanning the crowd for the one person that mattered. You.

And there you were—again, smiling at Kyle, your whole face lit up like you had stars in your eyes. That was it.

He was done.

With a speed that left the world behind, he swooped down to the field, landing with a deafening crash on the pitcher’s mound. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the air buzzing with electricity from the impact.

The crowd went dead silent.

Mark stood tall, eyes locked on you immediately. Your eyes widened when you saw him, your jaw dropping. There was no way you could’ve expected this.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, cutting through the stunned silence of the crowd.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe it, folks! Invincible is here to watch the game! I think he wants to throw out a pitch!”

Mark smirked, his gaze still locked on you, but the moment the announcer’s words echoed through the stadium, he knew it was time to step it up. He didn’t need an excuse. He didn’t need any permission. He was already in control of this situation.

A nervous-looking ball runner, probably no older than sixteen, jogged out toward him, holding a baseball in both hands like it was a fragile piece of glass. His eyes were wide, mouth opening and closing like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

Mark looked at him for a beat, barely suppressing a grin. “Thanks, kid,” he said, taking the ball with a casual flick of his wrist.

The kid nodded, wide-eyed, clearly starstruck. Mark couldn't help but relish it, feeling that familiar rush of power. The kid was impressed—and that was exactly the kind of fuel Mark needed right now. His chest tightened with a sense of superiority, and all his frustration and raw need to one-up everyone around him funneled into that one, cocky throw.

He didn’t even look down at the kid anymore—he was beyond that. He rose up into the air, the stadium below him shrinking away with every foot he gained, until he was hovering just above the roofline. He could feel the eyes on him, the sharp intake of breath from the crowd.

Perfect.

With a flick of his wrist, Mark flung the ball forward like it was a pebble. The motion was so fluid, so natural, it was like he was simply tossing it to a friend across the street—but the speed? The force?

The ball shot off with a bang that could’ve made the sky crack open. It vanished into the distance, disappearing in an instant, so fast and hard that it seemed impossible. The stadium went dead quiet for a split second. Then, as the shockwave from the throw hit, the crowd’s collective gasp filled the air.

Not a single person had time to process what had just happened.

They were too busy watching the empty sky.

Then, as the seconds ticked by and people started whispering among themselves, Mark stayed still, face blank, eyes focused on the horizon. And then, just like that, he moved again—his head tilting slightly to the side, as if hearing a distant sound.

The ball—the one that had just orbited the entire planet—suddenly reappeared, coming right at him at Mach force speeds.

The crowd collectively froze.

Mark barely even looked at it. He raised his hand up, palm open, and without breaking his stance, plucked the ball right out of the air, as though it had simply returned to him like it was nothing more than a boomerang.

The stadium fell into complete silence, like the universe had stopped.

Mark casually tossed the ball in his hand, twirling it around his fingers as he lowered himself down a bit so he was in direct eyeline of the audience. He looked at the crowd, his smirk wide. His eyes locked on you—wide-eyed, mouth open in disbelief—and he winked.

The crowd erupted. Screams. Applause. Whistles. The entire stadium shook with the raw, collective energy of people who had just witnessed something impossible.

Then, without waiting for another reaction, Mark raised his hand in a half-wave and shot back up into the sky.

The stadium didn’t know whether to cheer or faint.

Reader’s POV

Kyle was still wide-eyed, his voice breaking through the noise of the crowd. “Holy shit! I can’t believe Invincible was just here! That was insane!”

You could barely focus on him. The entire stadium still felt like it was vibrating from Mark’s impossibly fast throw, and you were left staring at the spot where he'd disappeared into the sky. Your heart was racing, caught somewhere between awe and confusion. What the hell had just happened? Why had he done that? Was that just a random act of—what, showboating?

You shook your head slightly, trying to shake off the daze. Focus, you’re with Kyle, you reminded yourself. Don’t be weird.

“Yeah, I know right?” You tried to sound excited, jumping in with the hype. “That was... that was totally insane! I mean, who does that?” You laughed, even though your mind kept replaying Mark’s performance, his cocky grin, the way he just owned the entire stadium in seconds. And maybe you were crazy but you could’ve swore that he winked directly at you.

Kyle didn’t notice you drifting off into your own thoughts, still hyped on the high of witnessing something unbelievable. He kept talking about how cool it was, how insane it was to be in the same stadium as a superhero, and you nodded along. But something in the back of your mind was pulling at you. Something felt... off. Why had Mark done that?

You glanced at Kyle, who was still distracted by the crowd’s reactions, and quickly pulled out your phone. You hesitated for just a second, but then typed out three question marks, simple, unassuming, but clearly conveying your sentiment.

You:

???

You hit send, barely holding your breath. A moment later, your phone buzzed with his reply.

Mark: What?

You stared at the message incredulously – what?

You:

What was that?!

Mark: Just a little something to keep the crowd entertained.

You couldn’t help but to grin at his response as you quickly typed back a response.

You: Definitely think you’re a crowd favorite now!

Mark:Always have been.

———————

Part Ten

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#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #mohawk mark x reader #variant mark x reader

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acrosstheujiverse · 3 months ago

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【📂】 summary: wonwoo’s life is upended when his ex, jiyeon, reappears and demands answers to their unresolved past. struggling between his feelings for jiyeon and his commitment to you, he must decide if he can truly move on or if his history with jiyeon will tear apart his future. 【🖇️】 pairing: chef!wonwoo x gn!chef!reader. 【💿】 genre: romance, angst, fluff, based on movie. 【🧺】 tags: established relationship; ex-girlfriend coming back; implied cheating; unconditional love; forgiveness. 【📦】 w/c: *8.3k+

📬 — author’s note！this story is based on the filipino movie “starting over again.” (some lines are taken directly from the movie--so go watch it to have a better understanding). i admired patty’s mature view on love. she is the embodiment of unconditional love.

UPDATED 03/01/‘25*

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wonwoo had never expected it to be this way—heartbroken and alone after his five-year relationship ended so suddenly. his ex-girlfriend, jiyeon, left him without any explanation. no closure, no reasons. just an empty space where their future once seemed so certain. the pain of that loss had been suffocating, leaving him unsure about love for years. but then, you came into his life.

it wasn’t immediate. you started as friends—no expectations, no pressure. but over time, as you cooked together in the kitchen, spent late nights talking about food and life, and shared a small but steady bond, something deeper bloomed between you. slowly, he let his guard down, and before he knew it, he fell for you. six years later, you had built something solid.

during that time, wonwoo knew he was ready to take the next step. he was planning to propose to you. he had no doubts.

but life, as it often does, threw a curveball when jiyeon suddenly returned. seven years had passed since their breakup, but jiyeon was back in his life, and this time, she wanted something. as an architect, she had started working on the renovation of the shared restaurant that you and wonwoo owned, which brought her back into wonwoo's life. what seemed like an innocent project became a difficult reminder of a past that wonwoo thought he had long buried.

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jiyeon’s point of view. internal dialogue.

when i think back to those days, it’s as though i’m remembering a different version of myself—someone who believed in love so deeply that i thought it could last forever. wonwoo and i were young. we were each other’s first love, naïve and full of hope, ready to conquer the world together. we had dreams, and they were intertwined—like our fingers and hearts. it felt so natural, like we were meant to be. i never questioned it.

but somewhere along the way, i started to see changes in him. it was subtle at first—a slight dulling of his once-bright eyes, a lack of spark in his smile. and then it grew. he stopped talking about the things he was passionate about. he didn’t talk about his dreams anymore, or the things that used to excite him. it felt like he was fading—into something that felt too familiar. he became like my father, a man who lost his hopes, his drive, his sense of purpose.

i couldn’t stand it. i tried to hold on, comfort him, and remind him of the person he used to be, but it was like talking to a wall. i didn’t know how to fix it, and i realized i couldn’t save him if he didn’t want to save himself. he wasn’t the boy i fell in love with anymore. he was a shadow, and i was suffocating in the silence between us. i didn’t want to become like my mother, always staying in a place that drained me. i wasn’t ready to be stuck in a life like that, so i left.

i didn’t give him an explanation. i didn’t know how. the words wouldn’t come out, and part of me didn’t want him to hate me for leaving. i didn’t want him to feel like i was abandoning him, but the truth was, i couldn’t watch him spiral any further. i left without a word, hoping he’d understand, but knowing deep down that he wouldn’t. i thought it would be the only way to move on—without looking back.

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but jiyeon couldn’t let go of the past. she couldn’t accept that what they once had was over. every attempt to reach out to wonwoo, every pleading question—“do we still have a chance?” and “do you think our love story deserves a better ending?”—pushed him further into himself. the constant pressure, the relentless pursuit of answers he didn’t have, wore him down.

one night, she cornered him in the restaurant’s quiet, her eyes filled with desperation and yearning. the weight of her words was too much for him to carry anymore. he had tried to move on, but she wouldn’t let him. when jiyeon kissed him, her lips demanding what she refused to give up, something inside him snapped.

“is this what you wanted?” he muttered harshly, his breath ragged, before his hands gripped her and he kissed her back forcefully, the line between love and frustration blurring.

in that charged moment, all the unresolved emotions—love, regret, anger, and longing—took over. what followed was a blur of need and bitterness, both searching for something neither could give: closure. the aftermath was a painful reminder of how far they had fallen.

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the bathroom was eerily quiet, save for the constant hiss of the bathtub faucet, water steadily rising in the porcelain tub. steam filled the air, curling in delicate wisps as it mingled with the coldness of wonwoo’s racing thoughts. he sat on the edge of the tub, hands clasped tightly in front of him, eyes fixed on the running water as if it could cleanse him and wash away the weight of what had just happened.

the sound of his breathing was loud in his ears, the air thick with regret and self-loathing. he could still feel jiyeon’s presence lingering in the space between them—how her touch, and desperation had burned him in ways he wasn’t ready to confront. he knew that things had gone too far. he’d given into something he shouldn’t have, and now everything felt broken beyond repair.

but he couldn't bring himself to face it.

outside the bathroom, the room was quiet. the faint light from the hallway filtered through the crack under the door, casting a soft glow on the darkened bedroom. wonwoo’s phone rested on the nightstand beside the bed, illuminated suddenly by an incoming call.

the screen flashed in the dim room. a contact photo appeared, glowing in the night, but the name—just out of reach, too far for wonwoo to see from the bathroom—flashed in and out of view, its meaning lost on him in his haze.

on the other side of the door, jiyeon stood motionless for a moment. she had heard the phone ring, seen the name. she knew exactly whose photo lit up the screen.

her chest tightened, a slow wave of confusion and sadness washing over her. her eyes lingered on the phone one last time before she turned, her movements slow and deliberate. her footsteps echoed softly in the hallway, the sound growing faint as she left the room.

the air in the bathroom felt heavier as wonwoo remained unaware, lost in his thoughts, the sound of the water still running, the steam fogging the mirrors, as he continued to sit in the quiet. the phone’s glow faded, the call unanswered, as jiyeon quietly slipped out of his life again.

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wonwoo couldn’t escape the image of jiyeon’s eyes—those eyes filled with desperation and longing—her touch lingering on his skin like a ghost. he had given in. he had allowed the past to creep back into his life when he knew better. he had promised himself he was over her, but that kiss had broken something inside of him that he didn’t even know was fragile.

he didn’t know how to fix it, or if it could even be fixed. he had ruined everything. his relationship with you and his future with you was now in jeopardy because of one impulsive moment of weakness.

and now, more than ever, he needed to confess and tell you everything. but how could he? how could he look you in the eyes and explain the mess he had made?

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you had noticed the change in him these past few days. wonwoo had always been quiet, but now he seemed to be hovering around you more than usual. his touch lingered just a little too long when he reached for something or kissed your forehead. his presence felt overwhelming, yet there was something different in the way he was acting—a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place.

at first, you brushed it off, telling yourself it was because you had just returned from a short business trip. it had been only two days, but you could tell that he was clinging to you as if he was afraid of losing you, of something slipping away. you didn’t want to question it too much. after all, he had missed you, and that was understandable.

but there was something in his eyes, the ways he would look at you; there was something almost frantic that made your stomach turn in ways you couldn’t explain.

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you and wonwoo were in the kitchen at your friend's grand opening event, cooking for the occasion.

the kitchen was filled with the usual chaos of preparation—pans sizzling, knives chopping, the soft hum of staff moving around in organized frenzy. but amidst it all, there was a quiet, undeniable shift.

wonwoo had been standing by the counter, his hands working absentmindedly, but his gaze constantly drifted to you, who were busy organizing ingredients. it had been like this for years—your connection, always strong, never needing words. but today, there was an added softness in the air, a shared understanding between you that made everything else disappear.

you glanced up, catching his gaze for a fleeting moment, your lips curving into a small, tender smile. something unspoken passed between you, and in that moment, the entire world seemed to still. without thinking, wonwoo moved toward you, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you, his presence a calm contrast to the busyness of the kitchen.

without a word, he reached for you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. you looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the years you had shared—the struggles, the victories, and the deep, quiet love that had blossomed in your time together. and just like that, he leaned down and kissed you without hesitation.

the kiss was slow, tender, like the comfort of returning home after a long journey. it was a kiss that said everything you’ve never needed to say, anchoring you to the present, to the certainty of your love.

unbeknownst to you, from the corner of the room, through an open door, jiyeon watched. her breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen, her gaze fixed on you two. the warmth of the kitchen, the busy voices of the staff—it all seemed distant now. she could only focus the sight of you and wonwoo sharing such a quiet, intimate moment. her heart twisted, the sharp pang of jealousy gnawing at her chest.

she had thought—no, she had hoped—that seeing wonwoo move on would be easier, and wouldn’t hurt this much. but the reality was crushing. she had walked away from him years ago, without an explanation, without giving him the chance to fight for their relationship. and now, seeing him so utterly content with you—seeing that love between you two—brought back memories she wasn’t ready to confront. she had been the one to walk away from wonwoo, after all. she had been the one who left without giving him any closure. now, seeing him with someone else, it was as though that pain was fresh again.

when the kiss ended, wonwoo pulled away, his face soft with affection. he didn’t notice jiyeon’s presence, nor did he care at that moment. but jiyeon couldn’t bear to watch any longer, so she turned and walked away, her footsteps firm and resolute as she stepped outside, seeking a moment of calm.

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the evening passed, and wonwoo soon returned to your shared restaurant to check on things, leaving you alone in the kitchen to finish the last preparations. you focused on the task at hand—decorating a cake, carefully placing each delicate detail.

jiyeon walked in, her eyes locking onto you with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. she wasn’t here for the event or the food. no, she was here for one thing only—to confront the person who now shared a life with the man she had once loved.

you didn’t look up immediately when jiyeon entered the kitchen. you continued to work as if nothing had changed. but you had known, deep down, that this confrontation was inevitable. jiyeon had been watching you, and she would come for answers.

"i... i loved him first, (y/n)," jiyeon said, her voice barely above a whisper. there was no anger, no confrontation in her words. just the sound of someone holding on to something for too long. "i loved him when he didn’t know what love was. i loved him when he needed someone, and i gave him everything. everything."

you stopped for a moment, looking at her. your expression was steady, but your heart twisted. you felt sympathetic towards her. however, you didn’t respond. instead, you returned to the cake, placing the last finishing touches.

"how sure are you about him, (y/n)? i mean... really," jiyeon’s voice had changed, no longer just soft, but filled with a bitter kind of urgency. "if there’s any doubt in your heart, you need to ask yourself—why hold on? let him go. let him be with the one he truly wants."

you didn’t look at her again, just focused on your task. "are you okay, jiyeon?"

she laughed, but it was hollow. "do you even get it, (y/n)? it’s not about us anymore. it’s about him. if you're not certain about this, don’t make him stay. don't let him settle for something less."

she walked closer, her steps echoing in the silence. "you don’t even realize it, do you? if you let him go now, you could save the both of you from a future of regret. a life of ‘what ifs.’"

you couldn’t stop the pang that shot through you. you turned, your eyes narrowing. "are you sick, jiyeon?"

"come on," she snapped, shaking her head, "stop pretending like we can be nice about this. we both know better than that."

you stared at her, your voice steady but sharp, "and why’s that?"

"because i’m his past," jiyeon said, the words cutting like a knife. "i loved him first. i’ll always own a piece of him that you’ll never have. no matter what."

you pulled back slightly, retreating to the other side of the counter, trying to focus on anything else. but jiyeon wasn’t done. she wasn’t backing down.

"so what, (y/n)? you’re just going to act like it doesn’t matter?" her voice was louder now, more frantic. "don’t tell me you’ve never felt threatened by me. don’t tell me you’ve never wondered if i could still take him back."

her words hit hard, but you stood your ground, meeting her gaze steadily.

jiyeon took a step closer, desperation rising in her voice. "what if you’re just a rebound, huh? what if he’s just settling for you because he couldn’t have me anymore? you don’t think that’s a possibility?"

you met her challenge without flinching, your voice low but firm. "you let go of your chance, jiyeon."

tears welled in her eyes, and she spoke again, voice cracking with emotion. "but i still love him. and he still loves me. please, (y/n). let him go. just set him free."

the words burned. you stared at her, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. you spoke slowly, the quiet pain in your words evident. "shouldn't he be the one telling me this?"

jiyeon’s eyes blazed now, her voice sharp and fierce. "you know him better than that. he’s not the type to hurt anyone on purpose."

your heart ached, but you held firm, shaking your head slightly. "so how sure are you that he loves you more?"

her voice softened, a tinge of sadness in her words. "because i saw it in his eyes. i felt it when he touched me... when he held me... when he kissed me... that kiss... slowly, passionately. a kiss that tells you everything. a kiss that tells you that he feels the same."

your world stopped. for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. "do you mean…?"

"yes, (y/n)," jiyeon whispered, her words like daggers. "more than you think."

a sharp pain shot through you as her words hit. you froze, the air in your lungs thick and suffocating. you blinked quickly, trying to hold back the sting of tears. hearing it from her, so bluntly, felt like a blow to the chest. you tried to push past it, but you couldn’t ignore the tremble in your hands as you set the knife down. "you must have a really lonely life.”

you grabbed a tissue from the counter, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "you know, jiyeon... wonwoo and i... we don’t have that kind of grand, epic love story. ours started quietly. as friends. our love may not be exciting, but it’s sure. it’s steady."

jiyeon’s lips trembled, but she wiped at her face quickly, trying to regain composure.

"you see," you continued, your voice growing steadier, "with the right amount of trust, respect, and room for mistakes... that’s what makes our love what it is."

you took a breath, letting the weight of your words settle for a second, before finally speaking again. "i love him, jiyeon," you said, your voice quieter but unwavering. "and in love, there is no fear. i hope one day you’ll find that, too."

with that, you opened the door and left the kitchen, stepping into the hallway, where the cool air felt like a stark contrast to the tension you’d just left behind. you leaned against the wall momentarily, trying to calm your racing heart, and only then did the tears come. you let them fall freely, the weight of everything finally hitting you.

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before you and wonwoo had become what you were now, there had been a time when things were… uncertain. you could still remember that night so clearly—an evening filled with quiet sadness and unspoken words.

it had been a few weeks since wonwoo had started to pull away. his usual calm demeanor had shifted into something more fragile, like a delicate glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. you hadn’t known the full extent of his pain, not at first, but it was impossible to ignore the weight that seemed to hang around him. he had become quieter, withdrawn, and though he still laughed with you, his eyes no longer held the same spark they once had.

one evening, after closing up the restaurant, you found him sitting alone in the dim light of the back office, his gaze unfocused, staring at nothing. you hadn’t asked him about it right away. it was obvious that something was off, but you knew better than to press him when he wasn’t ready to talk.

instead, you had simply sat beside him in silence. time had passed, minutes or hours, it didn’t matter. the quiet between you was comfortable in a way—it was your way of letting him know that you were there, without needing to fill the space with words.

his eyes were cast downward, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of the chair as though he needed something solid to hold onto. and then, almost like a confession, he finally spoke, his voice raw with emotion.

"i don’t know who i am without her. i don’t even know how to let go."

it took a moment for you to process what he was saying. you had a feeling, but hearing the words—spoken so softly, yet so full of pain—shocked you to your core. wonwoo had never been one to speak of his past openly, especially not the parts that had clearly left scars.

he didn’t look up at you at first, his face twisted with emotion that he couldn’t quite control. you felt helpless, wanting to ease his pain but not knowing how.

and then, finally, his eyes met yours.

his eyes were filled with a vulnerability you had never seen before. "i don’t know how to move on, (y/n). i don’t know how to let go of something that feels like it was supposed to be everything."

your heart broke for him at that moment. you wanted to take away his pain, to make everything okay again, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. sometimes, the things we had to let go of were the hardest to part with.

"i know it’s hard," you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "but you can’t keep living in the past. you deserve to find peace, wonwoo. you deserve to be happy again."

the silence stretched on again, but this time, it was different. it wasn’t filled with sorrow. it was filled with understanding. he didn’t have to speak anymore; the two of you simply existed in the quiet presence of one another, both navigating the complexities of a world that seemed too big to manage alone.

that night, when you said your goodbyes, you left him with a small but genuine smile. you didn’t push him to open up further, but you left him with something more important: the understanding that, no matter how broken he felt, he didn’t have to face it by himself.

though you never pushed him to talk, you knew the weight of unspoken things, the quiet ache of carrying a broken heart. you had known that kind of pain before, in your own way, and you couldn’t let him bear it alone. you stayed close, offering him the space to grieve and process, but also ensuring he knew that he wasn’t isolated in his feelings. every step, every silent moment where he needed someone to just be there—that was what you were offering him.

even if you didn’t fully understand the depth of his connection to his past, you could still empathize with the emotional struggle. you weren’t trying to take the pain away or fill the void left by what he had lost—you were simply offering him the one thing he needed most: the comfort of knowing that, no matter how dark it got, you wouldn’t let him face it alone.

and as the days passed, your presence became a steady anchor for him, slowly helping him find his way back. you didn’t pressure him to let go of his past or tell him to forget; instead, you let him grieve in his own time, providing the kind of support that only someone who truly understood could offer. you knew exactly how he felt because, in your own way, you had felt that kind of emptiness, the feeling of being left behind.

but you never wanted him to face that loneliness alone—just as you had never wanted to face your own.

and somewhere in the depths of his sadness, you had hoped that he would realize, in time, that he could find love again. but for now, you would just be there for him, quietly, patiently—because sometimes, that was all someone needed to start healing.

slowly, over time, you became his safe space, the person he could trust to stand by him, no matter what, through the pain and uncertainty.

that was the bond between you two, built not on grand declarations or sweeping gestures but on the quiet, steadfast presence of someone who understood, who stayed—every single time.

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as you walked outside, still processing the weight of your conversation with jiyeon, you couldn’t shake the feeling of exhaustion that had settled deep in your bones. the confrontation had taken everything from you. you had never been one to lash out or let yourself be consumed by anger, but the weight of jiyeon’s desperation, her need for something that wasn’t hers anymore, left you defeated.

jiyeon, on the other hand, wasn’t ready to let go.

jiyeon couldn't bear the feeling of the weight of her actions pressed on her chest like a suffocating vice.

in a sudden, frantic moment of regret, jiyeon ran after you, her heart racing. "y/n, wait! please!" she called out, grabbing your arm with force, her fingers digging into your skin. "i’m sorry. i never meant to hurt you. i just... i just wanted him back. i was wrong."

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to face jiyeon again. your heart was heavy with compassion for this woman who had been broken by her choices. yet, as much as you wanted to ease her pain, you couldn’t lose sight of your peace.

"you’re not alone, jiyeon," you said, your voice quieter now. "but you can’t drag me down with you. let go."

jiyeon didn’t want to hear it. in a desperate attempt to make you listen, she held on harder, her grip tightening as she clung to you with all her might. the scaffolding above them, already unstable from the ongoing construction, groaned ominously under the weight of their struggle. neither one of you noticed the danger until it was too late.

the next moment, everything collapsed.

the scaffolding gave way with a deafening crash. metal and wood splintered, falling violently around them. the deafening sound of the collapse filled the air, and you and jiyeon were caught in the wreckage.

you screamed as the debris hit you, and pain shot through her body like a wave of fire. jiyeon cried out too, but the chaos drowned her voice. the world spun into a blur of pain and confusion. both of you were pinned beneath the fallen structure, but you had taken the brunt of the impact. blood trickled from your forehead, and your breath came in shallow gasps.

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this wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in a life-or-death situation. you’d learned long ago that in moments of true danger, fear could cripple you if you let it. and you had learned not to let it.

years ago, you had been in a car accident—a wreck so violent that you had only vague memories of the impact. you remembered the screech of tires, the shattering of glass, and everything going dark. when you woke up, it was to the sterile white walls of a hospital room, your body battered, your mind foggy, but your heart somehow still beating.

the doctors had said you were lucky to be alive. but luck, in your experience, was something that often ran out. and so, after that accident, you learned to live with a quiet understanding of life’s fragility. you learned how to stay calm in the face of chaos, to keep your head when everything else around you was falling apart. you had seen the fragility of existence firsthand, making you resilient. the panic, the fear—those emotions were fleeting, useless. what mattered in those moments was action. what mattered was getting through it.

your love for wonwoo, the life you had built with him, and the bond you shared all came rushing to the forefront. this was what you were fighting for.

as you lay there, your body aching, the memory of your past experiences—the accident, the recovery, the time it had taken for you to heal both physically and emotionally—pushed through your foggy thoughts. you knew what it was like to fight for your life, to fight for the ones you loved. this moment, as painful and terrifying as it was, felt like a distant echo compared to that dark chapter.

you had been given a second chance then, and you were determined to make the most of it. that’s why you were here now, still fighting, still holding on—not just for your own sake, but for those you loved.

for wonwoo, for your future.

and even for jiyeon, whose broken heart you wished you could mend.

in the silence of your mind, amidst the wreckage and chaos, you held onto that resolve. you had been through worse—and you would get through this, too.

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wonwoo had barely processed the call when he was rushing through the hospital halls, panic rising with every step. you and jiyeon had been rushed in after an accident during the renovation, but the details were vague. his only concern was you, the person he had loved for six years.

when he arrived at the er (emergency room), his heart stopped. multiple nurses hurriedly pushed two stretchers, one carrying you and the other jiyeon.

jiyeon was closest to him, her face pale, her body bruised.

she stirred slightly, but her eyes fluttered open only for a moment. "i’m sorry," she whispered, her voice weak. "i didn’t mean for this to happen."

wonwoo felt a stab of guilt, but there was no time for lingering. he stood up quickly, turning toward your stretcher. his heart broke when he saw you lying unconscious, your body battered and bruised from the fall. his world narrowed down to you—his thoughts centered on nothing but your safety.

he moved to your side, his hand taking yours tightly. "(y/n)," he whispered, his voice desperate. "please, stay with me."

but you didn’t respond.

as time seemed to stretch, wonwoo stayed by your side, unable to leave. his heart ached with every passing second, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on him. he hadn’t realized how much you had come to mean to him, how much you had become the center of his world.

and now, seeing you like this, so fragile, so vulnerable, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. the thought of losing you was more terrifying than any pain he had ever known.

"please," he whispered, tears threatening to fall. "i can’t lose you."

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the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. you and wonwoo lay in bed, your heads resting against the same pillow, the comforting silence of the space wrapping around you like a blanket. it had been a long, tiring week, but at this moment, lying beside him, everything felt peaceful.

you hadn’t realized how much you needed this—just to be close to him and feel his presence beside you after the chaos of everyday life. the quiet rhythm of his breathing was like a lullaby, grounding you, helping you to unwind.

“you know,” you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “i had a dream last night.”

wonwoo stirred beside you, turning his head toward you with a slight shift of his body. his fingers brushed gently over the back of your hand, an action so familiar it always comforted you. “what about?” he asked, his voice low and sleepy but still attentive.

you took a deep breath before you answered, your gaze shifting toward the ceiling as the memory of the dream replayed in your mind. “it was about you," you said quietly, your voice laced with hesitation. "i dreamed that you… you died.”

wonwoo’s body tensed slightly at the weight of your words. he shifted to face you more fully, concern flickering in his eyes. “really?” his voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to understand why such a dream had come to you.

“i don’t know," you said, shaking your head slightly, your fingers picking at the blanket. "it felt so real. you were gone, and i couldn’t save you. i cried a lot, and it hurt so much, more than anything i’ve ever felt before.”

a quiet pause hung between you both as the weight of your words sank in. for a moment, the room felt heavier, as though the dream had cast a shadow over the both of you. you could feel wonwoo’s gaze on you, but he didn’t immediately speak. instead, his hand found yours under the covers, his touch warm and reassuring, as if silently offering comfort.

“i heard dreams like that symbolize good luck,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, trying to ease the tension. "it's a lucky dream, (y/n)."

you looked at him then, the weight of your dream still lingering, and you sighed. “i guess it’s just the fear of losing you,” you admitted, your voice steady but carrying the underlying vulnerability. “i’ve always known life is fragile. but the thought of losing you… i don’t know, it just scared me so much in that moment.”

wonwoo watched you with a quiet intensity, as if trying to understand the depth of your feelings. he ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, his gaze softening as he spoke. “i’m not going anywhere, (y/n),” he said, his voice calm and filled with warmth. “you don’t have to be afraid of that.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to brush the lingering discomfort away, but his words seemed to settle the weight on your chest. it wasn’t the first time you’d had a fear like this, and knowing he was there, that you didn’t have to face that fear alone, meant everything to you.

after a moment, he let out a small, almost teasing sigh, his lips curling into a faint smile as he spoke again. “thank you. i’m glad i have someone who'll cry when i die.”

you laughed softly at his attempt to lighten the mood, but you could hear the unspoken vulnerability in his voice. it was almost as if he was testing the waters, trying to make light of something he didn’t want to confront.

you turned to face him fully now, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. your thumb brushed over his skin, and your heart ached at how deeply he felt things, even when he tried to hide it behind humor. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked with a quiet smile, your voice tender.

he shrugged, his gaze shifting to the ceiling as he sighed softly. “i don’t know. life just feels… fragile sometimes. you never really know when it’s all going to end, and it’s hard not to think about it.”

you squeezed his hand softly, letting the silence linger for just a moment before responding. “wonwoo,” you said quietly, your voice steady and warm, “i’m not going anywhere. not if i can help it.”

he turned to face you, his eyes searching yours for something, maybe reassurance, maybe comfort, but when he spoke, there was a gentle sincerity in his voice. “you really think so?”

you nodded without hesitation, the certainty in your heart clear. “i do. i don’t care what happens, i’m not going to let you go through anything alone.”

for a long moment, wonwoo didn’t say anything. he simply looked at you, as if processing your words, before his lips finally curled into a soft, genuine smile. slowly, he leaned in and kissed your forehead—gentle, like a promise.

“you’re right,” he murmured, his voice soft with affection. “i wouldn’t want to go through anything without you.”

and in that simple, quiet moment, as you lay there beside him, everything felt right. you both knew life was fragile, uncertain, and full of unknowns, but as long as you had each other, you would face it all together. no matter what came your way, you would hold onto each other, never letting go.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

you woke in a sterile, quiet hospital room, the sound of beeping machines surrounding you. the sharp pain in your side made you wince, and you could feel the weight of the bandages wrapped around you. but when you opened my eyes, you saw him.

wonwoo was sitting beside you, holding my hand. his face was pale, his eyes wide with concern.

you winced faintly, though the pain still lingered. "wonwoo," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he squeezed your hand tighter, the tears finally spilling over. "you’re here. you’re safe."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"i’m sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "i'm sorry. i didn't know how to—"

"my love is greater than your failures, wonwoo, but don’t play with my feelings," you interrupted, your voice hoarse. "be fair. tell me your honest feelings because i can accept whatever your choice may be. if it’s me, then it’s me. if it’s her, then it’s her. but you have to make a choice."

wonwoo’s face contorted with guilt, but before he could say anything, you held up a hand. "i’m not asking for an answer now, wonwoo. i just need you to be honest with me, because i deserve that."

he looked at you, his eyes filled with pain, but you could see something else there, too. a recognition. a quiet realization of how far you've come together, and how much you've built.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

it was a warm summer day, and wonwoo and jiyeon were sitting on a park bench, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows over them. jiyeon’s laughter echoed through the park, carefree and light, but there was a quiet tension beneath the surface of the conversation.

wonwoo was looking at her, his eyes distant, as if he were searching for something in her words. he had never been one to openly share his thoughts, but something had been weighing on him for days.

“ji, why do relationships fail?” wonwoo asked suddenly, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity.

jiyeon turned to him with a bright, innocent smile. she didn’t seem to sense the weight of his question. “huh? why?” she asked, a hint of confusion in her tone.

“my best friend just got dumped by his girlfriend all of a sudden…” wonwoo trailed off, clearly trying to understand the reasons behind it. “they seemed perfect. so... why?”

jiyeon let out a short laugh, brushing her hair back and looking at him like the question was too simple. “oh, well, relationships fail because people get bored, right? or maybe they just don’t have the same level of commitment. you can’t just expect everything to stay the same forever, wonwoo.” she giggled, her voice light and carefree. “people change, things happen. that’s just how it is. nothing lasts forever, you know?”

wonwoo’s gaze softened as he processed her words, but something about her answer didn’t sit right with him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that relationships were more complicated than that—more fragile and nuanced than the simple, childlike reasoning jiyeon seemed to offer.

it was one of those quiet evenings where the world felt at peace—just the two of you. the soft glow of streetlights outside the window illuminated the cozy apartment, casting long shadows on the walls. you were sitting on the couch, your legs tucked underneath you, as wonwoo sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee. it was still early in your relationship, when you were both discovering the rhythms of each other’s lives, learning about each other’s pasts, and figuring out how to fit together in a way that felt right.

the conversation between you both had been lighthearted, filled with laughter and easy moments. but as always with him, there was a certain depth to his quietness, a thoughtful quality that lingered long after the jokes faded. he had been staring out the window for a few moments, deep in thought, when he suddenly turned toward you, catching your attention.

“(y/n),” wonwoo began, his voice softer than usual, as if he was testing the weight of the question in his mind before speaking it aloud. “why do relationships fail?”

you tilted your head slightly, surprised by the abruptness of the question, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes—the kind of quiet uncertainty that made you realize he was asking this more for himself than anything else. he wasn't looking for something flippant or simple.

you thought for a moment before answering. “i think… sometimes people forget how to communicate. they let small things build up until it feels like too much. or maybe they start taking each other for granted.” you paused, giving him a small smile. “i guess sometimes love just isn't enough when people stop trying.”

wonwoo absorbed your words, his gaze soft, contemplative. there was something so genuine in the way he was looking at you, like he was piecing together something important. then, after a beat of silence, he let out a small sigh and looked away, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“yeah,” he said quietly, his voice laced with the slightest trace of a bittersweet understanding. “i guess that makes sense.”

he seemed distant for a moment, as though his mind had drifted to somewhere far away. you could tell there was more behind his words, but you didn’t press him. instead, you reached out, gently nudging his shoulder, a reminder that you were here. "hey, you okay?" you asked, your voice soft, always attuned to the way he closed himself off when something troubled him.

he smiled faintly and nodded, though you could still see that flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "yeah, i’m just thinking."

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

the next day, wonwoo held the flowers carefully in his hands, his steps slow as he approached the door.

wonwoo sat quietly beside jiyeon’s hospital bed, the room dimly lit. the soft beeping of the machines was the only sound that filled the silence between them. he held the bouquet in his hands, almost as if unsure of what to do with them.

jiyeon’s gaze flickered up, her eyes searching for reassurance. "how are they?"

"they're okay... it's just going to take time for them to heal."

her expression softened, a mix of regret and sorrow clouding her features. "i'm really sorry."

his eyes lingered on jiyeon for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice steady but filled with something deeper—something raw.

"i know this might be difficult for you to hear," he said, choosing his words carefully, "but every time i think about everything that happened... i always end up thinking about them. about (y/n)."

jiyeon’s eyes flickered to him, her gaze sharpening slightly, almost as if she was testing his sincerity.

he took a deep breath, his eyes drifting to the floor for a moment. "back then, i thought i had everything with you. i thought we were going to be together forever. but when you left... you left without a word, jiyeon. without any explanation. no reason. it just... happened. and i was left behind, questioning everything. i wanted to hold on, to fight for us, but you just... you walked away."

his voice caught briefly, a painful silence filling the space between them. he swallowed hard, gathering himself before continuing.

"i don’t think i’ve ever told you this before, but when you left, it felt like a part of me died, jiyeon. i was empty. i didn’t know how to move forward. you were the person i thought i’d spend my life with, and you just... vanished. i couldn’t understand it. and for a long time, i carried that weight—wondering if i could have done something differently. wondering if i missed something. but you never gave me the chance to know, and that’s something i’ve had to live with."

wonwoo’s grip tightened around the bouquet, his knuckles whitening.

"but then i met (y/n)," he continued, his voice growing steadier, the weight of his words anchoring him in truth. "and for the first time in a long time, i felt like i wasn’t broken anymore. (y/n) was there when i was at my lowest. they didn’t walk away. they didn’t leave me to figure things out on my own. they helped me rebuild myself—not by telling me everything would be okay, but by showing me how to heal."

he let out a breath, his eyes locked with jiyeon’s now, a fierce, unwavering resolve behind them. "that’s why i’m here now, jiyeon. not because i need closure from you, but because i need you to understand that what we had is gone. when i look at (y/n), i don’t just see a person i’m in love with. i see my future. they're the one i want to grow old with. they're the one who taught me what real love looks like. and now... when i think about losing them? i can’t even begin to imagine it. the thought of losing them—it would feel like dying a second time. i wouldn’t survive that, jiyeon. not after everything we’ve been through together. not after everything they've done for me."

his voice softened, but there was no mistaking the conviction in it.

"(y/n) has become my everything. they're the person who makes me feel like i’m enough, even on my worst days. and i realized something—true love isn’t about clinging to something that’s already fallen apart. it’s about being willing to let go of what doesn’t serve you anymore, and choosing the person who brings out the best in you, who builds with you, who loves you even when you’re at your worst. that person is (y/n)."

he took another deep breath before continuing, his tone quieter now, but resolute. "for that reason, jiyeon, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for how things ended between us, but i’m not going back. i’m not going to turn away from the life i’ve built with them. i’ve made my choice. and that choice is (y/n)."

for a long moment, jiyeon remained silent. the faintest flicker of something—perhaps a trace of regret—passed over her face, but she didn’t say anything. she only looked away, her eyes welling up with tears that she quickly blinked away. maybe she had expected this. maybe part of her had known all along that this day would come.

wonwoo stood up, his legs stiff from sitting so long, and carefully placed the bouquet on the side table. he didn’t look back at jiyeon as he turned to leave the room.

before he reached the door, jiyeon’s voice broke through the quiet, barely audible but filled with emotion. "wonwoo..." she said, trembling slightly. "i... i hope you’re happy with them."

wonwoo paused for a moment, his hand resting on the doorframe. his heart ached for her, but there was no uncertainty in him. he had decided.

"i am," he said quietly, his voice resolute, but with a trace of gentleness. "i really am."

for the first time in a long while, wonwoo realized something that brought him a profound sense of peace: healing wasn’t about forgetting; it was about embracing the scars, the memories, and choosing to love despite them. true love, he understood, was never about perfection. it was about fighting for something worth holding onto, day after day. love wasn’t defined by who loved first or who loved more. it was about the daily decision to choose each other. and as long as that choice was made, nothing else mattered.

with his heart at ease, he stepped into a new chapter, ready to continue writing his story—not as a man defined by the past, but as one who had found his way forward, not by looking back, but by moving on.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

it had been some time since the accident, and you were healing—physically, emotionally, and mentally. the scars left from that day were not just on your body, but deep within your soul. yet, every step of recovery had been made easier with wonwoo by your side. he had never left you. not even when the past had come calling, and not when he was facing the hardest decisions of his life.

life after your hospital discharge was slow, but steady. the quiet days were spent together, learning to rediscover each other without the weight of past regrets hanging over you both. you could see it—the way he looked at you with a newfound softness, the way his actions spoke louder than words ever could. wonwoo had chosen you, and that was all that mattered. there were no more questions, no more lingering doubts.

one morning, as you both sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking about the mundane things in life, you noticed something different. wonwoo was sitting a little taller, his gaze a little steadier.

"you know," he said, almost as if he was speaking to himself, but you knew he wanted you to hear it too. "i never really understood how much of me was tied up in the past... until i met you. until i realized that none of it mattered anymore. not with you in my life."

you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. "i know," you said quietly. "you’ve been through a lot. but you’re not that man anymore, wonwoo. you’ve shown me what love can really be. i’m proud of you."

he smiled back, his hand reaching across the table to find yours. "i’m just trying to be the man you deserve," he said, squeezing your fingers gently. "i’m still learning, but i’m committed to being better for you. every day. i’m not running from the past anymore. i’m not letting it control me. i’m focused on us, on the future."

you felt warmth bloom in your chest, the sincerity in his words something that made you believe in him all over again. this wasn’t just the man who had been lost in a web of unresolved feelings for jiyeon. this was the man who had walked through fire and come out the other side, determined to create something real and lasting with you.

you had both grown together, and the future now seemed like an open road.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

wonwoo was on his knee, looking up at you with eyes full of quiet determination.

"will you marry me?" he asked, his voice steady, yet his eyes shimmered with emotion so raw it left you breathless. his hands, slightly trembling, held out the ring to you as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat, and the world around you seemed to fall away into a serene silence. all that mattered was him—the man who had been your strength, your comfort, your home. the man you had chosen to love, no matter the hurdles life had thrown your way.

"yes." the word came out as a soft whisper, but it carried a weight that filled the room with warmth. overcome with joy, you cupped his face in your hands, searching his eyes for the countless moments of love he'd given you, the depth of everything you'd shared. and then, without hesitation, you kissed him—soft at first, but filled with all the love you had been holding onto. your lips, a promise of forever.

— fin.

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