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igbylicious · 1 day

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whichever way [woosan x reader] pt9

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You visit Wooyoung at work, where one of your ground rules is tested.

wc: 7.7k

ch. warnings: gratuitous Seonghwa cameo, angst, a fight that lasts for like 15 minutes oop, sorta hurt/comfort, non-sexual bondage, dom San, sub Wooyoung, sub reader, rope space, mentions of past arophobia and amatonormativity

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: there is no smut bc i split this chapter up for length — but the next update will make up for that, promise!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

a/n³: in-fic time, less than a day has passed between the end of chapter 7 and the start of chapter 9. this feels worth mentioning, considering what happens in this one lol

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

The florist shop where Wooyoung works has a colourful and refreshing showroom, filled with creative flower arrangements, lush potted plants and idyllic garden ornaments. Sweet fragrances permeate the air, bright sunlight comes in from the large storefront windows.

The place is small and packed tight, greenery within arms’ reach wherever you stand; but organised and clean enough that it does not overwhelm the eye. And your vantage point by the counter gives you a nice overview of the store, including its two employees currently at work — but right now, they’re not exactly busy with selling flowers.

“Just relax, hyung!” Wooyoung says, exasperated, waving a hand at his friend and coworker. “Look natural!”

He has a camera pointed at Park Seonghwa; an absolute sweetheart and strong contender for the title of ‘most attractive person you have ever met’.

(A title that Wooyoung and San and literally every single one of their friends are in the running for. You’re still not convinced they didn’t hire their entire social life from a modelling agency.)

You watch them with amused interest. You’ve only met Seonghwa twice before, but he had enthusiastically greeted you when you entered the shop earlier. Now all that bright friendliness has faded, replaced by a stiff smile that’s stretched uncomfortably across his face.

“I don’t look natural?” he asks, nervous in his role as a model. “Why do you need me anyway, isn’t all this for the webshop? Why aren’t you taking photos of the displays?”

Wooyoung sighs impatiently, shaking his head at Seonghwa’s obliviousness. “Are you kidding me? The internet is gonna eat your face up. This is going on all the socials, hyung, we’re going for a viral sensation here! Viral! Now go stand next to those hibiscus and look pretty, alright?”

While Seonghwa moves around the store for a good spot, Wooyoung shakes his head and gives you a pointed look.

“Can you believe this? Man has a phone bursting with selfies and now he gets camera shy? I really thought this’d be a cake-walk.”

You giggle at Wooyoung’s mumbled grousing, and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You never actually planned to visit Wooyoung at work today, but after last night activities, you’d been overtaken by an unshakable urge to check in on him.

He’d been yours to take care of, bound and blindfolded, and you can’t shake off an oddly protective feeling, like he is still yours to take care of even now. (San also always insists on dropping by at your place after an intense scene. You always poked fun at his overprotectiveness, but now you understand his chivalrous instincts a little better.)

There really was no need for you to worry; Wooyoung is energetic and upbeat, firing off jokes at Seonghwa in an attempt to relax him.

“What if I pretend to be a customer? Just to set the scene, distract him from the camera,” you suggest to Wooyoung. “But no pictures of me!” you add quickly. “I don’t need to be on this place’s instagram or whatever, alright?”

Wooyoung perks up at your offer. “Yeah, that could work! Come, hyung, pretend it’s just another day on the job.”

He ushers you to join Seonghwa between the colourful dahlias and asters, where you exaggeratedly clear your throat and roll your shoulders, readying yourself for your acting performance.

“Okay, so help me out here,” you tell Seonghwa, overly serious. “Let’s say I want to give my neighbour some flowers. What type of bouquet would I need to communicate my sympathies because his boyfriend never stops bullying him?”

“Oi!” Wooyoung protests, but he has to bite down a laugh to keep his camera steady. “Hwa, maybe you should put together something for a poor guy whose boyfriend’s neighbour keeps bullying him!”

But Seonghwa lets out an adorable giggle, and his smile relaxes now you’ve put him onto a task — no matter how silly the task is. “Well, edelweiss are often associated with courage, that seems appropriate here, right?” he says, meandering through the store. “Or what about some red camellia? Means ‘to persist with grace’ in hanakotoba.”

“San does show remarkable grace throughout his many struggles,” you agree solemnly.

“Same can’t be said about you,” Wooyoung retaliates with a grin.

You stick out your tongue at him, very much proving his point. But then you quietly hang back while Seonghwa enthusiastically digs into the particulars to fulfil your fake request. Your distraction works exactly as intended; now that he has relaxed, his natural sweetness gets a chance to shine on camera.

Seonghwa continues babbling about flower language at you, until the photo-shoot is put on hold when a soft bell chimes through the store. The door opens, and an actual customer steps inside.

Seonghwa helps the distraught-looking young man, who seems to have made some disastrous choices in his relationship — but you don’t listen in on their conversation for too long. Instead, you and Wooyoung reconvene at the counter.

He takes you through his haul of photos, badgering you for feedback. Your lack of expertise never seems to stop Wooyoung from valuing your opinion, always eager to hear what you have to say. So you point out the photos you like best, and happily let him use you as a soundboard.

He nods thoughtfully when you admit to liking the photos where Seonghwa is still just slightly nervous; there is endearing about his tentative smile, making his beauty approachable rather than intimidating. “Maybe you could a few from that side of the store too?” you suggest, gesturing to an area to the side. “The succulent arrangements there are really cute.”

“Oh, good idea!” His eyes flicker over the displays, and already you can see the gears in his head turning, working out the best angles and observing how the natural light falls.

“Do you want me to take over the camera for a bit?” you ask.

“You? Why?”

You shrug, idly looking through more of the photographs. “You said you wanted a viral sensation, right? Getting some shots of you definitely won’t hurt.”

“Are you saying I look sexy?” Wooyoung grins as he leans on the counter, running a deliberate hand through his hair.

“No, that’s what you’re saying. I never used that word,” you tease him. “…But yeah. You look pretty sexy.”

You see no point in lying. There’s something unreasonably appealing about Wooyoung in a dark green apron, fitted around his slim waist; especially combined with a simple off-white shirt, rolled up to his elbows to show off his veiny forearms. He has his hair partially tied back into a half ponytail, the loose strands falling attractively into his face.

Wooyoung lets out a pleased giggle, bumping his shoulder into you and sticking close. His fingers reach to play against your wrist, tapping and drawing circles on your skin. He’s been acting especially clingy today, making you wonder if he also feels the remnants of yesterday’s scene just like you are.

Either way, you don’t give too much thought to his touchy-feely mood, until you keep looking through the photos — and see yourself back on the screen.

“Woo, didn’t I tell you? Not me!” you complain, whapping him on the arm, but it’s hard not to be struck by the picture; the way he has caught your face in the sunlight, your eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as you play customer for Seonghwa. Wooyoung has always had an uncanny ability to capture your happiness in his photos, bringing your inner joy to the surface. Sometimes the intensity of your own expression catches you off guard, making you wonder if your smile ever used to be that wide before.

Wooyoung pats your shoulder reassuringly, holding you into a half-hug. “This photo isn’t for the socials; it’s for me,” he grins and leans in, his lips suddenly pressed against your skin for a firm peck on the cheek.

You freeze instantly.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, but then his memory kicks in. “Ahh right, sorry sorry! No kissing when we’re not— Yep, got it.”

“Yeah,” you say awkwardly. It’s fine, you tell yourself. Wooyoung forgot a boundary, he corrected himself; that’s all. Drop it and move on.

But Wooyoung, caught up in his playful mood, is not dropping it. He tilts his head, his eyes curved with a happy smile of mischievous curiosity. “So really, not just on the lips, no kisses at all? Any room to haggle out a deal? How about… on the top of your head?” he teases, pretending to move in. “Or the tip of your nose?”

Wooyoung keeps feigning more attempts at a kiss, treating the line drawn by your ground rule like a tightrope, balancing right across and threatening to topple over.

And there is no safety net underneath, not for you.

Your good mood shrinks away as Wooyoung happily jokes around, a tightness freezing you up. “No, no don’t,” you say, stiffly pressing a hand against Wooyoung’s shoulder to push him back. “Don’t fool around, Woo. Not this time.”

A strange mix of guilt and discomfort tangles sharply around your chest. Discomfort at Wooyoung’s flippant reaction to your boundary, guilt for having a boundary against one of his preferred displays of affection in the first place.

Wooyoung sobers up when he sees how badly he misjudged the situation. “Hey, sorry alright?” he says, raising his hands in apology. “I didn’t realise it was a big deal.”

In a way, you agree. The kiss itself didn’t need to be a big deal, not if Wooyoung had just let you shrug it off.

But either way, it is part of a big deal.

Once again, you hear the clock in your head, ticking away until the end of your arrangement with San and Wooyoung. Right now, it’s louder than ever.

Most days you just try to enjoy the moment, and avoid thinking too much about it. Now the full weight threatens to come crashing down on you, right in the middle of the flower shop.

Usually you imagine it ending by a slow drifting of interest; a gradual, undefined shift where you fade into the background noise of each others’ lives. Still friends, hopefully, but no longer closely entangled the way you are now.

But the kiss is a blunt reminder that things can also shift in a different direction; San or Wooyoung might grow to want things, feelings, that you cannot offer them. You are happy with the way things are now — but how long before they aren’t? What if this one small stupid kiss is the first of many clashes? What if this is the first sign of some inherent incompatibility between their needs and yours?

What if they ever decide that what you can give them isn’t enough?

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you stay stiffly, trying to keep the tight spool of emotions contained.

Hurt flashes across Wooyoung’s face at your obvious attempt to brush him off. “I’m worrying about it a little,” he says, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “You know I didn’t—”

But Wooyoung swallows down the rest of his words when Seonghwa joins him behind the counter with an armful of flowers for the customer. Wooyoung magics on his friendliest smile, amicably chatting away with the distressed young man while Seonghwa deftly assembles a beautiful arrangement of soft rosy and lavender hues.

Together they comfort their upset customer, assuring him his girlfriend will love these, though you know they’ll be like two gossiping aunties the moment this poor guy leaves the store.

You try to relax during the wait, but suddenly the store’s sweet floral aroma is cloying to the senses, threatening you with a headache.

You just want to get out, take a few deep breaths of fresh air, and ease down your discomfort without Wooyoung constantly casting glances at you. His bright customer service smile hides most of his true expression, but there is definitely a worry in his eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about the earlier hurt on his face.

The customer leaves with his flowers and a soft jingle of the door chime, and Seonghwa turns to Wooyoung.

“How about we do a video too? Talk the boss into making a tiktok account for the store?” Seonghwa suggests, his nerves fully flipped over into excitement now that he’s gotten comfortable with the camera. In his enthusiasm, he clocks a beat too late that something is off with his coworker. “Uh, Wooyoung? Everything alright?”

“Not sure,” Wooyoung says, lines drawn on his brow as he looks at you. “Are we alright?”

“Yeah, I just— I’m gonna head back, see you later, okay?” you say, the headache no longer just a threat.

Wooyoung’s worry falls away from his face to make way for disbelief, and an annoyance prickles to life as you try to brush him off — again. “Wait, are you serious? C’mon, it’s only like five minutes ‘til closing time, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t be like that.”

Unsure, Seonghwa looks between you and Wooyoung. “Hey, why don’t you just leave early, Wooyo?” he offers. “It’s pretty quiet today, I got this. My turn to close up shop anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wooyoung hesitates, but gives in when Seonghwa gives him a friendly nudge. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. I owe you one, Hwa.”

The way back to the apartment building is quite possibly the most awkward that things have ever been between you and Wooyoung — which is saying something, considering the whole ‘you walking in on him and San having sex’-thing that kicked all of this off in the first place.

Neither of you bring up what just happened, honouring an unspoken agreement to wait until you’re back home. There are a few stilted attempts at smalltalk, like you and Wooyoung are both trying to keep some thin thread of connection alive; but there is mostly just silence.

Wooyoung quietly trudges next to you with his face drawn, hands stuffed in his pockets, and plenty of thoughts on his mind. (You can’t help but wonder; how many of those are second thoughts?)

It’s a painful contrast with how affectionately clingy he was before, but thankfully the apartment building is just one quick subway stop away, and then it is only an elevator ride up to the top floor. You follow Wooyoung into San’s place without really thinking about it, like that’s just where you are supposed to be.

Inside, Wooyoung shucks off his shoes and barely waits for you to follow him into the living room. “Okay, we’re home, can we talk now?” he says, looking back at you with a tight expression on his face. “Cause that back there? That wasn’t cool.”

San, who had been hanging out on the couch, puts down his phone and blinks in surprise at the heavy tension that just walked into his apartment. “What wasn’t cool?”

“It’s not—” you start, but Wooyoung bluntly interrupts you.

“I kissed her.”

“Wait, you what?” San says, now outright startled.

“On the cheek,” Wooyoung explains, then crosses his arms as he turns back to you. “And no, I shouldn’t have — but when you tried to ditch me like that? That wasn’t cool either.”

His frustration is contagious, and you feel yourself responding in kind. “You know what else isn’t cool? You doubling down on the whole thing and making a laugh of it instead of just backing off,” you bite at Wooyoung.

Anger blooms inside you; anger that has very little to do with that stupid kiss on the cheek.

Every time you have to remind him or San of a boundary, it feels like you are speeding up the clock on this relationship, rushing closer towards the end. And you can’t help but resent Wooyoung for making you do it twice.

“You think I like telling you no? I don’t!” you snap, the frustration now burning behind your eyes. “Whenever I gotta push back against something, I feel like I’m pushing you away. I don’t want that! I don’t want to push you away, so just— Stop making me!”

“Make you?” Wooyoung snaps back. “I didn’t make you do anything yesterday. You started on that whole ‘we can still be friends after we stop having sex’ business all on your own, and that felt like a pretty big shove to me.”

Poor San looks completely out of his depth, uncertain as he glances back-and-forth between arguments, but his eyes widen at Wooyoung’s words. “Wait, you want to stop this?” he asks, staring at you in shock.

“No, of course I don’t!” you say, flustered that San’s takeaway is the exact same as Wooyoung’s had been. “Why do you guys keep asking that?!”

“Because you’re the one who brought it up!” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes at you.

Your mouth opens, then closes again. Shit. That’s… actually a good point. “Not because I want us to stop,” you say, your heated anger slowly cooling down to brittle embarrassment, “I’m just…”

“Wait, hang on, hang on,” San says, finally willing himself into motion.

Carefully, he takes your and Wooyoung’s hands, then leads you to sit on the couch with him in the middle. He doesn’t let go of your hands.

“So let me get this straight. You” — he looks pointedly at Wooyoung — “are upset because you don’t want her to push us away. And you” — he turns to look at you — “are upset because you also don’t want to push us away? So what the hell am I missing here? Aren’t you on the same page? Can we please maybe entertain the idea that you guys aren’t actually mad at each other!”

Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to cool down, the frustration seeping out of his shoulders. He sighs, something releasing in his breath, then meets your eyes with a tentative grimace.

“I’m not mad at you,” he admits awkwardly. (San lets out a sigh of relief.) “What you said yesterday… maybe it shook me up a bit more than I realised.”

You mirror his grimace, struggling to meet his eyes. “I’m not mad either,” you say, equally awkward. “Sorry, I didn’t really think about how that question could sound to you. I was just looking for reassurance, I swear.”

San squeezes his hand around yours, daring a cautious little smile now the thorn has been taken out of this conversation. “Reassurance for what?”

“Just what I said,” you say with a rueful laugh, unsure how to explain better. “That we’ll still be friends even after things between us change.”

Wooyoung makes a noise of exasperation.

“No but see, that kinda pisses me off,” he says, getting worked up again. “Listen, I get what you were saying, that we don’t know what will happen in the future. But why are you so convinced we’re stopping this any time soon? Sure, we don’t know if it will go on forever, but isn’t that the same for anything? Hell, who can even say if San and I won’t ever break up either?”

“Um, I can?!” San interjects, giving Wooyoung a distressed look.

“I didn’t— Sannie, I’m not saying we will!” Wooyoung says, interrupting his own vehement monologue with a fond laugh, patting at San’s hair. “I just mean you never know! But bringing up stuff like ‘after’ and staying friends…” Wooyoung looks at you with a faded smile. “It made me feel like you got one foot out the door already.”

His words sink in slowly… and for the second time today, you’re forced to admit that Wooyoung sure is making a good point.

(And despite everything, you can’t help but feel a small burst of happiness at Wooyoung’s complete distaste at the thought of ending your arrangement.)

“Maybe… yeah. Maybe I do have a foot out,” you say wryly. “Past experiences have turned me into a bit of a pessimist, I guess. But if they taught me anything, it’s that whenever I got something more involved going on, one of two things always happens. Usually, the whole thing just… dissolves. Not always on purpose, but it does. We’re having fun, but then the fun wears off or it isn’t convenient anymore or something else comes along that’s simply more important.”

“You’re important to us,” Wooyoung protests, sulking.

“Yeah, well. I’m important to Hongjoong too. He still left,” you say sharply, and for the first time, you allow yourself some bitterness in that truth. (Obviously you would have told him to go, had he asked. He never asked. And really, what right did you have to expect him to? You are ‘just’ friends, after all. But fuck, it hurts.)

Wooyoung flinches back, blinking in surprise at your tone, and a fresh wave of guilt bubbles up inside you. You hate it. Why, even in the privacy of your own mind, do you feel guilty for not wanting to be put in second or third or last place for once?

You sigh, reaching across San’s lap to rest a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh. “Sorry Woo, that wasn’t fair,” you say, not thinking too much on if that’s true or not. Right now, you’re tired and just want to smooth things over, not set off another argument.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung mumbles; and for a moment you worry that it is not fine at all. He stands up, shoulders low from fatigue as he stares at the floor — but then he grabs your hand without even meeting your eyes and pulls you up on your feet, right into a hug.

His grip on you is so tight it knocks the breath of out of you. One of his hands finds the space between your shoulder blades, fingers clinging at the fabric of your shirt, while the other cups the back of your head, drawing you even closer into his warmth.

You can’t see his face, burrowed against your shoulder, but you think you can hear a muffled “you couldn’t push me away if you tried”. A cautious smile curves around your lips, and you gently return his hug, carding your fingers through his dark hair.

It only takes a moment for another set of arms to join the fray, and you let out a soft ‘oof’ as the full strength of San wraps around you and Wooyoung, his firm body pressing into yours.

“You guys scared me,” he pouts, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me? Are we all good now?”

You free up an arm to clutch at San’s shoulder; still a bit unsteady but reassured by their dual presences. “Better, definitely,” you allow with a soft smile.

Wooyoung lifts his head up. There is no anger in his face, but the furrow of his brow still hasn’t relaxed. “We are good,” he mumbles. “I still feel kinda shitty. I know I fool around a lot, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun. Never meant to actually upset you.”

“I know,” you say, gently brushing through his hair. “It’s okay. Sorry I tried to shut you out.”

San looks from you to Wooyoung, gears turning behind his eyes as he sees you’re both not fully at peace yet. “Let’s take it easy tonight, alright?” he says with an encouraging smile. “You two go freshen up or take a nap or something, I’ll order some food, and after that we’ll make sure everyone gets all nice and relaxed. I may know just the thing.”

A ping of curiosity goes off at San’s last words, but you know asking won’t be any use; he likes to keep his surprises. “Thanks, San,” you smile back, “and thanks for snapping us out of it.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta be the sensible one around here,” he grins — and lets out a tiny, cute yelp when Wooyoung lovingly bites his shoulder.

“You think you’re the sensible one?” Wooyoung says in teasing disbelief, right back to his menacing ways.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Yeah, I’m with Woo on this one,” you say. “Sense? San, you bark at Byeol.”

San makes an offended noise. “Byeol grew up around pups, she doesn’t speak cat!” he defends himself, endearingly earnest.

“Ah yes, perfectly sensible,” Wooyoung drawls, exchanging a grin with you; and as your eyes meet, you know that things will be alright between you.

San tries to glare at you and Wooyoung, a look that is completely neutralised by the pout on his lips. “You two really want to piss off the guy who’s about to buy you dinner? That a road you want to go down?” he threatens, but there’s a poorly hidden, happy gleam in his eyes.

Wooyoung throws his arms around San, pressing an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “Love you, babe!”

You hug San with equal enthusiasm, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Thank you, food daddy!”

“‘Food daddy’?!” San gives you a startled look but quickly sighs in defeat, patting you and Wooyoung on the head. “Fine, fine. Go take a shower or something and I’ll handle it.”

A long shower and a hot meal later, you find yourself in the familiar space of San’s bedroom; the white walls contrasted by dark sheets and curtains, with their the monochrome artwork of vast mountains and woodlands. A place you’ve come to associate with safety and pleasure; a place that eases the tension in your body just by breathing the air between these four walls.

Soft music drifts through the background; one of San’s easy listening playlists, relaxed and unobtrusive, and he even took the time to light a subtly scented candle. The atmosphere is quietly intimate, but also distinctly chaste, with none of the usual heat.

You are kneeled down on the bed, doing some light shoulder stretches to warm your body up, comfy in a basic sports bra and a pair of sleeping shorts. Wooyoung is dressed in a shirt and baggy boxers — and adorned by lines of rope stretched across his chest, already halfway into a box-tie. He submits to San’s work with a languid smile, slowly letting the outside world slip away.

“Of course your ‘thing’ would involve rope,” you tease San, then sigh in bliss at a particularly satisfying stretch. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Hey, if it works, it works,” San says with a wink. “Besides, you sure were eager enough when I pitched the idea.”

To literally tie you and Wooyoung together? A little on the nose, perhaps, but god San had looked so cute when he suggested it, so proud of himself for his ingenious plan, and you’d hardly object to such a thing anyway.

You realised long ago that bondage is a bit of a favourite between San and Wooyoung, and they are no strangers to non-sexual forms of rope play either. Both for the intimacy and calming benefits of the act itself, and to test out complex ties or positions in a low intensity environment.

San finishes the box tie on Wooyoung, securely cinching both his arms and wrists, ropes crisscrossed prettily across his chest. Already you can see the shift on Wooyoung’s face; in the right mood, rope is one of the few things that truly slows him down, its soothing effect reaching all the way into his very core.

“Everything good?” San asks, his voice like velvet while he checks the knots. “That’s it, slow your breathing,” he hums, raising and lowering a hand in time with Wooyoung’s breath, guiding him deeper into an almost trance-like state. “Focus on the smell of the candle, how the rope feels against your skin, holding you in. Nothing in the world except the three of us in this room.”

He tenderly cups Wooyoung’s cheek for a soft kiss, lingering close as their foreheads touch.

“I’m right here, I’ll be right next to you,” San whispers. “Just keep your eyes on me, alright?”

You smile softly at San’s reassurance. Even when he is forced to divide his attention between two subs, San always finds small ways to stay connected, especially when one of you is in a vulnerable state.

Wooyoung briefly rubs his nose against San’s, then lets him go with a content sigh. A familiar warmth spreads in your chest at being the witness to their intimacy, their willingness to share unguarded moments of delicate happiness.

Then San turns to you, and treats you to a moment of delicate happiness of your own with a light brush of his knuckles across your cheek. “You ready?” he asks with a small grin, looking far more relaxed himself too. Like the act of tying up Wooyoung unwound something inside him as well.

You nod, filled with gentle anticipation. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then let’s get started,” he says, holding up a piece of rope with a playful spark in his eyes.

You settle down while San goes to work, a feeling of serenity washing over you with the knowledge you are in safe hands. He is as meticulous as always, an easy rhythm to his movement, like the cords are an extension of his body, wrapping himself around you.

San’s slightly calloused fingertips brush against your sports bra and against bare skin. Even with zero intent on arousal, there is a sensuality to the way his hands move over your body, leaving a trail of rope that are not unlike his fingertips; slightly coarse but still soft. There is no restraining element to your decorative harness, but it feels secure around you, grounding your senses. With every cord San lays across your chest, he reduces the world further down to just this place, this moment; no thoughts, no worries, no conflict.

You glance at Wooyoung to find him watching you with a slow, dopey smile, all his earlier tension evaporated. His smile widens when he notices you looking, and your own lips curve up in response.

The diamond chest harness snugly hugs your breasts, and you feel the odd urge to preen, filled with a surge of confidence at how they accentuate the soft curves of your body. You arch your back just lightly, and Wooyoung bites his lip with a breathy laugh; he will always respect the need to show off.

“Looks nice,” he says, slightly raspy from the effort to summon his voice.

“Back at you,” you hum, casting an admiring glance at Wooyoung’s body and the ropework. “San did well.”

San strokes the back of your head, and gives the nape of your neck a small, appreciate squeeze at your compliment. “Ready for the next part?” he asks, looking from you to Wooyoung with a quiet intensity in his eyes, fully absorbed in his role of caretaker.

Once he is sure you are both still comfortable and in a good mind-space, San helps you down on the bed, on your side with one arm outstretched in wait. Then he helps Wooyoung to lay next to you, your arms neatly wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist as you scoot close, until your chests are pressed up against each other.

Wooyoung gives you a half-grin, his trance-like slumber disturbed by the change in position. He is close, so incredibly close that you can see even the faintest blemishes on his skin, tiny faded scars and small traces of acne. There is something mesmeric about them, grounding you deeper into the reality of the moment, the reality of him.

“Yeah, I like this,” Wooyoung sighs, wiggling closer while San ties up your wrists behind Wooyoung’s back, trapping you together.

“Good,” San says, his eyes curving as he finishes the last knot and looks up at you. “How about you? Still comfortable?”

More than comfortable; small jolts of excitement are firing off inside your veins at Wooyoung’s proximity, but you take a few slow breaths, guiding yourself back into the easy-going atmosphere. “Very,” you joke, squeezing your arms around Wooyoung. “As far as methods of conflict resolution go, this is definitely a new favourite.”

“See? Told you it was a good idea.” San grins at you, grabbing another length of rope; his work is not done yet. He starts on Wooyoung’s ankles, whose expression has gone thoughtful at your comment.

Tied up the way you are, there is no escaping Wooyoung’s pensive gaze — but you don’t try to, meeting his eyes while he is brought into an even deeper state of constraint. He slowly blinks at you, pupils dilated in the dim light of the room.

“What was the other way?” he asks.

“‘Other way’?” you frown, trying to work out what Wooyoung is talking about.

“You said that whenever you’re involved in this type of situation, there are two ways for it to end,” Wooyoung says, still looking at you intently. “You never told us the second one.”

San perks up in curiosity at the question.

Ah shit. You groan, reflexively trying to hide your face in your hands — but they are securely locked behind Wooyoung’s back, so all you do is pull him in closer into the soft cushion of your chest. He is happy to let you, the ropes of your harnesses pressing into each other.

“Wait, is it embarrassing?” he asks, almost a little too eager; Wooyoung loves embarrassing stories.

“Not— not exactly,” you quickly disillusion him. “I told you it usually ends because interest fades, right? Well, the other way is… the opposite, pretty much.”

“Too much interest?” San asks, his hand now on your ankle, nudging you to bend your knee and hook your leg over Wooyoung’s.

You breathe out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah that’s spot on, actually,” you say, following San’s guiding touch. Your hips neatly line up with Wooyoung’s, and San starts to anchor you together. “Last person that I had a friends with benefits type of deal with, he… Well, he started to have some romantic ideas about me, about our deal. When I couldn’t feel the same way about him, he made it real damn clear he took that personally. Blamed me for wasting his time. Now… Now I don’t know if we ever really were friends at all.”

Saying it out loud hurts more than you expected, a painful reminder of how he’d seen your friendship as nothing more than a stepping stone.

You had genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company, but none of your time together had any intrinsic value to him except as a prelude to romance. Didn’t matter that you’d been upfront from the start; he’d still convinced himself that his feelings for you would magically change yours, like he was the one person who’d finally ‘fix’ you. His word, not yours — and that had hurt the most of all, threatening to undo all the work you’d done to teach yourself you were not broken in the first place.

Frustratingly, sudden tears burn behind your eyes. It is the vulnerability of the bondage, you tell yourself. It is because you are tired. It’s definitely not because of some asshole who’s not worth a single spare thought. Dammit, you can’t even wipe your face right now, forced to try and push back your tears through sheer willpower.

Wooyoung scoffs loudly, breaking your concentration.

“What a fucking asshole,” he says, shaking his head. He tries to grab onto your hands, still tied behind his back, but the best he can manage from this position is for his fingers to graze against your wrist. “His loss, if he thinks any time spent with you is a waste.”

“Agreed,” San says, squeezing your knee. The ropework around your leg is half-finished and forgotten. “The friendzone is criminally underrated, if you ask me,” he says, and somehow he manages to be joking and completely earnest all at once. “And our zone? Some cool hot gal lets me be her friend, and she’ll let me smash? I fail to see the problem.”

You hiccup a laugh, tears shaking loose from your lashes. “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I’m a damn platonic catch!”

“Damn straight you are!” San grins, his hand warm and reassuring on your leg.

Wooyoung still looks intensely at you, his eyes flickering across your face, tracing your tears. Briefly, the thought strikes you that he wants to kiss you.

Right now, with your bodies trapped together, there is very little you actually could do to stop Wooyoung from kissing you again — but you do not panic when he leans in, filled with absolute trust. A trust that Wooyoung proves himself to be deserving of when he just clumsily brushes his nose against your cheek, an awkward attempt at wiping your tears.

You start to giggle when you realise what he’s doing, and Wooyoung joins in when he realises how futile and ill-conceived his efforts are. “San? A little help here?” he laughs, leaning back to his original position. He shakes his head at his own silly impulse, his bright smile even more beautiful and contagious from so close-by.

San does not hesitate, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand before he lays down behind you, leaning over to properly wipe your face. He does not return to his ropework, opting to stay close for a proper cuddle. His cheek presses against your shoulder, an arm slung heavily across your waist so his hand rests on Wooyoung’s hip.

“Just, for the record,” San says, his voice so close to your ear it raises goosebumps, “all jokes aside, I really am happy with how we are now.”

You manage to turn your head just enough to give San a grateful look, gently bumping your forehead against his. “Me too,” you say, and hesitate for only a moment to say more. “You… you guys do know I care about you, right? Like, a lot.”

“We do,” he smiles, dimples and all, while Wooyoung tries to squeeze his hands around yours again.

“But sometimes that only makes more difficult, to try and figure out how to navigate all this,” you say, grimacing again. “Even now? Right now? Some tiny part of me is worried that I gave off the wrong signal by saying that. It’s like I’m trapped in some weird split, and I’ll either push you away or lead you on, even by accident.”

Wooyoung chuckles dryly. “You get stuck in your head a lot, don’t you,” he observes almost conversationally.

“…Yeah,” you admit with a chuckle of your own.

“You know,” San says gently, “it’s not like I never thought about this kind of stuff either. Where it’s going, when you might break things off. Maybe I should’ve brought it up myself, I don’t know. Maybe I was worried where that conversation might go.”

Wooyoung blinks in surprise. “Wait, you also thought we might stop having sex anytime soon?”

“…You really never considered that??”

“Not until yesterday! Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I just—” San shrugs, a little helpless. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

(It is an odd thought; all this time, you wondered how much time you’d have before San and Wooyoung inevitably moved on, while San wondered the very same thing about you.)

Wooyoung’s frown returns, and he shifts a little against his restraints. “Hey, you know I don’t like it when you don’t talk about what’s bugging you. Even if the thing bugging you isn’t me.”

The last part is light-hearted, but you can still sense his concern, a history of past conversations in his voice.

It is a new side they are showing to you; allowing you to witness not only the intimacy of their happiness, but the intimacy of their disputes as well. Somehow it’s both uncomfortable and a comfort at once; you are literally trapped between them, but there is something revealing about this kind of vulnerability, their willingness to let you into their lives. The pretty and the unpretty parts of it.

“I— Yeah no, you’re right. I should’ve,” San says quietly, reaching to brush his fingers across Wooyoung’s cheek. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, but there is a budding grin on his lips. “Seriously, this all would’ve been sorted out so fast if either of you just talked to me about it. Idiots.”

“I did talk to you!” you splutter in protest.

“Yeah and here we are, not twenty-four hours later! Case closed!”

(Damn, he really won’t stop making great points today.)

“No, not ‘case closed’,” San says, huffing a laugh. “That’s what I was trying to talk about!” His face goes a little softer, leaning over your shoulder just enough so he can make proper eye-contact with you. “Listen,” he says gently, “we don’t have to work out anything definitive right now, but I— we’d like it if you stuck around for a long time. If you want.”

He rushes to add the last part, like he’s worried even the tiniest hint at anything remotely resembling a commitment could make you bolt like a startled deer — and you can hardly blame him for that.

You give him a quiet nod, unable to do much more right now than acknowledge his offer, then you look at Wooyoung, to see where he is at right now.

“Yeah, I’m with San,” Wooyoung says earnestly, but you spot the playful gleam in his eyes even before he opens his mouth again. “Seriously, what do I care if I get to kiss you or not, if it means we get to keep you around? I’d rather learn a little self-control than miss out on you.”

You exhale a soft, fond laugh. “Thanks, Woo. I know what a sacrifice that is for you,” you tease him, but you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter to make clear you really do appreciate it.

“Oh, it’s a huge sacrifice. Don’t you dare think I’m treating this lightly,” Wooyoung says, absolutely treating it lightly “Do you even realise just how much I love smooching my friends? So. Damn. Much. You better be grateful!”

You’re fully aware of how much he loves it; you’ve seen often enough how he — and San — menace their friends with kisses the same way you like to menace Hongjoong with hugs. In hindsight it’s a small miracle that it took this long for either of them to slip up and lay one on you at the wrong moment.

You try to move your arm to reach back and touch San, and are mildly surprised when you can’t, still restrained by the ropes around your wrists. They’d almost been forgotten, like they are as natural to your body as wearing clothes.

“…Hey, is it weird that we just had this whole heart-to-heart while me and Wooyoung are tied up?”

San just shrugs, giving you a small grin. “As long as it works for us. That’s how we’re doing this whole thing, right?” But it does pull his attention back to the bondage, and he testingly feels at your bindings. “Does it all still feel good?”

“Really good,” you sigh. “Definitely worth revisiting this type of thing under different circumstances. Ah… I think Wooyoung agrees,” you blurt out the last part; his cock gave an enthused twitch at the suggestion of doing this again, noticeable even through his boxers.

“Oh, does he now?” San purrs, running his hand over Wooyoung’s chest harness.

Wooyoung is predictably shameless. “Hey, I’m enjoying myself. I’m all for a redo without clothes getting in the way.”

“Then we’ll make that happen soon, for sure,” San says, biting his lip. “Want me to untie you now, or stay like this for a bit longer?”

You and Wooyoung exchange a look, coming to an unspoken, unanimous agreement. “Bit longer.”

San hums, the heated look in his eyes softening back into affectionate warmth. He nestles back against you, throwing a leg over yours to hook his ankle around Wooyoung’s; creating another connective thread between the three of you as the bedroom settles into a relaxed, almost dream-like space.

You’re still restrained, but you have never felt less trapped. Instead you surrender your body and mind to the rope, to San, even to Wooyoung, although he is just as tied up as you; and you know you are welcome here, your presence treasured for exactly the way you are.

The feeling lingers even after San carefully untangles you and Wooyoung, enveloping you like a soft, serene glow.

You feel it in the gleam of San’s eyes as he rubs circles into your wrists, gentle deep pressure to encourage your bloodflow. You feel it in the weight of Wooyoung’s head resting on your shoulder, so quiet that you think he has dozed off until he giggles at an exchange of small jokes between you and San.

You feel it even after you leave their physical presence behind to turn in for the night; it’s right there in the ease of your thoughts, in knowing they won’t carelessly discard you.

The timer has stopped, no longer ticking away in your head. Instead San’s offer echoes through you, resonating stronger with every repeat.

“We’d like it if you stuck around, for a long time. If you want.”

In truth, you never gave much thought to what you actually want the future with San and Wooyoung to look like, other than some vague idea of ‘existing in each others’ lives’. You always assumed the choice would be made for you, and to fill in any details would only set you up to get hurt.

Now they have extended a hand to fill in those details together. And you don’t know what it’ll look like exactly — a platonic commitment of some sorts, something that works for the three of you regardless of traditional conventions — but you do know that you want to stick around. For a long time.

The next morning, you wake up to find a 4AM text from Wooyoung.

hey so non-sexy kissing is off the table but i can still bite u right

You snort tiredly, still half-asleep. Like he hasn’t been doing plenty of that already! But you resolve to go see him today, and give an in-person demonstration to show him exactly how you feel about bites.

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #san smut #wooyoung smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #woosan x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez #san #wooyoung #ateez scenarios #san ateez #wooyoung ateez #igby’s writing

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rustedhearts · 1 day

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always (boxer!steve x fem!librarian reader)

summary: set after the events of the incident and send her my love, you meet steve in your hometown to catch up after three months apart. has he done the work like he said he has, or is steve’s nature irreversible?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1993) ✶ the library ✶ the record store

tags: fluff, a dash of angst, a lot of comfort!, this literally has been in my drafts since the dawn of time so i’m sorry for the cheesy ending, i just wanted it out!

"what i'd give to run my fingers through your hair, to touch your lips, to hold you near—when you say your prayers, try to understand: i've made mistakes, i'm just a man."

— always, bon jovi

hawkins, indiana. march 1993.

Your luggage sat unzipped and dumped full of clothes, purses folded to fit and closet frantically thrown apart when the phone rang. Your letter wasn't even three days out, barely filling space in the mailbox of your lover before it had been torn open and consumed greedily—and while you were preparing for a trip of your own, Steve insisted he be the one to travel.

So, when you plucked the phone from the cradle on your nightstand, sinking breathlessly onto the edge of the bed for a beat, you were surprised to find his voice on the other line.

"Don't come to California," he rasped into the phone, just as out of air as you. "I'm coming to you."

Mouth parting, you felt your insides tug and lurch at the familiar sound of his syllables. "W-what? Steve?"

"I got your letter, baby. I'm coming to you, don't go anywhere." A beat followed, and while you found your breath and racked your brain for a response, Steve returned to the line. "Please."

Chest blooming with new beats, you let a smile overtake your face and reveled in the way your hands began to shake. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

And though he insisted on coming to you, you kept your things neatly packed in your suitcase in the closet. You never made your bed, and you had your favorite pair of slip-on shoes ready near the door. You wouldn't be traveling to Steve right now, but you knew you'd be returning home soon.

✶ ✶

The nicest restaurant Hawkins had to offer was Enzo's, a little Italian place next to a shoe store slowly going out of business. It was the only place in the entire town that required a reservation, and Steve promised to take care of all of it. You wrangled your friends and took a trip to the mall, coming away with a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a new, sleek black dress. You hung it on the back of your closet door and waited giddily for Steve's return to town.

It felt like ages since you'd been here together, and it felt strange to remember that this was where both of you have grown up and lived your lives before all the fame. Life in Hawkins had become so separate to Steve over the past few months. You had the library, your friends, your family, and what you didn't tell Steve: an application to the University of Indianapolis for the autumn. It was crumpled and weeks old, and absent of pen markings where needed—but you had it.

But now that Steve was returning, you remembered all those cool days spent on the back of his motorcycle, ripping through town. Visiting the old gym at the edge of town that always smelled like burnt tires, sharing chocolate milkshakes on the way home at the same diner you had your first date at. Afternoons in his old, dingy, first floor apartment with the mold in the bathroom ceiling and the green carpet that reminded you of your grandparents' house. Early mornings in the full-sized bed, comparing hands sizes and finding shapes in streaks of sunlight across the foot of the bed.

Steve told you he loved you for the first time in that bed. Reclined on his side, head resting in his hand, watching you scrub at your teeth with a foamy toothbrush through the open doorway, pulling your hair back to spit it into the sink. Dressed in only his sweatshirt, feet bare and toes frozen in the winter weather and an apartment with a broken radiator. When you spun around to return to bed, he confessed. You aren't sure you ever ended up leaving bed that day.

For some reason, as you breezed into the jazz-filled restaurant in your brand new dress, all dolled up and pretty, you could only remember those beginnings. The nervous hand skitters, the back knuckle kisses, the hours spent between your thighs, the hope for the future. You suddenly realized how young you were back then. Just kids, holding out on life working out in your favor.

Steve was seated when you arrived: a round little table in the center of the restaurant. Brown slacks, crisp white shirt, no tie. A silver ring gleamed on his left forefinger, a plain but handsome signet. You bought it for him last Christmas. And as you inched closer, guided by the hostess, the wavering amber candlelight gave way to something else—something new.

A patch of dark hair shadowed over his upper lip.

It curled into the shape of his smile at the sight of you heading his way. The wooden chair beneath him groaned with the relief of weight when he leapt to his feet, hands smoothing down his folded cuffs. You came to a stop at the end of the table, and as the hostess lingered to ask for your drink orders, you found yourself lost in that handsome, hairy smile.

"Hi," he breathed.

A giggle hiccuped from your mouth. "Hi."

Steve was quick to make his rounds to your side of the table, pulling the chair back. You sank down, head tipped back to watch as he pushed you in. His grin broadened with the weight of your eyes on him, following him the whole way back to his seat. Once seated, he inhaled deeply, taking a moment to gaze at your face.

"May I get you something to drink?"

You blurted something out when the hostess's eyes slid to you. You couldn't quite remember when you thought back on it a moment later—too lost in the sight of Steve's hazel eyes grazing over you. When the hostess disappeared, you both seemed to jump.

"You look—"

"You're so—"

The pair of you stopped, words tumbling into each other. Heat flooded your face and Steve chuckled, spinning the band around his finger with his thumb on the tabletop.

"You go," you insisted.

"I was just going to say...you look so beautiful."

More heat settled in your face, though you'd heard it from him a thousand times before. You shifted in your seat, tugging at the end of your dress.

"Thank you. I was going to tell you how handsome you looked, too."

Redness swelled in Steve’s cheeks, rounded with another smile. You’d never seen him show his excitement so blatantly, and something about it now made your insides flutter. He was so happy to see you, and that made you gooey and soft.

When the drinks were set down and the entrees had been ordered, you pressed your lips into a smile and tipped your head at Steve.

“I’ve never seen you with a mustache.”

His fingers immediately swept over the hair on his lip, eyes ducking toward his Coke. “Oh, yeah. Do you-did you-is it alright?”

Eyes softening, you brushed your foot against his under the table. “More than alright. It’s very handsome, Steve.”

His gratitude waned to bashful, eyes returning to the white tablecloth. You leaned forward and took a sip of your water through the plastic straw, welcoming the cool feeling in your mouth. Heat gathered and festered in your body like the surface of the sun. The new fabric of your dress started to itch around your back. You hadn't been this nervous around Steve since your first date.

"How was the flight here?" you tried, placing your eyes on him again.

You couldn't believe how dashing he looked. The mustache somehow softened him. Or maybe it was that lopsided, sideways grin that gushed boyish charm. Either way, your heart couldn't stop hammering.

"Oh, it-it was fine. Paparazzi bullshi—I mean…paparazzi mess in the airport,” Steve stuttered, wiping a hand over his eyes when his usual profanity slipped through.

He was trying so hard to be good—to be better. You wished he would realize that cutting back on profanity wouldn’t alter what needed to be fixed. But if it helped him get there, you wouldn’t protest. You just sort of liked how those crude words rounded at the edges when they came from his mouth. Like swallowing a pill for some, but gulping water for him. Easy, digestible, almost reflex. He made the grotesque seem wonderful.

But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? For you, anyhow.

“Oh, I’m sorry. We should be safe from all that here, though.”

Steve nodded, hands wringing in his lap. “Yeah…m’ not worried about it.”

A flicker of a smile flittered over your face. “Okay.”

You turned to the tablecloth then, the chair beneath you feeling weightless. Like at any moment, you could blow away in the wind. It was still hard to feel steady around Steve. He watched from across the table as you traced a run in the linen. He thought you were glowing.

“How’s Nick? And your parents, how are they?” he asked when the quiet pause surpassed comfortability.

“Nick is…at the age where all he wants to do is go off and do things. He’s getting restless, I think. And Mom is good, um, wants to redo the living room. She thinks it’s too outdated now, but…I like holding onto the 80s.”

Steve’s dark mustache curled with another smile. “Yeah, you always liked old stuff. Or ‘vintage’ as you call it.”

"The 80s are not vintage, Steve, they were only 4 years ago," you giggled.

Steve forgot just how wonderful his name sounded in the soft octave and lovely frequencies of your voice. So particular, how your tongue tapped your teeth against the 't,' and how you sort of grinned around the syllables with ease. He swallowed just at the sound of it.

"Oh, sorry, sorry." He was teasing. It'd been so long since he teased.

Another momentary quiet lulled over the table as the shared laughter fizzled out. You glanced around the restaurant a moment. Most other tables were coupled with middle-aged pairs, clinking wine glasses and holding hands against dinner plates, or gazing at their own menus and sitting as far apart as possible, ignoring the other person like a bad habit. A younger couple, late teens at best, sat at the far end near the restrooms. It must've been their first "fancy" dinner. He whispered in her ear and she looked straight at your table, hand covering her mouth.

"Have you spoken to Eddie?" A swift conversation needed to be found, though you weren't sure this was the best course to go down.

Steve, however, just shook his head down at his empty bread plate. You slipped one from the clothed basket to pluck at mindlessly to fill your fidgeting hands. They needed something to do.

"Uh...no. No, I...I haven't." He was too embarrassed to reach out knowing how he behaved. "Have you?"

You nodded. "Um, yeah, sometimes. When Stella calls, I'll say hello."

Steve's smile was small, a little wary. "I'm glad you two are becoming such good friends."

"Oh, well...she's a movie star, I'm just..." You shrugged.

The edges of Steve's mouth embedded downward, brows pinched together. "Just what?"

Heat swelled in your cheeks and under your jaw. You felt sore with visibility. "Just...I don't know—it doesn't matter. M' not much, is all. I'm certainly not a glamorous actress."

Steve leaned forward on his forearms, eyes swampy and sincere under scrunched brows. "Hey. You're everything, angel. Everything."

The sun, the moon, the stars, the cosmos and everything beyond—you were everything to him. He meant that with every fiber of his being.

And you could see that in those eyes, watching you through the glow of candlelight, waiting to recognize an understanding in your own.

You let a smile overtake your face, bashful and pretty. "Thank you, Steve."

In the next wait, you watched him reach to rub at his temples, only to yank his hands away and busy them with something else. You watched for a few painful moments before pulling your purse around the post of your chair and into your lap, snicking the zipper open to reach inside. Your pill case, a tiny metal container with a floral top, still held all the Steve-approved pain pills of the olden days. You pulled out two and set them on the table.

Steve's eyes slid to the tablets quietly. Then your hands, pushing the container rattling with medicated contents back into your purse. Even after all this time.

As his fingers came to retrieve the pills, he caught your eye. You smiled at him. Sweet and loving and kind. He smiled back, a flash of white teeth with sharp canines. It crinkled his eyes with the faintest crow's feet. You longed to reach out and touch them, feel his warm flesh beneath your fingertips.

"Thank you," he whispered into the rim of his water glass.

You pinched the straw of your Coke. "Of course."

Unable to stomach another small silence, you leaned forward with urgency before it could come, looking to Steve with pleading eyes. "Can we drop the formalities and niceties, Steve? I mean...we know each other too well for it. Let's just...pick up from where we left off."

Steve inhaled sharply, a little pained. "Not...right where we left off."

You nodded, extending your hand for him to take over the table. He did so eagerly, fingers sliding into your smaller palm until they pressed against your wrist. "Then, we'll pick up in the middle of it."

Steve rubbed his fingers over your skin, feeling the ridges and valleys of your veins and bones.

"In the middle of it," he affirmed.

His touch tickled, and another giggle burst forth when tingles sparked down your spine.

He eased forward again, mischief in his eye. "Did I tell you how good you smelled? S' my favorite, isn't it?"

You tipped your head, bashful grin coiling at the corner of your mouth. It made Steve's breath catch in his throat, the frayed edge of his nerves feel like they were on fire.

"How'd you know?"

Steve swallowed, tracing a tiny circle on the back of your hand with his index finger.

"I missed that smell," he admitted.

His written words from the past few months rang through your head. "The paper smelled like you this time. You don't know how badly I've missed that smell. I sort of feel like a hound-dog, tracing for more of it in the ink."

It was your nerves that felt afire this time. You flipped your hand to lie flat and engulfed Steve's atop the white linen cloth. The movement bumped the candle in the center of the table, and the flicker wobbled over the edge of Steve's face with a gentle, orange glow.

You wanted to feel his lips. You wanted to feel the strength of his hands on your face again. Petting you, touching you, feeling you. If there was one thing you missed, it was Steve's touch. The sheer size of his presence around you. How his warmth rang through every inch of your being and every corner of the room when you were together.

"I loved your letters," you declared, the thought of his words still poking at your thoughts.

Steve inhaled. "Really?"

"You were quite...poetic."

Steve snickered, scratching at the silver scar on his brow with his free hand.

"God," he hissed, shaking his head with a grimace. His eyes fell to the candle before slowly bouncing their way to your chin. Suddenly, he couldn't meet your eye. "But you...you really liked them?"

You placed your other hand atop the ones intertwined on the table. The look in your eye appeared sincere—genuine fondness.

"Adored."

Steve exhaled, lips parting in preparation to utter some other murmur of adoration—but then the waitress was suddenly standing at your table, holding two steaming dishes. Steve's eyes found her first, narrowing in disappointment at the interruption. He pulled back from the candlelight where he was crowding to get close to you. Your arm inched backward, heading for your lap but stopped by Steve's grip on your fingers.

You met his eye over the waitress's arm, fingers clinging to each other by the first knuckles. He didn't want to let go. So you stayed.

The fog of Steve's presence must've interrupted your train of thought, because you didn't remember ordering the meal that sat in front of you. But you picked up your fork with your free hand and sank into it anyway, buzzing with giddiness and too lovestruck to care.

It felt like everything in your body and your mind had been windswept by the current predicament. All you could think of were Steve's eyes across the table, and his fingers against your own.

You were four bites and two Coke sips in when Steve spoke again.

"Are you coming home?”

Your eyes traced the distance between the condensation dripping down your glass to the roundness of Steve’s eyes in no time. He took his lip between his teeth and gnawed it, hand off his plate to fall into his lap. You sat back, swallowing the bite of food in your mouth that suddenly grew in size. It scraped your stomach going down.

“Um…”

The table rattled with the incessant bounce of Steve’s knee beneath it.

“I want to,” you said. “I just…don’t want to go back as if nothing happened, Steve.”

He let go of his lip, ringed finger scratching at his scar again. “No, yeah. Yeah, makes sense.”

The scrape of utensils and clink of dishes filled another silence. You took another bite of your dinner. Steve gulped down half his water and tapped his finger on the table. He wished he hadn’t left his Marlboros in his jacket pocket at the coat check.

“What if…”

You looked his way again, fork prongs between your lips. He poked at his steak. The finger curled around yours felt clammy and tight.

“What if you came to New York with me? I have a fight next weekend in the Garden. You could…come for a few days…we could have a do-over.”

You swallowed. The last time you were in New York together, things hadn’t gone well. It was the first time he left a mark. The first time you broke things off and left for home.

“Um…”

Steve had never heard you say um this many times in all the years he’d known you.

“I never got to take you to Tiffany’s,” he said, clearing his throat when your eyes cut his way in surprise. His cheeks were a lovely shade of rose again. “A-and that…that cowboy guy you like—“

“Ralph Lauren.” Your lips pressed into a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh…we could go there. Anywhere.”

Just come with me, he wanted to say. Please.

But Steve didn’t have to say it. You could see it in his eyes, hazels all round under a set of cinched brows. Like a kitten waiting for milk. A dog sitting for a bone.

“You don’t have to buy me,” you added, just for one last second of strength.

It all went out the window the moment you laid eyes on him.

“I know. I just…wanna show you that I’m here. I’m here, and…I’ll be better.”

You sighed, hand reaching up to fondle the locket that you forgot wasn’t there. The Christmas present from Steve that you tucked away in your jewelry box months ago. The token of a love you were certain was still there.

“I’ll think about it,” you told him.

And Steve smiled, and went back to his dinner with faith. Faith that you would return to him, like they all knew you would.

Your ticket to New York City was booked the next day. Signed, sealed, and delivered with a kiss from one handsome boxer Steve.

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington one shot

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ihavethedreamies · 1 day

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Matter of Pride | Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.9k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.

"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.

From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.

"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.

"Why didn't you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.

"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

You did go back when he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.

"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)." He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fanfic

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 7 hours

Text

HEY WHO WANTS AN UPDATE ON MY VACATION THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR? Lmao well sucks for you this is a monarchy and I am Prince and you're getting it anyway:

1. My friends and I went down to eat breakfast. The waiter asked them what language their native tongue is, Kannada or Tulu or anything else, and before they could answer he pointed at me and said (in Kannada), "I knew this one speaks English as soon as I looked at them. With people like this I just go full butler and restrict myself to yes or no."

2. Yes I fucking got called out as a whitewashed piece of shit by a random waiter who took one look at me. The worst part is he's right. English is my first language.

3. I saw a lot of human kidneys and they were THE CUTEST THINGS EVER THERE WERE SO MANY I WAS SO HAPPY UNFORTUNATELY I COULDN'T HOLD ANY BUT AT LEAST I GOT TO LOOK AT THE CUTIES.

4. I made a lot of intense eye contact with dead babies to evade the Birds. To be fair, most of the babies had, um, closed eyes. Or no eyes. I promise I wouldn't have been making that much eye contact without the Birds. I'd have been looking at the kidneys instead. No i will not be elaborating for fear of freaking people out.

5. It was legal btw. Aside from the photo my friend took of me making the two fingered salute (like the dude smiling next to the grave meme) next to a foetus that was at least slightly demonic in origin.

6. Anyway so then I spoke to my other friend and told her how I felt (about being afraid that they didn't see me as a guy because they've known me since I was 11) and she said it wasn't that, she was just getting used to the new name and pronouns and that was all (since I only came out to her two days ago). And I hugged her.

7. My friends have all been using Asmi for me and correcting themselves with their pronouns. I love them and I want to cry.

8. I saw two men holding hands in front of me at the mall. A very careful holding of hands, delicately. But I think they saw me glance at them, because when they got on the escalator in front of me, they untangled their hands and when one reached for the other's hand again, he pulled it away, and they both carefully stayed on their phones. I don't know. Just something I'm thinking about.

9. Maybe I should take off the progress pride pin from my denim jacket and just wear it everywhere I go. Fuck blending in with the cishets I want the queers to know I exist and they're not alone.

And those were the highlights of my day <3 A totally normal vacation for real.

Have the loveliest of days my maggots I'll be back home in two days and then I'll have all my attention to annoy you with, my loves. And a social battery, which currently is dead by night because of irl interactions.

I'll sleep now. The Horrors will be occupied with me, I hope they leave you alone.

I love you 💕

#life update #desi queer #trans joy #trans acceptance #:“)#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots

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crepezinhos · 1 day

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Anti-Stress

(Kazuha Smut)

POV: It’s 2022 and Kazuha and a friend are celebrating the final game of the year’s World Cup by betting quantities of money that are extremely high to you but low to them. But suddenly, the game suddenly takes a turn in less than two minutes in the second half of it and Kazuha is beginning to feel stressed and worried about losing the bet. To solve that, he uses you to de-stress.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— Kazuha is not the greenest flag here

— Reader uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains mentions of sex work

— Possible TW for patriotic French people

“Kaedehara Kazuha!” The man screams inside the room as he heard you open the door for Kazuha and you to get in.

He was sat down in one of the only two sofas in the room with open arms and a just-blown cigarette in his hand, welcoming Kazuha like a good old friend.

You and Kazuha were in a private room at the top floor of a soccer stadium. There were many other rooms like this in made for the players’ guests or rich people like your employer, Kaedehara Kazuha. One of the walls of the room is entirely a window which had a great vision of the camp and of some of the common fans in the public seats of the staium. You could hear all their muffled, excited screams and cheering of anticipation. It was the final game of 2022’s World Cup and you weren’t excited at all even if this game mattered a lot for the whole world.

You just stood there with your high heels in the closest corner to the door so you could watch the game even if it isn’t your favorite thing. You wished you could sit too because you knew those heels would begin to hurt at some point, but your posture really mattered as a secretary, especially when other people were seeing you work.

“Mr. Harukami!” Kazuha greeted a little less excited, walking at his direction with slightly open arms. “I apologize for my tardiness, it was difficult to find the private parking slots.” Kazuha answered while sitting down at the other empty sofa.

“No, no, I get it, it was difficult for me too.” The man replied, blowing his cigarette right afterwards for a brief moment, which made him realize your presence in the room. “Who is the girl?” He asked, some smoke got out of his mouth.

“She’s my secretary, why? Do you feel bothered by her presence?” Kazuha replied for you.

“No, not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you to bring anyone to watch you lose.” Mr. Harukami joked, making Kazuha chuckle.

“I actually brought her to watch you lose.” Kazuha joked back. “But in all seriousness, I would’ve not find the private parking slots if it wasn’t for her, so please, let her relax in this chilly room.” Kazuha showed you off. “Thank you again, Y/N.” He turned to your direction to thank your efforts and you just nodded back.

You find weird how Kazuha always presents you as this gift from God, a prodigious woman wasting her potential being common worker, but technically there’s no bad sides to it so you never felt like asking him to stop with it. And indeed, due to Kazuha’s job, you work hard every day, responding stupid e-mails, scheduling meetings and the company’s agenda… you deserve to be recognized by him and his other colleagues.

“Well then, she’s more than welcome to stay. Good secretaries are an underrated privilege.” Mr. Harukami complimented as he grabbed his packet of cigarettes out of pocket. “Want a ciggie?” He offered Kazuha, who nodded his head in denial.

“No, thank you.”

“Well then, how much are you betting again?” He said while blowing a second cigarette.

“Unfortunately, I’m not betting as much as our last matches, Harukami. Final games are already a big pressure to everyone… the players, the spectators, the betters, so I don’t to worsen it. 20.000 dollars in Argentina.”

“20.000? I thought you were more courageous than that…” The man chuckled at Kazuha’s bet.

“I’m also betting an extra 5.000 on Di Maria scoring. How about you?”

“50.000, France.”

“Wow! You really are into it, aren’t you?”

“Sure am… Oh! There they are…” Mr. Harukami said excited as soon as a very loud music begun to play outside in the stadium, which was thankfully censored by the glass wall of the room.

And both men finally begun to pay attention at the game about the start and the announcer speaking in the radio in the table.

But unfortunately, your peace in that little corner would soon end.

“Y/N, do you mind getting me and Mr. Harukami more wine?” Kazuha asked to you a little anxious and still in his seat as he grabbed both glasses to hand it to you.

“Yes, sir.” You responded even if serving him like a maid wasn’t your job and begun walking to other side of the room where was a fridge.

It was the beginning of second half of the game now and Argentina had scored twice, which was making Kazuha feel comfortable unlike Mr. Harukami. But for some reason Mbappé, from France, managed to score twice in less than 2 minutes which made Kazuha unstick his back from the comfy sofa and begin watch the game seriously. In worry of losing his 20.000 dollars, he begun to involuntarily drink sips of wine more frequently, which made his glass become empty in seconds. Even you got a little invested in the game but was interrupted by Kazuha’s order.

You came back with both glasses in your hands filled with a fair amount of wine, serving them from behind to not call their attention.

“You look uneasy, Kazuha. Are you scared of Mbappé turning this game around?”

“Yes, I will not lie. As long as I’m a huge fan of Messi, this is his last game… he’s become old. Mbappé is a young, talented player.” Kazuha replied, laying down at his chair again as he sighed, involuntarily realizing that you something was behind him. He took a look behind him and met you zoning out to pay attention at the game, making him chuckle.

“Do you like the game, Y/N?” He asked with a cute smirk in his face.

“It is getting quite interesting, sir.” You replied, putting both your arms behind your back and holding your own left wrist.

“Why don’t you sit down, dear? Your legs must hurting from those heels. Come on.” He suggested while tapping at his right leg with his hand, making you feel confused at his orders.

He was tapping his lap. He wants you to sit there?

“I’m fine, sir, and I believe there are no more places for me to si—”

“I insist, Y/N.” He interrupted, still with that smirk in his face but his voice got demanding.

Still confused with his intentions, you nodded in response and walked to the direction of his right leg, where you sat down. As soon as you did that, you felt Kazuha’s hands instantly hug your waist from behind and pulling you the closest to him he could. You two were so close to each other that you were able to hear his normal-paced breathing blowing bits of wind behind your ear. You thought that position was awkward but Kazuha was acting like it was the most normal thing ever. And that’s how you stayed in his lap for some peaceful minutes until the ball suddenly managed to be kicked all the way close to Argentina’s goal. You heard Kazuha sigh in worry but something else bothered you. A sudden touch of the same hand he used to hug your body slowly attempting to slide under your tight black skirt, making you slightly gasp and hold his wrist down.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, looking at him in pure confusion.

“I just want to enjoy this beautiful woman in my lap.” He replied with a smirk, seeing that you got annoyed with his perversion, gently cuddling your waist with his thumb.

“Kazuha, we’re not in a safe spot nor alone.” You protested, trying to get out of his lap but you were instantly pulled back to his lap.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Mr. Harukami won’t pay attention to us and these windows are fully black in the vision of whoever is outside, that’s why it has this darker effect for us. No one can see us, not the cameras nor the people. I promise I’ll make it up to you, my dear, but this game is getting on my nerves and you are irresistable in this uniform.” Kazuha whispered with his nose barely going inside your ear, showing a bit of his stress as his hands slid under your skirt.

“Kazuha..!” You called out, with no good argument to use against him even if you still were reluctant.

“Yes… just keep saying my name and I’ll make sure this will be quick.” He chuckled in your ear as you felt his managing to go all the way down and touch the tip of his fingers in your clothed entrance, beginning to tease by cuddling it up and down.

You moaned out and your hips flickered from the tickle and slight pleasure it gave you. Your other hand moved to Kazuha’s left leg, to squeeze it and push yourself upwards whenever he accidentally touched a soft spot. He was miring you very attentively, very amused by your noises and face. So as soon as you and him started to feel your underwear getting slightly wet from his bare touch and your cheeks go pink, Kazuha began to move his hand upwards to slide it under your panties.

“W-Wait..! Not there—!” You tried protesting again but Kazuha managed to touch your clit before you could finish, making you moan in agony and stop complaining for a moment.

Kazuha chuckled at your reaction and kissed your cheek passionately before he begun to pay attention at the game again like he wasn’t playing with a woman’s pussy at the same time. His face was completely normal aside from his usual smirk, eyes locked in the ball as his fingers did wonders at your pussy.

You could feel Mr. Harukami’s gaze sometimes mire your embarrassing situarion whenever your moans got too high.

“Well… this is definitely something new to my eyes, but don’t worry, I’m not complaining.” You hoped that would be the only comment you’d ever hear from Mr. Harukami in the moment.

What Kazuha was doing to you was so embarrassing, finger-fucking you in front of another man and possibly to many cameras, but why the fuck his fingers made you feel so good? Kazuha wasn’t even getting hard meanwhile you were screaming like a dog in heat for his fingers going halfway in and out from your swollen pussy. Even if there was air conditioning in the room, your body was quickly getting really heated from the tense of sex and very easily too, making you become sweaty, your cheeks go pink and the makeup in your eyes begin to crumble from the amounts of slight tears and your strong blinks from agony of being teased.

“Aaand… GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAL! MBAPPÉ SCORES AGAIN!” The announcer in the radio in the table between the chairs announced again meanwhile the whole left side of stadium outside, where the France cheerers were, went wild.

Kazuha sighed very hard but you felt him suddenly press your clit with 2 fingers way too hard, making your body entirely flinch and a scream escape your mouth.

“Ah! Kazuha! Don—” You screamed out, looking at him behind you annoyed but Kazuha was quick to suddenly take his hand away from your clit and shove his 2 wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand moved to your clit to replace the other one’s job.

“As long as I really enjoy your moans, I need you to be quiet now, ok? You can bite my fingers or squeeze my legs if you need to scream.” He whispered in your ear very calmly but you could feel his stress taking over his usual playful tone and changing the way he aggressively thrusted your pussy.

His fingers in your mouth were also pounding inside it, wanting to be fully sucked and taken by your mouth to censor your distracting noises. You hated how pathetic you looked, choking and drooling in his fingers in front of a window but he was making you feel so good that you didn’t care, you just wanted to fulfill your pussy until it reached a nice orgasm.

“Kazuha, please..!” You whimpered, looking at his face, pulling his hand out of your mouth using your right hand and all your remaining energy. Kazuha smirked in amusement of hearing you call his name so desperately but didn’t even bother to pay attention to you.

“You promise to be quiet, dear?” He whispered again, still more focused in the game than your teasing, fucked-out face.

“Yes!” You whispered highly, making Kazuha chuckle in pride of having you acting so slutty to him.

But still, the same hand he was using inside your mouth was moved back to your waist, crawling it inside your white social shirt and then under your bra, pushing your bra upwards and painting your body with your own saliva in the way. He stopped when he had his palm right on top of your right nipple. His hands begun to slowly pinch it and rotate it in rhythm of his finger thrusts, making you throw your head back in agony. But to obey his previous orders, you rushed a hand to slap your own mouth shut.

The way he played your nipples was making you go insane. You could feel it slightly wet from the saliva that remained on his hand, and just wanted more. You wanted him to squeeze them until they were red-marked, you wanted his dick shoved all the way down in your pussy, you wanted the real thing, but you couldn’t have it. That agony of being tortuously fulfilled made some tears begun to form in your eyes. You tried your best to not let them fall but some of them just couldn’t be held. Your makeup must be looking terrible now, and Kazuha liked the mess he was making of you. His smirk grew wider as he felt a tear coincidentally drop in the hand messing with your hard nipple.

“Kazuha… I’m gonna cum…” You whispered as low as you could, making Kazuha change the way he played with your breast to begin squeezing it and moving it around just like you desired.

It was like he had read your dirty mind. You had to make extra strength in your mouth to not let your scream out as you felt the contrast of his cold hand with your warm, sweaty breast mass.

“Cum all around me, my love.” He ordered, beginning to play with both parts of your bodies quicker than ever.

You wish you could lay your hand on top of Kazuha’s hand and help him to make you reach your orgasm quicker, but you rathered to not disobey his orders. It felt embarrassing to have your whole body twitching and worming right on top of your own boss. His chest and legs felt like a warm pillow, like your face would suddenly just burry in his chest as he toys you infinitely. Your legs were fully spread away at this point, trying to not get dirty by your wetness and begging to be fulfilled. Your hips were trying its best to move upwards to somehow free yourself from his fingers, but Kazuha’s arms felt too strong and hard for your little, wobbly body. Even if you wished that orgasm more than anything, you knew it would hurtful and a lot due to the torture it’s being to reach it. But being edged would be worse, wouldn’t it? If that's how Kazuha makes you feel with a single round, you don't feel like being edged multiple times by his fingers.

Suddenly, you felt your whole body collapse and your breath get caught in your throat. That was it, the moment of release of all that painful, overwhelming pleasure he gave in these 20 minutes. Your mouth was barely ripped apart by your own hands from your own effort on shutting it up and you brought your legs and knees together again, trying to contain the agony of cumming and smashing Kazuha’s hand even if it wasn’t doing anything to torture your sensible pussy anymore and letting you cream his fingers. As soon as you finally stopped making any kind of force, he pulled you back to where you were in his lap and leaned to your ear again.

“Thank you, I feel a lot better.” He complimented as he took his creamy, white fingers off your pussy and licked the juices leaked around them precisely.

He pulled out a tissue from his pocket with his other hand and begun drying his fingers. Right after cleaning himself, his both his hands began to roam around your body to fix your clothes back to normal like you were a doll in a girl's hand. You would be looking normal again if your cheeks weren’t pink, and sweaty, your mouth breathy, your makeup slightly ruined and your soul obviously defeated.

“Seems like we have 2 minutes before the initial timer ends.” Mr. Harukami finally spoke up after those very awkward minutes of silence.

This entire time after Mbbapé’s goal, there was no other goal from both teams.

“Would you like to stand up to watch the final penalties better?” Kazuha asked Mr. Harukami while curling a piece of your hair, assuming that there would be final penalties to decide the game’s winner.

“Of course, I believe I should’ve rented another room… this one doesn’t have the best angle of the goals.” Mr. Harukami commented as he got up.

“Oh, don’t worry Mr. Harukami, the game is still pleasant.” Kazuha said as he grabbed your body and made you stand up for a quick moment just for him to switch your positions and place you back at his spot in the sofa as he grabbed his glass of wine you had filled before. You felt like your entire pressure had dropped to zero when he pulled you up, which made a quick pain in head show up as soon as your body relaxed in the sofa again.

“Rest now.” He asked as he pat your head gently and kissed your forehead before walking away to watch the game from the closest view.

In the next few minutes, you just breathed in and out like a brainless worm until you finally begun to come back to reality again. And… you were mad. Literally how dare he? How dare he treat like a doll? Like a prostitute? Did Kazuha really need to do what he did to you? In front of a man you didn’t know? Was he going to keep doing things like this to you without any kind of prize or money for it? In annoyance, you finally leaned up to a normal sitting position and crossed both your arms and legs in stress, anger and embarrassment, just waiting for Kazuha to notice it and realize he made a mistake in understimating you.

“Well then… I believe this is the end of this year’s World Cup.” Kazuha joked and chuckled at the same time as the crowd in white and blue shirts started to scream with all the strength in their throats.

“Very funny, Kazuha.” He said stressed at Kazuha’s satiric behavior even if it was hypocritical of him.

“So… how are you going to pay me?” Kazuha asked as he drunk a sip of his wine.

“In cash, I’ll have it at your door by tomorrow.” He offered.

“I hope you do, Mr. Harukami. It’s 50.000 in total but spending some time with you is more valuable to me.” Kazuha joked as he finally turned to you again, offering a hand for you to get up.

You looked back at him dead in the eye and completely ignored his gentleness by getting up by your own and walking towards the door to open and hold ir for him.

“Well, I have to agree that today was definitely fun, especially how you de-stress yourself. I might even take the hint to myself.” He commented with a smirk, glazing at you for quick moment with a certain hunger, making you feel even angrier at Kazuha.

Indeed, Kazuha had noticed your displeasure but for now he decided to pretend it didn’t exist and just chuckled at Mr. Harukami’s indirect message for you.

“I would recommend it, Mr. Haru—”

“Sir.” You called Kazuha out during his moment, which could’ve been very risky to your job.

Kazuha turned to you a little surprised at your actions but still took the message, quickly changing his pace in grabbing his stuff.

“Well then, I guess we’ll bat again in the next Olympics?” Kazuha asked as he stepped in your direction but still looking at Mr. Harukami.

“For sure, Kaedehara. Now go, I have some calls to do.” Mr. Harukami agreed with a certain anticipation as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “See you at January’s convention in China!” He waved before you finally closed the door very carefully.

You begun to walk pretty quickly, taking the lead for no reason at all. And after some embarrassing seconds of walking in a really long corridor with your making loud noises each step, Kazuha finally spoke up.

“Are you angry, Y/N?” Kazuha asked, accelerating his steps to reach you.

“Yes sir, I am.” You replied, involuntarily letting some of your anger out.

“I apologize, Y/N.” He said and you finally stopped walking because you two had arrived at the elevators, pressing the button to go down before turning to him very confidently.

“You can’t just keep using me like this! If that’s all you see and want in me, I believe I shouldn’t be your secretary anymore!” You confessed how you felt, letting more of your anger leave.

“Now, now, let’s not skip so many steps.” He said, trying to get you to calm down as he stepped a little closer to you. You wish he wasn’t that confident too or that you could authority to stop him from getting close to you, but you couldn’t. So you only kept immobile, challenging him with your own body. “That is definitely not how I see you, Y/N.” He confesses, finally taking the situation as serious as it is. “You are one of the most interesting women I’ve ever met.” He complimented with a tiny smirk.

“Of course I am, I let you fuck me for free!” You joked with yourself.

“Oh, Y/N, that’s definitely not my main interest in you. You’re still a mysterious woman for me even if we’ve been together for a year and it deeply pains me. Luckily, we’re both adults, we can both have sex as we wish to. This is just the easy way for me to learn more about you, but I want to learn so much more…” He confessed and one of the elevators opened upon arrival.

“What do you want to learn about me so bad, Kazuha?” You asked, thinking he was joking as you walked in the elevator.

You aren’t rich, talented or the prettiest woman Kazuha knows. What could he possibly like in you?

Unfortunately, you decided to lean yourself against a wall with your arms crossed. So as soon as Kazuha pressed the “G” button in the table, he leaned closer to you until your foreheads were touching, his hands holding the handrail by your side. You were cornered.

“You’re a sexy, independent, intelligent and precise woman… always working hard to make my life more peaceful, better and entertaining. But unfortunately, you always restricted us to our professional relationship, so I never got to know too much. I know who your parents and siblings are but I don’t know why you have a bad relationship with them or what happened on that one phone call, remember? Where you were saying that you didn’t want to pay it? I was dying of curiosity but you still didn’t let me help you out. You’ve been edging me just like I edged you in that sofa, but for months. I know you can clearly see my burning with desire for you, Y/N. This isn’t the first time I got you embarrassed like this.” Kazuha confessed, leaving you speechless as the elevator shakes for a quick moment and the doors opened again.

“Parking lots.” The robotic female voice stated.

But both of you stood there for many seconds, and just like Kazuha mentioned, you can feel him burning in desire of bringing your lips together and fuck you like an animal right at that exact wall.

“Well, I definitely did not expect this.” You confessed with a smirk growing in your face too, making Kazuha just more amused with you. “That day, Kaedehara Kazuha, my parents wanted me to pay a debt they’ve caused by themselves in a casino. I’ve always warned them to not go there, but they didn’t listen. I didn’t only want you to not know I came out of those hags but I also didn’t want you to waste your money in them.”

“So protective of me…” He teased.

“It's my job... don't take it personally." You teased back. "But... I'm gonna trust you, Kazuha. Even if you have a lot of work to do to redeem all those make-out sessions we've done where you didn't even bother to prize me for.” You threatened jokingly, curling a piece of his hair in your fingers.

“Oh, I will… in fact, want me to work some of it out in the backseats right now?” He challenged and you stared at him for some seconds before chuckling at his desperation to savor you.

“Sure.” You said, finally pushing your way out of his prison gently, edging him yet another time. "Come on, boss." You said, stopping right at the door and leaning your body against the metal door, holding it for his passage in a very sensual pose.

"You're gonna regret being this naughty." He whispered in your ear with his usual calm voice as he walked out of the elevator following the direction of his car.

But you could feel it. He can't hide it from you.

It being his lust for you.

#genshin impact #smut #genshin smut #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin x reader #genshin kazuha #kazuha x reader #world cup

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