#and this is probably not the first time she tried to save someone and failed epically | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostofwriting · 2 months ago

Text

no one could feel your hurt

R.C x Reader

Warnings: car accident, blood, trauma, mentions of drugs and death. ANGSTY.

Note: This came to me in a dream. Not edited. Good luck.

Word Count: 6,831

Synopsis: Rafe's dad admits him to a hospital, hoping to get through to his son. Rafe discovers that he has a lot more trauma than he initially thought.

I suck at descriptions

Rafe’s been having nightmares for a lot of his life. It started when his mom died.

They ranged from the accident replaying in his head as he tried to save her and failing over and over to different scenarios where he watched her die every time.

The former was always first person, it was him trying to save her, trying to get her out of the car, drag her out, douse the flames. The latter was third person, like he was behind glass as he watched helplessly as he in another body tried to save her.

They come and go, lately they’ve been more incessant.

He’s in the passenger seat of his dad’s car. He had some sort of episode two nights ago, he did something he can’t quite remember and Ward decided that he needed to go away for a while. A hospital or rehab centre. Somewhere where he could get 24 hour intensive help.

Rafe doesn’t understand why he can’t just go to a regular therapist, his dad gave him some bullshit excuse about this place being an all in one. He won’t have access to drugs and he’ll have all kinds of therapists. It works better than if he were to go to therapy every two weeks and go home to a stash of pills and cocaine.

The one thing he really hates is that he’ll be away from his girl for eight weeks. His dad thinks that she’s bad for him because he always wants to be with her. He says it’s like he’s addicted to her, like she’s one of the drugs. He doesn’t see it as a bad thing. She’s perfect, she helps him, she listens to him. She’s the only person that understands him. She disagrees with the drugs and he’s tired of disappointing her. He had been clean for a while but he happened to relapse for some reason. The nightmares probably.

He’s going to miss her. He hasn’t gone without seeing her for more than a few days since they started dating.

Rafe looks at the horizon, the music coming from the radio drowned out by the wind coming through his open window. The air feels sharp on his face. It’s crisp like tiny little needles hitting his cheeks.. The leaves are starting to turn orange and yellow, falling to the grass.

The sun shining tricks his brain. His whole life he’s slipped into a funk every time the weather changes to the colder months. This time is no different but he doesn’t feel as awful.

He wishes he were back home, taking the boat out, his girl on his lap as he drives the boat, laughing as he tries to steer with her in the way. She’s the only good thing in his life. She’s the only thing that makes him happy. The only person he gets out of bed for. His dad might be right. But is that so bad? He lives a normal life. She just helps him get through it.

Ward said that if he does well, he’ll get visitation rights. He doesn’t think his dad is thinking about letting him have his girl visit and mostly talking about himself or his sisters coming out here, but he really hopes the doctors will allow him to have her over. Even if it’s for five minutes.

He just needs to get through this and he’ll get to see her again. He needs to prove to his dad that he can be without her for a little bit. And the drugs forever.

When they drive up to the building, he gets a weird feeling in his gut. It’s a huge white brick building with rows of windows. It looks old but well kept. The yard is big, it’s landscaped really nicely, there’s rose bushes, and a fountain. It looks like patients are walking around with nurses and maybe even visitors, he sees some people with badges hanging off lanyards around their necks but he’s too far to read.

The feeling in his stomach intensifies when he sees someone sitting by a tree and it looks to him like the man is talking to himself.

Where the fuck is he?

“Dad, are you sure this is the right place?” His dad stops the car just short of the stairs that lead to huge wooden doors.

“Yes, Rafe, this is where you’ll be staying for a little while. It has great reviews.” He nods at his dad and unbuckles his seatbelt. His dad gets out of the car and runs over to the passenger side, opening the door for Rafe.

“Ready?” He shakes his head

“It’ll be okay son. You’ll be okay.” Rafe takes a deep breath and swings one leg after the other out of the car. As soon as both his feet touch the gravel, the doors to the building open and two nurses step out. Waving them up.

He’s slow to make his way up the stairs, waiting for his dad to grab his bag. He feels his hands get clammy. He feels uneasy. He doesn’t want to be here.

Once they both make it inside, one of the nurses takes his bag from his dad, rummaging through it. Rafe frowns but doesn’t protest. The other nurse smiles and asks for his phone.

“Can’t I keep it?” He barely finds his voice.

“I need to be able to talk to her.” The nurse looks to his dad, a look he doesn’t recognize passing through his face but he steals himself quickly. Rafe looks at his dad.

“Dad?” Ward turns away from the nurse.

“It’s the rules, kiddo.” Rafe sighs and hands his phone over. His hand shakes slightly. He blinks slowly, his head hurts, he feels sore. Something in his back.

A lady in a white doctor’s coat walks in, a smile on her face.

“Hi Rafe, my name is Dr. Jean. I will be helping you throughout your stay here.” She says, offering him her hand. He wipes his palm on his sweats before accepting it.

“Hi.” Is all he says.

“I’ve talked to your dad and together we have come up with a plan that would best help you. You obviously have input in this if you feel like something doesn’t work, we can talk.” Rafe just nods again.

“You and I will have one on one therapy every week, you will have group therapy with some other patients, and we will try different methods to treat your condition.” She finishes, the smile never leaving her face.

“My condition?” He asks and turns to his dad again.

“Your grief, son.” Ward says, giving him a tight lipped smile, like he’s holding something back. Like he has a secret.

“Okay.” How much does he really have to participate? It’s not like they can keep him here forever.

“I heard you had a birthday recently.” Dr. Jean says

“Yeah.” He doesn’t want to have small talk, he just wants to go wherever they’re going to keep him and get this day over with.

“How old are you?” Her smile scares him, he decides.

“18.” He laughs at the irony. He’s an adult but because his dad registered him for this two weeks before his birthday, he gets a say when Rafe leaves. He doesn’t want to fight it either. He’s so tired.

“And how is 18 treating you?” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s trying too hard.

“Well, my dad is bringing me to this weird ass place so it’s not off to a great start.”

“You’ll heal here.” She says before clicking a button that opens the doors into the main facility.

Heal?

“You’ll be okay, son.” His dad hugs him tight, and he hears the emotion in his voice.

“Yeah.” Rafe hugs him back. He wants to go home. Wants to see her.

“I’ll see you soon.” His dad lets him go and the nurses lead him in through the doors.

He steps into the hallway as the doors close behind him. He looks at his dad through the small window as he turns away and walks out of the hospital. Rafe looks forward. Everything is sterile and white and borning. Most of the doors are closed, but as he walks by them he sees that they are offices, each one belonging to a doctor, their name on the door. At the end of the long hallway, there are what seems to be payphones. Three of them. He wonders why they’re there and if they even work.

“This way.” the nurse says, guiding him to the left of the hallway and down some stairs.

He really doesn’t want to be here.

The first few nights are restless, and he just misses her and he wants to talk to her and see her and feel her and hold her, but he can’t. His dad has him locked up in the middle of nowhere because apparently it’s not normal to be codependent of your girlfriend.

How can he not be? She’s the only person that gets him, the only one that understands him and loves him in spite and because of all his flaws. She looks at him and doesn’t see a broken man beyond fixing. She sees the person that she loves. The man that he is and the man that he could be. She sees all his potential and she never leaves.

Everybody leaves. Everyone but her.

He doesn’t get to see Dr. Jean right away. He doesn’t mind, she’s creepy. He has to go to group therapy first and he’s not at all interested in participating. Every time it lands on him to speak, he passes. The therapist doesn’t force him to speak, just says “maybe next time” and moves on.

The nurses tell him that Dr. Jean would be receiving an evaluation of how he behaves in group and in the general population, and that it would be a good idea to participate. “Participation is how you get visitation!” She had said cheerfully.

The first few sessions he just listens to everyone else. Listening to how broken all these people are, they talk about why they’re here and how sad they are, and why they abuse substances. He still doesn't talk. He doesn’t want to talk to them, he just wants to talk to her. He’s not broken for being in love, no matter what his dad thinks.

He has a nightmare one night. He hears a loud screeching and metal scratching and something else he can’t quite make out. He tries to listen for it, tries to pinpoint what it is but he can’t figure it out. There’s bright lights and it’s fast and there’s banging but he can’t see anything. It’s like his brain has blocked it all out.

When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn’t quite remember it. That’s usually how it goes. In the nightmares with his mom, he remembers trying to save her but never from what, he feels that it’s different every time but he couldn't tell anyone how. He can’t describe it.

His session with Dr. Jean sneaks up on him. She asks him how it’s going and he shrugs, not really having anything to say.

She asks him if he’s enjoyed group, and he nods.

“You should participate next time.” He looks at his hands, the pain in his back starting back up.

“I don’t feel like it.” He says and he feels like a defiant five year old. He just wants to go home and it hasn’t even been a week.

“I can’t give you visitation if you don’t share.” She looks at him expectantly, “how about you start here. With me.” He sighs and unclasps his hands.

He tells her about his nightmare, about how they happen often and how he can never remember them. He tells her the bits and pieces of what he does remember but it’s not coherent.

“Why do you think you’re here, Rafe?” He looks at her like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“My dad wants me to be here.”

“Why does your dad want you to be here?”

“Because he doesn’t want me doing drugs and being dependent on my girlfriend. He wants me to be normal.” She hums and writes something down in the notebook she’s holding.

“You talk a lot about your girlfriend. Tell me about her.”

“Yeah,” he smiles softly when he thinks about her. “She’s everything. She’s perfect. She’s the love of my life. She sees me, she accepts me for who I am and loves me for it. I’ve never known love like that. Unconditional love. Not until her.” Doctor Jean scribbles something else down in her notebook.

“That’s a wonderful feeling. I understand why you would have such a hard time being away from it.” He nods.

“Do you remember what happened? The accident?” He furrows his brows at the change in subject.

“Yeah, my mom, yeah I remember the car accident.” More scribbling in her notebook, her eyes snap back and forth from his face to the page.

“How do you cope with that?”

“I mean, I was young so it was hard. I shut down and shut everyone out. I was a very sad kid but then my girl helped me through it.” When Doctor Jean doesn’t say anything he continues.

“She gave me a safe space to talk about it, she listened to me and held me as I finally let myself feel everything. She never lets me bottle anything up. She says it’s bad for me so I talk to her about it. I talk to her about everything. She’s the only person I do that with because she doesn’t judge me for my feelings.”

“That’s wonderful.” Doctor Jean says.

He spends the rest of the session talking about her.

He decides he’ll participate in group so he can see her next visitation day.

The days go by slowly, just as you think they would when he doesn't have anything to do but go to therapy and stare out a window. He doesn’t talk to any of the other patients. He has enough trauma he doesn’t need theirs too.

He forces himself to talk about his mom in group and it doesn’t feel good at all so he stops for the next few sessions which bites him in the ass.

He’s sitting across from Doctor Jean, her notebook in her lap as she gives him her fake smile.

“Have you talked to her?”

“What?” He asks, confused.

“Your girlfriend.”

“I can’t talk to her, I don’t have a phone, you took my phone.” He says frowning, “I wish I could talk to her. Do you think you could let her come visit me next week?” He bites the inside of his cheek. Doctor Jean sighs

“I would like you to participate in group more and then we’ll talk about that. I don’t think you’re ready.”

“I don’t think that;s fair.” He replies

“Participate in group, eat your food, don’t fight the nurses on your meds and we’ll see if you can handle the next steps.”

“I talked about my mom though.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for.” He leaves her office feeling shittier than when he arrived.

After therapy with Doctor Jean, he goes down to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. He hates the food here. Today it’s some sloppy wet looking mashed potatoes and bone dry unseasoned meat. For such a fancy place and for how much money his dad is probably paying to have him here, there should be good food.

Did Jean ever think that maybe he’s not eating because the food sucks and not because he’s depressed? Maybe he would do better if they let him talk to his girl. For five minutes. Just five minutes, that’s all he needs.

He should do what doctor Jean says and just participate more. He should eat his meals and suck it up and then they’ll let her come visit. He needs to see her. He misses her, her hair, her laugh, her soft skin, her eyes, the way she smiles at him, the way she looks at him like he is her whole world. He misses her.

He starts participating in group a little too eagerly. He talks about his life, and what he’s been going through since his mom died. He talks about how his girl makes him feel, how he feels the need to hold on to her as tight as possible because she’s the only person that understands him.

He talks and talks and talks so much that he knows this is the week he sees her.

When he goes into the session with doctor Jean and she says that he can’t see her because of some bullsit reason, he snaps.

He storms out of his session and back to his room. The next day he doesn’t leave his room. They can’t make him leave either, they come in and try to talk to him but he doesn’t move from his bed. He just wants to talk to her. Can’t they see that he misses her? That he needs her?

He doesn’t have a way to communicate with her so maybe if he goes on a hunger strike and doesn’t participate in group or go to therapy, they’ll let her visit.

Five minutes. That’s all he needs.

He needs to talk to her, to hear her voice. To hold her.

Another nurse comes in to offer him food and he tells her that he won’t eat until he gets to at least talk to his girlfriend. He doesn’t even feel hungry anymore, he just feels sad.

It’s been three weeks without her. The last time he saw her was the day his dad drove him up to the hospital. He told her it was better if she didn’t come with because it would make it that much harder on him. He kissed her goodbye and left her sitting on the edge of his bed in his room.

He doesn’t know if this will work. Doctor Jean could decide that since he’s pulling this stunt, he won’t get to see his girl for the remainder of the time that he’s here. If that’s the case he’ll just do the bare minimum for the next five weeks and when he gets picked up, he’ll ask his dad to bring her with him. His dad will allow it because at least he’ll be clean from the drugs. He'll be happy that the drugs are flushed from his system. Not her though, never her.

He wakes up from another nightmare, he’s sweating, his hands are shaking, and tears are streaming down his face. They’re getting more intense. He needs her.

He looks at the clock on the wall, it’s two in the morning. He rubs his eyes and slides off his bed. He knows everyone is in their rooms now and that there aren’t many nurses at night. He slowly opens the door of his room and peaks out into the dimly lit hallway.

He’s thinking about those phones he saw when he first arrived. He quickly and quietly makes his way through the hallway and up the few steps to the entrance. He looks to his right and sees the doors that lead to where he had last seen his dad. He ducks so that the person at the front desk doesn’t see him. All the office doors are closed so he moves to his left towards the end of the hall where the phones are.

Once he reaches the phones, he chooses the one that is least illuminated by the hall light and crouches down, pulling the phone down with him. His ears ring and his hands are still shaking. He puts the receiver to his ear and dials her number.

He hears a click on the other end and a breath.

“Hello?” he says

“Rafe?” She’s confused but her sweet voice fills the speaker and he closes his eyes to savor the moment.

“Hi baby.” he hums. He has tears in his eyes again because he misses her so much and he just wants to see her but he can’t because his dad hates him.

“Hi sweetie.” She says, she sounds sleepy.

“I woke you up. I’m sorry. I just needed to talk to you. I needed to hear your voice.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She giggles.

She asks him how he is and he tells her the truth. That he misses her and that he wishes he could see her and be with her. He asks her where she is and what she’s doing and she tells him that she misses him too and that she loves him and is sorry.

“Why are you sorry, baby?” He asks her, confusion lacing his tone.

“I’m sorry.” She says again

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon, we’ll be together again soon.”

“You’ll have to wait.” She says and his confusion just increases. He doesn’t know what she means by that. He’s about to ask when he sees a nurse headed his way.

“Shit, baby I gotta go. I love you. I love you so much.” She tells him she loves him too and he hurriedly stands up putting the phone back on its stand.

“What are you doing? Why are you by the phones?” The nurse grabs his arm and starts pulling him towards where he had come from.

“I just needed to talk to her okay?” He tells her and the grip on his arm loosens. A wave of something crosses her face but she shakes it off and keeps dragging him,

“Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Can I see her?” He asks desperately “please please can you bring her? Can I see her? I just need to see her. Just for five minutes. Just let me see her for five minutes.” He’s begging and he feels like he might start crying again.

The nurse looks at him sympathetically and doesn’t say anything. She just silently guides him to his room where he cries himself to sleep. He’s shaking and he’s so cold. He wonders if this is what detoxing feels like.

The next day he’s so emotionally exhausted he doesn’t want to get up but after the phone call he really wants to see his girl so he decides he’s going to put in an effort.

This fourth week he’s going to do so well that doctor Jean will allow him to see his girl.

He goes to breakfast and finishes everything off his plate, he takes his medication, and he makes his way to group. He talks in group and even answers questions from the lead therapist and some of the patients. The rest of the week is the same, he eats his food, he takes his meds, he participates in group. By the time his session with doctor Jean comes by he knows she won’t be able to stay no.

He sits across from her, her legs crossed, her notebook balanced on one knee, she’s happy with his progress this week, she tells him as much.

“I think you’re doing great, Rafe. Thank you for coming and thank you for sharing.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to see her next week?”

“Rafe-” he cuts her off

“Please, I've been to everything, I’ve been feeling better. I would really like to see her.”

“We should really talk about some things-” She’s cut off again but not by him, by her alarm that rings to signify that the session is over.

“Please think about it, doctor Jean.” He says standing up.

He leaves her office and goes about his day. He can’t wait to be out of this place. It’s not great.

He’s started noticing how, for lack of better word, weird, some of these people are. As he walks past the cafeteria he sees a guy that seems to not be doing so well. He remembers seeing him by the tree when he first arrived.

A lot of the people here seem to not be doing too well.

In group the next day, he listens as a new guy talks about something in his head and how there’s something wrong with him, how he’s delirious or delusional or something to do with his imagination. He doesn’t know nor does he care. He’s just so tired of being here.

He has another nightmare. The screeching metal, the fire, it’s hot, he can feel it this time. It’s getting closer, he can see more. He can smell it too, something is on fire. It’s starting to bother him a lot more. Before he could only see the blinding light but now if he turns to one end he just sees darkness, the other side has the fire and the blinding light and something else. He can’t make it out and he can’t make out the other sound. He wishes he could see everything. It’s driving him mad. He just wants to sleep.

He’s in his room reading a book when a nurse he’s never seen before tells him to come with him. Rafe nods and follows the nurse. He looks at the walls, how they go from white to yellow to a salmon. He realizes he’s never been in this part of the hospital.

He pushes open the doors in front of him and there’s a room full of tables, almost like you would imagine a prison visitation room to look like.

And she’s there. And he feels like he can breathe. He looks back to see if the nurse will say anything but he’s not standing there.

She’s here and she’s beautiful and she’s dressed all in white. She matches the freaking hospital.

“Why are you wearing white?” He asks, sitting across from her, a huge smile on his face.

“Why not?” She laughs, he feels her fingers ghosting over his.

“We match.” he laughs with her.

“We do.”

“I miss you.” He tells her.

“I know you do.” and he’s so distracted by how close she is and her pretty eyes and her flowy hair. She’s angelic. He misses her so much.

“I love you.” and a smile breaks out onto her face again.

“I know you do.” Their faces are so close now that he feels her lips move against his cheek as she speaks. It’s a stupid thing they do.

When they first started dating he was too shy to say how he felt about her. I know you do, became their way of expressing it and it soon morphed into other phrases they used.

“I’ll come be with you soon.” he smells her hair, something different, did she change her perfume?

“I know you will.” Their fingers are barely touching still.

There’s another guy sitting in the room and he clears his throat and he jumps away from her. He doesn’t know the rules, doesn’t know if he can touch her or not. Maybe it is like a prison.

“So how have you been?” He asks.

“I’ve been better.” It’s awkward. They’re being watched and he hates it.

“You?” He wants to run the pads of his fingers over her face and softly trace every part of it.

“I miss home.” She nods

“Of course.”

“I miss you. You’re home.” She smiles a soft but sad smile at that.

“Yeah.” He wants to ask about her perfume. He doesn’t touch her hair because the guy is still looking at them.

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

“What?” She pulls a strand towards her.

“Your hair was wrong with it?”

“ I don’t know. Nothing.” She laughs

“Weird.” She’s so pretty.

“You’re weird.” He’s so stupid when it comes to her. Never knows what to say. He doesn’t know how he got her.

“I know I am.” Her eyes shift to the gut across the room from them and then back to him.

“Did you eat today?”

“ I did.” He nods.

“good job, baby.” His heart flutters at her praise.

“You’ve been doing well. You’re participating in group.” She sniffs her hair and he smirks.

“I’m trying.” He looks at her hands, their fingertips a hair from touching, “how do you know about that?”

“I have my ways.”

“You talk to my doctor?”

“I guess.” She shrugs

“Well, yeah, I’m participating in group and I go to therapy”

“Have you talked about me yet?”

“A little bit,” he confesses.

“What about?”

“How obsessed I am with you and how much I love you and how you’re the only person who sees me and that I miss you so much that I find it hard to be without you.”

“Not for much longer, right?” She bites her lip anxiously and he wants to kiss her so bad.

“Not for much longer.” He agrees.

He feels the guy burning holes into him and he turns to look at him at the same time as she does.

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“I don’t think he’s looking at me like that.” She says, “I think he’s looking at you.”

“Do you think he thinks I’m weird?” He asks her taking his eyes off the man and putting them back on her.

“Doesn’t everybody?”

He laughs. He laughs because she is everything and she’s funny and she makes everything worth it. She makes everything better. He misses that.

“So they only gave me like ten minutes.” He sighs, knowing that means she has to go.

“It felt like five.” He tells her “every moment with you is fleeting.”

“I’ll see you soon.” She says getting up off the chair, the nurse comes in the room and he turns to look at him and then back to his girl and she’s gone, the door swinging from where she left.

“Wha-let’s go.” The nurse says. He looks out of breath. Like he’s been running laps.

The guy across the room is still looking at him and it fucking creeps him out. Whatever. He’s happier now. Only a few more weeks here and he can leave and be with her all the time.

He has his session with doctor Jean the next day and he walks in with a new pep in his step.

“Thank you for letting me see her.” Doctor Jean looks a little confused but then it clicks, she probably gets all her patients jumbled.

“Oh yes.” she says with a nod.

“She said that you talked to her about group.”

“Group. Yes, how did that go?”

“Good. It went well. She was acting a little strange but one of the other guys was watching us the whole time and I think this environment just creeps her out. I mean it creeps me out. It’s not the most comfortable. But it’s okay. I at least got to see her and I’ll be out in a few weeks.” Doctor Jean scribbles in her notebook and then puts it down, sighing.

“Have you considered you might have to stay a bit longer?” That takes him by surprise. He's doing great. He’s doing everything they tell him to do.

“No, why would I stay longer? I’m only supposed to be here for eight weeks. I don’t want to stay longer. You can’t make me stay longer.” He’s panicking slightly. He doesn’t want to be without her any more than he has been.

“Ultimately, it’s up to you.” Doctor Jean starts, “You’re an adult, but I know you take your dad’s recommendation strongly and he is suggesting that you stay a little longer.” His dad?

“No, no I don’t wanna. I don’t wanna stay a little longer. I don’t wanna stay at all. If I could go home right now that would be great.” His breathing gets faster, he’s trying to calm himself down.

Why does his dad want to keep him locked up?

“I wanna go home right now. I wanna go see my girl. I don’t wanna be here. You can’t make me stay here.”

“What if I told you that I don’t think you’ll be ready to leave in two weeks?” Rafe shakes his head.

“I am though. I’m ready to leave. I don’t want to be here. Why do I need to be here?”

“Breathe, Rafe.” Doctor Jean says and gets up to walk over to him. Rafe gets up then too. Not wanting to be there anymore.

“I wanna go to my room. I don’t wanna stay here.”

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll see you next time.” She says as he all but runs out of her office.

It doesn’t get better. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to talk to his dad and convince him that he doesn’t need to be here anymore. He wants his dad to see how well he’s doing. He’ll convince him.

He lets the days pass by, he eats his food, he takes his meds, he goes to group. On Thursday he goes to therapy. He doesn’t get a visit. He’s not allowed another one not yet. He panicked a little too much, his codependence shined through and doctor Jean thinks it best if they hold off. They don’t talk about extending his stay. Instead there’s a knock on the door. Doctor Jean gets off her chair and walks to open the door.

He’s surprised when his dad walks in. There’s not supposed to be a visit from anyone. He’s not earned it.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“Hey, buddy.” His dad says sitting next to him.

“Are you here to get me to stay longer because I don’t need that okay? I need to get back home to be with my girl and-and my friends. I don’t, I don’t wanna be here, please, dad.” He’s shaking again, his eyes sting. He wants to go home. His dad closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face.

“Rafe, you are not okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m taking my meds and I’m-I’m not as sad. I wanna go home. I’ll do better. I won’t- I’ll spend time with everybody okay? I’ll go outside and-please. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He almost growls at that.

“Yes, I am. How do you know I’m not fine?” He all but screams the question at his dad.

“Everyone calm down.” Doctor Jean interrupts and she shares a look with his dad. Ward nods.

“I wanna go home.” He repeats.

“Your dad thinks that it would just be better if you stayed a little longer.”

“No, why would I stay?” Doctor Jean looks at his dad again as if asking for some sort of permission.

“Who were you talking to on the payphone?” Doctor Jean says abruptly. His brows furrow.

“My girlfriend, I just wanted to talk to her. I needed to hear her voice for like five minutes.” Doctor Jean nods and his dad just listens, a blank look on his face.

“And who came to visit you?”

“My girl” She knows this. There’s something heavy in his stomach, that same uneasy feeling he had the first day he got here.

“What are you saying right now? Why are you asking me this?”

Doctor Jean takes a deep breath before the next words leave her mouth.

“The payphones don’t work.” The feeling in his stomach grows

“No, they do. I talked to her.” His palms start to sweat. The feeling spreads from his stomach to his chest.

“You didn’t have change and even if you did, they don’t work. They are not connected. This building is old. They don’t work, you didn’t talk to anyone.” Rafe shakes his head, swallowing the lump that’s growing in his throat.

Doctor Jean is making him feel crazy. He did talk to her. He picked up that phone and he dialed her number and she said hello. Did he say hello? He talked to her.

“I talked to her and she came to visit me.” He’s adamant about this, the nurse took me to the visiting room.”

“Rafe, you took yourself to the visiting room, there was no nurse.” He shakes his head, his hands feel numb.

“Nurse Shaw was taking you to lunch and you disappeared on his watch. Mr. Roby saw you in the visiting room.”

“Yeah, he was staring at me, weird. Me and my girl, we didn't know why.

“you didn’t see her. She did not come for a visit.” She’s lying. She was right in front of him and he felt her. Did he? Did he touch her?

“But you met her and talked to her about group. I remember she mentioned that because she was happy I was going.” His voice is cracking, he can barely get through what he wants to say. He can barely think.

“I never met her. I couldn’t have met her.” Doctor Jean insists.

“but she was here.” Why are they doing this to him?

“She’s never been here and you’ve not talked to her.”

“What are you saying? Why not? I remember- I remember-I remember she was here. What are you saying?” He’s stumbling through his words, his chest is heaving. The feeling that started in his stomach, all over his body now.

His head is pounding. It feels like his eyes are gonna pop out. His ears are ringing. He doesn’t know what they’re saying. They’re making him feel crazy, making him feel insane.

“Do you remember the car accident?”

“Yeah, with my mom.”

“No buddy.” His dad speaks up for the first time since doctor Jean started interrogating him. He looks at his dad.

“What?”

“The car accident last fall. With the semi truck and your jeep. Remember the bright light you talk about? The fire?” His nightmares.

“What are you talking about? What accident in the fall?”

“You were driving and the truck blew a stop sign and crashed into her side-” He feels sick.

“Stop.” he can’t breathe he can’t breathe.

He can hear the screeching of the metal, can smell the fire, can see the lights. Everything.

“No stop, no, no accident happened.” He says frantically and he gets up to go stand by the window, to look at the fields surrounding the hospital.

“This is a trauma response. You are blocking the accident out because you don’t want to remember the loss and the pain and the hurt in your heart. It’s your brain trying to protect itself from the trauma, from everything that you’ve been through.” He’s shaking his head at doctor Jean’s words.

“What are you talking about? Why are you bringing that up? I don’t wanna talk about that. It’s fine. I’m fine and everything’s fine.” He yells.

“The payphones don’t work. You were alone in the visiting room. What do you think that means?”

“I don’t get it. I don’t understand.” He looks at his dad and Ward looks at him with such sadness. A sadness he hasn’t seen in him since his mom died. Like he’s lost Rafe too.

Rafe and the sounds of metal screeching against pavement. The car flipping and sliding. And something else.

Rafe! Rafe! Rafe! Her screams. Screeching metal and the sound of her screams as the truck collided into them and sent them flying. Screeching metal crushing and her screams of pain and she’s crying and he’s trying to get to her and he can’t reach her because she’s crushed between two cars and he’s trapped upside down hanging from his seatbelt.

The truck's headlights blinding him, the ignition on fire, her hair, gasoline, burning. And they’re stuck.

The sound of footsteps and his screams to help her first, to get her out.

Please! Please!

He remembers the feeling as they cut him out and the pain of the heat from the fire. He remembers crawling to her, holding her hand. Crying.

“Ambulance is 5 minutes out! 10 minutes tops.”

I love you

Just five more minutes, baby please.

I love you

I know you do

I’ll miss you

Stop

I’ll miss you

I know you will

Rafe

Just hold on, just five minutes okay?

I don’t-

You’ll have to wait

Not for much longer though, right?

Not for much longer. Five minutes. Just five

I love you.

Just give me five minutes

Rafe go

No. I love you.

The fire, the blood, her grip on his hand loosening.

We’ll be together again soon.

I need five more minutes with her. five more just five more

I would give anything for five more minutes. Please! Please!

Rafe

Sweetie

“No!” He screams at both his dad and doctor Jean.

He blocked everything out. How was that possible? How did he block everything out?

“She’s at home, my dad- right I talked to her. She’s okay right?” His shoulders start shaking as sobs of grief release like a tsunami through his body. His dad rushes to him as he collapses into him.

“I talked to her dad? Dad please.”

“She died, Rafe.”

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you

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kyunghwannie · 1 month ago

Text

"Collateral Temptation"

Yoo Jeongyeon x Male! Reader.

➤Tags/Genres: Begging, Submission, Biting, Reverse Cowgirl, Public Sex, Hair Pulling, Creampie, Anal Sex, Overstimulation, Face-Sitting, Dirty Talk, Breast Worship, Sensation Play, Doggy Style, Mutual Masturbation, Choking, Face Fucking, Mirror Sex

➤Teaser: She swore it was just a favor. One night, one weakness, buried in motel sheets and sealed with silence. But temptation wears a suit now, speaks her name like a secret, and every "thank you" tastes more like surrender. Her vows didn’t break—she slowly unstitched them herself, thread by aching thread. ➤Note: This was requested to be a rather hot and passionate smut of corruption of a pure wife Jeongyeon. So i tried to do so. Iam not that good with a more corrupting or ruining type of plot yet so iam still learning but hey If there's Jeongyeon, everything is fire. ➤ Go read my other Jeongyeon fic "Second Chances" Part-1 & Part-2

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The café was quiet, the kind of place where the hum of the espresso machine and the occasional clink of porcelain cups filled the silence. Jeongyeon sat across from you, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her half-finished iced americano. The usual confidence in her posture was gone—replaced by something heavier, something tired.

"I didn’t think I’d be the one asking for help like this," she admitted, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. You leaned forward slightly, keeping your tone light but firm. "You’re not asking. I offered."

She exhaled sharply, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Still feels shitty." "It’s not." You tapped the folder between you—the one with the loan restructuring plans, the numbers you’d spent nights adjusting just to make sure she wouldn’t drown in interest. "This is what friends do."

Jeongyeon’s fingers stilled. "Friends," she repeated, like she was testing the word. Then she shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "You’re too good at this. At… everything."

You shrugged. "Just decent at math and stubborn enough to argue with bankers."

That got a real laugh out of her, short but bright. "God, I missed this." The second the words left her mouth, her expression flickered—like she hadn’t meant to say it.

The air between you shifted. You could’ve played it off. Should’ve, probably. But something in the way she looked at you—like she was seeing you for the first time in years—made the words slip out before you could stop them. "Yeah? What part?"

Jeongyeon blinked. "What?"

"What did you miss?" You kept your voice easy, like it was just banter, but the weight of the question hung there anyway.

She hesitated. Then, slowly, her fingers curled around her glass. "Talking to someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m…" She trailed off.

"Like you’re what?"

"Like I’m failing." The admission was quiet, almost ashamed. Your chest tightened. "You’re not." Jeongyeon scoffed. "My husband sure thinks so."

There it was—the bitterness, the frustration. You’d heard it in her voice over the phone, seen it in the way her texts got shorter lately. But hearing it now, raw and unfiltered, was different. You hesitated. Then, carefully, you said it. "Maybe he’s the one failing you."

Her head snapped up. You held her gaze, even as your pulse kicked up. "Just saying. You’re Jeongyeon. You don’t fail. You just… haven’t been given the right support."

For a long moment, she just stared at you. Then, quietly: "That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in months."

The silence stretched. The café noise faded into background static. Then, Jeongyeon leaned back in her chair, studying you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. "You always this smooth when you’re saving people?"

You grinned, deflecting. "Only when they’re pretty." It was a joke. Mostly. But the way her breath hitched—just for a second—wasn’t. Jeongyeon recovered fast, rolling her eyes. "Shut up." But her cheeks were pink.

You laughed, leaning back too. "Make me." he second the words left your mouth, you realized your mistake. Because Jeongyeon’s eyes darkened. Just a fraction. Just enough. And just like that—the air between you wasn’t just shifted. It was charged.

Jeongyeon swirled the melting ice in her glass, the condensation dripping onto the table. She didn’t look up when she spoke next. "Why are you doing this?" The question hung between you, heavier than she probably intended.

You tilted your head. "The loan stuff? I told you—"

"No." She cut you off, finally meeting your eyes. "Not just the paperwork. All of it. The calls. The favors. The way you just… show up." Her voice wavered, just slightly. "Why?"

You could’ve given her a dozen easy answers. Because we’re friends. Because it’s nothing. Because I had time. But the way she was looking at you—like she already knew those were lies—made your throat tighten. So you told the truth. "Because I like you."

Jeongyeon froze. You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck like it was some casual confession. "I mean, come on. You know that. I’ve been obvious since forever."

She stared. "That’s not funny."

"Not trying to be." You held her gaze, even as your pulse hammered. "But it’s whatever. I didn’t say it to make things weird. Just… answering your question."

Jeongyeon’s fingers tightened around her glass. "You never said anything."

"Yeah, well." You shrugged. "You got married." The words landed like a punch. Her breath hitched. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The café noise—the chatter, the clinking cups—felt miles away. Then, quietly, Jeongyeon said: "That’s it?"

You blinked. "What?"

"You just… let it go?" There was something raw in her voice now, something almost accusatory. "You never—" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

You leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Jeongyeon. What was I supposed to do?"

She didn’t answer. So you kept going, softer now. "I wasn��t gonna be that guy. The one who ruins shit because he can’t handle his feelings. You were happy. That mattered more."

Jeongyeon let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Happy." The bitterness in her voice made your chest ache. You hesitated. Then, carefully: "…Are you? Happy?" She looked away. That was answer enough.

You exhaled slowly. "Look. I didn’t tell you this to mess with your head. I just…" You ran a hand through your hair. "I don’t want anything from you, okay? This isn’t some fucking transaction. I helped because I wanted to. That’s it."

Jeongyeon’s jaw clenched. "That’s bullshit." You stiffened. "What?"

"You don’t just do things like this without wanting something back." Her voice was low, almost trembling. "Everyone wants something." The hurt in her words—the certainty—made something in you snap.

"Okay, fine." You leaned in, lowering your voice. "You wanna know what I want? I wanted to see you smile again. I wanted you to stop looking at your phone like it was gonna bite you. I wanted—" You caught yourself, forcing a breath. "Fuck. It doesn’t matter. Point is, I don’t expect anything. Not from you."

Jeongyeon’s lips parted. For a second, she just stared at you, her eyes wide, searching. Then, slowly, something in her expression shifted. "…Liar."

The word wasn’t angry. It was soft. Almost wondering. Jeongyeon held your gaze, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You do want something."

Your mouth went dry. She was right. You wanted her. Not like this—not in some messy, guilty way. But it was too late for that now. The truth was out, hanging between you like a live wire. And the way she was looking at you? Like she knew. Like maybe—just maybe—she wanted it too.

You scoffed, shaking your head before a soft chuckle escaped your lips—light, disarming, the kind of laugh that made your eyes crinkle at the corners. Jeongyeon blinked, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "God, you’re stubborn," you mused, propping your chin lazily on your palm, fingers drumming against your cheek. "Fine. Since you’re so convinced—what exactly do you think I want, Jeongyeon?"

The question hung between you, playful but edged with something heavier. She stiffened, her fingers tightening around her glass again. For a second, she looked like she might deflect—laugh it off, change the subject, retreat behind that familiar wall of hers. But then her gaze flickered down to your lips, just for a heartbeat, before snapping back up. "I don’t know," she muttered, but the way her voice dipped—lower, rougher—betrayed her.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Then why’d you call me a liar?"

Jeongyeon’s jaw worked. "Because you are."

"Mmm." You hummed, leaning in just slightly, close enough that if either of you shifted, your knees might brush under the table. "Or maybe you’re just hoping I am."

Her breath hitched. You grinned, pulling back before the tension could snap. "Relax. I told you—I don’t expect anything. Not a damn thing." You swirled your drink, ice clinking. "Helping you wasn’t some grand scheme. I just…" You shrugged, voice softening. "I like seeing you okay. That’s all."

Jeongyeon stared at you, her expression unreadable. Then, abruptly, she let out a sharp exhale. "You’re infuriating."

You blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, you." She dragged a hand through her hair, frustration bleeding into her voice. "You can’t just—say shit like that and act like it’s nothing."

You held up your hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I’m not the one reading into it."

"Bullshit." Her eyes flashed. "You know what you’re doing."

You paused. Then, slowly, your smile faded. "Do I?" The quiet sincerity in your voice made her freeze. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick, charged—like the static before a storm.

Then, Jeongyeon did something unexpected. She laughed. It wasn’t her usual bright, snorting laugh. This was quieter. Rougher. Almost disbelieving. "God," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "This is so fucked."

You raised an eyebrow. "What is?"

She met your eyes, her own dark with something you couldn’t name. "You. Me. This." She gestured vaguely between you. "The fact that you’re sitting here, looking at me like—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. You waited. Jeongyeon exhaled sharply. "Like you still see me."

The raw honesty in her voice punched the air from your lungs. You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until finally, Jeongyeon pushed back her chair with a scrape of wood against tile. "I should go."

You didn’t stop her. But as she turned to leave, you called out, voice low: "Jeongyeon." She paused, shoulders tense. You smiled, small and sad. "For the record? I always see you." Her breath audibly caught. Then, without another word, she walked away.

Jeongyeon stopped mid-step. Her back was still turned to you, shoulders rigid under the thin fabric of her blouse. The café door was just a few feet away—freedom, escape, the easy way out—but something rooted her in place.

You watched the tension coil in her frame, the way her fingers flexed at her sides like she was fighting with herself. Then, slowly, she turned around.

Her expression was unreadable as she strode back to the table and dropped into her seat with a quiet thud. She didn’t speak. Just leveled you with a look—not angry, not frustrated, but something far more dangerous. Calculating.

You raised an eyebrow. "Change your mind?"

She ignored the question, leaning forward until the table pressed into her forearms. "What do you really want?"

The demand was sharp, stripped of any pretense. You couldn’t help it—you laughed. Jeongyeon’s glare deepened. "This isn’t funny."

"It’s a little funny," you admitted, grinning as you mirrored her posture, elbows on the table. "You’re acting like I’m holding a gun to your head. Relax. I already told you—"

"And I don’t believe you." Her voice was low, insistent. "No one does something like this without wanting something in return."

You sighed, tilting your head. "Okay, fine. Let’s say you’re right. What do you think I want?"

Her jaw tightened. "I’m not playing this game."

"Not a game," you said lightly. "Just curious what’s going on in that head of yours."

Jeongyeon exhaled through her nose, fingers tapping impatiently against the table. Then, abruptly, she leaned back, crossing her arms. "You’re enjoying this."

You blinked. "What?"

"This." She gestured between you. "Watching me squirm. Knowing I can’t just—walk away from this."

The accusation hung in the air, sharp enough to cut. For the first time since she’d sat back down, your smile faded. "That’s not what this is."

"Then what is it?" The question was a challenge. A dare. You held her gaze, the humor draining from your voice. "You really need an answer that badly?"

Jeongyeon didn’t flinch. "Yes." Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. Then, slowly, you shrugged. "Fine. If you’re insisting so much…" You leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur. "I’ll take whatever you think is fair. Whatever best you can offer."

Her breath hitched. You grinned, leaning back before the tension could snap. "Happy now?" Jeongyeon stared at you, her expression unreadable. Then, after a beat, she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You’re joking."

"Am I?" She studied you for a long moment—searching for the punchline, the trap, the ulterior motive. But when she found nothing, something in her posture shifted. "…You’re serious."

You shrugged again, feigning nonchalance. "I mean, you’re the one who didn’t want to believe me when I said I didn’t want anything. So." You spread your hands. "There’s your answer." Jeongyeon exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "This is ridiculous."

"Yep." You popped the ‘p,’ grinning. "But hey, at least now you can stop overthinking it." She shot you a look. "I’m not—"

"You are," you interrupted, laughing. "It’s written all over your face."

Jeongyeon opened her mouth—probably to argue—but then stopped. For a second, she just looked at you, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then, quietly, she said: "You’re really not going to ask for anything."

It wasn’t a question. You met her gaze, all traces of humor gone. "No." The word hung between you, simple and final. Jeongyeon swallowed. And for the first time since she’d walked back to this table—for the first time in years, maybe—she looked lost.

The air between you grew heavier with each passing second of silence. Jeongyeon’s fingers traced idle patterns on the tabletop, her gaze fixed somewhere past your shoulder—anywhere but directly at you. You studied the tension in her jaw, the way her throat worked as she swallowed hard. "So," you finally broke the quiet, voice softer now. "What are you gonna do?"

Her eyes flicked back to yours, sharp. "About what?"

You held her stare, unflinching. "About this." A vague gesture between the two of you. "About your husband. About… whatever it is you’re feeling right now."

Jeongyeon let out a slow breath through her nose, her shoulders tightening. "I don’t know." The admission came out strained, almost angry—but not at you. At herself. You hesitated, then went for the question that had been burning in your chest since she sat back down. "…How bad is it, really? With him."

Her laugh was hollow. "What, you want details?"

"I want the truth." You kept your voice steady, even as your pulse thrummed. "Not whatever polished version you think you’re supposed to give."

Jeongyeon’s fingers stilled. For a long moment, she just stared at her half-empty glass, lips pressed into a thin line. Then— "He looks at me like I’m a problem he can’t solve." Her voice was quiet, rough at the edges. "Like every bill, every late payment, every fucking stress in our lives is somehow my fault." She dragged a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. "And the worst part? I let him. Because some stupid, pathetic part of me still thinks—" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

Your chest ached. "Thinks what?" Her eyes met yours, dark and wounded. "That if I just try harder, it’ll fix itself." The raw honesty in her words hit like a punch. You’d known things weren’t perfect—how could they be, with the way she’d been carrying that weight for months?—but hearing it laid bare like this?

You leaned forward without thinking, your voice dropping. "Jeongyeon. Listen to me. None of this is on you." She scoffed. "Easy for you to say."

"No, it’s not." The words came out sharper than you intended. "Because I’m sitting here watching someone I—" You caught yourself, jaw tightening. "Watching someone important tear herself apart over shit she can’t control. And it’s killing me."

Jeongyeon went very, very still. The silence stretched, thick with everything left unsaid. Then, quietly, she asked: "Why does it matter to you so much?"

There it was. The question you’d both been dancing around since she walked back to this table. You could’ve lied. Could’ve brushed it off with a joke or a deflection. But the way she was looking at you—like she already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway—left no room for half-truths.

So you told her. "Because it’s you." Simple. Devastating. "It’s always been you." Jeongyeon’s breath audibly hitched. And just like that—the fragile dam between you cracked.

Jeongyeon's fingers tightened around her glass, knuckles whitening under the pressure. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as she avoided your gaze, chewing on her lower lip in that nervous habit she'd never quite shaken.

Then, abruptly, she spoke.

"I could fuck you."

Your drink nearly slipped from your hand.

She said it so casually—like she was discussing the weather—but the storm in her eyes betrayed her. This wasn't casual. This wasn't simple. This was calculated.

"What?" Your voice came out strangled.

Jeongyeon leaned forward, the table pressing into her forearms as she held your stare without flinching. "You heard me." A beat. "As thanks. For helping me."

The words hung between you, sharp and dangerous.

You should've laughed it off. Should've made a joke, defused the bomb she'd just dropped between you. But the way she was looking at you—eyes dark and defiant, like she was daring you to call her bluff—made your throat go dry.

So you played along. "That's your solution?" Your lips quirked, though there was no humor in it. "Seriously?"

Jeongyeon shrugged, too casual to be genuine. "You said you'd take whatever I could offer. So." Another shrug, but her fingers trembled against the glass. "There it is."

Liar. You saw right through her. This wasn't about gratitude. This wasn't some transactional exchange. This was Jeongyeon, standing at the edge of a cliff and daring herself to jump. You exhaled slowly, forcing your voice steady. "You don't owe me anything."

"I know that," she snapped, but the fire in her words was undercut by the way her breath hitched. "That's not—" She cut herself off, dragging a hand through her hair in frustration. Silence. Then, quieter: "Just say yes or no."

You studied her—the flush creeping up her neck, the way she couldn't quite meet your eyes now. The want she was trying so desperately to mask as something else. And you made your choice. "No."

Her head jerked up, eyes wide. "What?"

You held her gaze, unwavering. "If you're going to proposition me, Jeongyeon, do it because you want to. Not because you think you owe me." A beat. "Not because you're trying to punish yourself."

Her breath caught. Bullseye. For a long moment, she just stared at you, lips parted slightly—like she couldn't decide whether to argue or bolt. Then, slowly, something in her expression shifted.

"...What if I do want to?"

The whispered admission hung between you, fragile and raw.

You didn't move. Didn't breathe.

Jeongyeon swallowed hard, vulnerability flashing across her face before she steeled herself again. "What if this wasn't about debts or gratitude?" Her voice dropped, rough around the edges. "What if it was just... me?"

The air between you grew thicker, heavier—like the charged stillness before a lightning strike.

And then, before you could respond— Jeongyeon reached across the table.

Her fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first, then firmer as she laced them together. The contact sent a jolt through you, electric and undeniable.

Her gaze never left yours. "Tell me to stop," she murmured.

You didn't. Your fingers remained entwined with hers, the warmth of her skin searing into you like a brand. The rational part of your mind screamed at you—pull away, shut this down, don’t be the one who ruins everything.

But the other part—the selfish, aching, weak part that had loved her for longer than you cared to admit—won.

You didn’t tell her to stop.

Jeongyeon exhaled, shaky and uneven, like she’d been holding her breath. Then, slowly, deliberately, her thumb brushed over your knuckles in a slow, aching sweep.

“…Coward,” she murmured, but there was no bite in it. Just something unbearably soft.

You huffed a quiet laugh, even as your pulse pounded in your throat. “Takes one to know one.”

Her lips twitched. “Maybe.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world outside this table—the café, the noise, the life waiting beyond this fragile, stolen moment—faded into irrelevance.

Then, Jeongyeon’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Come home with me.”

The words weren’t a question. They weren’t even an invitation.

They were a decision.

Your breath stalled. “Jeongyeon—”

“Not his place,” she clarified, voice low. “Mine. The apartment I got after—” She cut herself off, jaw tightening. “Just mine.”

The implication hung between you, heavy and unmistakable.

She was choosing this.

Choosing you.

The last shred of your resistance crumbled.

You squeezed her hand back, your voice rough. “Yeah. Okay.”

Jeongyeon’s eyes darkened—relief, want, something dangerously close to desperation flickering in their depths.

Neither of you spoke as she stood, pulling you up with her. Her fingers stayed tangled with yours as she led you out of the café, the weight of what you were about to do settling over you both like a storm cloud.

And for the first time in years—

You didn’t look back.

Time Skip – Jeongyeon’s Apartment

The door barely clicked shut behind you before Jeongyeon’s hands were on you—impatient, desperate, her fingers fisting in the front of your shirt as she shoved you back against the wall.

“Fuck,” she breathed against your lips, already chasing your mouth again before you could even catch your breath.

You let her.

God, you let her.

Her kiss was messy, all teeth and clumsy urgency, like she was trying to outrun the thoughts in her head. You groaned into it, hands finding her waist as she pressed against you, her body flush against yours.

“This—” she gasped between kisses, “—is just—once—”

You knew the lie for what it was.

But you played along anyway.

“Yeah,” you murmured against her lips, letting your hands slide down to grip her hips, pulling her closer. “Just once.”

Jeongyeon made a noise—half frustration, half something broken—before surging forward again, her tongue sliding against yours in a wet, sloppy drag. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to sting, and you groaned, your grip on her tightening.

She was everywhere—her thigh slotting between yours, her nails scraping down your back, her breath hot and uneven against your skin.

“You—” she bit at your lower lip, “—better not—fucking—regret this—”

You laughed, rough and breathless, before flipping her around, pinning her against the wall this time.

“You’re the one who should be worried about regrets,” you muttered, ducking your head to nip at her neck.

Jeongyeon gasped, her head thumping back against the wall as your teeth grazed her pulse point.

“Shit—”

Her hands scrambled at your shoulders, your back, like she couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. You didn’t give her the chance to choose—your mouth found hers again, swallowing her moans as your hands slid under her shirt, palms skimming up the warm skin of her stomach.

She arched into your touch with a whine, her body betraying her far more than her words ever could.

“Still just gratitude?” you teased against her lips, thumb brushing over the underside of her breast.

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched.

Then, with a growl, she shoved you back—just far enough to yank her shirt over her head and toss it aside.

“Shut up,” she panted, eyes dark. “And touch me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched as your hands slid up her bare waist, thumbs brushing the delicate underside of her breasts. Her skin burned under your touch, every inch of her trembling with restraint—like she was fighting the urge to either shove you away or beg for more.

“Fuck,” she gasped when your fingers traced the lace of her bra, her nails digging into your shoulders. “You—ah—you talk too much.”

You smirked against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there just to feel her shudder. “Me? You’re the one who can’t stop whining.”

She let out a sharp, breathless laugh before catching your lips again in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Her tongue slid against yours, hot and demanding, and you groaned, hands tightening on her hips.

“Hnngh—shut up,” she panted between kisses, her voice already wrecked. “Just—fuck—just touch me already.”

You obliged, one hand sliding up to cup her breast through the lace, thumb circling her nipple until it peaked under your touch. Jeongyeon arched into your palm with a broken moan, her head falling back against the wall. “There,” she breathed, hips grinding against yours. “God, yes—just like that—”

You chuckled, leaning in to lick a stripe up her throat. “So fucking needy.”

She whined, high and desperate, her fingers tangling in your hair to yank your mouth back to hers. The kiss was sloppy, all teeth and clashing tongues, but neither of you cared—not when she was melting against you like this, not when every ragged breath she took was yours.

“You’re mine,” you growled against her lips, hands sliding down to grip the waistband of her jeans. “Just for tonight.”

Jeongyeon’s breath stuttered, her eyes fluttering shut for a second before she forced them open again—dark, hungry.

“Yours,” she agreed, voice rough. “Fuck—just—”

You didn’t let her finish.

With a sharp tug, you popped the button of her jeans, fingers sliding beneath the fabric to tease the damp lace of her panties. Jeongyeon jolted, a strangled gasp escaping her as your fingertips brushed over her. “Wet,” you murmured, dragging your fingers along her slit just to hear her whimper. “All for me?”

She nodded frantically, hips canting into your touch. “Y-yes—please—”

The please nearly undid you. Jeongyeon never begged. But here she was, trembling in your arms, her body pliant and yours—even if just for tonight.

You kissed her again, slow and filthy, as your fingers finally slipped beneath the lace, tracing her folds with agonizing slowness.

“Mmmf—!” She broke the kiss with a gasp, her thighs clamping around your hand. “Fuck, don’t—don’t tease—”

You chuckled, nipping at her jaw. “Who’s teasing?” Then you slid a finger inside her. Jeongyeon screamed.

You pulled back suddenly, your fingers slipping out of her with a wet sound that made her whimper. Jeongyeon’s eyes flew open, dazed and confused, her body still arching toward you—chasing the touch you’d just denied her.

“W-what—?” Her voice was wrecked, breathless.

You smirked, stepping back just far enough to lean against the opposite wall, arms crossing over your chest. “Show me.”

Jeongyeon blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Your gaze dropped pointedly to where her jeans were still undone, her panties damp and clinging. “Touch yourself. Put on a show for me.”

Her breath hitched, cheeks flushing darker. For a second, she just stared at you, lips parted—like she couldn’t decide whether to protest or obey.

Then, slowly, her fingers trailed down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her panties. “Fuck,” she breathed as her fingertips brushed her clit, her hips jerking at the contact.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched, your own pulse pounding as Jeongyeon’s fingers began to move in slow, teasing circles. “H-happy?” she gasped, her other hand bracing against the wall for support. You smirked. “Not yet.”

Jeongyeon groaned, but her fingers didn’t stop—if anything, they moved faster, her touch growing more desperate as she teased herself. “Ahh—!” Her head fell back, her thighs trembling. “F-fuck, I—hnngh—”

You stayed where you were, drinking in the sight of her—the way her chest heaved, the way her fingers glistened as they slid lower, dipping inside herself with a broken moan.

“Mmmf—!” Her hips rolled against her own hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Shit, I—I can’t—!”

You finally pushed off the wall, stepping closer—but not touching. Not yet.

“Yes, you can,” you murmured, your voice rough. “Come on, Jeongyeon. Let me see you fall apart.”

Her eyes met yours, dark and pleading—and then she did.

Jeongyeon's fingers worked faster now, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fucked herself with desperate, slick strokes. The wet sounds of her fingers plunging in and out filled the room, mixing with her choked-off moans.

"F-fuck—!" Her head tipped back against the wall, her free hand gripping her own breast roughly, pinching her nipple through the lace of her bra. "Hahh—shit—!"

You stayed where you were, watching her unravel—her thighs trembling, her stomach muscles clenching with every thrust of her fingers. She was close. So fucking close. "That's it," you murmured, your own voice thick with want. "Let me see you come."

Jeongyeon whimpered, her hips jerking erratically as she chased her release. "I—ahh—I can't—!"

"Yes, you can." Your hands flexed at your sides, aching to touch her, but you held back. "Do it. Now."

A broken cry tore from her throat as her back arched off the wall, her body locking up for one suspended second—before she shattered. "NGH—!"

Her thighs clamped around her own hand as she came, her entire body trembling through the waves of pleasure. You watched, transfixed, as her fingers slowed but didn't stop, dragging out every last shuddering aftershock until she was panting, boneless against the wall.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was her ragged breathing. Then, slowly, Jeongyeon lifted her head—her gaze meeting yours, dark and hungry. "Your turn."

The air between you crackled with something electric—charged, dangerous. Jeongyeon’s gaze dropped, her lips parting slightly as she took in the sight of your straining underwear, the fabric stretched taut over the thick outline of your cock. A slow, shaky exhale escaped her.

"Fuck," she breathed, voice rough. You smirked, fingers hooking into the waistband of your boxers. "Problem?"

She didn’t answer. Just watched, transfixed, as you dragged the fabric down inch by torturous inch—until finally, with a sharp snap of elastic, you freed yourself.

Your cock sprang out, thick and heavy, the flushed tip already glistening.

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched. For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence stretched, thick with tension, as her eyes traced every vein, every twitch of your length.

Then, slowly, she reached out—her fingers hovering just above your shaft, trembling slightly. "You’re—" She swallowed hard. "You’re bigger than I thought."

You chuckled darkly, your pulse roaring in your ears. "Gonna be a problem?"

Her gaze flicked up to yours, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. "No," she murmured. "Just means I’ll feel you more."

Her fingers finally made contact—feather-light at first, just a tentative brush of her fingertips along your length.

You hissed through your teeth, your cock jerking in her grip. Jeongyeon smirked, her touch growing bolder as she wrapped her hand around you, giving an experimental stroke. "Fuck," you groaned, your hips bucking into her grip.

She hummed, her thumb swiping over your leaking tip, spreading the precum in slow, teasing circles. "You like that?" she murmured, her voice low and husky.

You didn’t answer—couldn’t, not when her fingers were tightening around you, not when her touch was sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Jeongyeon leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me how bad you want me."

Jeongyeon's fingers tightened around your cock, her thumb pressing deliberately against the swollen head as she dragged her palm down your length in one slow, filthy stroke. A bead of precum smeared across her skin, glistening under the dim light.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice dripping with something dark and teasing. "So fucking hard just from watching me. Pathetic."You gritted your teeth, your hips jerking into her grip involuntarily. "Shut the fuck up." She laughed—low, breathy—her fingers squeezing just enough to make you groan. "Make me."

Your hands shot out, gripping her waist as you yanked her forward, your cock sliding against her stomach, leaving a wet trail against her skin. "You want me to shut you up?" you growled, your voice rough. "Then stop talking and open that pretty fucking mouth."

Jeongyeon's breath hitched, her lips parting slightly—just enough for you to see the flash of her tongue. "Or what?" she challenged, her fingers still lazily stroking you. "You gonna force me?"

You smirked, your grip tightening on her hips. "Wouldn't have to force you. You've been begging for it since we walked in."

Her eyes darkened, her free hand coming up to grip your wrist—not to push you away, but to anchor herself. "Prove it," she whispered.

You didn't hesitate. One hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back as you shoved your cock past her lips, the tip hitting the back of her throat with a wet choke.

Jeongyeon's eyes watered instantly, her nails digging into your thighs as she gagged around you—but she didn't pull away. "That's it," you groaned, your fingers tightening in her hair. "Take it, slut."

She whimpered, her throat fluttering around you as you pushed deeper, her spit dripping down your shaft.

You pulled back just enough to let her gasp for air before slamming back in, her lips stretched obscenely around your girth. "Fuck—yes," you hissed, your hips jerking forward. "Just like that. Suck it."

Jeongyeon's moan vibrated around you, her tongue pressing against the underside of your cock as she tried to take you deeper. "Good girl," you praised darkly, your fingers tightening in her hair. "Now swallow."

Jeongyeon’s lips were slick and swollen around you, her throat fluttering in ragged, uneven spasms as she fought to take you deeper. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, her mascara smudged in dark streaks beneath her lashes—ruined, just like you wanted her.

She pulled back with a wet gasp, her chest heaving, but you didn’t give her a second to recover. Your fingers twisted tighter in her hair, yanking her head back until her neck arched, her breath hitching in warning.

"Did I say you could stop?" you growled.

Her lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate stripe up your shaft. "Make up your fucking mind," she rasped, her voice wrecked. "You want me to suck it or choke on it?"

Cheeky bitch.

You grinned, sharp and predatory, before shoving her back down onto your cock in one brutal thrust.

Jeongyeon gagged, her nails digging into your thighs hard enough to leave marks, but she didn’t fight you. No—her eyes rolled back, her throat convulsing around you as if her body craved the punishment.

"That’s what I want," you muttered, watching the tears well in her lashes as you fucked her mouth in slow, filthy strokes. "You look so fucking pretty like this—lips stretched, throat bulging. Bet you’d let me ruin you for anyone else, huh?"

She moaned around you, the vibration sending a jolt of heat straight to your gut. "Yeah, you would," you continued, your voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Because you’re mine tonight. My cock’s the only thing you’re allowed to think about. The only thing you’re allowed to feel."

Jeongyeon’s fingers clenched tighter, her hips shifting restlessly against the floor—fuck, was she grinding against nothing? You chuckled, pulling her off just enough to let her gasp for air. "Pathetic. You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?"

Her chest heaved, her lips glistening with spit and precum. "Fuck you," she wheezed, but the way her thighs squeezed together betrayed her.

"Oh, I will," you promised, dragging your thumb across her bottom lip. "But first? You’re gonna swallow every last drop like the greedy little whore you are."

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched—and then, with a glare that could’ve melted steel, she lunged forward, taking you down her throat in one smooth, brutal motion.

Fuck. You saw stars.

The air between you was thick with the sounds of wet, sloppy gasps and the lewd squelch of Jeongyeon's throat struggling to accommodate you. Her lips were stretched obscenely around your girth, spit dripping down her chin in glistening strands that caught the dim light. You watched, transfixed, as her eyelashes fluttered—not in protest, but in something dangerously close to surrender.

Your fingers remained tangled in her hair, not yanking, not forcing—just guiding, your grip firm enough to remind her who was in control.

Jeongyeon's hands, which had been clawing at your thighs moments ago, now rested limply against them, her fingers twitching occasionally as she fought the instinct to push you away. Her throat convulsed around you in tight, involuntary spasms, each one sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

You exhaled slowly, your free hand coming up to trace the tear tracks on her cheeks with your thumb. "You're doing so well," you murmured, your voice low and steady.

Her eyes flicked up to yours, hazy with lust and something else—something raw and unfiltered. A choked whimper vibrated around your cock as you pushed deeper, her nose brushing against your stomach.

You held her there for a moment, letting her adjust, feeling the way her breath hitched through her nose in shallow, frantic pants. Then, with deliberate slowness, you pulled back until just the tip remained between her lips. Jeongyeon gasped, her chest heaving as she gulped down air, her tongue darting out to swipe weakly at your slit. "Again," you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument.

She didn't hesitate. Her mouth enveloped you once more, her head bobbing in uneven, desperate strokes as she tried to take you deeper, faster—as if she needed this as much as you did.

You let her set the pace for a few blissful seconds before taking over again, your hips rocking forward in shallow thrusts that had her gagging around you.

"Good girl," you praised, your voice rough but calm. "Just like that."

Jeongyeon moaned, the sound muffled and broken, her fingers flexing against your thighs. You could feel your release building, coiling tight in your gut, but you weren't ready yet. Not when she looked this perfect—messy, wrecked, and utterly yours.

So you slowed, pulling back until she was left panting, her lips swollen and glistening. "Look at me," you commanded. Her gaze lifted, her pupils blown wide with want. You smirked. "Let's try that again."

The moment you released your grip on her hair, Jeongyeon didn't pull away. Instead, she dove back in with a hunger that bordered on desperation, her lips sealing around your cock with a wet, obscene noise that echoed in the quiet of the apartment.

This time, she took control.

Her hands came up to grip the base of your shaft, her fingers tightening just enough to make your breath hitch as she began moving in slow, deliberate strokes. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your cock, dragging up in long, languid licks before swirling around the head with a teasing flick. "Fuck—" you exhaled, your fingers flexing at your sides.

Jeongyeon hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. She glanced up at you through her lashes, her gaze dark and knowing, before sinking down again—deeper this time, her throat fluttering as she forced herself to take more.

Spit dripped from her lips, slicking your length as she worked you over with a messy, unhurried rhythm. Every pull of her mouth was deliberate, every flick of her tongue calculated to drag out every last shred of your restraint.

You could feel the heat coiling low in your stomach, your muscles tensing as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Jeongyeon—" you warned, your voice rough.

She didn't stop. If anything, she doubled down, her pace quickening just slightly as her fingers twisted at the base of your cock, her other hand coming up to cup your balls with a gentle, teasing pressure. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily, a groan tearing from your throat as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

Jeongyeon pulled back at the last second, her lips popping off your cock with a lewd sound as she leaned back on her heels, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and glistening, her eyes half-lidded with something dangerously close to satisfaction.

"Come on," she murmured, her voice wrecked. "Let me see it."

You didn't need to be told twice. With a sharp exhale, you reached down, fisting your cock in one rough stroke as your release spilled over her face in thick, uneven stripes.

Jeongyeon didn't flinch. She held your gaze the entire time, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop as it slid down her cheek. "Messy," she mused, her lips curling into a smirk. You chuckled, breathless. "You love it."

Jeongyeon wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, her fingers coming away sticky as she examined the mess you'd left on her skin. A slow, knowing smirk curled at her lips as she looked up at you, her gaze dripping with something between amusement and challenge.

"You really didn't want anything in return, huh?" she drawled, arching an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me."

You exhaled a laugh, your cock still twitching against your thigh, half-hard and glistening under the dim light. "Funny. I seem to recall someone insisting I take payment." You tapped her cheek lightly with two fingers—just enough to make her nose scrunch up in irritation. "What was it again? 'Just once'?"

Jeongyeon swatted your hand away, her lips twisting into a scowl that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, well, maybe I overestimated your self-control."

"Or maybe," you countered, leaning in just enough to see her breath hitch, "you underestimated how good you'd look with my cum on your face."

Her cheeks darkened, but she held your stare, unflinching. "Wow. Real poetic. Should I be flattered?"

You chuckled, dragging your thumb along her bottom lip, smearing the remnants of your release against her skin. "You tell me. You're the one who practically begged for it."

Jeongyeon's eyes narrowed. "I did not beg—"

"Could've fooled me," you echoed, grinning as you gave her cheek a playful smack with the side of your cock—just hard enough to make a wet, lewd sound against her skin.

She gasped, her hand flying up to swat at you again, but you caught her wrist before she could land the hit. "Hey—!"

You tsked, shaking your head. "Naughty. Don't get pissy just because I'm right." Jeongyeon yanked her arm free with a scoff, wiping at her face again—more aggressively this time. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," you mused, tilting your head, "here you are. Still on your knees."

Her lips parted—then snapped shut again, her jaw working as she visibly fought back whatever retort was on the tip of her tongue.

The smirk on Jeongyeon’s lips faltered for just a second—just long enough for you to catch the flicker of something raw beneath the snark. She exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers stilling where they’d been wiping at her cheek. "This is fucked up," she muttered, more to herself than to you.

You didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between you, heavy with everything left unsaid. Jeongyeon’s gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders tensing. "I hate that I don’t hate this."

You tilted your head, studying her. "Guilt doesn’t suit you." She barked out a laugh, bitter and sharp. "Yeah, well, neither does cheating on my husband."

There it was. The admission, ugly and unfiltered, hanging in the air like a grenade with the pin pulled. You didn’t flinch. "You think I don’t know that?"

Jeongyeon’s eyes snapped up to yours, searching—for judgment, for disgust, maybe even for permission. But all she found was quiet understanding. "Then why—?" Her voice cracked.

"Because you needed it," you said simply. "Not just the sex. Not just the distraction. This—someone who doesn’t look at you like you’re a problem to fix."

Her breath hitched. You reached out, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone, smearing the last traces of your release still clinging to her skin. "He’s drowning, and he’s dragging you down with him. But you? You’re still alive."

Jeongyeon shuddered, her lashes fluttering shut for a brief moment before she forced them open again. "That’s not an excuse."

"Did I say it was?" You leaned in, close enough that your breath ghosted over her lips. "I’m just telling you the truth. Whether you want to hear it or not."

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "I hate you." You smirked. "Liar." Jeongyeon didn’t argue.

The air between you was thick with something heavier than lust—something raw and unspoken, tangled in the way Jeongyeon's breath still hitched when you touched her, in the way her fingers trembled even as she tried to glare at you.

You let the silence stretch a beat longer, watching the conflict play out behind her eyes—guilt, want, frustration, all warring for dominance. Then, with a slow smirk, you leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell you what," you murmured, your thumb dragging along her lower lip. "Let me distract you properly."

Jeongyeon's brow furrowed. "What the hell is that supposed to—ah!"

Her protest cut off in a sharp gasp as you suddenly gripped her thighs and yanked her forward, dragging her across the floor until her legs were sprawled on either side of your hips. She barely had time to brace her hands against your shoulders before you were leaning in, your breath hot against the inside of her thigh.

"You're thinking too much," you muttered, nipping at the sensitive skin there just to feel her jolt. "So shut up and let me fix that."

Jeongyeon's breath came faster, her fingers tightening in your shirt. "Y-you—"

With deliberate slowness, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of her jeans, peeling them down her hips along with her soaked panties. The scent of her hit you immediately—warm, heady, undeniably hers—and you groaned, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the crease of her thigh.

"Fuck," Jeongyeon whimpered, her hips jerking involuntarily.

You chuckled darkly, your hands sliding under her ass to lift her just enough—then, without warning, you licked a slow, filthy stripe from her entrance all the way up to her clit. Jeongyeon arched, a broken cry tearing from her throat as her thighs clamped around your head. "Oh my god—!

You didn't give her a chance to recover. Your tongue swirled around her clit in tight, relentless circles, your fingers digging into her hips to keep her from squirming away. She was drowning in it—her back bowed off the floor, her hands fisting in your hair hard enough to hurt, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

"You taste perfect," you growled against her, the vibration drawing another desperate whimper from her lips. "Bet you'd come perfect, too."

Jeongyeon sobbed something incoherent, her hips canting into your mouth shamelessly now, chasing the pleasure with a desperation that bordered on pathetic. And you let her.

You let her grind against your tongue, let her fingers tug at your hair, let her fall apart—because for once, she wasn't thinking about debts or guilt or her failing marriage.

She was just feeling. And God, was it beautiful.

Jeongyeon’s thighs trembled violently as she hovered above your face, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The flush on her chest had deepened, spreading down to the tops of her breasts, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch for balance, her knuckles white with tension.

“Fuck—fuck, wait—” she panted, her voice strangled. You smirked up at her, your hands gripping the backs of her thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh there. “Scared?”

Her eyes flashed—dark, defiant, needy. “Shut up,” she hissed, but her hips jerked forward anyway, her cunt hovering just inches from your mouth.

You exhaled, slow and deliberate, letting your breath ghost over her slick folds. Jeongyeon whimpered, her thighs tightening around your head. “Do it,” you murmured, your voice rough. “Sit.”

For a heartbeat, she hesitated—then, with a sharp inhale, she lowered herself onto your mouth in one slow, deliberate motion.

The moment your tongue made contact, she jolted, a broken cry tearing from her throat as her hands flew to your hair, fisting in it desperately. “Oh—oh my god—!”

You groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her entire body as you licked a slow, filthy stripe from her entrance to her clit. Jeongyeon’s hips jerked forward instinctively, grinding against your mouth with a shameless, desperate roll.

“Fuck—right there—!” she gasped, her thighs clamping around your head as you swirled your tongue around her clit in tight, relentless circles.

You could feel her unraveling—the way her muscles tensed, the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers tugged at your hair hard enough to hurt. She was close, teetering on the edge, her entire body coiled tight with tension.

And then— “Wait—!” she suddenly gasped, her hands yanking your head back just enough to break contact. You blinked up at her, your lips still wet with her. “Problem?”

Jeongyeon’s chest heaved, her pupils blown wide with lust. “I—I don’t—” She swallowed hard, her grip on your hair loosening slightly. “I don’t wanna come yet.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No?” She shook her head, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I want—fuck—I want you to ruin me first.”

Your smirk returned, slow and predatory. “Oh, Jeongyeon,” you murmured, your hands sliding up to grip her hips. “You should’ve just said so.”

Then, without warning, you yanked her back down onto your mouth. The moment your tongue delved back in, Jeongyeon’s entire body arched—her back bowing off the couch, her thighs clamping around your head like a vice. A broken, guttural moan tore from her throat as you licked into her with slow, filthy precision, your nose brushing against her clit with every upward stroke.

“F-fuck—!” Her fingers twisted violently in your hair, yanking hard enough to make your scalp sting. “Right there—don’t stop—!”

Your hands slid up to grip her ass, fingers digging into the supple flesh as you pulled her harder against your mouth, your tongue swirling around her clit in tight, relentless circles. Jeongyeon jolted, her hips jerking erratically as she ground down onto your face, her wetness smearing across your chin. “Hahh—! Oh god—!” Her voice was raw, wrecked, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. “M-more—!”

Your tongue flicked faster, your lips sealing around her clit to suck hard, just the way you knew she liked it. Jeongyeon shrieked, her thighs trembling violently as her orgasm crashed over her—wave after wave of pleasure wracking her body as she clenched around nothing, her cunt pulsing against your tongue. But you didn’t let up.

The moment her high started to fade, you dug your tongue back in, licking broad, flat strokes from her entrance to her oversensitive clit. Jeongyeon sobbed, her hands shoving weakly at your forehead. “W-wait—too much—!”

You ignored her. Your fingers tightened on her ass, holding her in place as you lapped at her, your tongue fucking into her in shallow, teasing thrusts. Jeongyeon’s protests dissolved into wordless, hysterical moans, her body twitching helplessly as you pushed her right back to the edge.

“Ngh—! P-please—!” Her voice was barely a whisper, her thighs shaking uncontrollably. “I c-can’t—!” You pulled back just enough to smirk up at her, your lips glistening. “You can,” you murmured, before diving back in.

For a brief, suspended moment, the only sound in the room was Jeongyeon’s ragged breathing—uneven, exhausted, her chest rising and falling in shallow tremors. Her fingers, still tangled loosely in your hair, twitched weakly as she tried to catch her breath, her thighs slackening around your head just enough to let cool air brush against her overheated skin.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against the inside of her thigh, your own breath warm against her damp skin. Jeongyeon exhaled shakily, her voice hoarse. "...You're insane." You chuckled, pressing a soft, almost chaste kiss to the crease of her thigh. "And yet you're still here." She huffed, her fingers flexing in your hair—not pulling, just holding. "Shut up."

You grinned, tilting your head to nuzzle against her skin, your lips brushing feather-light over the faint marks your stubble had left behind. Jeongyeon shivered, but she didn’t push you away.

For a heartbeat, it was almost sweet—the way her fingers carded through your hair absently, the way her breath steadied just slightly, the way her body relaxed incrementally under your touch.

Then, with a slow, deliberate smirk, you dragged your tongue up the inside of her thigh—teasing, not quite touching where she really wanted you. Jeongyeon growled, her grip tightening in your hair. "Asshole."

You laughed, low and rough. "You love it." Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into something dangerously close to a smile—before she yanked your head back where she wanted you. "Prove it."

Jeongyeon barely had time to gasp before your hands were under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly off the couch. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck, her breath hitching as you carried her through the dimly lit apartment—her legs dangling over your forearm, her back pressed flush against your chest.

"W-wait—" she stammered, but you were already pushing open the bedroom door with your shoulder, the hinges creaking softly in protest.

The bed dipped under her weight as you dropped her onto the mattress, her body bouncing slightly before settling against the rumpled sheets. Jeongyeon propped herself up on her elbows, her hair mussed, her lips still swollen from earlier—but before she could speak, you were crawling over her, your hands sliding up her sides to the hem of her shirt. "Off," you ordered, your voice rough.

Jeongyeon exhaled sharply, but she didn't argue—just lifted her arms obediently as you tugged the fabric over her head, tossing it somewhere to the side. Her bra followed seconds later, the clasp giving way with a practiced flick of your fingers.

And then—there she was. Her breasts spilled into your palms the moment you cupped them, warm and heavy, her nipples already pebbled under your touch. Jeongyeon whimpered, her back arching off the bed as your thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks, circling them in slow, teasing strokes.

"Fuck," she breathed, her fingers twisting in the sheets.

You smirked, leaning down to drag your tongue over one taut bud, savoring the way her breath hitched. "Like that?"

Jeongyeon nodded frantically, her hips canting up uselessly. "Y-yes—more—"

You obliged, sealing your lips around her nipple and sucking hard, your tongue flicking over the peak in quick, relentless circles. Jeongyeon cried out, her back bowing off the mattress as pleasure shot straight to her core, her thighs clamping together instinctively. "Ahh—!" Her hands flew to your hair, tugging desperately. "D-don't stop—!"

You had no intention of stopping. Switching to her other breast, you lavished it with the same attention—nipping, licking, sucking until she was writhing beneath you, her moans growing increasingly broken. "So sensitive," you murmured against her skin, your teeth grazing her nipple just to hear her squeak. "Bet I could make you come just like this."

Jeongyeon's breath stuttered, her hips jerking at the thought—but before she could respond, you pinched her neglected nipple between your fingers, rolling it roughly.

Jeongyeon’s chest heaved under your mouth, her skin glistening with a mix of sweat and spit as you dragged your tongue in broad, sloppy strokes from the swell of one breast to the other. Her nipples were stiff and flushed, pebbled from the constant attention—and you weren’t done yet.

You leaned back just enough to watch the way her breath hitched, her eyes dark and half-lidded as she stared up at you. Then, with deliberate slowness, you let a thick string of saliva drip from your lips onto her left nipple. "F-fuck—" she gasped, her back arching off the bed as the cool wetness hit her overheated skin.

You smirked, blowing lightly on the spit-slick peak just to watch her shiver. "You like that?" Jeongyeon’s fingers twisted in the sheets, her thighs pressing together restlessly. "Y-you’re disgusting," she breathed, but the way her chest rose and fell betrayed her.

"Mm, sure," you hummed, before leaning back down and licking a long, filthy stripe up the underside of her breast, gathering the spit that had pooled there. Jeongyeon whined, her hips jerking as your tongue swirled around her nipple again, this time with just enough pressure to make her toes curl.

"Hahh—!" Her hands flew to your hair, gripping tight as you sealed your lips around her and sucked hard, your tongue pressing flat against the sensitive bud.

You could feel her trembling beneath you, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you switched to her other breast, repeating the same torturous attention—slobbering over her skin, letting spit drip down the curve before licking it back up with slow, exaggerated strokes. Jeongyeon’s moans grew increasingly desperate, her back arching off the bed as you teased her mercilessly, your mouth hot and wet against her. "M-more—" she begged, her voice cracking.

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your lips still glistening. "More what?" Jeongyeon’s cheeks flushed darker, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "More—fuck—more of this—"

You grinned. "Good girl." Then you dove back in, your mouth drowning her in sensation—sucking, licking, slobbering over every inch of her tits until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath you.

The last of Jeongyeon’s clothing hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving her bare beneath you—her skin flushed, her chest still heaving from the relentless attention you’d paid to her breasts. Your own clothes followed soon after, tossed carelessly aside until there was nothing left between you but the slick heat of skin on skin.

Your cock, already spit-slick and heavy from earlier, twitched against her thigh as you settled between her legs. Jeongyeon’s breath hitched at the contact, her hips canting up instinctively—but you didn’t give her what she wanted. Not yet.

Instead, your fingers trailed down her stomach, tracing idle circles over her hipbones before dipping lower, just brushing the damp curls between her thighs. Jeongyeon jolted, her nails digging into your shoulders. “Fuck—quit teasing—”

You smirked, pressing a single finger against her entrance, relishing the way her breath stuttered. “You’re already dripping,” you murmured, dragging your fingertip through her slick folds before pushing in, just to the first knuckle. Jeongyeon’s back arched, a choked moan spilling from her lips as her walls fluttered around you. “Ahh—!”

“So fucking wet,” you growled, curling your finger just so, drawing another broken sound from her throat. “All for me?” Jeongyeon’s lips curled into a smirk, despite the way her thighs trembled around your hand. “Don’t—hnngh—don’t flatter yourself,” she panted, her hips rolling against your fingers. “I just—ah!—haven’t been fucked properly in ages.”

You chuckled, adding a second finger and scissoring them slowly, stretching her as her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps. “Liar,” you murmured, leaning down to nip at her collarbone. “You’re starving for it.”

Jeongyeon whined, her nails scraping down your back as you crooked your fingers, rubbing against that spot inside her with deliberate precision. “Shit—!”

You didn’t let up, your thumb circling her clit in tight, relentless strokes as your fingers fucked into her, slow and deep. “Tell me,” you demanded, your voice rough. “Tell me how bad you want it.”

Jeongyeon’s head thrashed against the pillows, her thighs clamping around your wrist as pleasure coiled tight in her gut. “I—fuck—I hate you—”

You laughed, pressing harder, faster, until her words dissolved into a wordless, hysterical moan. “Yeah?” you taunted, your lips brushing her ear. “Then why are you shaking?”

Jeongyeon sobbed, her hips jerking erratically as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge—until, with a sharp cry, she shattered, her cunt clenching around your fingers as her orgasm ripped through her. You didn’t stop. Not until she was whimpering, her hands shoving weakly at your wrist. “T-too much—”

You pulled your fingers free with a wet pop, bringing them to your lips and licking her taste off with a satisfied hum. “Perfect,” you murmured, before leaning down to kiss her—deep and filthy, letting her taste herself on your tongue.

Jeongyeon moaned into your mouth, her fingers tangling in your hair as she kissed you back with equal fervor. When you finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with want.

“Now,” she panted, her legs hooking around your hips, pulling you closer. “Fuck me.”

You grinned, your cock pressing against her entrance, the tip already slick with her arousal. “Gladly.”

The first thrust was deliberate—slow, torturous, the thick head of your cock spreading her open inch by obscene inch until Jeongyeon’s nails carved crescent moons into your shoulders, her breath stuttering in her throat like a broken record. “F-fuck—” she choked out, her cunt fluttering around you as you bottomed out, her walls clenching like they were trying to milk you dry already.

You groaned, your hips pressing flush against hers, your cock twitching inside her as you gave her a moment to adjust—though adjusting was a fucking joke when her pussy was dripping, her thighs shaking like she’d been starved for it.

Jeongyeon’s head tipped back, her lips parted in a silent gasp as you pulled out almost all the way—just to slam back in with a sharp snap of your hips that punched a ragged scream from her lungs.

“AHHH—!”

That’s more like it. Your hands dug into the meat of her thighs, spreading her wider as you set a brutal pace—no finesse, no patience, just raw, filthy fucking, your cock pistoning in and out of her with enough force to make the bed creak beneath you.

Jeongyeon sobbed, her back arching off the mattress as you hammered into her, each thrust dragging over that spot inside her that made her vision whiten at the edges. “S-shit—!” Her fingers scrambled for purchase, clawing at the sheets like she was clinging for life. “H-harder—!”

You laughed, breathless, your hips snapping forward with enough force to jolt her up the bed. “Greedy,” you growled, your fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise as you yanked her back onto your cock. “Take it.”

Jeongyeon’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, her cunt squeezing around you like a vice as you pounded into her, the wet, squelching sounds of her pussy taking you filling the room alongside her broken moans. “F-fuck—!” Her legs locked around your waist, her heels digging into your ass as if she could force you deeper. “Ruin it—!”

Your fingers tangled violently in Jeongyeon's sweat-damp hair, wrenching her head back until her throat strained in a perfect, vulnerable arch. The choked gasp that spilled from her lips sent a surge of possessive heat straight to your cock, buried to the hilt inside her clenching warmth.

"Look at you," you snarled, your hips snapping forward in a brutal piston motion that made her toes curl against the small of your back. "Taking my cock like a fucking slut after all that whining."

Jeongyeon's moan cracked into a sob as you angled deeper, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with each merciless thrust. "S-shut u—AHH!" Her protest dissolved into a shriek as you yanked her hair harder, exposing the fluttering pulse at her throat to your teeth.

You bit down - not enough to break skin but enough to make her squirm, her cunt convulsing around you in desperate little spasms. "You love this," you growled against her sweat-slick skin, punctuating each word with a punishing snap of your hips. "Love getting used, love being my filthy little cock sleeve—"

"Nnh—liar—!" she keened, but the way her nails scored bloody crescents down your back betrayed her. Her thighs trembled where they clamped around your waist, her slick coating your balls with every filthy thrust.

A cruel smirk curled your lips as you adjusted your grip, wrapping her hair around your fist like a rein before��pulling - forcing her to meet your gaze through tear-blurred lashes. "Then why," you hissed, driving into her with a particularly vicious stroke that made her eyes roll back, "are you dripping all over my dick, Jeongyeon?"

Her mouth opened - to protest, to curse you, to beg - but all that escaped was a broken wail as you pounded into her, your free hand groping the sweat-slick swell of her breast to pinch a nipple hard. The dual sensations tore another ragged scream from her throat, her walls fluttering around you in erratic pulses as she teetered dangerously close to the edge.

"N-not—not yet—!" she sobbed, her hips jerking in aborted little circles, torn between chasing her pleasure and fleeing the overwhelming sensation.

You laughed - your thrusts turning erratic as your own control frayed. "Beg me to stop then," you challenged, your teeth grazing the shell of her ear. "Go on. Try."

Jeongyeon's breath hitched - her lips parted - Jeongyeon's ragged panting filled the air as her thighs trembled around your waist, her cunt still spasming weakly from the brutal pace you'd set. Sweat glistened along her collarbones, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven jerks as she struggled to catch her breath.

But then—her lips curled. A slow, defiant smirk spread across her swollen mouth, her eyes—still hazy with lust—locking onto yours with something dangerously close to challenge. "You really think..." she panted, her hips rolling just enough to make your cock twitch inside her, "...that this is the worst I've taken?"

Your grip tightened in her hair instinctively, yanking her head back further until her throat arched. "Oh?" you murmured, your thumb brushing roughly over her nipple. "You saying you can handle more?"

Jeongyeon's smirk widened, even as her breath hitched when you twisted your hips, grinding deep. "I'm saying..." she gasped, her fingers scrambling against the sheets, "...you're not half as scary as you think you are."

Bold words.

You chuckled, your free hand sliding down to grip her thigh, digging your fingers into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise. "Let's test that theory," you purred—before slamming back into her with enough force to make the headboard crack against the wall. Jeongyeon's back arched off the bed, a broken scream tearing from her throat as you set a punishing new rhythm, each thrust jarring through her with brutal precision. "F-fuck—!"

"Scared yet?" you taunted, your voice rough with strain as her walls clenched around you, her body betraying her bravado with every ragged moan. Jeongyeon's nails dug into your shoulders, her legs locking around your waist tighter—pulling you deeper. "N-not even—ahh!—close," she gasped, her smirk wavering but still there. Oh, you'd break that smirk soon enough.

The air was thick with the scent of sex—musky, primal, hers—as your hips pistoned into Jeongyeon with relentless, animalistic force. Sweat dripped from your brow onto her heaving chest, mingling with the sheen glistening across her flushed skin. Every brutal thrust punched another ragged sound from her throat—ah-ah-AHH!—her voice cracking under the assault.

Jeongyeon’s thighs trembled where they locked around your waist, her heels digging into the small of your back as if she could somehow force you deeper. Her cunt was drenched, clenching around you in erratic spasms, the wet squelch of your cock plunging in and out obscenely loud in the otherwise silent room.

“F-fuck—fuck—!” she sobbed, her nails carving crimson trails down your shoulders. “Y-you’re—nngh!—gonna break me—!”

You laughed, dark and breathless, your fingers tightening in her hair as you yanked her head back, exposing the delicate column of her throat to your teeth. “Good,” you groaned before biting down, sucking a bruise into her pulse point as you hammered into her with enough force to jolt her up the bed.

Jeongyeon screeched, her back arching off the mattress, her walls fluttering around you in desperate, uneven clenches. “I-I can’t—!”

“You can,” you snarled, your thrusts turning erratic, your balls slapping against her ass with every snap of your hips. “You’re gonna take it—gonna take every fucking drop—”

Her breath hitched—her eyes widened— And then you slammed into her one last time, burying yourself to the hilt as your orgasm ripped through you with blinding force. “FUCK!”

Hot ropes of cum pulsed deep into her womb, your cock twitching violently as you filled her, your hips grinding forward in shallow, instinctive rolls to milk yourself dry. Jeongyeon wailed, her cunt convulsing around you as her own climax crashed over her—wave after wave of pleasure wracking her body as she dripped around your still-spurting cock.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the wet drip of your combined releases leaking from her stretched hole.

Then—Jeongyeon collapsed back onto the mattress, her limbs boneless, her chest rising and falling in uneven jerks. “...holy shit,” she slurred, her voice wrecked. You smirked, pressing one last, filthy kiss to her swollen lips. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

The room was quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioner and the steady rhythm of Jeongyeon’s breathing as she lay beside you, her body still warm and pliant from the aftershocks of pleasure. The sheets were tangled around your legs, the scent of sex still lingering in the air, but for now, none of that mattered.

Her fingers traced idle patterns across your chest, her touch feather-light, as if she were memorizing the feel of your skin. You turned your head to look at her, and for the first time that night, her expression was unguarded—soft, almost vulnerable in the dim light. "This was... nice," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "More than nice, actually."

A small, tired smile curved her lips, but there was something in her eyes—something bittersweet, something final. You knew what this was. A goodbye. Your chest tightened, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead before letting your fingers linger against her cheek. "Yeah," you agreed quietly. "It was."

Jeongyeon exhaled, her lashes fluttering as she leaned into your touch for just a second longer before pulling away. "I mean it," she said, her voice firmer now, though still laced with something unspoken. "I’ll... remember this."

But not enough to stay. The words hung between you, unvoiced but understood. You swallowed the ache in your throat and smiled—really smiled—because if this was all you got, then you’d make sure it was enough. "Good," you said, your thumb brushing one last time over her cheekbone. "Then it was worth it."

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched, just slightly, before she shifted, curling into your side with a quiet sigh. You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, memorizing the weight of her against you—the way her body fit so perfectly against yours, as if it were made to be there. But morning would come. And when it did, she would leave. For now, though—just for tonight—you let yourself pretend.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the rumpled sheets where she had been. You reached out before you were fully awake, fingers brushing empty space—still warm, but not enough. The pillow beside you bore the faintest indentation, the ghost of her weight already fading.

The apartment was silent. No rustle of fabric. No hum of the shower running. No soft, sleep-roughened voice murmuring good morning. Just stillness.

You sat up, running a hand through your hair as your gaze swept the room. Her clothes—scattered across the floor last night—were gone. The glass of water she’d left on the nightstand was untouched. And on the pillow, a single folded note. You didn’t need to open it to know what it said. Some things weren’t meant to last.

You exhaled, slow and measured, before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. The sheets still smelled like her—like sweat and perfume and something hers—but even that would fade soon. Morning had come. And just like she promised, she was gone.

Interlude: Strangers Again

The first time you saw her after that night was at the grand reopening of her boutique.

Jeongyeon stood near the entrance, dressed in a crisp white blouse and tailored slacks, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She looked every bit the polished business owner—smiling at customers, shaking hands with investors, her laughter bright and practiced. And when her eyes met yours across the room, there was nothing. No flicker of recognition. No warmth. No guilt. Just the polite, detached smile she reserved for strangers.b

Your chest tightened, but you kept your expression neutral as you approached. "Congratulations," you said, handing her the envelope—the final paperwork that would secure her shop’s future. "Thank you," she replied, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest second before pulling away. "We appreciate your help."

We. Not I. Not you and me.

Just we—the royal kind, the kind that meant nothing at all. You forced a smile. "Of course. Business is business." jeongyeon nodded, already turning to greet the next guest, her dismissal clear.

The second time was at a supplier meeting.

You sat across from her in a too-bright conference room, the terms of the new contract laid out between you like a battlefield. Jeongyeon’s husband—tall, broad-shouldered, with a grip that lingered just a second too long when he shook your hand—flanked her like a guard dog. "We’re grateful for your continued support," he said, his voice smooth. "Jeongyeon’s told me how instrumental you’ve been."

You glanced at her, searching for something—a crack in the facade, a hint of the woman who’d gasped your name into the dark. But she just sipped her coffee, her gaze fixed on the paperwork. "Just doing my job," you replied.

Jeongyeon’s pen paused mid-signature. For a heartbeat, the air between you thickened—then she exhaled, scribbling her name with a flourish before pushing the document toward you. "Then consider this the final step," she said, her voice steady. "We won’t need to trouble you anymore."

Her husband smiled. You pretended not to notice the way her knuckles whitened around her cup.

The last time was an accident.

You turned a corner in the shopping district and there she was—no husband, no customers, just Jeongyeon in a sundress, her arms full of fabric samples.

For a second, neither of you moved. Then, quietly: "...Hi." The word was so soft you almost missed it. You swallowed. "Hi."

Jeongyeon shifted her grip on the samples, her eyes darting past your shoulder like she expected someone to appear. "The shop’s doing well," she said finally.

"I heard." a pause. The tension between you was palpable, thick with everything unsaid. Then— "I should go," she murmured, already stepping around you.

You didn’t stop her. But as she walked away, you could’ve sworn you saw her fingers rise—just for a second—to touch the spot on her neck where your teeth had left a mark.

Then she rounded the corner. And just like before, she was gone.

One Month Later

Rain pattered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the Seoul skyline into streaks of neon and shadow. You leaned back in your chair, fingers steepled beneath your chin as you scanned the quarterly reports—numbers and projections that usually held your focus. Tonight, they were just ink on paper.

A knock at the door. "Come in," you called, not looking up.The door creaked open. Silence.

Then—

"...Hi."

A voice you hadn't heard in weeks. A voice that shouldn't have made your pulse jump. Your head snapped up.

Jeongyeon stood in the doorway, her hair damp from the rain, her fingers twisting around the strap of her purse. No polished smile. No husband in sight. Just her—eyes wide, lips parted, like she'd just run here. Like she wasn't sure why she came. The clock on the wall ticked once. Twice.

You opened your mouth—

Jeongyeon’s Interlude – One Month Earlier

Jeongyeon had slipped out before dawn, her body still singing with the aftershocks of your touch, her skin still carrying the phantom weight of your hands. The note she left was deliberate—polite, impersonal, final. A clean break. Or so she told herself.

But reality had other plans.

Her husband barely noticed her absence when she returned home. He was already halfway through his morning coffee, scrolling through stocks on his phone. "Shop’s reopening next week," she said, testing the waters.

"Mm," he grunted, not looking up. "Good." That was it. No questions. No how did you pull this off? No thank you.

Jeongyeon’s fingers clenched around her own cup. You would’ve asked. You would’ve cared. She swallowed the Thought like a poison.

Two Weeks Later

The boutique flourished. Customers returned. Investors smiled. Her husband, for the first time in months, looked at her. "We should celebrate," he said one night, his hand sliding up her thigh under the dinner table. Jeongyeon stiffened.

His touch was wrong—too familiar, too entitled, like he’d earned the right to her body simply because the business was thriving again. You had touched her like she was precious. She forced a smile. "Not tonight." His expression darkened, but he let her go.

Three Weeks Later

The first time her husband tried to fuck her after that night with you, it was a disaster.

He didn’t prepare her. Didn’t kiss her. Just rolled on top of her, rutting into her dry cunt like he was claiming territory. Jeongyeon bit her lip until it bled, her mind treacherously replaying the way you had worshipped her—the way your tongue had lapped at her until she dripped, the way your cock had stretched her just right, the way you’d whispered against her skin—

"You’re not even wet," her husband snapped, pulling out with a frustrated grunt. She turned her face into the pillow. "Sorry." He didn’t try again.

Four Weeks Later

The dreams started.

Vivid, filthy dreams of you—of your mouth between her thighs, of your hands pinning her wrists, of your voice growling "mine" as you came inside her.

Jeongyeon woke up aching, her panties soaked, her husband snoring beside her. Guilt curdled in her stomach. But worse than the guilt? The longing.

The Breaking Point

The final straw came on a Tuesday.

Her husband brought her coffee—remembered her order for the first time in years—and smiled like he expected a medal.

Jeongyeon stared at the cup, her chest tight.

You had helped her when she had nothing. You had looked at her like she was everything. And what had her husband done? Waited until the storm passed to pretend he gave a damn? Something inside her snapped.

Present Day – Your Office

Rain streaked the windows as Jeongyeon stepped inside, her breaths coming too fast. She looked wrecked. Her hair was damp, her lips bitten raw, her eyes wild with something between desperation and fury.

"Tell me it was just sex," she demanded, her voice trembling. "Tell me you didn’t mean any of it."

The clock ticked. Outside, thunder rumbled. And Jeongyeon—proud, stubborn, broken Jeongyeon—finally cracked. "Because I can’t stop thinking about you."

The air between you crackled like live wires as Jeongyeon stood frozen in your office doorway, raindrops glistening in her hair like shattered diamonds. Your fingers twitched against the armrest of your chair—instinct urging you to stand, to reach for her, to wipe that storm-tossed vulnerability from her face.

Instead, you let the silence stretch. Let her squirm.

Then—slow as sunrise—your lips curved into a smile. Not the polite, professional one you’d worn at her boutique reopening or those agonizing supplier meetings. This was something darker. Hungrier.

"Jeongyeon-ssi," you purred, leaning back in your chair with deliberate laziness. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her throat bobbed. You watched the way her fingers tightened around her purse strap—knuckles whitening—before she lifted her chin. "Don’t." A single syllable, sharp as shattered glass. "Don’t fucking pretend with me."

Oh?

You arched a brow, swiveling your chair just enough to let one knee fall open in a silent invitation. "Then tell me why you’re here," you countered, voice dropping to a velvet growl. "And look me in the eye when you say it."

For a heartbeat, she wavered. Then—

"I hate you." The words tore from her like a confession, her chest heaving. "I hate how you—how you look at me. Like you see me. Like you—" Her voice broke.

You didn’t move. Didn’t blink. "Like I what?"

Jeongyeon flinched.

And that’s when you struck.

Rising fluidly, you closed the distance between you in three strides, crowding her back against the door until it clicked shut behind her. She gasped as your palm slapped against the wood beside her head, caging her in.

"Say it," you demanded, your breath hot against her parted lips. "Or I’ll walk away right now."

A lie. You’d burn the world before walking away from her again.

Jeongyeon’s eyes flooded with furious, traitorous want.

"Like you love me," she whispered.

The moment the words left Jeongyeon’s lips—like you love me—your fingers were already moving.

One hand still braced against the door, the other slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, fingertips skating over damp silk before finding her aching clit in one ruthless stroke.

“Ahh—!”

Jeongyeon’s back arched off the door, her hips jerking against your hand as a broken moan tore from her throat. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her entire body trembling—betrayed by how wet she already was.

“F-fuck—!” she gasped, her head thudding back against the wood. “W-wait—!”

You didn’t.

Your thumb circled her clit in tight, cruel spirals, your lips brushing her ear as she squirmed. “You don’t get to say that,” you growled, “and then tell me to stop.”

Jeongyeon whined, her thighs clamping around your wrist as pleasure jolted through her—sharp and too much after a month of nothing. “I—I didn’t—!”

“Didn’t what?” You nipped at her earlobe, your fingers sliding lower to tease her entrance, gathering her slick. “Didn’t miss this?” A slow, torturous push inside—just one finger, just to feel her clench. “Didn’t dream about it?”

“Ngh—!” Her breath came in ragged pants, her hips rolling helplessly against your hand. “Y-you bastard—!”

You laughed, dark and breathless, curling your finger just so—

Jeongyeon screamed, her cunt pulsing around you as her orgasm ripped through her without warning. Her knees buckled, her entire body seizing as she soaked your fingers, her moans filthy and unrestrained.

You held her up, your lips grazing her temple as she shook through the aftershocks. “Now,” you murmured, “tell me why you’re really here.”

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched—her eyes glassy, her lips swollen—before she collapsed against you, her voice barely a whisper.

“…I couldn’t stay away.”

Jeongyeon’s body still trembled against you, her thighs slick with the evidence of just how easily she fell apart under your touch. You withdrew your fingers slowly, watching her eyelashes flutter at the loss—before pressing them against her lips.

“Lick.”

A command, not a request.

Her breath hitched, but after a heartbeat of defiance, her tongue darted out, obediently cleaning her own arousal from your fingers. The sight sent a bolt of possessive heat straight to your cock—fuck, she was made for this. Made for you.

You tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet your gaze. “You really thought you could pretend we were just colleagues?” Your thumb dragged over her bottom lip, smearing the last traces of her taste. “After the way you screamed for me? After the way you came on my cock like a slut?”

Jeongyeon flinched, but her pupils were blown, her chest rising and falling in erratic little jerks. “I—I had to—”

“Had to what?” Your voice dropped, sharp as a blade. “Run back to a husband who only touches you when the business is profitable? Who fucks you like he’s doing you a favor?”

A choked sound escaped her throat—half-protest, half-sob—but you didn’t relent.

“I helped you,” you snarled, your fingers tightening in her hair. “Not for the shop. Not for gratitude. Because I wanted you—every damn part of you. And you knew that.”

Jeongyeon’s lips parted, but no words came.

You leaned in, your mouth brushing her ear. “But here’s the truth, baby.” A dark chuckle. “You liked it. Liked knowing I’d ruin everything just to keep you. Liked knowing I ached for you while you played fucking house.”

Her breath stuttered.

“And today?” You pulled back just enough to see the guilt and want warring in her eyes. “You couldn’t take it anymore, could you? Couldn’t stand another night of his pathetic dick when you remembered how mine felt.”

Jeongyeon whimpered, her hips twitching forward like she was already seeking friction.

You grinned.

“Say it.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“I missed you,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I missed your hands, your mouth, your—fuck—your cock.” Her nails dug into your biceps. “I hate that I do, but I—I can’t stop—”

There it was.

The confession you’d been waiting for.

You let out a slow, satisfied exhale before sealing your lips over hers in a kiss that was more punishment than affection—tongue sliding against hers, stealing her breath, claiming her all over again.

When you pulled away, her lips were bruised, her eyes dazed.

“Good girl,” you murmured, dragging your thumb over her swollen mouth. “Now let’s fix that problem of yours.”

The moment your lips crashed back into hers, Jeongyeon melted—her defiance dissolving into a needy, sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. You could taste her surrender, bitter and sweet all at once—coffee from earlier, the lingering salt of her arousal, the sharp tang of her guilt.

Her mouth was sinful, opening eagerly under yours as she moaned, her hands scrambling to grip your shirt like she was afraid you’d vanish.

"Mmhn~... Fuck," she gasped when you bit her lower lip, tugging just hard enough to make her whimper.

You smirked against her mouth, one hand sliding down to palm the plush curve of her ass through her skirt, squeezing roughly. "This what you missed?"

Jeongyeon jolted, her hips instinctively rocking forward—only for your other hand to slide up, fingers roughly kneading the soft weight of her breast through her blouse.

"Ahh~!" Her back arched, pressing herself deeper into your touch as her nipple hardened under your palm. "Y-yes—more—"

You let out a dark chuckle, rolling her stiffened peak between your fingers before dragging her blouse down just enough to expose her.

"Look at you," you murmured, watching her flushed skin pebble under your gaze. "One month without me, and you're desperate."

She whined, her breath hitching as you leaned down, sealing your lips around her nipple and sucking hard—

"Ngh~! Hahh—!" Her nails clawed at your shoulders, her thighs trembling as you teased her with your teeth, your tongue, your hands—every touch calculated to remind her exactly what she’d been missing.

The storm outside raged—thunder cracking like a whip, rain slashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows in furious streaks. The city below was a blur of smeared neon and shadow, the glass trembling faintly under the wind’s assault.

And yet, all Jeongyeon could hear was the ragged sound of her own breathing.

Your mouth was everywhere—hot and demanding as it trailed down her throat, teeth scraping over her pulse before laving the sting away with your tongue. Your hands mapped her body like you were relearning her, reclaiming her—one rough squeeze of her ass, one possessive grope of her breast at a time.

“Ahh~… ngh…” Her head fell back against the window, the glass cool against her feverish skin. The contrast was maddening—the storm’s chill at her back, your heat pressed against her front.

You smirked, watching her reflection in the rain-streaked glass—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, blouse half-undone, skirt rucked up around her hips. “Look at you,” you murmured, nipping at her earlobe. “My pretty little mess.”

Jeongyeon whined, her hips jerking forward in search of friction, but you held her still, your grip firm.

“Not yet,” you chided, dragging your fingers down her stomach, tracing the waistband of her panties—soaked through, just for you. “Gonna make you feel it first. All of it.”

And then your hand slid lower, cupping her through the damp silk, rubbing just hard enough to make her jolt.

“F-fuck!” Her nails scraped against the glass, her thighs quivering. “Y-you—ahh~!”

You laughed, low and dark, your thumb circling her clit in slow, taunting strokes. “Tell me,” you breathed against her throat. “Tell me what you really came here for.”

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched—not just from the pleasure, but from the weight in your voice. The ache. The love you weren’t bothering to hide anymore.

And that—more than your touch, more than the storm, more than the risk of being seen—was what undid her.

“You,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I—I came for y-you—”

Your fingers dipped beneath the fabric, sliding through her slick folds, and Jeongyeon shattered with a sob, her orgasm crashing over her like the tempest outside.

With a single guiding hand on her waist, you backed Jeongyeon toward your desk—your grip firm, your silence deliberate. The storm outside painted erratic shadows across the polished wood as she stumbled into its edge, her breath already ragged.

But then—without a word—she pushed you into your chair.

Her fingers trembled as they worked your belt, her pupils blown wide with want. The leather hissed free, your zipper rasped down, and then—

"Fuck," you growled as her small hands curled around your cock, already aching, already throbbing for her.

Jeongyeon didn’t hesitate.

Her lips parted around you, sinking down with a whimper, her tongue pressing hot and eager along your length before hollowing her cheeks to take you deeper.

"Mmmph~… ngh…" Her lashes fluttered as she pulled back, spit-slick and messy, her gaze locked on yours—pleading, possessive, starving.

You let out a rough exhale, your fingers threading into her hair—not guiding, just feeling the way she shivered at the contact.

"Missed this?" you taunted, your voice gravel-dark.

Her answer wasn’t words.

It was the way her nails dug into your thighs, the way her throat fluttered as she swallowed you down again, the way her moans vibrated against your cock like a prayer.

But more than that—it was the tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at you, raw and ruined, like she’d been waiting for this moment since the second she walked away.

Like she’d needed it.

Like she’d needed you.

And that—more than her mouth, more than the storm, more than the fucking city spread out beneath you—was what made your grip tighten in her hair.

"That’s it, baby," you murmured, watching her lips stretch around you. "Take what’s yours."

Jeongyeon’s lips were a wreck—swollen, glistening, stretched obscenely around your cock as she bobbed her head with frantic, desperate hunger. Every inch of her was dripping—her chin slick with spit, her lashes damp with tears, her thighs clenched tight around nothing as she whimpered around you.

Her tongue dragged along your shaft in slow, sloppy strokes, her nose pressing into your pelvis as she took you deep, her throat fluttering in weak little spasms—

"Mmmf—! Hngh~…"

—before pulling back with a gasp, her lips popping off your tip, a thin string of saliva still connecting her to you.

Your hand fisted in her hair, yanking her back before she could catch her breath.

"Did I say you could stop?" you growled, your hips rolling up to meet her mouth again.

Jeongyeon’s eyes watered, her fingers digging into your thighs as she choked around you—but she didn’t fight it.

No, she leaned into it, her moans vibrating against your skin as she let you use her, her tongue laving at your length like she was starved for the taste.

And when your thumb brushed her cheek, smearing the mess she’d made of herself?

She whined, her cunt clenching around nothing—because fuck, she loved this.

The sharp rap at the door sent Jeongyeon’s entire body locking up, her wide, panicked eyes flicking up to yours—but you didn’t let her pull away.

Your fingers tightened in her hair, forcing her back down onto your cock with a firm thrust of your hips.

"Mmmph—!" Her muffled whimper vibrated deliciously around you as her nose pressed into your pelvis, her throat fluttering in protest before relaxing into helpless submission.

"Come in," you called, voice perfectly steady—as if you weren’t currently balls-deep in Yoo Jeongyeon’s sinful mouth.

The door creaked open.

Your assistant manager stepped inside, oblivious, a tablet in hand as rain lashed against the windows behind him. "Sir, the quarterly reports on the new investments just came in. The numbers look strong, but there’s a discrepancy in—"

"Mmm." You cut him off with a hum, your expression schooled into mild disinterest as you lightly rocked your hips, just enough to make Jeongyeon gag softly around you. "Leave it on the desk. I’ll review it later."

The assistant manager hesitated, glancing at the floor—where Jeongyeon’s abandoned purse lay half-hidden under the chair—before nodding. "Right. Of course."

Then—

"Hahh… ngh~…"

A tiny, broken sound escaped Jeongyeon’s throat—barely audible over the storm’s relentless drumming against the glass.

The assistant manager frowned. "Did you hear—?"

"Just the wind," you dismissed smoothly, your fingers massaging Jeongyeon’s scalp in a silent warning. "Close the door on your way out."

For a second, it seemed like he might argue—but then he just nodded again, setting the tablet down before turning to leave.

The click of the door shutting was the sweetest sound Jeongyeon had ever heard.

You yanked her up by her hair, her lips sliding off your cock with a lewd pop, her face a mess of spit and tears.

"F-fuck," she gasped, her chest heaving.

You grinned, thumbing away a stray droplet from her chin. "Told you you’d be good at this."

The moment the door clicked shut, you yanked Jeongyeon up by her hair—her lips leaving your cock with a slick pop—and crushed your mouth against hers in a filthy, possessive kiss. She tasted like salt and sin, her breath hitching as your tongue claimed hers, your grip unrelenting.

But then—

"W-wait—mmph!"

Her protest died against your lips as she felt it—the smooth, cool slide of silk tightening around her wrists behind her back. Your spare tie, pulled taut in one practiced motion, knotting her hands together before she could even process what was happening.

Jeongyeon jerked, her eyes flying wide—but you just smirked, nipping at her bottom lip as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

"Pretty," you murmured, tracing a finger down her bound arms, watching the way the fabric dug into her skin. "Now you’re really mine."

She shivered, her thighs clamping around nothing, her cunt dripping at the realization—helpless, exposed, yours.

The storm outside had reached a fever pitch—rain hammering against the glass like a thousand impatient fingers, thunder growling low and hungry in the distance. But inside, the only sound was Jeongyeon’s ragged breathing as you traced the tip of your pen down the column of her throat.

"Ahh…" Her head fell back, her bound hands flexing uselessly behind her as the cool metal dragged over her pulse.

You tsked, circling her collarbone next, the pressure just shy of pain. "So sensitive," you mused, watching goosebumps erupt in the pen’s wake. "One month without me, and you’re falling apart at a touch."

Jeongyeon whined, her hips jerking forward—but you denied her, stepping back just out of reach.

"Patience," you chided, setting the pen aside to drag your fingertips down her arms instead, digging in just enough to make her squirm. "I’m relearning you."

Your hands mapped her—sculpting the tension from her shoulders, kneading the softness of her waist, skating up her ribs to brush the undersides of her breasts—

"Ngh—!" Her back arched, her nipples pebbling under her blouse.

You hummed, finally cupping her through the fabric, your thumbs flicking over her hardened peaks until she was panting, her thighs glued together in a futile attempt to relieve the ache.

"Please," she gasped, her voice broken.

You grinned, leaning in to lick a stripe up her throat. "Please what?"

Jeongyeon shuddered, her answer lost in a moan as your teeth sank into her shoulder—

—right as your other hand slid into her panties, your fingers dipping into her drenched folds without warning.

"FUCK!"

Her scream echoed off the glass, her cunt clenching around nothing as you teased her entrance, circling her clit with maddening slowness.

"This what you needed?" you murmured, your lips grazing her ear as your fingers tortured her. "My touch? My attention?"

Jeongyeon nodded frantically, her body thrumming with overstimulation, her sanity unraveling with every brush of your fingers.

You chuckled, denying her release just a little longer— —because fuck, you’d missed this too.

Your fingers danced along her inner thigh—featherlight, teasing—just shy of where she needed you most.

“Hahh… ngh…” Her breath hitched, her hips twitching upward in a silent plea. “F-fuck—just—”

You clicked your tongue, dragging your nails up her sensitive skin instead, watching the way her muscles jumped under the sensation. “Just what, baby?”

Jeongyeon whined, her wrists straining against the silk tie binding her. “You know,” she gasped, her voice fraying at the edges. “You’re—fuck—you’re hard for me anyway, so just—ahh!”

Your hand slapped her inner thigh—sharp, stinging—and she jolted, a fresh wave of slick dripping down her folds.

“That,” you growled, leaning in until your lips brushed the shell of her ear, “isn’t how this works.”

Your free hand dug into her hip, holding her still as you finally dragged a single fingertip through her soaked slit—slow, taunting, circling her clit just once before pulling away.

Jeongyeon sobbed, her back bowing off the desk. “P-please—”

“Please what?” you purred, your cock throbbing against your zipper as you watched her unravel. “Use your words.”

She shook her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip—stubborn even now, even when her body was begging.

Your mouth descended on her neck, sucking a bruise into her pulse point as your fingers traced her entrance again—pressing in just enough to make her clench around nothing.

“F-fuck!” Her thighs trembled, her cunt pulsing with every near-touch. “I—I can’t—!”

“You can,” you murmured against her skin, your teeth scraping over her collarbone. “And you will.”

Your thumb flicked her clit—once, hard—and Jeongyeon screamed, her body locking up as the first wave of her orgasm ripped through her.

But you didn’t stop. No, you chased it, your fingers driving her higher, deeper, until she was shaking, whimpering, her sanity fraying at the edges—until she was sobbing your name like a prayer. And only then did you finally give her what she really wanted.

With a single tug, the silk tie slithered loose from Jeongyeon’s wrists. She gasped as circulation rushed back into her fingers, her pulse hammering where the fabric had bitten into her skin. You leaned back in your chair, spreading your thighs with a challenge in your smirk.

"Surprise me."

For a heartbeat, she just stared—lips parted, chest heaving, her blouse hanging open to reveal the marks you’d left on her breasts. Then, like a storm breaking, her eyes darkened.

Jeongyeon moved.

In one fluid motion, she spun around, her skirt hiking up as she straddled your lap—back to you, her plush ass pressing against your aching cock. Your hands instinctively gripped her hips, but she slapped them away with a breathless laugh.

"Ah-ah," she purred, glancing at you over her shoulder through her lashes. "My turn."

Then she rose on her knees, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your slacks and briefs, dragging them down just enough to free your cock—thick, twitching, dripping with pre-cum.

"Fuck," you gritted out as she rubbed herself against your length, her slick coating you, her heat maddening.

Jeongyeon moaned, her head falling back as she notched your tip at her entrance—

—and then sank down in one slow, sweet slide.

"Hahh~! Ngh—!" Her back arched, her cunt fluttering around you as she took you deep, her ass jiggling with every inch.

The mirror across the office caught it all—the way her tits bounced as she began to ride you, the way your hands dug into her thighs, the way her face twisted in pleasure as she chased her high.

"Look," you growled, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a handprint. "Look at how good you take me."

Jeongyeon’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours in the reflection—dazed, desperate, ruined.

"M-more," she begged, her hips rolling faster. "Please—"

You grinned, helping her move with a hand on her waist—

—just as the door creaked open again.

The door swung open with a soft click—just as Jeongyeon’s hips stuttered mid-bounce, your cock buried to the hilt inside her.

Your assistant—Kim Soojin, early twenties, usually unflappable—stood frozen in the doorway, a stack of files clutched to her chest. Her eyes went comically wide, her face flushing a shade of red usually reserved for emergency exit signs.

Jeongyeon squeaked, instinctively trying to hide her face—but with her back to the door and her hair a mess of tangled waves, all Soojin could see was the obscene way her boss’s wife (as she assumed) was impaled in reverse cowgirl, skirt hiked up around her waist, your hands gripping her hips like you owned them.

"S-Sir—!" Soojin stammered, her voice cracking.

You didn’t stop.

In fact, you rolled your hips up, making Jeongyeon gasp as you smirked at your flustered employee. "Soojin-ssi," you drawled, voice dripping with amusement, "didn’t anyone teach you to knock?"

Soojin made a noise like a deflating balloon. "I—I did! Earlier! I just—the contracts—!" She flailed the files like a white flag.

Jeongyeon, mortified, dug her nails into your thighs—whether to silence you or anchor herself, you weren’t sure.

"Mm. Contracts." You squeezed Jeongyeon’s ass, relishing the way her cunt clenched around you. "Leave them on the desk. Quietly."

Soojin scurried forward, eyes glued to the floor, her entire body radiating panic as she practically threw the papers onto the nearest surface.

"S-sorry! So sorry! Won’t happen again! Ever!"

She bolted for the door—only to trip over Jeongyeon’s abandoned purse, sending it skidding across the floor with a clatter.

"Jesus—!"

The door slammed shut behind her.

Silence.

Then—

"Oh my god," Jeongyeon whispered, her entire body burning with humiliation.

You chuckled, thrusting up into her hard enough to make her yelp. "Now that," you murmured, nipping at her shoulder, "was a surprise."

Jeongyeon moaned, her resolve crumbling as you rolled her hips again, her earlier shame drowning in a fresh wave of lust.

"Bastard," she panted—but she was already moving again, her ass clapping against your thighs.

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched as your hips snapped up, driving your cock deeper inside her—her slick walls fluttering around you in shameless betrayal.

"Ahh~ ngh…!" Her fingers clawed into your thighs, her back arching as you rolled into her with deliberate, punishing strokes.

You smirked, your voice a low, taunting growl against her ear. "Look at you… getting wetter just because someone saw you." Your hands dug into her hips, guiding her movements as she bounced on your lap. "Did you like that? Knowing she could see your fat ass stuffed full of cock?"

Jeongyeon whimpered, her face burning—but the way her cunt clenched around you told the truth.

"N-no…" she lied, her voice shaking as you thrust up harder, the slap of skin echoing off the glass walls.

"Bullshit," you chuckled, one hand sliding around to pinch her clit between your fingers—making her jolt with a broken cry. "You loved it. Your pussy’s dripping."

Her moan shattered as you circled her sensitive bud, your other hand groping the curve of her ass, spreading her just enough to watch where your cock stretched her.

"M-maybe…" she finally gasped, her hips grinding down in desperate little circles. "F-fuck… maybe I did…"

You groaned, your grip tightening as you pounded up into her, hard enough to make her screech.

"God, you’re perfect."

But then—

Your hands dug into the plush flesh of her ass, spreading her cheeks wide as you admired the view—her glistening pussy stretched around your length, her untouched pucker fluttering with every thrust.

"Fuck," you growled, your thumb brushing over her tight rim, making her jolt. "Look at this… virgin hole."

Jeongyeon whined, her thighs trembling as she tried to clench—but you held her open, your cock pulsing at the thought of claiming her there too.

"Y-your��husband," you mused, your voice dark with amusement, "ever try to fuck this pretty little ass?"

She scoffed, her breath hitching as you circled her rim with your thumb. "A-ain’t no one… ahh~!… big enough to try…"

You chuckled, slowing your thrusts to a torturous grind. "Lucky me."

Then—

You leaned forward, your tongue laving a hot, sloppy stripe up from her cunt to her asshole, spitting directly onto her tight ring before pressing in with your tongue.

"HOLY—!" Jeongyeon shrieked, her back arching, her hands scrambling for purchase on your desk. "F-fuck! W-what are you—AHHH~!"

You dug in deeper, your tongue fucking into her with lewd, open-mouthed strokes, your spit dripping down to mix with her arousal.

"Mmm… so fucking tight," you groaned against her, your fingers kneading her ass as you prepped her. "Gonna ruin you here too."

Jeongyeon sobbed, her cunt gushing around your cock as you teased her ass with your tongue—loosening her, stretching her, claiming her in a way no one else had.

And when you finally pulled back, your thumb pressing into her slick, relaxed hole—

—she begged.

"P-please…" Her voice was raw, broken. "I… I want it…"

You grinned, your cock throbbing at the surrender in her tone.

"Then take it."

The air between you was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and something darker—hunger, possession, the thrill of first times. Jeongyeon’s body trembled as you pulled your cock from her dripping cunt, the pop of your release sending a fresh wave of slick down her thighs.

"Ngh…" She clenched around nothing, her hips twitching backward—seeking you even now.

You smirked, dragging the thick head of your cock through her folds, coating yourself in her arousal before teasing her untouched rim with your tip.

"Breathe," you murmured, your free hand massaging the plush curve of her ass. "And relax."

Jeongyeon nodded, her fingers gripping the edge of your desk, her knuckles white with tension.

Then—

You pressed in.

Just the tip.

"F-fuck—!" Her entire body locked up, her back arching, her cunt pulsing around nothing as the burn of the stretch seared through her.

You froze, your jaw clenching at the unbelievable tightness. "Jesus," you gritted out, your fingers digging into her hips. "You’re clenching me like a vice."

Jeongyeon whined, her thighs quivering. "I-it hurts—"

"I know," you soothed, leaning over her to kiss the sweat-slicked curve of her spine. "But it’ll feel so good soon."

You pulled back—just half an inch—before easing in again, deeper this time, the slow, relentless stretch making her whimper.

"Ahh… ngh…" Her fingers scrabbled at the desk, her body adjusting inch by agonizing inch.

You groaned, your cock throbbing as her walls fluttered around you, fighting the intrusion even as they yielded. "Fuck, you’re perfect," you praised, your voice rough with restraint. "Taking me so well."

Jeongyeon moaned, the pain already morphing into something hotter, darker—the fullness, the shame, the filthy knowledge that she was letting you ruin her here.

And when you finally bottomed out, your hips flush against her ass, her gasp was music.

"M-move," she begged, her voice shaking.

With a firm grip on her hips, you yanked Jeongyeon off your lap and onto the plush carpet below. The sudden movement made her gasp, her bound hands instinctively bracing against the floor as you maneuvered her into position—knees spread, ass arched high, her dripping cunt and freshly stretched asshole on obscene display.

"F-fuck—!" she whined, her cheek pressed against the carpet, her back dipped in perfect submission.

You growled, admiring the view—her round ass jiggling with every shaky breath, her thighs glistening with a mix of her arousal and your spit. The storm outside had quieted to a murmur, leaving only the filthy sound of your cock slapping against her as you lined yourself up again.

"Deeper this time," you commanded, your palm smacking her left cheek hard enough to leave a blush of red. "Take all of me."

Jeongyeon nodded, her fingers clawing at the carpet as you notched your tip against her loosened rim—

—and pushed in with one slow, unrelenting thrust.

"NGH~! FUCK!" Her scream was guttural, her body locking up as you stretched her wider than before, the burn of penetration searing through her.

You groaned, your head falling back at the unholy tightness, your fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. "Christ—you’re squeezing me like a fucking vise," you gritted out, your cock twitching inside her.

Jeongyeon panted, her thighs trembling, her cunt dripping onto the carpet beneath her. "I-It’s too much—!"

"Liar," you chuckled, dragging out until just the tip remained before plunging back in—harder, deeper. "Your ass is sucking me in."

Her moan was broken, her body contradicting her words as her back arched, her hips pushing back against you. "M-more—!"

You obliged.

Your thrusts started brutal—pounding into her with no mercy, the slap of skin echoing off the walls, her choked cries music to your ears. The carpet burned against her knees, her bound hands fisting the fibers as you ruined her, your cock spearing her deeper with every snap of your hips.

"Look at you," you growled, one hand fisting her hair to yank her head up toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights blurred through the rain, but her reflection was crystal clear—teary-eyed, drooling, her tits swaying with every jolt of your cock. "Filthy fucking slut, taking it up the ass like you were made for it."

Jeongyeon sobbed, her ass clenching around you as her orgasm crept up on her—unexpected, unrelenting. "I-I’m gonna—AHHH~!"

You grinned, slowing just enough to savor the way her walls fluttered around you, milking your cock as she came untouched. "That’s it," you praised, your voice rough with lust. "Cum on my cock like the anal whore you are."

Her scream was raw, her body convulsing as you chased your own release, your thrusts turning erratic, desperate—

—until finally, with a guttural groan, you pulled out and painted her ass with thick, pulsing ropes of cum.

Jeongyeon collapsed, her body boneless, her breaths ragged.

You grinned, slapping her ass one last time.

"Welcome to the dark side, baby."

The storm had finally quieted outside, leaving only the soft hum of the city and the sound of Jeongyeon’s ragged breathing as she lay sprawled on the carpet, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. You knelt beside her, your fingers gently tracing the marks you’d left on her hips—the bruises, the bite marks, the faint red imprint of your palm on her ass.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“Was this really why you came here?” you murmured, your voice softer now, the heat of lust giving way to something quieter. Something real.

Jeongyeon let out a shaky laugh, rolling onto her back to look up at you. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen, her eyes still glazed with pleasure—but there was a weight in her gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“No,” she admitted, her voice hoarse. “I mean—yes, but… not just this.” She swallowed, her fingers brushing against your knee. “I missed you. The way you—fuck—the way you touch me, but also… the way you see me.”

You froze, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in her words.

“And when you’re gone again?” you asked, your voice rougher than you intended. “You’ll just… ignore me? Like last time?”

Jeongyeon’s lips curved into a teasing smirk, though her eyes stayed soft. “Do you want me to?”

You growled, grabbing her wrist and yanking her up into your lap, your mouth crashing into hers in a kiss that was more claim than caress.

“No,” you muttered against her lips, your grip tightening. “I’m being selfish this time.”

She melted into you, her arms looping around your neck as she kissed you back—slow, sweet, savoring.

“Then we’ll keep doing this,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “Secretly. As a… thank you for helping me with the store.” Her smile turned wicked. “At least until I figure out what to do with my husband.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” She nuzzled into your neck, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. “He’s great when things are easy… but the second life gets hard?” She pulled back, her eyes dark. “He forgets.”

You grinned, your hands sliding down to grip her ass again.

“Lucky for you,” you purred, “I never forget.”

Jeongyeon’s fingers traced idle patterns across your chest as she lay against you, her body still humming from the aftershocks of pleasure. The storm had passed completely now, leaving the office bathed in the soft glow of city lights filtering through the rain-streaked windows.

Then, with a quiet sigh, she spoke—her voice so soft you almost missed it.

"You know…" She tilted her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes lighter than you’d seen them in years. "I think I always wanted you to be the one."

Your breath stalled.

Those words.

The ones you’d waited for since college, since the first time you’d watched her laugh across a crowded bar and thought, fuck, I’m done for.

Jeongyeon smiled, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "I just… never let myself say it before."

You huffed a laugh, your arms tightening around her. "Took you long enough."

She pinched your side, but her grin was bright, real—the kind of smile she’d never given her husband, not like this. "Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic."

"Romantic?" You rolled her beneath you, your lips hovering just above hers. "After I wrecked your ass on the floor?"

Jeongyeon blushed, but her legs hooked around your waist anyway. "Especially after that."

You kissed her—slow, deep, promising—before pulling back just enough to murmur:

"Then let’s be selfish a little longer."

And as the city slept outside, you did.

(Final Scene – Office, Dawn)

The first streaks of sunlight bled through the windows, painting Jeongyeon’s bare skin in gold as she drowsed against your chest. Her fingers absently traced the scars on your shoulder—the ones from the bike accident sophomore year, the ones she’d kissed better even when she pretended she didn’t care.

Then, half-asleep, she mumbled:

"We’ll figure it out."

You stilled. "Figure what out?"

She nuzzled into your collarbone, her breath warm against your skin. "This. Us. The… messy parts." A yawn. "Fuck tradition. Fuck orthodox."

Your laugh rumbled through her. "That your grand plan? ‘Fuck it’?"

"Mmhm." Her leg hooked possessively over yours. "Worked for my ass tonight."

You grinned into her hair—god, you’d missed this. Missed her.

"Jeongyeon." You waited until she cracked one eye open. "I’m holding you to that."

She smirked, already drifting off again. "Better."

And for the first time in years, neither of you let go.

#twice #jeongyeon #jeongyeon smut #twice jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #twice smut #twice x reader #twice x male reader #girl group smut #kpop smut

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cotton-fae24 · 5 months ago

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Hello everybody! Surprised to see me post something not Seabird related? Well sometimes drawing the same things over and over again gets a little tiring, so to clear my head (and to remind myself to draw legs once in while) I’d tried to draw other owl house stuff. During this break times I’d actually end up drawing other owl house creators Au’s, and I decided to clean up these drawings together and compile them into one big illustration. Think of this post as a sorta tribute to creators that inspire me. And don’t worry, Seabird part 3 will still come out Monday.

First up, the Monster high AU by @dazeddoodles

As the title suggests, it’s an AU that combines the G1 Monster high with the Owl house series. I was a huge Monster High fan when I was younger, so this AU was a real treat. I’m really sad they decided to discontinue it, as I think this AU is really cute. I love the designs too, Raine is my favorite. I kinda just wanted to draw some cute interactions, a young Eda and Raine interacting, Gus and Willow giving Hunter “a hand’ and Amity flirting with Luz (in her own way). Drawing this AU was a lot of fun and did inspire me to rewatch some of the old Monster high specials.

Pittwins AU by @nikolutke

This AU is much darker. The idea of the story is what if Hunter and Luz weren’t resurrected at the end of the series and wandered around the Boiling Isles as ghosts. I love Nikolutke designs for Ghost Luz and Hunter, they’re both haunting and really sad. Plus the idea exploring the Owl house characters reactions towards the death of a love one is really fascinating concept. I kinda explored that idea with these drawings, in this case Eda and Darius reactions. I feel like Eda would be out of her mind with grief, as she was forced to watch Luz’s death first hand. I think she’d feel a lot of guilt too, thinking she failed to protect Luz. I also wonder if Kings Titans powers allows him to see the dead, could be possible. As for the other illustration, I think Darius would probably isolated himself and grieve quietly, contemplating what he could of done differently, and if he could have saved Hunter in time.

The Gilded Cage by @catboymoments

I’ve been fan of both their next gen au and this one, but I decided to post one about the Gilded age au. The basic idea of this AU is the classic “What if Belos found Luz instead of Eda” concept. A lot of these AUs tend to go the route of “Luz becomes Belos 2.0” as someone who loves Luz, I’m sad people just think she’d just instantly become a villain if left unguided. I’m really that this AU went into a different direction and actual kept Luz’s personality and made Luz someone who’s trying to help the Isles and wants to protect her friends from Belos wrath. The one on the left is Lilith and Luz interacting, I like to think Lilith sees a lot of Eda in Luz, and makes her think of the good times before everything got complicated. The one on the right is Luz and Hunter, with the former trying to convince the latter to question Belos control. I love in this AU that despite Belos attempts to put the, against each other, they still have each others back no matter what! Their siblings no matter what universe they’re in!

And of course the classic (pun intended) The Mythology AU by @turquoisespace35

This AU is Huntlow story set in Greek mythology. Hunter in this AU is the half human-gorgon offspring of the human Caleb and gorgon Evelyn. Willow is sent to his location to kill him but (of course) they fall in love instead. The story has a lot of twists and turns, so I suggest you check it out if you haven’t already. The left drawing is Caleb and Evelyn interacting together. I don’t know if this work but I like to think the two were able to somewhat interact with each other by Caleb looking through mirror. I of course had to draw the love birds Hunter and Willow interacting together. The one on the top right is a little bit of a spoiler but I decided to draw Lilith and Edalyns in their goddess forms, I love that Lilith plays the role of Athena and acts a caretaker to Hunter. I drew her getting a little emotional about Hunter finally being free, as any cool Aunt should.

And to those who are just hear to see the Seabird AU, here’s a preview drawing of part 3 of chapter 10. I don’t think Edas really enjoying this part though lol.

Anyway, hope you guys this more unusual post, I just wanted to draw something a little different this time and pay tribute to some of the artists that have inspired me.

Edit: Chapter 10 part 3 of the Little Seabird is out now. In case you’re interested in seeing my work, I’ve left a link:

Chapter 10, part 3:

And if you want to read from the beginning, here’s a link to the first page:

Beginning:

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oh-no-its-bird · 4 months ago

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Celebrating my 21'st birthday by posting an obnoxious amount of

Warring States Hatake OC things !

Continuing the warring states era Hatake oc train as I try to fill up all 21 slots for the clan !!! I honestly don't know if I'll make all 21, but I'd like to at least give them all names, just to make the world feel lived in. I might ask someone else to donate an oc or two in the future to guest star in the cast, idk

But anyways !!!! In a clan who loves to adopt, it stands to reason that they ofc have people among them who weren't born Hatake.

With that said: Pyromaniac explosion enthusiast Hatake who was a failed bloodline theft anyone ???

Both Sora and Tsuki are pretty fucking horrendous towards Tetsuo, but in large part it's Tsuki leading the charge. Sora follows his lead, as he's the first friend she made in the clan. They're honestly pretty close

Meanwhile: Sora remains the biggest Haruka fan ever. Being saved from the bloodline thief camp by the woman really cemented her in her mind as her hero.

After Sora lost her arm at 12 when playing with an explosion seal she'd explicitly been told not to play with, Tsuki proposed they learn to do hand signs together.

Sora would eventually be able to figure out how to do pull off a jutsu with only one hand, but it takes a long time to get there— and even when she is there, it still takes longer than if she had 2 hands. Working with Tsuki, they can both pull off just about any jutsu as fast as any one person can. Faster, even

Top ten images taken 5 seconds before disaster...

I was gonna draw 2 more pages for this, of the actual drowning attempt, but I got tired and wanted to post this today so you get a summary of what comes next instead. (Maybe I'll finish drawing it and post it separately another day)

Tsuki and Sora bullied Tetsuo pretty relentlessly till the boys were about 13, when Tsuki took things a step too far and basically tried to drown Tetsuo. Tetsuo fought back, beating both Tsuki and Sora's asses pretty soundly— and catching Haruka's attention in the process.

Seeing Tetsuo fend off the other two made up Haruka's mind, and she declared he'd be her new heir. Which he... didn't actually want to be. Oops!

Sora was pretty effectively scared out of bullying Tetsuo any further, and Tsuki mellowed out a good amount— though he remained mischievous, but that was pretty standard for him.

The blue tint of Tetsuo's skin would fade only some months later as he grew out of his Hoshigaki traits and into his Hatake blood. This also helped to lessen teasing from the other kids, along with the whole "he's the new clan heir now" thing.

Good for him.

The next day Tetsuo is super pissy and sleep deprived while Tsuki is suspiciously smug and well rested. On the bright side, Tetsuo has officially learned his lesson and will now refuse to let Tsuki ever give anyone anything he's drawn ominous spirals on.

As adults, Tetsuo and Tsuki are... fine, honestly. They're friends, in a way. Might even be counted as close— or as close as you can be, with Tsuki.

The fact that Tsuki got himself permanantly posessed by an Uzu spiral demon on that mission gone wrong in Wave doesn't make things as complicated than you'd think. Tetsuo seems to often land himself in the position of acting as Tsuki (and often times Sora's) handler.

I had a few more things I wanted to draw, but ran out of time. I'll probably just try and draw and post it later. No Sora piercing lore, Daisuke introduction post or full Tetsuo drowning comic for you!!! (Yet)

Umm final thoughts:

Tetsuo is doomed to forever be surrounded by maniacs

Early Konoha oc art pt. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

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pomegranatelifethis · 3 months ago

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I absolutely love the series, The Forgotten Princess in the Dark. Yknow what be cool, for someone in the Batfam or maybe all of the Batfam be in a loop of sorts where MC has either die, or has gone missing. They only realize when they are in a loop of sorts, when they try to look for MC. Like, it happened over and over again, seemingly never ending.

And, one day the loop broke. They probably didn't realize it, until Reader mom is alive. And that MC didn't exist. Or died prematurely. Like, the room where she once resided is just a guest bedroom, or a tea room. And the atmosphere being generally happier. Maybe, they found a child or people who like MC, but are either from another country or a servant.

The Princess Forgotten in the Dark

At first, they didn’t notice.

The moments when you disappeared or died… they all blurred together.

Sometimes, you perished silently at the hands of the servants.

Sometimes, you starved to death in a cold, empty room.

Sometimes, you simply vanished, never to be seen again.

And every time the Batfamily felt that something was wrong… the loop restarted.

As if nothing had ever happened.

With each new beginning, they made the same mistakes.

They forgot you.

They lost you.

They found you dead.

And no matter how hard they tried, they were never able to save you in time.

Eventually, when they truly started searching for you, they realized the loop.

Something was stopping them.

As if they were never meant to save you.

But then…

The loop broke.

And yet, they didn’t notice it right away.

Because you were gone.

There was no trace of you.

The room where you were supposed to have lived… was now just a tea lounge.

The palace, once filled with sorrow… was now lighter, happier.

And then, they learned the truth.

You had never existed.

Or you had died too early to be remembered.

Even your mother was alive, as if you had never suffered through that miserable life.

And the strangest part… they saw people who resembled you.

But none of them were you.

None of them were the lost princess they had once failed.

And the Batfamily finally understood—

There was no way to bring you back.

#The Princess Forgotten in the Dark #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #pomegranatelifethis #yandere x reader #yandere dc #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader

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r3ynah · 4 months ago

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The people we lose along the way;

A prompt where Danny's old middle school lab professor was the Joker (from Batman: The Killing Joke) and Danny and his classmates call him Professor J, Him and his wife Jianne was born and raised in Amity Park, so overtime being surrounded by large amounts of ectoplasm, Professor J. became a liminal.

And Prof J. was actually a good teacher, the kind of teacher that will let you eat in his class, give you snacks at random times, and someone you can seek solace and peace whenever you get stressed.

Him and his wife always were there for everyone as a shoulder to cry on or just a helping hand, they were dearly beloved by the whole community.

Professor J was actually very funny, but his humor was only circled around amity park due to the fact it's a town not very social with other city, towns, social media, or the net, and they are famously known to keep to themselves.

Nonetheless everyone saw the potential in Professor J, and supported him to the fullest, why they ended up in Gotham was a mystery (some excuse that'll I'll probably come up later, but I'll let you guys do the imagining).

I like to think Gotham has very toxic ectoplasm so when He and his wife moved there he couldn't handle the toxins and it affected him mentally and physically.

after they moved everything started to go downhill, prof J first worked in a lab, then he quitted his job and became a comedian and sadly failing, Jianne almost who was almost due to give birth sadly died due to an accident, and then the Joker happened.

Now a couple a years after the comic took place, the amity parkers (they don't know what happened in these past years, they only know that the professor J. they know became a well-known comedian, or so he says) still in touch with Prof J. continued to talk to him through phone calls, messages and letters most of the time it's just his students that call, and some of his few close friends there, they tried to ask on how was Jianne doing, only to get abruptly interrupted by the rogue, who just says that she's doing better than ever or that she's resting, which they believed because they trusted their Professor.

Sometimes the joker also sends gift to his former students, Danny sometimes gets planet themed items, Sam gets mailed plants that are not native in amity park, Tucker gets new technology, Paulina gets a new plushie for her plushie collection, and so on

So, as payback they decide to go to Gotham to search for their professor J, which made them meet new friends along the way, Danny with Jason Todd, Sam with Poison Ivy, Tucker with Tim Drake, Paulina with Barbara, Star with Steph, etc..

And they're very vague with their reasoning, just only saying that they're visiting their former professor and surprising them, and then they get kidnapped in like a museum or charity event or something that has a lot of people gathered, so the amity parkers alongside other civilians became hostages.

And of course, the Bats ad Birds immediately went out to save them, only for Joker to reveal himself to everyone, and he locks eyes with the amity parkers who looked at him in realization, betrayal, and horror, and Joker stared back at them with a taken aback look that merged into panic, his grin still plastered on his face.

They couldn't swallow the reality that their professor became the person, he promised he wouldn't be, he promised to them (Because you know damn well the adults from amity park couldn't care for their children). and to see the only trusted adult in their town become one of the most disgusting and horrible human beings to ever step foot in the earth was truly heartbreaking for the group.

And for once, Joker felt like he was burning inside out because of their stares that they emitted. he mourned as guilt, sadness, and grief swallowed him for the person he used to be.

He treated those kids like his own and he and Jianne loved those kids to bits, so he did the only logical decision he could think as he pushed aside his crazed rogue tendencies, and made his last decision as a friend, professor and father and ordered his goons to take the students away from this place safe and sound and threatened them to make sure not a single hair was pulled out of them or anything to cause harm.

He watched as Paulina cried for him, Sam with her brows furrowed at him betrayal etched in her face, Tucker not believing the reality of his favorite professor, Dash frozen in place, Star was holding on to Wes for support, and Danny looked at the Joker in betrayal and anger mouthing the words 'You promised, you promised to not be like them.'

As they were dragged away

Joker only looked away to face the bats, a smile still etched on his face but somehow it looked a little bit dimmer.

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little-forest-goblin · 4 months ago

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Steve blackman i will never not have time to drag you you fucking bitch. You not only ruined a good show with your shitty choices for the fourth season and cut back 6 to 4 but you also blatantly ignored david castenada who tried telling you in the nicest way possible that that fuck ass choice of making a love triangle was uncomfortable and weird. I can't look at any of the interviewings for season 4 because I can feel this thick tension that is awkward between all of them. But lets not just talk about that lets talk about your fucking controversy that has just appeared of you allegedly making a toxic bullying work environment for your staffers. 12 anonymous people gave complaints to HR about your fucking behavior. You pitted staff against each other making an angry and untrustworthy working environment. Oh lets not also talk about the fact there were complaints of your ass making lewd remarks that people said were sexist, homophobic and transphobic. Elliot page praised you for your fucking handling of his characters transition but other sources say you also would praise your team and staff in public and than go behind there back and bully them in private you fucking two faced scumbag. You also would ice out your own fucking staff if they didnt fall in line with what you wanted or would blatantly get rid of them. How fucking power hungry do you have to be to do that shit. Lets not also forget that you were a bastard to a poor pregnant woman who didnt tell you she was pregant when she was hired and had to go on maternity leave so you failed to extend her contract because she didnt make it your business she was pregant you fucking creep. You gossiped and talked shit about your own staff but really you should praise them since they're there to help make this show run. Their there to make this whole operation not fucking crumple and you’d think you’d give them some sort of respect but you wanna act like a little bitch and whine and cry when you dont get your way and get called out when they dont wanna do something that is uncomfortable for not just them but everyone else. Let's also not talk about how you did not give proper credit to those who made scenes and stories for the show and took all that credit for yourself. Your a fucking piece of shit that couldnt come up with your own ideas so you stole everyone else’s because your unoriginal and had nothing good to input within the conversation. On top of all that, I think people should check your computer because you had no problem making a creepy relationship between two vastly differently aged actors. Aidan Gallagher is freshly of age to depict mature romantic relationships within tv shows and you instead of finding someone who is more closely to his age you pick the actress that he GREW UP AROUND. HE WAS A CHILD WHEN THEY FIRST MET. But also fuck Aidans parens too for not maybe coming out and saying that this is fucking creepy. Maybe they where silenced and paid off to stay quiet but looking at Rob gallaghers creepy and controversial fucking behavior anyway, i dont think it took much for them to be silent. The fact that you deny any and all allegations of any of those claims and your representatives tried to save your ass steve and than there was a investigation which surprise sur-fucking-prise was less than comprehensive. You probably paid those investigators off to get off your ass and have your representatives scrambling so you don’t get cancelled and you keep lining your pockets with money that you probably stole from your staff too since you wanna steal their work. so might as well double it and give it back to yourself, right? . Fuck you and everything you stand for steve blackman you toxic, manipulative, predatory, creepy fucking bastard. Fuck you.

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alessiathepirate · 4 months ago

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Squid Game

THE SEARCH: Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Summary: The search for Gi-hun takes its toll on her. Luckily, someone's there to help.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistakes I may have made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: swearing, mentioned death and guns, mentioned and/or referenced trauma and PTSD

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She was dreaming again - that was the reason why she tried to avoid sleep ever since Gi-hun went missing.

--because she was always dreaming about him: him dying, him being alone, him being scared after all that trauma... And her dreams always pointed out her self-blaming - she wasn't supposed to leave him alone, she should be there with him...

Her dreams were troubled once again - with nightmares. She was dreaming about Gi-hun and the marble game, which he failed so he could save another player's life...

That was another reason why she was scared for Gi-hun: because she knew his own life wasn't important to him anymore. She knew it, because she felt the same way.

She woke up to someone shaking her awake. She felt hands grabbing her shoulders, she heard a voice calling out for her - yet she couldn't identify the person; not immediatelly anyway.

Tears were running down her face, blinding her; she could barely breathe; and she could still hear gunshots even though she was no longer asleep.

"Y/N..." she heard her name once more, this time clearer. "You're alright. It was just a dream. Y/N, can you hear me?"

She was shaking - God, she was shaking so badly she barely knew where she was or who she was.

Still, one of those hands gently touched her face, turning her head so her eyes could meet someone else's.

Her lips started to tremble.

"You're okay now. You're awake."

Her fingers wrapped themselves around the hand on her face.

"Jun-ho?"

Reality suddenly hit her and she could feel shame climb up her throat.

She stared into his eyes as he nodded, his lips curled upwards into a faint smile. She swallowed hard as she let go of his hand. Her fingers were still trembling, but she put her hands down and pushed herself upwards into a sitting position. Her blanket fell onto her lap.

"What time is it?" she asked quietly as she raked her fingers through her hair.

"It's almost midnight." Jun-ho said as he grabbed a water bottle from the small desk in the corner of the cabin; he gave it to her, then joined her on the floor.

As she drank she slowly looked around.

They were alone, although she could hear the henchmen, Woo-seok and Captain Park talk outside.

They were probably fishing, she thought. They needed something to do and the Captain needed a distraction after she almost punched him. He would've deserved it though, since he didn't want to look for the damn island late at night. He really should've said a thank you to Jun-ho, because he was the only reason why he didn't get a black eye.

As she put the bottle aside she noted a map and a marker on the desk, under the light of a flashlight. Jun-ho must've been working on finding the island and Gi-hun, when he noticed her trembling in the corner. She was really thankful for his help: for waking her up and for the search.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked as she pointed at the map. "I could've helped."

"Because Woo-seok said you are barely sleeping." Jun-ho looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "And I agree with him."

She didn't want to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." he argued and he sounded like a parent who's about to scold a child. "You barely eat, you barely sleep... I know you want to find Gi-hun more than anything, but you need your strength for it."

Her fingertips started to play with the edges of the blanket. She didn't say anything - she didn't know what to say.

Jun-ho was right, of course he was; but it was impossible to eat and sleep peacefully when guilt and fear was killing her from inside.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" she asked.

"You know what."

She knew - of course she did.

The nightmare was still being replayed in her head, again and again. She could see Gi-hun losing all ten of the marbles, she could hear the gunshots...

One of her hands shakily reached up to wipe away the tears.

When she took too long to answer, Jun-ho turned to look at her, and seeing her crying again made him regret his question.

"I'm sorry... we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." his hand landed on her thigh and before he could pull it away, her hand was on his.

She look up at him, her eyes glassy and her lips once again trembling.

"I dreamt that he died." she said after she swallowed. "That's all I can think about - what if he's dead? He's playing those stupid games again and I'm not there..." her voice sounded angry as she spat those last few words. "I'm not there with him and we promised, we promised that we'd never leave each other..." she took a deep breath. "Gi-hun saved my fucking life more times than I can count. And now I failed him... I'm failing him every single moment when I'm not with him." the tears were burning her cheeks as they ran down her face and landed on the blanket. "Why can't it be me who's in there..."

She was full on crying by then, her body was shaking.

It was a pain so deep and unbearable... And nothing could help. Her heart ached, her whole being felt numb and heavy.

She just wanted it to end - all of it.

Jun-ho let go of her thigh and put both of his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. He made her look him in the eyes.

"Don't say that..." he put some locks of hair behind her ears and then went back to wiping away the tears - since they just didn't want to stop falling. "It's not your fault. None of it. You had no way of knowing what would happen at that party."

Gi-hun didn't let her go in with him. He wanted her to stay in the car with Jun-ho. He wanted her out of danger's way.

She should've fought harder.

"And you didn't fail him..."

"Yes, I did!" she shouted. "I fucking did..."

Jun-ho held onto her tightly, not letting her wiggle away until he was sure she's fine.

"You played Russian roulette for him!" he argued.

She just blinked in surprise.

That was how she met him again - Jun-ho. He wanted to arrest her after she won the game of Russian roulette against the Salesman. And later, when Gi-hun arrived he almost shot Jun-ho for keeping her in cuffs.

"You played Russian roulette, so that guy - that Salesman - wouldn't go after him." Jun-ho repeated. "You didn't fail him. And he knows that. He almost shot me for you."

She continued to cry quietly and he let her. He let her cry it out as he pulled her close, so she could hide her face in the crook of his neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, letting the blanket fall between them, since she finally had someone to talk to, to be honest with. Someone who understood the concept of loss and uncertainity.

"Thank you..." she whispered as she felt his fingers massage her scalp.

"It's nothing." he said. "And I promise you that we'll find him. Okay?" he felt her nod so he continued: "But I need you to get some sleep for that."

"I'll try." she mumbled.

They changed positions. Jun-ho leaned against the wooden wall of the cabin, while she rested her head on his shoulder. Their knees were touching, and she was sure it had been a while since she felt this kind of comfort.

Right then, she needed him.

Her crying slowly died down and she felt like she could both breathe and think again.

"Jun-ho?"

"What's wrong?" she found the panic in his voice adorable - and it felt great to know that someone cared.

"Nothing's wrong, I just... never really apologized for handcuffing you to the bathtub."

She felt his chest rise as he began to laugh, and the sudden change of mood in the cabin felt nice.

"I handcuffed you first. You have nothing to apologize for."

She felt a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I also apologize for accusing you of being one of Them; and for trying to shoot you." she said as she remembered him sitting in the bathtub as she pointed his own gun at him.

Jun-ho chuckled. "I kind of did those first too."

She couldn't help herself - a small, barely there chuckle left her mouth too.

"Well then... thank you, for being here."

Jun-ho didn't answer for a while and she felt ashamed for being so outspoken. Yet a few seconds later he kissed her forehead and she felt a rush of sudden heat run through her whole body.

"Of course, I'll always be here - if you need anything..."

Jun-ho continued to stroke her head; gentle touches caressing her scalp, her neck and then later on: her back. Slowly but surely her eyelids became heavier and heavier - until she fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

Tomorrow she'd wake up with her head on Jun-ho's chest - and somehow her blanket would be over them, keeping them warm.

Tomorrow she'd wake up with a slight feeling of shame, yet she'd have a new reason to keep on going for.

Tomorrow Woo-seok would give her an all-smile thumbs up.

Tomorrow she'd continue the search with a new amount of hope, knowing she has someone who'll help her every step of the way...

#squid game x reader #squid game x fem!reader #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x fem!reader #alessiathepirate #jun ho x reader #jun ho x fem!reader

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mrs-meeks-martin · 5 months ago

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Happy Halloween P1

EthanLandry x Fem!Reader

warnings: inappropriate language, stalkerish behavior, implied crush, freakiness (no smut this part)

PART 2

reblogging appreciated 🙂‍↕️

Ethan Landry, the hot, mysterious boy in the back of your class. You’ve noticed him, having to do some group projects with him once or twice, but you’ve never really paid attention to him otherwise.

When it came to you, he was the complete opposite.

It was like he analyzed your every move. Whenever you were somewhere, like a small little coffee shop on campus, he never failed to be there, watching you. From the shadows, of course. Not like you noticed him. He was always precautious when it came to things like that. Ethan tried to convince himself he wasn’t a stalker, that he was just making sure you were okay. He was only following you everywhere because he cared for your wellbeing, right?

So when you were handing out fliers to a Halloween party that Chad had practically begged you to go to, he took one without hesitation. He doesn’t even go to parties. He just wanted to have contact with your soft hands, the touch sending a jolt through his body that he hid well enough for you not to notice.

“I thought you didn’t go to parties.” You raise a brow at him, puffing out your lips in a pout.

“I don’t.” He replies back, mentally slapping himself in the face. Why would he even say that?

“So then why’re you going? I thought you were smarter than this, nerd.” You poke fun at him playfully, poking his shoulder as you giggle.

She’s touching me- She’s touching me. Even a simple poke was enough to get his heart skipping beats.“Hey, I am NOT a nerd!” He tries to retort back, which ends up being futile. His cheeks flush a light shade of pink, threatening to get darker at the teasing.

“Uh huh… Says the one that did all of the work on our group projects.”

He almost chuckles at that. The only reason he did all of that work was for you. Whenever someone else was working with him, he always made sure that they did their share. But you…

“You better have a killer costume, dork.” You walk away before he can say, “I will…”

A killer costume. He chuckled in his head. She definitely meant a ‘great’ costume, but… Maybe I’ll save myself a couple of bucks and go as Ghostface.

As more people start to file in the party, you wonder where Ethan is. Not that you care, or do you? You really don’t know. You scoop yourself a cup of probably spiked punch and make it to the living area. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone in a Ghostface costume waltz in the party. It’s not the first time someone has done that, but it always seems to give you a strange feeling in your gut.

“Hey, y/n.” Ethan removes his mask and smiles, flashing his pearly whites. He looks you up and down, surveying your costume. You were going for a Harley Quinn look with the cute cropped 3 color-way tee and those short ass shorts paired with the iconic fishnets. Ethan tries his best not to ogle you, but at the end of the day, he’s an adult trapped in a horny teenagers body.

Thank goodness, you say in your head. “When I said a ‘killer costume’ I didn’t actually mean a real killer, dork.” You facepalm, and it makes his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“So you don’t like the costume?” Ethan frowns. I probably shouldn’t have skimped out and just bought some lame outfit from Party City-

Before he can finish his thought, you cut back in and say, “I think it’s pretty cool, It’s hella creepy, though.”

As you finish your sentence, Chad just so happens to see you in the teeming crowd of people and walk over to you.

“Hey, guess who made it!” Chad puts a hand on your shoulder, shaking it hard.

“Hey, Chad! Been a while.” You smile, turning around to hug him. The action makes Ethan clench his jaw. Even though he knew you and Chad were inseparable, (friends wise) that didn’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. However, that all melted away when his eyes drifted down to those shorts. The same shorts that gave him a wonderful view of your-

“Hello? Ethan?” You snap in his face, tilting your head a bit. “Earth to-”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He gives you a strained smile, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his groin. Great. Just great, he thinks, wanting to bang his head against the wall.

You take a drink of your punch as Chad looks at both of you and raises a brow. “Yeah, I sense some serious sexual tension here, so I’m just gonna-” That makes you spit your drink out, some of the liquid coming from your nose.

“I beg your utmost, finest pardon?” You look at Chad with wide eyes and then turn your head to look at Ethan, and you notice how red he is.

“Yeah… That’s my queue.” Chad begins to back away, giving a slow nod to you as he does those stupid hand motions.

Take me with you.. Ethan thinks, not being able to handle the embarrassment.

“Ignore him, He’s probably already drunk, spouting nonsense and whatnot.” You smile awkwardly, trying to avert the attention from what just happened.

“Yeah, yeah-” He nods quickly, trying to also avoid conversing about the topic.

“So uh…” Chad realllyyy wasn’t lying. The tension in the air was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. You broke the awkward silence, trying not to sound corny. “I’m bored as fuck. See, this is why I don’t go to parties anymore.”

“You should leave with me.” Ethan says in a low voice, mustering up all of his courage.

CLIFFHANGER

ps: first actual series! interaction is appreciated 😘

#ethan landry #small artist #ghostface #implied smut #stalker bf #stalker yandere #smut #jealousy #stab me #halloween #happy halloween #scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #scream imagine #scream movie #scream mask #scream series

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amuelia · 2 months ago

Note

How do you think Roose is going to go out in Winds, will he be killed by Ramsay like in the show (in a very different style, obviously) or is it something a bit unexpected?

Not fond of it being similar to the show version because it implies he's not gonna get a lot of screentime in tWoW; it's also kind of a cheap way to give him "karma" for killing robb by just reversing the roles and having roose be at the receiving end of a murderous betrayal. Note also that Theon is absent from this storyline now (since he escaped), and i'd assume Roose as an important tertiary character would have at least one more big chapter in tWoW, so he probably escapes the Winterfell situation alive at the very least until another PoV crosses his path (Asha?).

If Stannis takes Winterfell, i'd assume Roose would be a prisoner for the moment, maybe saved for a Stark to judge over as a show of goodwill; and whatever "northern conspiracy" payoff there is would probably mean that the northmen distance themselves from him as much as possible and make him the fall guy for the entire red wedding + fallout events (which are mostly his fault anyways). Barbrey as a character likely has been added to the story in aDwD to give a bit of diversity to the northern politics, as someone who is not a stark loyalist and has some closer feelings towards roose but also isnt guilty of the red wedding. I think her role might be that she is a bit of a thorn in the otherwise likely clean consensus on what to do with the Bolton problem and she might argue somewhat in Roose' favour politically (maybe arguing against him being executed or otherwise buying him some time).

And the best sword is the one that cuts both ways, he might tell you. Take the Battle of Green Fork. Had his night march taken Lord Tywin unawares and won the battle, he would have smashed the Lannisters and become the hero of the hour. While if it failed... well, you see what happened. The only way he could lose there would be if were captured or slain himself, and he did his best to minimize the chances of that. - GRRM, SSM Feb 3 2001

Roose' storyline so far has been about how he tries to maximize his profits, while also keeping out of harms way and not getting caught. He acts in ways that are morally reprehensive as long as the result is favourable to him and he can get away with it scot free. Yet come aDwD, we start to see that it is getting harder and harder for him to keep this up:

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before—an uneasiness, even a hint of fear. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Ned Stark tried his best to act like a decent person and showed a spine acting openly as such, and after a lifetime of integrity his legacy lives on in his children and people are willing to go to war in his memory. Roose is his foil; he acts morally badly, and spinelessly so as he tries to avoid consequences - so likely as an inversion to Ned his house will go to ruin and the consequences of his actions catch up to him as his modus operandi made him liked by few. So i'd personally find it interesting if he has a fair trial and gets judged the way he deserves, with no way for him to weasel himself out of it again.

My dream tWoW direction would be that he then gets sent to the wall (which also was Ned's initial sentence, another foil moment) and becomes the epilogue PoV and faces an Other - it would be a cool way to hand off the torch from the last big human villain of the wot5k storyline to the center antagonistic force of the war for the dawn storyline (it would also complete the set of Red Wedding architects being epilogue PoVs as the first epilogue in aSoS was a Frey, and the second in aDwD a Lannister). It would also really showcase how inhuman and alien the Others are by taking the coldest and "least humane" human character that everyone jokes is a vampire, and showing that in contrast to them he still is one of us by giving us a view inside his brain and his very human reaction to them.

The real enemy is the cold. - Prologue, aGoT

Reek wondered if Roose Bolton ever cried. If so, do the tears feel cold upon his cheeks? - Reek III, aDwD

He looked deep into the heart of winter, and then he cried out, afraid, and the heat of his tears burned on his cheeks. - Bran III, aGoT

#asks #nizalz #asoiaf #roose bolton #asoiaf meta #not art #ok insane ramble incoming but #when i watched blade runner there was one scene where it seemed to me that #the character of roy batty might have been a bit of inspo to grrm for roose physically #and then theme wise roy batty is an antagonistic character who we are meant to see as inhuman/lacking empathy #but his central scene in the movie proves he actually is as human as deckard #(a scene which grrm describes as giving him chills)#anyways roose is evil but he also is described as very inhuman/cold #yet theon wonders if “roose bolton ever cried”#tears in asoiaf are used as a signifier of humanity #so it feels like the idea of roose being evil yet also proving he is still very human #as opposed to literally an inhuman ice monster #might be something grrm could be interested in #like the very intimate space of being in the brain of a pov and hearing his heartbeats #as he faces an eldritch abomination

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thatnonameuser · 7 months ago

Text

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 6.

So this is strange.

Last time you came here, Alice recognised you and the card soldiers didn't. And now, someone barely mentioned in your childhood storybooks was standing her before you.

Instead of the tiny animated King that the Queen of Hearts could crush underneath her foot should he ever raise his voice, an actual person was cowering and shivering in fear and anxiety, at the thought of his over-controlling wife finding out about you.

This world just kept getting more and more strange....

<Y-you need to l-leave. I-If she loses h-her temper, you'll lose- > He stammers, trying and failing to push you back into the mirror. The glass remains hard, will it be like that till you wake up? Probably.

"I'll lose my head, I get the jist." Why did he notice you? He wasn't mentioned in the original story until the Queen of Hearts was introduced, so why was he here? "I want to leave but......where exactly is here? And please don't tell me some riddle..."

<You're in the Queen's Rose Garden....b-but how did you even get in here? T-The guards sh-should have stopped y-you> You watch him nervously twist his hold on the cape, and if holds it any tighter it might rip in his grip.

"Probably the same way Alice got here-"

His face blanches, turning so white that it rivals the white petals of the roses. <Who....Who's Alice?>

"She's a girl lost in here, she's supposed to be painting the roses with some of the guards, I haven't seen her since-Mmph!" The Red King slaps a palm over your mouth mid sentence, his eyes widening with terror. You can't hear anything, but you can feel the hand over your mouth start to shake violently.

<Th-the girl....I need to get her out before she finds her!> He takes off running into the depths of the rose garden. Well, the dream brought you here for some reason, maybe he is.

"Hey! Wait up!" You chase after him, because what other choice do you have? Whatever the mirror wanted to show you, what you'd seen already clearly wasn't it.

The Red King disappears around a corner, which you follow only to skid to a stop. You arrived at the original rose garden from your first dream, and it's now filled with dozens of card soldiers. You take a few steps back until you're somewhat hidden by the bushes. Maybe it's best to heed the King's warning, especially with who's in it right now.

Wielding a massive rosebush of red and half painted roses, over her head in anger, with the roots of the bush still clinging to some of the dirt it had been planted in, is the Queen of Hearts.

<For painting my roses red, someone will lose his head!> She looks exactly like the statue in the main street, and her colors have been drained to match the greyscale environment around you. The only color, still a deep red, makes up her dress. She reminds you of the tiny animated King of Hearts.

And she's infuriated.

A paint covered Alice is at her feet with the card soldiers from earlier, who cower fearfully.

<Y-Your Majesty, if anyone's to blame, it's him!> <Have mercy, Your Grace. It was the Ace!> <Gah, no, it was the TWO!> <It was the Three, I say!> The card soldiers are quick to turn on each other, desperate to escape the Queen's wrath.

<Enough of this. Off with ALL their HEADS!> The Queen's voice booms with rage, and a part of you thinks she's going to save herself time with a beheading, and just beat them to death with her rose bushes.

The Red King runs in between with the Queen and her future victims, trying to shield them from his angry 'wife', though captor might be more appropriate. <D-Dear please, they were just trying to correct their mistake!> He tries to reason with her, but as you watch her grip tighten around the rose bushes, it's safe to assume he's doing the opposite.

<Winston, are you disobeying me?> The Queen's voice is deathly low, as if threatening the King, or Winston, to choose his next words carefully.

You watch Winston's face morph into one of abject terror. <No! NO! Of course not! I-I would nev- >

The Queen's hand shoots out and grips his ruffled collar pulling him close, but like a movie you can still hear what she says despite it being a quiet hiss of a threat. <Then, I suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it along with your HEAD!> She yells that last part, just terrifies the person she's supposed to call her 'one true love' more.

Winston looks like he's going to pass out from fear, and even from this far away, you can see him trembling and hear his shakey reply, <Y-Yes, dear. I-I'm sorry.>

The Queen smiles, triumphant, pressing a soft peck to the still terrified and trembling Winston's cheek, either ignoring the evident fear on his face or not caring, before her rage comes forth full strength. <NOW OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS>

<Ooooooh! Yaaaaay!>The surrounding card soldiers cheer at the death sentence. The Red Queen smiles in glee at the reception to her verdict, while her husband's eyes meet yours.

Terrified. He's terrified. Why is this considered love, this is just abuse.

<Hee hee hee.> The Queen's even laughing, for shit's sake!! How in the hell was this romanticized! In any way!

The cards start to sing, and it's a chilling tune.

The world starts to fade around you. Are you waking up? But you still don't know what's going on here. Why was the mirror showing you this anyway?

Was it trying to convince you this world was even worse than it was?! Because it worked.

You open your eyes to your bedroom ceiling. The sunshine from outside tells you it's dawn. "It was just roses. Why didn't anyone try to help Winston? Why didn't anyone else try to stop the Queen?" You mutter.

You sit up and stare at the window, now normal. Not glowing, no ripples. Slipping Grim from your arms, you slip out of the blankets and approach the mirror. Setting your palm on the glass, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't faze through or pull you into another world.

"So......was it all just a dream?" You don't even have an answer to that, and you're just as confused as you were before. Why do you keep dreaming things like this? What was the point of seeing the life that poor Winston lived?

Is.....Is there someone watching? Is there someone watching you and sending you these? As a warning or to help?

But the contents of your dream, minus what Winston was going through, felt similar to reality. Riddle had kicked out Ace for a petty reason. Sure, it was theft, but it wasn't something worth taking someone's magic over. And if your experience from lunch yesterday held any water, then the card soldiers of Heartslabyul were just complicit. Willing to stand aside if it meant keeping their heads, or in this case, their magic.

But since today's the unbirthday party, let's hope your reality doesn't mimic your dream.

You're still lost in thought about your dream as you push through your morning routine. You're no expert on bad omens, but this feels like a bad omen. Like a really bad omen.

To be honest, you didn't have very high hopes for today. Not because you thought Ace was going to supremely fuck it up, but because having high hopes shot you in the foot yesterday and that was a really long and grueling day. And a little because you thought someone was going to fuck things up.

Mornings are hard enough when you know that you have a long day ahead of you. It's even harder when that long day might involve a lost head.

So when Ace finally pulled himself out of bed, or rather off your couch, while Deuce was using your bathroom, you weren't expecting much.

You also weren't expecting him to take you by surprise while you made breakfast.

He also probably wasn't the punishment of having a rubber spatula slapped across his face.

"What the hell, Ace!" You scream, your once clean uniform now covered in pancake batter from when you jumped in surprise. "Don't scare me like that!"

You're just glad you are making pancakes when he sets his hands on your shoulders instead of taking the pan out because that pan would have probably made a permanent indent in his skull.

“Jumpy much, Prefect?” He laughs, massaging the reddening bruise forming on his face.

You groan, “And to think I bothered to make you breakfast….”

Ace’s eyes brighten at the mention of food. “Well, don’t mind if I-”

You snatch the plate out of reach and let a teasing smile cross your face, “Well, I guess you can wait till the party to eat then. Since you’re fine with scaring the person feeding you…”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry ______.” He puts on his most apologetic looking face as he ‘apologizes’, and it’s so melodramatic that it makes you laugh, “Food, please.”

You hand them over with a laugh, “Just don’t finish them, the Great Grim will be very hangry if he doesn’t get his tower of pancakes in the morning.”

Ace stuffs one into his mouth, before his eyes widen, “D’l’shush.” He says with his mouth full, and swallows before continuing, “Can you cook for me everyday, Prefect?”

You wipe the stray batter from your vest, there goes your last clean shirt. “Will it stop you from stealing your dorm leader’s tarts?”

“You aren’t letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” You say with a teasing smile on your face, before turning back to breakfast making. A peaceful start to the morning is nice. It’s probably going to get hectic later on, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

“Hey, uh, Prefect, can I ask you something?” Ace pauses mid-sentence for some reason, “Something important.”

There it is, “Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” You stop to think for a second. You remember Ace and Deuce talking last night but not what it was about. You occasionally dragged into it, but you responded with one word answers. Now you wish you hadn’t. But you were so tired last night.

“N-Not really.” You curse yourself mentally for the stutter, but you feel the peaceful feeling leech away from your body. You don’t like where this is going.

“We talked about you a lot last night. You didn’t seem to notice.” And now you really didn’t like where this was going. “Juice told me about what happened on Main Street after you went to bed.”

You can feel Ace’s stare through your back. Please don’t go down this street. Please. “Y-Yeah about the delinquents….”

“Yeah, we talked about that but I’m talking about what you told him.” Dammit Deuce, you knew that Ace and Deuce are slowly growing into their friendship, but if Deuce was obsessed with you, why the hell was he telling Ace about your private conversations.

But Deuce is a yandere that doesn’t know about how to be a yandere. Because his mother, seven bless her, had tried to shield him from the influence that probably made her own life hell for a time. And Ace is a yandere who does know about this stuff.

Who better to ask than your knowledgeable roommate.

“About what?” You can feel your heart speed up.

“About your home world.” The grate of a chair on the floor tells you that he stood up, followed by footsteps tell you that he is so much closer. “You’re burning the pancakes Prefect.”

“Shit!” You snap out of your stupor, tossing the burnt pan into the nearby sink. Great, this is going splendidly. “W-What about my homeworld?”

You can feel Ace’s breath by your ear, he’s that close. You can feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense. “About how your world sees darlings and stuff. Do they really punish what we do?”

He’s suspicious. Fuck, he’s suspicious. You should have asked Deuce to keep it a secret. But that could have made you suspicious to him. Talk about a Catch 22.

“Yeah….it’s,” You turn to face him. Your face is so close to his. It’s that stupid collar that grants you some distance. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it probably is, is that why you freaked out in class? Because what’s allowed in our world isn’t in your world ____?”

Um…”Yes?”

“But why were you scared?” Okay, you are taking back all of your ‘Ace is an idiot’ comments. He’s actually very perceptive. And to you, that’s a bad thing.

Ace studies you as you reply “I-I thought murder was going a little far..?”

Ace smiles at that and a sigh of relief bubbles into your throat. “Yeah, I get that, my dad told me he’d be pissed if I killed someone on campus.” Phew.

“After all, it’s not like you’re hiding something Prefect. I mean you have this charm to you that pulls people to you, it would be terrible if someone thought you were a darling." Do you agree? Why does it feel like this is a trick? You hold your face as calm as possible, given your pulsating heart beat. If this is a test, you are not failing it.

“Yeah, it would be. But it’s not.” You cross your arms in an attempt to exude dominance but like the last time you still feel a little small.

“But if you were, It’s not like I’d do anything to ya, Prefect.” He pulls you in closer in a ‘hug’, which it would be if his collar wasn’t in the way. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Not really, you trust him as far as you can throw him, which isn’t even possible.

“If Prefect was what?” Deuce pokes his head in the kitchen, Grim is a bubbling mix of hangry in his arms.

“It’s nothing, Juice.” he pulls away from you and you can still feel chills. “Just if Prefect was a darling, we wouldn’t hurt her, right?” You hate how he gives you one of his friendly smirks when he finishes that statement.

“Oh, yeah we wouldn’t.” Deuce smiles at you. But it doesn’t soothe you. In fact, it makes the underlying terror even worse. “Ow! Grim!”

Grim frees himself from Deuce’s arms with a well placed bite to his forearm. In his morning grumpiness and anger, he exclaims, “Henchman! You left me!"

You force a smile. "To make you breakfast boss. Eat." You hold out a plate full of food that Grim happily snatches, devouring it with usual gusto. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite. You’ll just eat at the party, where there’s an audience to whatever happens to you.

Plus, after what just happened, it’s for the best that Grim keeps full today. The last thing everyone needs is Grim to eat one of the sacred tarts before Riddle does.

But right now, all you want to do is leave. Leave the horrible oppressing air beating down on you to smother you in fear. And you have an excuse to leave, drying pancake batter on your shirt. Quickly, you shove another plate full into Deuce’s arms. "Help yourself, Deuce. We have a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna go and change my shirt.” The sooner you’re out of here, the calmer you’ll be.

Deuce gives you an appreciative smile but he looks concerned. “T-Thanks but…Are you okay Prefect?”

You calmly, not really but you really did try to act calm, shake your head. “Yeah, fine. Just…..” You’re too scared to be alone with them right now, “Don’t want to be late to the unbirthday party. Be right back!”

As you get a good distance away from the kitchen, you press yourself to the wall. It’s a great thing that the walls are thin.

“What did you tell her Ace?!” Deuce’s whispering sounds outraged. So he was putting up a front for you.

“Hey, I just asked her whether she was a darling or not, plain and simple. Besides, we both know we wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I don’t think she thinks that…”

“It’s not like we're going to. Take it from me Juice. First rule of dealing with darlings, don’t make them feel afraid.”

“If she is a darling…” Deuce doesn’t believe it. Thank the seven, he doesn’t believe it.

“You don’t think she is?”

“No..Not really.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. If she’s not a darling then, we’ll figure something out.” What does that mean? What does figuring something out entail?

There’s silence for a bit, as if Deuce is thinking about something, “But we’re scaring her…”

“Well, after the unbirthday party we’ll make her feel better. Spend time with her, make her trust us again. Don’t worry about it, Deuce.”

Silence, followed by an, “Alright.” The sound of something heavy hitting your cabinets and the noise resounds through the house. “But if you’re wrong about this and we end up hurting her, you’ll be sent home in pieces–if there’s even enough of you left to send out.”

“Got it. You gotta trust me more on this Juice, y’know since I’m the only one that knows about this stuff.”

“Fine. But you better not be wrong.” Shit. So they’re both suspicious of you and even worse, they’re working together. At least somewhat.

But there is some hope. Deuce, above all else, doesn’t want you to be hurt. If you use that against him, then maybe you can use this to your advantage. As a figurative bodyguard, to protect you from harm.

Another bombing knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of their skin. “Helllooo!?” It’s Cater, not the best person to pop up, but beggars cannot choose.

“I-I’m coming!” You call out as Ace’s and Deuce’s voices hush at the sound of your voice. But you already doubt that you would get any more information.

As expected Cater has a very bright smile greets you as soon as you open the door, "Good mooorning! Did you enjoy your sleepover? Did you bond over pillow fights and card games?”

“N-Not really, I was really tired. Could barely stay awake.” Cater’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t vocalize whatever he realized. “W-Why are you here so early?”

Cater pushes past you into the foyer, and envelopes you into a hug. “Do I need a reason to see my favorite underclassmen?”

You squirm in his hold, “No, but-”

“Oh, it’s you Cater.” Ace, Deuce and Grim all poke their heads out of the kitchen in confusion.

“Hiiii, did you have fun?”

“Yeah, but-”

Cater interrupts them, “Well, you should get one of the tarts we made yesterday and go apologize to Riddle.” Cater hesitates for a moment and his expression drops into a frown, “And you should probably hurry, because after the trouble yesterday, we’re a little short handed.” Is something wrong because he’s never this serious.

“What does that mean?” “Don’t worry. I’ve totes got it under control. Anyway, off to the party we go!”

“Wait, I haven’t changed-” Whatever you were about to say is cut short by Cater dragging you by your arm all the way to Heartslabyul, with Ace, Deuce and Grim not far behind. So after this shitshow of a morning you’ll be attending an important tea party with a super strict dictator with dried pancake mix on your shirt. Thanks Ace.

Heartslabyul looks as neat as ever, with the rose bushes perfectly trimmed, et cetera, et cetera.

Ace, massive chestnut tart in hand, is prepared to march inside and spare you the additional migraine. “All right, so I’ll hand over the tart and say I’m sorry, then-”

But no, no that’s not happening.

Because Cater popped out of the rose maze. The same Cater that was still holding your arm at the mirror entrance, a good ten feet away. And y’know what. You might want to consider visiting Sam for some extra-strength headache medicine.

Cater B waves at Cater A, “Hey, it’s about time I got back! Good to see me!”

Cater A, not bothering to explain his sudden perfect copy, waves back at him. “And me! Looking good as always, me!”

Well at least you could now explain how he gave that flower to you in the rose garden yesterday. Wait if he can clone himself, doesn’t that mean he can send a clone out to follow you around?

“Bwuh?”

“Th-There’s two Caters?!”

“Are you guys identical twins?!”

You don’t share your friends’ noise of confusion, it’s already 7 AM and you’re exhausted for the day.

“Nope. Don’t have any siblings.” The explanation is one you were expecting, it’s his unique magic ‘Split Card’ that allows him to clone himself. Cool. That's just cool. Deuce puts two and two together about their loss yesterday, but once again, you’re already exhausted.

And more headaches come jumping out of the bushes.

“Welcome home, daaarlings.”

“Good to see you, ____”

You yelp as more appear from nowhere. Just how many of these can he make at once. He could be his own card soldier army if he wanted, for seven’s sake!

“J-S-Y-K, I’m actually the real Cater.” No,we are not playing this game of who’s the real Cater, you’re here to give Riddle this stupid tart and then you’re eating too much of Trey’s desserts. Not this game of human bullshit.

“Making these duplicates is suuuper exhausting, so I can’t maintain them for long.” Well, that’s a little relief. But Riddle’s left Ace’s collar on for a good day now, is there not a time limit for magic or something? Has Riddle not slept to make sure the collars stay on or something? “Anyway , if we’re late, heads will roll. And since we’re several people short, we’ll need your help.”

“But-” You start but Cater interrupts you.

“When this is over, I promise I’ll take you straight to Riddle.” Well, there goes head straight to Riddle, this better not bite you in the ass.

Wait. Oh, not the roses again.

“What, MORE roses?”

“And here we go again!”

You sigh, let’s get this over with already.

And now, red paint now joined the creme-colored mess on your vest and shirt. Today was becoming as big a mess as your shirt. Yay….

But on the brightside, Deuce and Grim managed to get the hang of painting the roses with magic.

On the dark side, painting the roses took so long that it was time for the unbirthday party to start.

So now you were in the extravagantly decorated tea garden still stuck with that stupidly big tart that should have been given to Riddle an hour ago, thanks Cater.

By now, all the Heartslabyul students had gathered in the garden, and, at least to you, it’s not very festive for a party. Everyone, decked out in a pretty cool uniform, looks as stiff as a soldier on the battlefield. As if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Some students buried in the crowd have collars just like Ace’s around their necks, the rule breakers collared like dogs with a cone of shame. It’s just barbaric.

The sound of trumpets make the few slouching stand at attention in utter silence and terror, as one of the students play announcer, a something of Spades.

“All Hail our Leader, the Red Sovereign Himself….Dorm Leader Riddle!” You instinctively cringe at the title. Who would willingly want to call someone that, and isn’t clearly joking?

The man of the hour walks in with all the nonchalance of someone who definitely didn’t hear what you just did, but the card soldiers do exactly as the ones in your dream did, and forgive the pun, followed suit.

“We salute you, Dorm Leader Riddle!” Are they not going to introduce Trey? He’s right next to Riddle and the Vice Dorm Leader. But for some reason, they don't. Is this why Trey seems so insecure?

Riddle inspects every nook and cranny of the tea garden as if looking for the tiniest error or mistake, from the table cloths to the flamingo enclosure for what you hope isn’t an actual croquet game with live animals. You watch each of the other dorm students tense in fear as he makes his rounds.

After too many minutes of silence, Riddle finally makes his judgment, “Hm. The garden roses are red, the tablecloths are white…This seems a proper unbirthday indeed.”

The surrounding dorm students all sag in visible relief. How much of a traditionalist and a perfectionist is this guy?!

“Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapot,” There’s a what in the what?!, “as there should be?” Just as you make a mental note to not drink the tea, you watch the formerly relaxed card soldier tense up like someone lit a fire under their ass.

Though they sag again when Trey tells Riddle that they’ve prepared everything to the Queen of Hearts, and Riddle’s expectations.

Just how much fear has Riddle instilled in the hearts of his fellow dorm mates?

Grim seems less concerned with the terror on the faces of nearly everyone here and is more concerned with their outfits. “Myah! Those are some fancy duds!”

You have to agree they are pretty nice, but they are bigger things to focus on here right now, like how the soldiers seem like they're about to have a stroke with all the stress they’re under.

“These are the Heartslabyul dorm clothes.” Cater explains, “Aren’t they fierce? At the forefront of fashion, and they look great in Magicam.”

“Yeah, but-” There’s a flash of light to your left, and Cater’s in his dorm uniform.

“One of the Queen’s rules mandates formal dress on party days.” Once again cool, but you want to know about- “As a show of kindness from a beloved mentor, I’ll help coordinate your outfits.”

Another light flashes, and you feel the dirty clothes you’re wearing ripple around your body, reforming and changing.

In place of the messy version of your Ramshackle, is a version of the Heartslabyul uniform fit precisely to your style of dress (masc version/fem version).

It’s nice, not bad but nice. As long as you get those clothes back, you don’t really have clothes to spare.

Ace and Deuce are in uniforms that match the rest of the card soldiers, and even Grim’s bow matches the Heartslabyul colors.

“Whoa!”

“Lookin’ sharp!”

“Myah! So cool! Henchman, do I look cool!”

“Yes, you do. You look very cool, Grim.” Grim smiles in your arms, and you might as well complement the other two who call you friend, “You both look fantastic too!”

The two’s faces brighten as they smile at you. “T-Thanks!”

“So do you, Prefect!”

“Now, let’s tear this party up! And don’t forget to give Riddle the tart.”

“Yes! Let’s not delay this anymore! Give him the tart.” You’re about to push Ace in the direction of the tyrannical and not your damn problem dorm leader. When the sound of teacup being hit by a teaspoon rings out. “Oh, c’mon!”

“Before we begin the croquet tournament, let us make a toast. Does everyone have their teacup?” You pick one of the teacups up as politely as possible to keep the dorm leader’s eyes off you. But if you grip it any harder, you’re going to break the china.

“On this most significantly unauspicious of days, I bid all in attendance….a very merry unbirthday!” That tart that got Ace kicked out better be good for all you had to go through.

The whole garden repeats the same cheer, minus you because you’re going to lose it the longer you stay.

“Ace, this is your chance!” Cater whispers.

“Yes, finally. Ace, let’s go.” You practically drag Ace by his arm all the way up to Riddle, careful to prevent that tart from falling to the ground because if something happens to that damn tart you’re going to lose your mind. “Now apologize, like you mean it. Even if you don’t.”

“Right…Uh, dorm leader, sir…”

“Ah, it’s you. The tart thief. Oh, and _____, I see you’ve been keeping out of trouble.” Ace gives you a confused look.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” you whisper, before turning your attention back to the tyrant, “Yes, I have,” You laugh nervously. “I wanted to make sure that Ace apologized….correctly.”

“Do you, now?” Riddle crosses his arms, awaiting that apology. Don’t screw it up Ace.

“Yeah, so I wanted to apologize for eating that tart. We made you a new tart to replace it.”

“Hmm? And what kind of tart is it?” So far so good. Now just tell him what is before they cut that nice looking cake over there. You’re really hungry now.

“I’m so glad you asked! It’s a chestnut tart, and I swear, we weren’t stingy with the chestnuts.” Okay, no snark, nothing that can be taken out of context, we’re almost through the woods.

Riddle reacts like he’s just been struck. “A CHESTNUT tart?!” Shit.

“What?!”

“Is��is something wrong?”

Riddle’s eye twitches in anger, “The Queen of Heart’s rule 562: One must never bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party.” FUCK.

Riddle looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. “This is an utterly flagrant rule violation! Do you not understand what you’ve done?!” Oh no….” You’ve ruined an otherwise perfect unbirthday!”

“Rule 562..?!” How many fucking rules are there!?

“How many of these rules are there?!”

“There are 810 rules in all,” What the FUCK, “And as dorm leader I can of course recite each and every one of them.” What the hell….

Shit, you need to damage control, “W-Wait, we didn’t know that! And besides, we weren't planning on bringing it to the unbirthday party.”

Riddle, like an asshole, ignores you, “As dorm leader of a dorm established to honor the Queen of Hearts’ rigor, I cannot ignore this. Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!”

Fuck this place.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere twst x reader #yandereverse au

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