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syluss-littlecrow · 16 days

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better than the devil

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings.

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out.

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone.

Then his gaze shifts to you.

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves.

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds.

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now.

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit.

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.”

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours.

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon.

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise.

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap.

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that.

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base.

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears.

So you decide to leave it for now, at least.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance.

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago.

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you.

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable.

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them.

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them.

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head.

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown.

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did?

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out.

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed.

Close call.

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round.

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time.

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong.

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns?

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus.

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns.

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile.

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption.

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk.

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed.

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard.

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow.

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven.

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain.

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back.

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure.

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up.

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him.

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his.

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek.

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties.

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls.

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles.

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock.

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping.

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze.

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base.

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too.

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants.

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart.

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus.

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed.

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load.

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes.

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner.

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

#love and deep space sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deep space smut #love and deepspace #lnds sylus #lnds smut #lnds x reader #l&ds sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #sylus x you #sylus qin #sylusposting #sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus #lads sylus #slyus #qin che

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insertdisc5 · 9 months

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📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

#reference #tutorial #writing #rpgmaker #renpy #video games #game design #i had this in my drafts for a while so you get it now. sorry its so long #long post

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taeyongdoyoung · 1 month

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hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

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ja3hwa · 1 month

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♡ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

【Synopsis】 : a new book shop had opened on the block, and a certain marfia leader was interested in the sweet little owner.

『Word count』 : 9.01k

-> Genre: Mafia. Smut. Romance.

Pairing: Perv!MobBoss!Yunho! X Librarian!Reader

[Warnings] : Pervy Yunho. Like I mean this man is so horny for the reader it's crazy. Really shameless flirting and a lot of flustered most likely cringe moments but it's fine… I promise. Mention of criminal activity. Yunho is a classy criminal, what can I say. Swearing. Tension. Inappropriate thoughts. Strangers to Lovers?? Domestic play. These two already act like an old married couple, confirmed. Making out, oral(f). Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex.

Author note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING YAYA!! I hope you enjoy this little treat. This is plot heavy. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I had such bad word vomit. May or may not end up writing another part, we’ll see ahh. Ah, i love you ♡ @skteezcursed ♡

Also this is not beta read so please be mindful of any mistakes ♡

Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

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“I’m just saying why can’t you get one of the field boys to do it. You got a meeting in thirty, and I don’t see how explaining to them you were ‘out for an errand’ will solve your tardiness.” The driver scoffed yet again as he took the next right towards the new shop that had just opened a few weeks ago in town. A little book shop. There hadn’t been a proper book shop in this part of the city in years, and Yunho was immediately interested in it.

“Like I said, I want to see this place for myself. I don’t need one of those knuckleheads barging in like they own the place. And none of those bozos will ever say a word. I could be a day late, and they’ll all pretend they were just early.” Yunho rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his whiskey. He felt tired just thinking about that meeting. The one he’s been putting off for months. “Stop here.”

San sighed in defeat before taking a spot on the busy road. No one seemed to bat an eye as a black Chevy Suburban rolled up, but then again, most people on this side of town knew exactly who the car belonged to. “Meet me back here in twenty. Go grab us a coffee or something.”

“Wait but, Sir. You can't just—” Yunho slammed the door to the car. “Leave…”

The little bell on the top of the door rang cutely as Yunho entered the quiet establishment. There was barely anyone in here, if not no one at all. Perfect. He thought, given he wanted to be able to meet you in peace. And there you were, casually placing books in their rightful places on the shelves. You are wearing a cute sundress with an apron over it. There’s a little sun pattern all over the fabric, making it match with the pastel yellow ribbon in your hair. You were the most beautiful thing Yunho had ever laid eyes on. And the first time he noticed you were in the cafe, a few shops down. You bought a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. He still remembers the smile on your face when you took that first sip, getting a little foam moustache as a result.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss your sweet face then and there. So naturally, he looked you up. Finding out you had opened up this vintage-urban store. You had moved from outta town, but no one knew where, and your family and history was a mystery. Even to him and his beast detectives. You were no one. And that made you even more interesting. “Come on..just..g-go.”

You were on your tip toes trying to reach the top shelf to put a book back but you being forgetful, left the stool in the back closet and you had decided it was too much of an effort to go back and get it now. You jumping was what you resorted to. You looked like a rabbit in Yunho’s eyes. A sweet little rabbit that’s breast bounced perfectly with every hop. The scrunch in your nose and little tongue poking made him wonder what your face would look like if when you were fucked just right.

His feet moved swiftly until he was flush behind up. You felt his broad chest before you heard him as he softly grabbed the book from your delicate fingers and placed it where it needed to be on the shelf. But what ultimately caught your attention was his smooth voice. “Looked like you needed some help, doll.”

Oh right then and there you felt your life was about to change very dramatically and oh, how it did excite you. “T-thanks.”

“Anytime.” His deep voice spilled in your ears like butter, and his cologne danced around you making the outside world cease to exist. He was walking sex on legs, something out of a dark romance novel and you knew exactly who he was. “So, have you got any book suggestions?”

Your smile grew when he asked the question but Yunho was cringing inside. That was really the best he could do. He’s been watching you for weeks and that was all he could mutter up. You on the other hand, chirped, plodding off deeper into the store. Yunho followed as he watched you scanning the shelves, your fingers tracing the spines of multiple books as you passed them, your mouth quivering out the titles of each one. “Here we go!” You grabbed a black book off the shelf. It had a red misty design all around it with bold white lettering in the centre. It looks magical, like you. “This is one of my favourites. But be warned, it’s a lot of info dumping at the start. But the ending is worth it.”

“Thanks doll. What is it about?” Yunho’s smile makes your heart shake, your fingers grazing his as you hand him the book. Your throat became dry, unable to think of the right words to describe the novel…”Oh it's fantasy…”

You snapped out of your brain as you see the man scanning the blurb on the back, his smile growing into a sly smirk as he read some of the words, Romantic, erudite and suspenseful. You put your jittering hands in the pockets of your apron as you tried your best not to blush. “Y-yeah.. yes. I. It's really good. It’s got witches and vampires, all sorts of creatures.”

Your little ramble caused Yunho to smile ear to ear. The way your face slowly lit up the more you spoke about it, the dramatic movements of your hands as you used them to further express your emotion. He had come to the conclusion you were the cutest thing on the planet. And he would do anything to protect that. “Well I’ll definitely give it a read, sunshine.”

Your like deepened the shade of pink upon hearing the cute nickname that slipped from the tall man. You felt like your legs were slowly turning to jelly at the thought not only was he hot as all fuck, but he was in fact a reader, like you. “T-Tell me what you think when you finish it.”

“I shall.” His remark was quick, the smirk making your heart race. When was he this close to you? Was he always this close to the point you can smell his cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath. You gulped, watching his eyes scan from your eyes to your lips, before letting his own by swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I needed to speak with you about something as well.”

His deep authorial voice rattled in your mind, suddenly shaking you from your fantasy, making you remind yourself who exactly was standing in front of you. You nodded with a small ‘of course’ before walking towards the front counter. Yunho followed you as he spoke, “I’m assuming you know who I am…” his throat felt dry at his own words.

“Everybody knows who you are, Mr Jeong.” Your words seemed flattened, almost worried. In truth you were scared, but the murmurs that circled when you first entered the city was not something you took lightly. The cruelness people spoke off. The ruthless man known as the Viper. Mr Jeong Yunho. Too young to be a mafia lord, yet here he stood, powerful, feared and wealthy. “I suppose you were here originally for business then...”

Yunho watched as you took out the logs of the shop, no longer making eye contact with him. Of course you knew who he was, why was he so stupid in thinking he could pretend for one single moment to be someone else. To be a normal guy that could sway the sweet sunflower that owns the book shop. A fantasy, he thought, one that won't come true. “I protect these shops on this street. And I was wondering if you would be interested in getting into the same agreement.” he bit his tongue, trying his best to be professional.

“And what do I have to do to get this sort of treatment…” Your hands were shaking more than you’d like them too, not wishing to look into his cold eyes. But his eyes weren't cold, in fact they were swimming in conflict. He didn’t need anything from you, just like the other shops. No, he protected people that needed it and in return he asked for their favour. Nothing more nothing less. But he didn’t want a favour from you. No he just wanted…

“A smile.” Yunho said sternly.

“W-what?” You finally looked up at him to see a soft smirk on his shaded pink features and then he replied again..

“I want you to smile.”

You couldn’t help but yearn for Yunho every time you opened your shop. Waiting for him to walk in through those doors like he did almost two weeks ago now. you still remember the butterflies in your tummy as he said his goodbye…

“Like that.” Your smile grew bigger as he stepped closer to the counter. “It suits you so much.” He picked up your hand gently before placing the softest kiss on your knuckles. You swore your heart stopped at that moment. “I’ll be seeing you, sunshine.”

And with that he left, leaving your blood rushing to your ears and a hefty tip on your counter.

“Hey, so do I sort the biographies by title or by author.” The young worker so reluctantly hired comes rushing in from the store room, his shirt on the wrong way and his laces barely tied… his mother had practically begged you to give him work since he was almost twenty-three and still without job experience. And now you can see why no one wanted to hire the poor thing. He wasn’t the brightest.

“Uh yeah. By author and make sure they are put in the end row by the nonfiction section, please.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you watched him stumble away to the back of the shop, his laces making him side step.

And then you heard a crash. Followed by a quick, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” You felt like you needed to ask.

The young boy rounded the shelf, looking back at you with a face as bright of a pink as the poor flowers he was holding. He had broken another vase... perfect.

“Just put it in the back.” You scratched your chin sighing as he repeated over and over ‘I’m sorry’ while cleaning up the what you’d count as the fourth vase filled with flowers. You shook your head, looking back at the receipt logbook again, going over all the money you’d have made since opening. It was surprising, to say the least, the amount of people that have purchased or borrowed books in such little time made you giddy. You felt a sense of accomplishment at the idea people were reading. The sound of the doorbell chimed, shifting your attention to a possible new customer. “Hello, how can I help…”

“Hey Sunshine.” Yunho’s face beamed with happiness upon seeing you. His casual wear catches you off guard. He almost looked normal and not some big bad mob boss who could get away with your murder. “I’ve read your book.”

“Y-yunho.” You perked, closing the logs before quickly rounding the front desk until you were almost inches from him. Close enough to smell his gorgeous cologne. “That didn’t take you long…”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, reminding himself he had spent hours reading the book when he should have been working. But who was going to yell at him for it anyway? No, he needed to finish the book quickly so he could have something to talk about. “No, I fell in love with it on page one. And besides, the quicker I read it. The quicker I could come back here and ask you for another.”

Your face blushed as he took a step closer. You gulp at the proximity, practically feeling his body heat. His on hand leaning on the counter behind you, closing the distance. "D-do, you have any in mind..."

Yunho watched your eyes flutter close, taking in his aura. He couldn't help but smirk at how much he affected you. Infecting your perfect little innocent act, because from what he read in that novel, he knew you were the sunshine he depicted you as, no, there was a dark streak inside you, and he wanted desperately to draw it out. "I was curious if you got something more spicy. Hmm."

"S-spicy!?" You gasp, opening your eyes to gaze into Yunho deep ones, his pupils blown out, almost consuming all the chocolate in his eyes. His smile only grew, placing his other hand on the other side of your body, now trapping you between his large body and the counter.

"Oh, I know you've got ideas, baby. That book wasn't as innocent as you remember, hm." The tilt in his head made you dizzy. His face inches from yours. If you wanted, you would only need to move an inch to close the gap. To finally feel those lips you'd been dreaming about for the past couple of weeks.

"I could give you some suggestions..." You whispered your breath, mixing with his. Yunho bit his bottom lip, inching closer and closer until his lips graze yours and just enough to—

"I think I lost the log book again in the...." The young boy, frozen, almost dropping some of the books that he held tightly in his hand. Yunho sighs, reluctantly pulling away slowly. You looked down at your feet, feeling like your heart was going to jump right out of your chest. "S-sorry."

"It's okay, George. Just.. Did you leave it on the desk in the back again?" You answered the poor boys' question, making his face light up with cringe. He muttered to himself before scurrying off towards the back room. You look back at the man still caging you against the counter, but his gaze was elsewhere. On the young boy, in fact. Yunho could explain it, but he knows that kid. He's seen him somewhere. His face is so familiar yet lost. "Are you okay?"

Your little murmur caught the mob boss's attention, turning his attention to you once again. He cleared his throat before standing up straight, almost making himself bigger than normal. His gaze still flickered to where the back room was. His gut told him something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. "Yeah, don't worry, sunshine." He finally looked back at you, gifting you one of his award winning smiles, "I'm good."

"Well. I should be getting back to work." You felt a slight twinge of embarrassment circle in your tummy. Getting caught in the arms of a man like Yunho but being caught almost kissing him. That was a scandal and a half. Argh, you can practically hear all the old bettys in the street gossiping already. You go to turn away from him, but his hand grips your upper arm, swinging you into his chest. His free hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me take you out." He smirked.

"A date?" You questioned.

"Yes. I like you, sunshine. If that wasn't obvious enough." He could see your ears start to turn pink as you tried to look everywhere else. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears, feeling an overwhelming sense of every emotion under the sun. He leaned closer until his lips grazed your ear, whispering, "Think about it. I'll come back Friday afternoon before you close, and you can tell me your answer."

He lightly kissed your cheek before letting you go, walking out another thought. You just stood there, shocked, thrilled and absolutely terrified.

"You can't go."

"What?" You knitted your brow as you turned to George standing in one of the aisles. He jumped, changing his expression from a plan and cold expression to one of bewilderment.

"Uh, what I mean is you shouldn't. He's not a good man." You can see his grip on the books tighten as he grits his teeth. Your expression stayed the same as you turned your back to him, opening the logbook to where you were before.

"I know who he is." Your words were cold, blunt, almost shocking the young man. He was taken aback, to say the least, but then again, he expected your response. In fact, he hoped for it.

Through the following days, you found yourself staring at the clock, waiting, begging for the day to end. You wished desperately for it to be Friday every time you woke up. It was finally Thursday when your craving died a little. An old lady had come in to return a few books, and she had said a fine looking man had asked her to give you a piece of paper. A letter. To say your heart nearly jumped through your throat would have been an understatement. "Hey, George. I need to do some paperwork, watch the store."

"You've never let me work the regis—." You didn't even let the poor boy finish his statement as you sped off towards the back room. Your shaky fingers locked the door as quickly as possible before you practically jumped into the swivel chair. ‘Open it’ you told yourself ‘it has to be from Yunho’. Your smile only grew bigger at the voice singing in your head. You open the paper and see it's written in the most beautiful hand writing you've ever seen. It read;

To my sunshine,

Even though our interactions have been brief, I have to confess that crossing paths in your bookshop was not the first time I've noticed your beautiful presence. I first saw you in the cafe, three shops down. The way you were lost in your book while sipping on your hot chocolate made me want to dive into your mind and see its wonders. Curious what could be lying within… You’ve been on my mind ever since. I have found I am unable to sleep at night without the thought of you. Call me old-fashioned with this letter, but I needed to get this off my chest without blabbering like a fool in front of you. I can't wait for our date tomorrow that I know you’ll say yes to. But until then. A gift…

You look at the bottom of the page and note there is a phone number. If the confession of love wasn't enough, him giving you his number was certainly going to kill you. You had already planned to say yes to his date but now an idea sparked in your mind. In truth, you have found feelings towards Yunho, like you had been made for one another. No amount of time, whether little or long it was, you know your feeling would stay the same. So you wanted to take the reins for once, even if deep down you knew you wouldn't be able to hold them for long.

Sunshine// I got your letter. I want you here out the front by 6 pm, wear something casual.

You left no room for argument as you shut your phone off and held your head high. George’s expression of unpleasantness couldnt… wouldnt, stop you from the growing butterflies in your gut. You were finally going to be happy, and Yunho was the one going to give it to you.

You swore it wasn’t this cold yesterday afternoon, the keys almost sticking to your ice cold fingers. You checked the locks to the doors one final time before letting out a sigh of relief and nerves, ready to call it a night. “Well hello, Sunshine.”

You turned with a smile, seeing the man of the hour. He was wearing a less-fancy dress suit. No tie, or cuff links. You couldn't help but giggle. “I said casual wear Yun…”

“What do you mean love? This is casual.” He chuckled, taking two large steps to you, closing the gap. His hand snuck around your waist, squeezing the flesh on your hips. “Where are we off to tonight?”

“A surprise. So you’ll just have to trust me.” You giggle, your palm resting on his chest. You could feel his heart racing a million miles, yet he looked so composed. But then again in his field of ‘work’ he needed to show almost no signs of emotion.

“I’d trust you with my life.” Yunho had never used those words so lightly, but it was the truth. He couldn't explain it but he could easily lay his life down for you. You could crush it if you wished and he wouldn't say a thing. You blushed at his confession, reaching on your tiptoes you kiss the rugged man's cheek, before pulling away towards the street.

“I loved your letter by the way.” And with that you turned to start walking, letting Yunho trail after you like a love sick puppy.

“Just this way…” Yunho followed you curiously as you weaved through the streets. There were no restaurants or diners around in this area he knew of and given he owned half the city he should be aware of almost everything. So where on earth were you taking him? You turned your head over your shoulders spotting the confusion on his face, you couldn't help but giggle at his wide boba-like eyes. You outstretched your hand, waiting for him to take it. Yunho swore he felt his heart stop when he locked his fingers with yours. Yunho has never put this much trust in a person before and yet he has found himself being led by you through the front door of an apartment complex and up three flights of stairs before coming to a stop at a door that read 117. “I..”

All the words you had prepared to say had suddenly flown out the window as you slotted the key into the lock. Yunho’s smirk grew as he watched your brain scramble, finding enjoyment in watching you squirm. “And here I thought you had an innocent date planned. But my cheeky little sunshine just wanted me all to herself, hmm?”

“N-no!!” you whipped your head to his direction, leaning against the door with blush riddled on your cheeks. “I-i just wanted to make you a home cooked meal. I-i prefer cooking over going out.” You dipped your head to the ground feeling a little ashamed of your introvertedness. Bringing such a dangerous man home wasn't exactly the thought that crossed your brain when you thought of this evening. In truth you were only thinking about treating him to your cooking, something you took pride in. “I’m not very good with other people.”

He brought his hand to your chin, lifting your face up so he could look at you in the eyes. There was no judgement in his soft gaze, heck even his killer smirk was now only a small simple smile. “As long as I'm with you, we could be doing anything, besides…” He leaned down to give the side of your face a kiss before whispering, “I’m not one for crowds either.”

You gulped, nodding slightly as you turned back to open the door. Yunho’s gaze shifted from yours as soon as he heard the creek of the wood, finally getting a peek inside your little place you call home. Your place was riddled with a vintage, cottagey-like aesthetic. It was like Yunho had stumbled into a fairies hut that was hidden away in the woods.the smell of your salt lamp was strong but not as strong as the calming lavender. He felt like the air around him was giving him the warmest hug. Everything was soft, cute, and dainty… just like you. You lead him deeper into the apartment, letting him take the lead once you get to an archway. It led into the lounge room he found, spotting the emerald couch and various bookshelves encasing a tv cabinet. “Uh..I… make yourself at home, i just got to put away some things and i’ll start to prepare dinner.”

You scurried off before he had the chance to protest, not that he would have that is. He was almost scared to take a seat, his black on black attire completely stuck out to the surroundings. Slicked back hair, expensive accessories, shoes worth more than most of your furniture… He was so out of place. Taking a seat he felt himself sink into the cushions. He was being bombarded by plushies falling onto him as he shifted to get comfortable. Everything smelled like you, sweet, sugary, a hint of freshly baked goods and old books. He couldn’t help him, leaning down he brought his face to a blanket you use regularly when lounging on the couch. He took a deep inhale. ‘God help me’ he'd think to himself as his fingers tangled in the soft fabric, feeling his hips twitch at the thought of your scent round him. Paint him as a pervert, he didn't care, all he cared about in this moment was the feeling of you. Craving, begging to see if he could have you as more.

A loud clunk caught his attention, making him snap out of the haze clogging his mind. He’s never sat up quicker, swiftly moving towards the kitchen to only find you with a pot on the ground and the lid firmly in your hand as if you were using it as a shield. “Whoops…” was all you could mutter, feeling like your nerves had been shot from the loud noise. Yunho scooped up the pot, trying to see if you were okay only to see your face completely red. The same red as the tomatoes on the counter. “I can't stop my hands shaking,”

You tried to laugh it off lightly at how nervous you were with such a man like Yunho being in your house. You were starting to regret bringing him here and wishing you just sucked it up and took him to a restaurant instead. Yunho's free hand placed itself on your upper arm, gently rubbing up and down on your soft skin before giving the flesh a squeeze. He hadn't even realised you were dressed in something different, another sundress, but this one was black with lace accents on the hems. the ribbon holding up your hair matched it accordingly. “Hey It's okay. Just take a deep breath, baby.”

Him calling you all these pet names weren't helping but you obeyed him as best as you could nonetheless. “I just feel a little silly bringing you here. You know since we barely know one another and I don't want you to get the wrong impression…”

“And what kind of impression would you be giving me, hmm?” He didn't mean to come off as teasing but his deep tone caused him to always sound alluring.

“I..uh. That I wanted to just get you to my place to sleep with you. Cause that's not the reason i just really dont l-like—” you stopped rambling as soon as your eyes met Yunho’s. His dark blown out gaze causes your words to get caught in your throat.Yunho had put the pot down a while ago, his spine straight as he stepped closer. You instinctively took a step back and then another before your hips made contact with the counter. Yunho placed a foot on either side of yours and his hands on the marble behind you. You were caged.

"And what if that was the reason? Would it be so bad?" It was like his voice got deeper, more sultry as he took a deep grumbling breath, taking in the scent of your perfume and shampoo.

"I j-just don't want to ruin anything we could have." You whispered, your eyes fluttering close. But Yunho simply stared holes into your flesh, like he could see straight to your soul. This cute little thing in front of him wants more than a hookup? Wants to actually get to know him? He doesn't know if he had just won the jackpot, or this was, in fact, a cruel dream he hadn't woken up to yet.

"Trust me, darling. Nothing you can do will ruin anything between us..." he leaned down to your ear, "Even if it's sex."

You choked when you heard him groan that unruly word. Your hand clapping over your mouth to hide your gasp. Never in your life have you been put into a situation quite sultry as this one. The men you’ve dated were only stereotypical, self-centered or mama’s boys. Worse if they were all three. But Yunho was different. He is no gentleman but yet, if you asked for the moon he would do anything to give it to you. He is not a nice man but if someone were to hurt the old lady that runs the little shoe shop down the street he would not be afraid to kill the fucker who did her wrong. He is not a lover but he’d be damned if he didnt wife you up the moment he could. Yunho was different and that's why you had quickly fallen for the man even if those around you did not approve. “W-what if I were to ask for more tonight. Not just dinner…”

Yunho’s heart stopped, he was sure of it. His body moving closer his lips inches from your own, “I would give anything your pretty little heart desires… all you gotta say is, please.”

You opened your eyes to see his dark ones locked on you. Moving your hand slowly, you snaked them gently around his neck, feeling his soft locks tangle between your fingers. “Please…” His lips locked onto yours, stealing the yelp from your throat. His hands that were gripping firmly on the counter now tugged at your hips, bringing you flushed against him. You could feel his body heat pool where you needed him most. You’ve never been kissed like this before. The softness with pure desperation lingering. It was as if your nerves exploded with little fireworks across your spine as you shiver under him. “Y-yu..y..” He was quick to swallow your cries, using his leg to spread your thighs more so he could easily slip between them.

“If we keep going, We aren't having dinner.” Yunho groaned against your tongue, pulling away with a tug on your bottom lip. He could hear a slight ring in his blushed ears, feeling his whole body shaking, craving to keep going. But he needed you to take the lead. Tell him what you wanted… for now.

“My bedroom is the first door on the left.” Your smile seemed to be contagious as Yunho couldn't help but give you a cheeky little smirk in return. He wasted no time in taking a hold of your lips again, but this time he took a step back, letting you both shuffle ungracefully towards the hallway. You huffed as you almost tripped, giving up with the kiss. You grabbed a hold of his hand that was still tightly against your hip, intertwining your fingers withs his. You both stood there for a moment. Nothing but battered breath and racing heart beats could be heard. It was like the world had ceased to exist around this very moment. His hazy gaze travelled from where you were both connected, up your soft arms, until he reached your lips. They were swollen, puffy and pink. Beautiful… Yunho thought. Everything about you was simply beautiful.

You gave him a soft smile, one he has never seen ever pointed in his direction, and with your hands tightly interlocked, you lead him slowly into your bedroom. A shy grin decorated your features. Something that Yunho's dark stare didn't linger from, as if he needed to map out every curve and twist to keep it perfectly accurate in his mind for years to come. From the intense gaze, you look away and towards your bed.

As soon as you opened the door, Yunho was met with the sweetest scent. It was so much stronger than the one that painted your apartment. Strawberries, vanilla, and brown sugar. The room wasn't much different from the rest of your place. It was neat, tidy. But there were blankets and plushies galore on your bed. Like a little nest to keep you safe from the outside world. The bedding was a forest green that matched the similar greens on your desk that sat in the corner. You, of course, had a bookshelf in here, too, filled with a number of different kinds of novels. Yunho reminded himself to bring up the one you recommended to him when you first met.

"Cute..." Was all he spoke, making your red face become even more hotter. You turned back to him, seeing his gaze glued to you, eyeing you with a devilish smirk. "...Just like you.”

Yunho lowered himself to place his lips on yours in another heated kiss. His hands wandered lower and lower, making your own fly to grab his shoulders. He backs you up slowly, step by step. Your hazy mind was too focused on the deepening kiss to notice any movement. It wasn't until you were suddenly startled by the edge of the bed hitting your thighs that you pulled away from the man in front of you. Yunho didn't hesitate to push you back gently. The little yelp that escaped your throat would have sounded pathetic if in a different scenario, but Yunho couldn't help but groan in response to the sound. Before you could protest anything, Yunho quickly stifled any noise as he followed you to capture your lips once more in a fierce kiss.

Teeth clashed against each other, and tongues danced like there was no tomorrow. It was like Yunho couldn't get enough of you. He needed to taste you in every way possible. The whimper that slipped from him as his mouth ventures lower to your jaw, biting and lapping at your skin. Then the same is done to your neck, your collarbone, all the way to the part of your breasts that was exposed by your sundress. You gasp, tipping your head back onto the plushies behind you while your hands loosen from the fabric on his shoulders.

Yunho suddenly stopped, his dark gaze looking up at your flushed expression. You're as red as a tomato with glossed over eyes, and God is it a delicious look on you.

"Such a pretty little thing." He groans, his voice all but a hushed whisper, slowly snaking his hands to your knees, playing with the lacy hem of your dress. "May I, Sunshine?" You nodded while biting your lip, a little too enthusiastically, shifting a little side to side. You tried to ease some of the ache between your legs.

“Use your words, Darling,” He grins, his touch unmoving.

“Please Yunho,” you finally squeak out. He shifts his body lower until he is snuggly between your legs. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes while his tongue coaks a thin layer of spit on his lips was enough to make you wet. You shiver as his large hands run from your knee, up your thigh, under your dress before returning back to your knee, tantalisingly. As if marvelling at what was before him. What you were gifting him. He does it again, this time letting his finger tips linger a little bit longer on your inner thigh before pulling away completely, leaving a thrilling chill to run down your spin. “I need you…”

His ghosting hand places itself back on the soft parts of your thighs, squeezing as he heard those three words slip from your pretty mouth. “You need me, sunshine? Need me to take the ache away? Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I want you to taste me…” You felt shy whispering such filth but Yunho on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow at your daring comment. It was something so daring it brought a smile to his older features. His little sunshine wasn’t innocent and he was slowly drawing the darkness out. His thumbs hooked on the edge of the dress hesitating before pulling the fabric up, agonisingly slow.

“Hmm, I knew my girl had a dark side.” He spoke with a lightly chuckle escaping his reddened lips from him biting them in anticipation. My girl…those words played in your head on loop, like your new favourite song. My girl. Argh you would never get over him saying that. He hikes your dress up higher to reveal your cute purple panties with a deep wet patch on them. You’re soaked right through. It was like he couldn't help himself, taking his pointer finger he pressed firmly on the patch watching the fabric stick to your core. He couldn't help but groan, “All this talk and here you are…dripping.”

Yunho dragged you underwear down your thighs. The cool air that crept from your bedroom window immediately hits the warmth of your core below. His fingers snatch the fabric clean off your legs, flicking them off to the side somewhere before his lustful gaze finally sets on the prize he had been yearning for ever since he first met you.

He swipes his thumb over your aching cunt, collecting some slick with his finger. It sent a jolt through you, your thighs twitching without your control. He coated his fingers more, watching your juices spill down his digit onto his knuckles. He does it once more for good measure, this time rubbing over your clit to earn himself a delicious whine from you. You grip at the bedsheets, widening your legs further for him unconsciously as he continues to play and rub at your clit just right. "Fuck...Yun."

"That's it sunshine, feeling good?" He chuckled watching you flinch as he pressed harshly on your clit. He snaked closer before his face was inches from you. He blew onto your wet lips, causing a gasp to leave you, but the gasp quickly turned into a high-pitched whine as you suddenly felt the warmth of his mouth upon you. He begins to lap up your pussy all the while still harshly circling your clit, moans escaping your parted lips. The noises turned into something desperate when the thumb was replaced by his firm tongue, pressing down and licking at your swollen bud, again and again. Yunho groaned against you, bucking his hips into the mattress at a stuttering pace. You took notice of his whine, feeling another one while he ground his hips just right against the sheets.

"Please, yuyu, t-that. I..ah."

You've never had any man pay this much attention to you before, let alone find enjoyment in eating you out. You can feel yourself becoming absolutely soaked just under the sensation of his mouth. Your legs quiver and shake, unable to control your movements as you feel yourself tip closer to the edge.

You try to take a deep breath. Feeling yourself already so close has made you feel slightly embarrassed. But as he sunk his long finger inside of your cunt, all the nerves seemingly washed away. Another one slid in easily and "Nh-ah YUNHO!" He curls them upwards, right to the spot that sends a spark of electricity crackling through your core.

He begins a steady rhythm along with his tongue continuously lapping your clit like he was a starved man taking his fill of a goddesses nectar and you're unable to control the noises and pants that fall from your throat. You grip one hand into the sheets as flies to grab the back of your thigh. lifting your leg up further to give him more access. You need more. You craved more. You've never felt this good before, and your being was demanding to be selfish for once.

He added a third finger as if he knew you needed something more. It made your head slam into the pillow behind you, turning to almost shout into the soft cushioning, muffling yourself for your poor neighbours. He works up a good rhythm, finding what buttons to push, succeeding in getting to know what your body wants. Groans from him and other lustfulled sniffles fill the room, as your thighs clamp down around the mob boss's head, keeping him where he is.

He could barely breath as your hips buck against his soaked face. But he couldn't care less. In fact, he would be happy if he died like this. In between the legs of his best girl, his pretty little sunshine. You felt like you were about to explode but the euphoria didn't last long as Yunho used his free hand that had been holding onto your outer thigh to pull your legs apart, holding them in place so he could sit up slightly. "You close, baby? Do you need to cum?"

"Yes!" You answered in a choked whine needing to feel his mouth on you once again.

"Yes, what sunshine?" Normally, he would be one for punishment, and given you kept breaking rules, he was most certainly craving to punish you. But it decided to let it slide this one. He has more than enough time to mould you and shape you into his perfect angel later. But for now, he'll see what type of filth he can draw from you.

"Yes, please, Yunho." Your glossed eyes finally opened for the first time in what felt like years, your tears clouding most of your vision but you could still see the darkness in Yunho's gaze and how his chin was dripping with slick. Your slick.

He drove his fingers deeper, his knuckles brushing your walls as he slammed his digits in a calculated thrusts. Harsh, slow, and powerful. You become louder, needier, and you can’t get your breathing under control. You’re teetering right on the edge. Ready. Right there and then...

He stops.

His glistening face had the cheekiest, wet grin across it like he felt proud of edging you. You on the other hand looked almost shocked panting louding, heart beating in your ears with flush brilliant red cheeks. You lick your lips as you run your hand over your mouth before raking it through your slightly dishevelled hair. Your eyes grew narrow as you stared at the man between your shaking legs. He holds your thighs apart so you can’t clamp them shut to try and stop the intense tingling between, causing you to huff in frustration.

“Don’t need to ruin the fun now, princess,” he inquired as he stood up off the bed, towering over your weak looking frame. The moon light that was pooling in the room caused his shadow to engulf you, covering your body in his darkness. He looked powerful. He looked dangerous. Like the man everyone warned you about. The feared mafia leader of the Destiny clan. He pulls you by your ankles, yanking you until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand gripped the back of your neck gently bringing your face to his so he could kiss you. But you kept your hand over your mouth, your other hand coming to place on his chest, holding him firmly in face with a hidden smirk.

“You are a cruel man.” You gestured to him not letting you finish, but in truth, the word cruel hung in the air like thick tension. Cruel. A word he was sadly used to. But not in this kind of way. It almost delighted him. You felt your heart jump as he raised his brow, coming closer so that he’s only a hair’s breadth away from the back of your hand. His dark eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail.

“Hmm why? You taste so sweet,” He bit his lip, “I want you to have a taste?” He mimics what you asked prior. You swallowed thickly with wide eyes nodding shyly. Slowly, you moved your hand away as he paused for a moment, just to see your flustered face once more. “Cute…”

He dives in, kissing you, lapping at your lips. His teeth nibbling, and his teeth clashing against yours. You could taste the muskiness of yourself on his tongue, the sweetness that lingered. You deepen the kiss, allowing his hand on the back of your neck to hold it still in place, giving up any power to give him everything of your being. Your hands shift to his shirt, catching the hem between your finger tips before tugging at the fabric. He seemed to get the gist as he pulled away for only a mere couple of seconds to pull his shirt off, snatching your lips against his once more.

Your fingers trace his body with your sight, feeling all the bumps of scar tissue and muscle. More proof of his status, of who he really was. But yet you still couldn’t pull yourself away. You’re not sure if you ever will. “Yu..” You huffed against his lips, “Yun I..”

He pulls away, letting his nose rub against yours while his eyes stay tightly sealed, taking in the moment like he was never going to be able to get it again. “What is it, my sunshine.”

“I need you… please.” You voice was barely above a whisper, only you and him being able to ever hear your little plea. His smile. His addicting smile made the butterflies in your tummy swoon. His hand that was firmly on your neck slid down until it found the zipper to your dress, playing with the metal between his digits.

“Can you stand?” He gently asked, waiting for you to nod a small ‘yes’. He helped you stand, the backs of your thighs still tightly against the edge of the bed, as if they were helping you stand. He finally pulled away, letting your eyes wander down his toned, damaged chest. He had tattoos up both arms, one of his right peck and one faintly sticking out on the top of his low slacks. You licked your swollen lips unconsciously as you gawked at him. Yunho on the other hand couldn't help but grin sinisterly at your reaction, delicately grabbing the zipper on your dress, he unzipped it until the straps of your dress loosened and fell from your shoulders.

The fabric pooled at your chest, your arms tightly holding it in place. “I…”

“Are you okay, love?” Your eyes snapped to his deep chocolate ones when he called you ‘love’, feeling your nerves crackling like fireworks. He tilted his head to the slide marginally, his smirk fading to a simple smile but his eyes never dimming their darkness. His hands gripped tightly onto his belt, unlooping it before throwing it somewhere in the room. He had made you watch his every move as he unzipped his slack unhurriedly. He could see the darkness begin to cloud your colourful eyes, your pupils growing large as the fabric fell to the floor, leaving him in his boxers. “Your turn.”

His voice somehow got deeper. His fingers gliding along your goosebumped skin. You took a deep inhale through your nose before letting your dress drop, pooling at your ankles. "Fuck..."

"Yun..." You dont even know why you called his name, but he was immediately on you, his one hand resting on your bare hip while the other effortlessly unhooked your bra in one quick snap, watching your plump breast spring free. He almost bent you in half when he brought his face to your tits, taking a deep breath, smelling your perfume on your sweaty skin. His tongue licked along the valley, groaning as he latched his mouth to your left nipple. "Fuck yuyu, nargh."

Your hands tangled in his hair as you feel back, dragging him with you as you fell on the bed with an 'oof'. He used his strong arms to throw your body upwards until your head hit the pillows, not leaving your breasts alone. He painted every part of skin he could with beautiful purple marks. Neading your chest, tugging on your nipples and wetting every surface. You could lay here and suck your tits for hours if you let him. But he knew you needed more. He needed more. Feel what it's like to be inside you.

"Such perfect tits. A pretty body. Everything about you is perfect sunshine. Hmm. My perfect girl." His praise made you whimper, a tear creeping out the corner of your eyes. You've never had someone say such kind things to you, praised you the way Yunho has been. For a cruel man, he was the kindest person you've ever met.

"Yu..yunho, please. I need you inside me." You whispered, tugging his head up by his hair so his lips were inches from your own. He gave you a small peck before sitting up slightly so he could wrap his legs around his waist, sliding the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Whatever my girl wants, she’ll get.” He sunk inside your soaked cunt inch by inch, bit by bit, until he bottomed you out. He shivered at the feling of your warm walls clenching tightly around him. His eyes squeezing shut and face burring in your neck. He could feel the coil in his gut already tug. he was going to cum any second and he felt embarrassed how quick you’ve made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven. “Fuck sunshine, you feel so nice. You’re pussy is sucking me in ngah.”

“Yunho please move.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, grinding upwards onto his public bone, feeling the friction ease the ache only just. It was like a switch went off when Yunho heard your little plea, snapping his hips into yours are such a pace it caused the air to be snatched out of your lungs. If you werent being fucked by the inch of your life you would of felt sorry towards your neightbours as a string of cries, swears and pet names bounced off the thin walls of your bedroom. Yunho drug his nails in the soft flesh of your waist, surely creating deep indents that you’d been flaunting for days to come.

You’ve never felt such a connection to another person before let alone a man. You were brought up with the idea that love didn’t exsit. That it was only a dream that settled in the books you’ve read. But the way Yunho made you feel, the way he made you want to feel. It was like you were in those books you’ve read.. “Yu..Yu I—”

“It okay baby. Let go. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” He sat up just slightly grabbing both of your wrists he held your hands above your head, lacing his fingers harshly around your appendage. Bending one of your legs over his shoulder, he jackhammered into you at a sped that was just what you needed, feeling his waist grind on your clit, giving you the right amount of simulation to let go. “That’s it, darling.”

Your foggy eyes, riddled with tears, stared up at Yunho’s never leaving his gaze. He watch every detail your face made as you came crashing down from your high. The way you brows cross, you mouth hung only ajar and savlia dripping down your chin. You were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes on, he was certain. “Fuck, sunshine, can I come inside you. Can I feel this pretty pussy up?”

His eyes begun to flutter closed as he felt a rush of need spill down his spine. You whimpered out a daring ‘yes please’ making him bust his load deep inside you, coaking your walls before some of his cum leaked out around his cock that stilled in you. Clouds daced around you, the softness of air tickling your sweaty flesh. Every nerve in your body was on an all time high and it was all thanks to the dangerous man above you. Yunho had let go of your wrist, kissing each one tendly. You simply lazily watched him, basking in the moment, never wanting it to end.

-♡

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maxtermind · 5 months

Text

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart.

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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greaseonmymouth · 3 months

Text

I saw this shared around on Threads (why do I go there, I hate it) and commented on as 'this article is so good' and 'must read' including by a few people whose opinion I normally respect, and seeing as monsterfucking and monster everything is like a special little interest for me, I of course instantly clicked through to read it

and I have to say

what the everloving heterosexual fuck is this

two fat paragraphs about omegaverse that don't even mention its origins - I mean - I just - gaze upon this phrase, and despair:

During estrous, Omegas’ vaginas ooze with “slick,” responding to the Alpha’s intoxicating pheromonal perfume.

IT'S CALLED "SLICK" BECAUSE IT'S FROM SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES. THE REASON THE OMEGAS NEED SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES TO BEGIN WITH IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE VAGINAS.

I. have been rendered figuratively speechless. the straights don't know what slick is. the. i. how. how did we end up like this

their dicks swell at the base, creating a “knot,” which lodges them inextricably in the Omega’s slick-soaked (I am so sorry) vagina.

"(I am so sorry)" girl you're writing an article about monster smut and then you have the gall to be embarrassed by the this tame ass (or should i say vagina?) heterosexual omegaverse?

okay, okay. deep breaths. we've only just got started. we started by covering Morning Glory Milking Farm, a minotaur/human erotic romance novel, which well - I've read it, and it's not a bad book by any means, it was actually very very good, a solid story with a great cast and perfectly paced and satisfying romance and loads of sex - is very straight. it's just a minotaur. it's a big guy with a big dick. it's your standard gentle giant/normal sized girl romance. it's not very freaky, but you know, I don't blame the average reader for coming into this thinking this is some out there stuff. gotta start somewhere, right? we didn't all come up through draco/the giant squid crackfic in 2005, you know? and now we've covered Sarah J Maas and we're entering omegaverse territory, this is getting knottier now, right, freakier? this article is going somewhere, right?

you can imagine the intrigue, enemies-to-lovers, and other story lines involved as each captured female eventually finds the member of the barbarian tribe who is destined to worship and fuck the living daylights out of her for the rest of their lives. Oh, and their dicks have a sensitive spur on top designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s just as blue and velvety as the rest of their big alien bodies.

okay so the minotaurs aliens are blue now, i guess.

It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.

ohh?? are we finally getting a proper freak on now??

This genre, “why choose?” or “MMF” (or sometimes even MMMF or MMFM), and also known as “reverse harem,” always features a heroine who is showered with sexual attention by men who are also sexually involved with each other.

having a thousand yard stare moment over here

this author seriously thinks that all these heterofied monster romance tropes are paving the way for the real freaky stuff that is, checks notes, "two hockey players fucking each other while the heroine calls the shots"

this author is positing that human queer erotica/romance are freakier than monster erotica/romance. like. she said that. with her whole chest. black on white.

on one hand a monster, an inhuman being, and on the other, a queer person, a human being. and apparently the real freak is not the minotaur or the blue alien. it is the queer human.

is this satire? it has to be, right?

because if it's not satire, this article is an entire case study in itself on the monstering* of queer people. stunning.

*academic term

#monsterfucking #monster romance #monster smut #monster studies #monster theory #omegaverse #where's my phd in monsterfucking I fucking deserve one

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yuvany · 7 days

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ENHYPEN BEING JEALOUS

Jealous bf!𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍

OT7 ENHYPEN x female reader . GENRE / WARNING(S) :: est relationship + possessiveness + fluff + not proofread && WORD COUNT ;; 680 ;; CHECK BOX !!

yu-note : started writing this during BTHB release, finally decided to publish it widbcib

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You guys were our with with your friends and a couple of other people invited at the arcade. Heeseung sees a boy eyeing you from afar and he glares at him while he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Why so sudden?" You ask, the action piqued you interest. "I just don't want anyone to steal you sway from me." He grumbles, and you raise an eyebrow cluelessly. "What do you mean?" You see his pretty eyes shift towards a guy by the polo table who immedietly looks away after seeing you both turn to him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Bluntly says, "I don't like him," after you return to him from chatting with someone else at the function. "Who?" you ask, trying to hear what he says over all the surrounding conversations. "That guy you just spoke to. He's too friendly." Jay points out and you can't contain your giggles at how he's acting right now. "Sweetie, don't be ridiculous, he has a girlfriend." Jay is still cautious and says, "So? You're too perfect not to like." while sliding his finger in between yours as his eyes trail your hands, his fingers curcling your knuckles. "Sometimes, jealous Jay is entertaining," you joke.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

During picnic in the park, you two come across a guy from your chem class, and he approached you two first during the lovely date, ruining it all for Jake.. You try to usher him away, and when he finally does, Jake asks. "Are you sure he's just a friend?" You sigh and nod your head, tired by the fact that he even asked. "Of course he is, sweetie." "Well, that's what they all say." he shrugs carelessly and you shake your head. "If it really bothers you, I might consider stop speaking to him." Jake almost instantly gave you the puppy eyes, and you gave in.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It wasn't evident that he's jealous until you pay extra close attention to his behaviour. Not only was he less touchy, but he refrained from speaking with you at all costs. You saw him make eye contact with you, and usually he'd light up, but not this time. "Hoon? Why are you so cold? Have I done something?" You ask, not liking the tense atmosphere. "I don't know. You tell me." You feel offended by his question. "Is it about () ?" You see him nod, and you rest your hands on your hips. "I'll stop being close with him then." You sigh and Sunghoon gives you a kiss..

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo hugs you from behind, his arms engulfing you around the waist. "Am I not pretty enough for you?" He asks with an underlying tone in his voice that's sharp like fangs. "Of course you are. What makes you say otherwise, baby?" You ask, letting yours hands find and rest on his. "I just don't like seeing you with that guy, he gives me the creeps." Sunoo mocks shivers running down his spine and you chuckle. "Alright, if you say so, but we're just friends, you know?" Sunoo rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

"You know I love you, angel, and I hate to say this, but Who was he?" You hear Jungwon question scincerily after you returned home. "He's a guy from my class. He just accompanied me home, babe." You answer, knowing that he is jealous. "You could've called me, you know?" He leans his head on your shoulder and you chuckle. "I just didn't wanna disturb you." You say and Jungwon clicks his tounge, "you're never a disturbance to me."

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

"Should I be scared that I've competition?" He jokes, crossing his arms as he nudges your shoulder. "Competition?" You echo, not sure by what he means. "That guy is testing me, babe." He explains and you look over at the said 'guy'. "Don't look at him." Riki hisses while gently turning you to face him again by the chin. "Ok ok, I won't speak to him anymore ." You sigh at last, and he smiles at you widely.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

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junkissed · 26 days

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goodnight n go

member — fwb!vernon x reader genre — smut, angst, non-idol au word count — 1.7k synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different. warnings — mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, car sex, guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, no physical descriptions of reader, vernon is afraid of commitment, sad ending for this part but there will be a part 2 with a happy ending !! notes — before you ask, yes this is based on the ariana song lol but also inspired by black eye because it's been stuck in my head the past few days. as always, thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i'm still on hiatus and requests are closed but i randomly had inspiration to write something for vernon so i hope you enjoy! i am planning on writing more for this story, but i'm back at uni and my time is already quite limited, so i'll try to write more when i can! reblogs, comments, and asks are super appreciated, it means a lot and helps me keep writing so please lmk if you liked it :)

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice, and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the rest of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same.

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week.

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in the replies

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thefudge · 7 months

Note

Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

#writing #smut tips #writing advice #smut #my thoughts #replies

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Text

✍️Introduction and Masterlist✍️

About me: Hi! I'm Kacie, I'm 21, and I use she/her/any pronouns. I'm from the UK but I'm currently an English Teacher in South Korea (if you want to know more I'm totally open to conversations about it!) and this is my side blog, so I follow and respond to comments from @studykac

Writing: At this point in time. I only write for Spencer Reid. I will pass on any requests that focus on other characters because I don't currently write for them. A lot of my work is also NSFW. If you are under the age of 18, do NOT interact with any of my posts that are tagged #maturereiding - please block this tag!! When my requests are open you can request through the Ask box, or through DMs, but please keep in mind I do have a full time job, so I will do my best to get things out quickly. You can find my recommendations in the tag #reiderrecommends!

Other interests: kpop, especially Seventeen, SHINee, NCT and BTS, Criminal Minds (obv), NCIS, reading any genre of books (here's a link for my GoodReads page), Percy Jackson, languages (learning Korean currently!), English Literature, Jane Austen etc.

Requests are: CLOSED - find my request guidelines here!

Writing:

Spencer Reid x Reader NSFW

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress // 3.8k

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress pt. 2 // 2.4K

Summary: After a hot encounter in your car, Spencer pulls you inside your apartment hoping to give you some more relief from the heat.

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, soft Dom, oral (M receiving), pet names, degradation, face fucking, messy sex, creampie, breeding kink

Margaritas and Mistakes // Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, heavy petting, hickeys, making out, mentions of arousal etc. (part one)

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to overpower your ability to function properly.

Warnings: So many, check the post for details.

More Than Words 🫶 // 8k

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, you're forced to ask your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

The Us That Could've Been 💔 // 5.7k

Summary: They say to get over a man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't sure why the idea of you doing just that makes him feel so bad.

Warnings: angst, unprotected sex, creampie, spoilers for season 8, mentions of Maeve, Spencer is emotionally illiterate etc.

Unhappy Holidays 👻🦃🎄🎆// 5k

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Flirting with the FBI // 7.1k

Summary: To catch a killer, you have to first out him on the FBI's radar. By hacking their systems and flirting with Spencer Reid, of course.

Warnings: Rough sex, Dom Spencer, bimbofication, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, use of slut and good girl, more in the fic warnings.

Spencer Reid x Reader SFW

The Lightbulb Moment // 4.8k

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Just Hanging Out // 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

(Not smut but highly suggestive, read at your own discretion).

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy? // 2k

Summary: You're a teacher, and you have to call in one of your students' parents to talk about their recent troubling behaviour. It's more embarrassing than you thought when Spencer Reid shows up.

Series

That's What You Get // complete 💕

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise that one of the sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs Reid.

Genres: Fluff, smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters, happy ending.

Playlist: Me and You in 2024

Summary: One song fic a week throughout 2024!

Genres: Various, check individual chapters for specific warnings!♡

Answered Requests

(NSFW) Request inspired by Taylor Swift's False God 🙏// 2.2k

(NSFW) Request for a soft!Dom Spencer with cockwarming and breeding kink 💕 // 2k words

(NSFW) Request for Reader introducing vanilla!Spencer to a BDSM lifestyle ✨// 0.7k words

(SFW) Request for Reader kidnapped by unsub and saved by Spencer 💕 // 2.2k

(SFW) Request for pregnant Reader and Spencer who is an absolute fool for her 🌸 // 1.2k

(SFW) Request for shamelessly flirting with an oblivious Spencer 😊// 2k

(NSFW) Request for post-Maeve Spencer who uses sex as a coping mechanism 🫡//4.6k

(NSFW) Request for alt!sub!Reader meeting the team for the first time (and they totally think she's the Dom) 🤭// 1.5k

(NSFW) Request for CNC office sex with Spencer 🚫// 1k

(SFW) Request for Spencer finding out you knew Emily was alive 😿// 0.7k

(SFW) Request for training session with Spencer 🤼‍♀️// 1.8k

(SFW) Request for I Can See You inspired angst 🥺// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer making the reader beg for it ❤️‍🔥// 1.6k

(NSFW) Request for CNC with soft!Dom Spencer - shower sex 💦// 1.3k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Professor Reid doesn't know he's distracting the class 👓// 3k

(NSFW) Request for Sub!Spencer begging reader to dominate him 🫣// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for Genophobic virgin!Reader ❤️‍🩹// 5k

(NSFW) Request for Professor Spencer with a jealous gf 🐺//2k

(SFW) Request for reader helping Spencer through recovery 🤕// 1k

(NSFW) Request for possessive Spencer reacting to your little black dress 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - Undercover with an "excited" Spencer 🕵‍♂️// 3.6k

(SFW) Request for playing video games with Spencer 🎮// 1k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - munch! Spencer is obsessed with you 👅// 2k

(SFW) Request for Spencer babying an oblivious reader 👶// 2k

(NSFW) PROMPT REQUEST - sharing a cold bed with Frenemy Spencer 🛌// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for reader being distracted while Spencer is reading 📚// 1k

(NSFW) Request for Pillow fort sex with Spencer ⛺️// 2k

(NSFW) Request for car confession and oral with Spencer 🚗// 1.7k

(NSFW) Request for dancing the night away with Spencer 💃// 2.5k

(NSFW) Request for the morning after Spencer loses his V-Card 😶// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for reader confessing to Spencer when he's in his anthrax shower 🚿// 0.7k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer finding readers unusual sensitive area 🤝// 3.5k

(NSFW) Request for Spencer and Hotch!Reader secret relationship 🤐// 6k

(SFW) Request for reader being jealous of Spencer and Lila 🤽‍♀️// 2.1k

(NSFW) Request for gun kink 🔫//3k

(SFW) Request for Shy! Spencer and Flirty!Reader 🫣 // 2.3k

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #reiderrecommends #spencer reid fanfic #Masterlist #criminal minds fanfiction

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ihavethedreamies · 8 days

Text

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

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

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

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

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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wintaerbaer · 10 months

Text

seven storms (jjk) (m)

summary: As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: forbidden love, angst, a bit of fluff, also a bit of smut

word count: 9.0k

warnings: ambiguous time periods, oc’s mom passed away when she was a child, parental strain and turbulent relationships, it’s not explicitly stated but bang sihyuk is oc’s dad, find the ‘seven’ reference, BRIEF SMUT (in the form of missionary, cowgirl, and implied unprotected, which you should not do)

a/n: this one is for the obs discord server, who came up with this plot and then flattered me until i agreed to write it lol

MASTERLIST // Read on ao3

It begins with a clap of thunder.

The dark clouds had rolled in quickly during your morning ride, the rain holding off on its looming descent even as the wind picks up and throws strands of hair across your face. You try to cling to every minute you have left before the downpour, savoring your alone time and the peaceful quiet of the morning. It may even be worth getting a little wet, you think as you watch the new stable hand effortlessly sling a bay of hale over his shoulder, for the chance to savor every moment of your daily ritual before the weather inevitably forces you back inside.

You love the simple pleasures of fresh air and the soft rustle of the grass.

Jungkook glances at you from afar as he continues his work, and even at this range, you can see his muscles shifting under the fabric of his shirt. It’s been roughly a month since your father hired him to tend the stable on your family’s estate, and while he hasn’t been unpleasant, giving you a friendly but silent nod each day as you prepare for your ride, he’s mostly kept his distance.

Today, however, is a different story entirely as a boom sounds out above your head. Your horse, a young stallion named Bam who is still being broken, startles at the noise and begins to nervously pace, tamping down the dirt under his hooves. The reins wrap tighter around your fingers as you attempt to take firmer control, but when a second crack emanates through the sky, the horse begins to buck in an attempt to throw you off.

The laws of physics cease to exist, time simultaneously speeding up and slowing down as you work to maintain your balance, clenching your muscles around the horse's back. A particularly violent whip of his head rips the reins free, and all you can do is try to flatten yourself to his back and hold on for dear life.

A pair of unfamiliar hands shoots into your peripheral vision, stroking firmly at the stallion's head and neck until he's easing back down, his erratic motions steadying until you can safely sit back up and face your rescuer.

"Are you alright?" His eyes scan your body for injury, moving from your face all the way down to your toes and back up.

You use the time to perform your own appraisal. The first thing you notice is that while he had immediately struck you as handsome when you first saw him around the property, he’s even more attractive up close: all soft eyes, perfect lips, and a tiny scar on his cheek that only adds to his allure. Add to that strong arms, broad shoulders, and a section of clearly-chiseled chest peeking out of his shirt, and you have to admit to yourself that you’re already halfway gone.

“Y/N?” His eyebrows dip as he frowns, clearly suspecting some kind of head injury as a result of your silence.

“You know my name.”

His expression turns quizzical at your bizarre answer. “I work for you. Of course I know your name.”

“You work for my father.”

“And you by extension.”

Your spine stiffens with rebellion. “I have no interest in bossing men around.”

“Why not?” He taps his knuckles on the saddle. “I see you come out to ride every morning. I could certainly tack up a horse for you in advance.”

“Because I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

His perfect lips curl at the edges. “I don’t doubt that.”

Your heart stutters a rhythm behind your ribcage, voice muted by the appearance of a dimple that dips into his left cheek. It’s not often you find yourself speechless, and the sheer unfamiliarity of it has you on the brink of a flight response; you begin to gently guide your horse back towards the stable, Jungkook walking at your side. To your surprise, he doesn’t stay quiet.

“So how long have you been riding?”

You peek down at him, but he’s not looking at you as he scratches the stallion under his muzzle. “Since I was five,” you say. “My father arranged for private instruction after my mother died. Thought I could use the distraction.”

You figured he already knew about your mother’s passing due to her absence from the estate, and his unfazed expression seems to confirm as much. Still, in a gentle voice he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t make her sick.” Another low rumble echoes through the sky, but Jungkook is prepared, already smoothing his hand over the Bam’s neck again. “What about you? How long have you worked with horses?”

He chuckles, and your belly warms. “Since before I could walk. I grew up on a ranch. Have probably spent more time around horses than people—not that I’m complaining.” A shrug pulls his shirt tight across his bulging shoulders. “Animals are better company, in my opinion.”

“You say while striking up conversation with a stranger.”

Pink blooms on his cheeks, but, to his credit, he recovers quickly. “Beautiful women are the exception.”

Heat rises to your own face, and you choose to ignore his comment as much as it has butterflies taking off behind your bellybutton. “I understand what you mean though. That’s why I��m out here every day.”

“You like the outdoors?”

“Very much,” you say. “The smell of the wind, the feeling of the sunshine on my skin and the earth under my shoes. I like to ride down to the sunflower fields and watch how they turn themselves towards the light. There’s a strange sense of kinship there.” You’re not sure what drives you to share all this with a man you’ve just met, but the way he nods along as if he agrees sets your heart at ease. “And the horses are, in fact, good company.”

He laughs again, tipping his head back to look at you. His dark hair brushes his forehead, jaw cutting so sharp a line that the temptation immediately hits to trace it with either your fingers or lips—you’re not sure which. You don’t even care if you’ll bleed.

It strikes you at that moment that you’re in a world of trouble.

The skies open up, the rain instantly pouring down in fat drops as you briskly rush your horse the rest of the way into the stable, Jungkook hot on your heels. You dismount once you’re inside and begin to untack the stallion, moving the reins up and over so you can remove the bridle first. Jungkook quickly steps in to help unhitch the saddle, and while you’d normally be inclined to make a fuss about how you can handle your own gear, you find that you much enjoy his quiet companionship. You like watching the way his gentle hands artfully work to simultaneously manage the equipment and relax the horse, giving the sense that he’s offering assistance only because he loves his work and not to patronize you as a woman (you’ve seen one too many men try to step in because they believe you to be incompetent).

Once Bam has been settled into his stall, you turn back to your companion and are met with big brown eyes already gazing at you, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Thank you for your help today,” you say. “I may be an experienced rider, but that also means I know enough to understand that you likely saved me from an injury earlier. So thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He looks suddenly subdued, nervous now without the horse as a buffer. “And if I may be forward, I hope I made a good first impression. I wouldn’t want a beautiful woman like yourself to think I overstepped.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned beautiful women now. You speak with them a lot?”

“Not recently,” he says, dimple making another appearance. “Only one.” His voice drops a decibel, flirtation giving way to sincerity. “But truly, I do just like to help. I am sure you are perfectly capable, but just because we can do something doesn’t mean we always need to do it alone. If I can help ease a burden, then I would like to do so.”

Warmth floods through you like the rain currently running off the roof, and before you can even think about it any further, you find yourself nodding. “Very well.”

The smile he gives you brightens your day more than a hundred miles of sunflower fields ever could.

“I won’t keep you then.” He begins walking backwards towards the troughs where most of the horses have currently congregated. “But I do very much look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

You do, too. And when you show up to the stable the next morning (and the next, and the next), you already have a horse saddled up for you, a single sunflower resting on the seat.

Raindrops clatter in endless sheets off the metal roof of the stable, the ringing sound blending with the blasts of thunder and lightning overhead to mask your groans as Jungkook steadily thrusts into you.

It’s been three months since your flirtation culminated in you asking him to join you for a ride one morning.

Three months since he accompanied you down to the sunflower fields, pulled you into their depths, and kissed you like his life depended on it.

Three months since the rain became your closest friend, providing you the cover you need for your more intimate moments—such as this evening when you’d arrived at the stables to find him laying down a fresh layer of straw, the flex of his arm insisting that you needed him now.

The patter of the rain ensures his moans are for your ears and your ears alone.

“Do you think the horses mind?” he mumbles into the sensitive skin of your neck as he presses even deeper into you and steals your breath, his hands cupping your ass as he grinds his hips.

“I doubt it,” you gasp, digging your nails into his back. “They’ve kept secrets for me before.”

He laughs, and you relish in the feel of the vibration of his chest pressed to yours, as if the sound is being passed directly from his lungs to your heart. “Am I your secret then?”

“My favorite secret.”

He pulls back to look at you then with wide eyes. You don’t know when it happened, when he became the absolute center of your universe, but you also know that you’ve never been this happy in your life, never felt as whole as you do with him. So you stare at him right back, absorb every angle of his face as he brushes the hair away from your eyes and kisses you with an unusual delicacy in comparison to the rough pace of his hips.

“I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it, but your blood heats as if the words are brand new.

He rises up above you then, leans back so he can bend your knees to your chest and pound into you in earnest, and you’d swear the roof has disappeared and you can see every star in the sky. Galaxies swirl, planets align, and it’s not long before you’re falling over the edge and he’s following you with a deep groan—a harmony to the thunder that surrounds you.

The two of you collapse into a heap, and he pulls you into his side, your cheek pressed to his still-heaving chest. It’s serene, the consonance of his breathing alongside the tapping of the rain and the occasional snuffle from the horses.

“So, the horses are keeping secrets for you, huh?” It’s a quiet question, vulnerable as he gazes at you with tender devotion. The same stars you saw minutes ago twirl in his eyes. “Can I be told one?”

“Are you a horse?”

A breath of a laugh: “Well you’ve certainly ridden me before.”

He has a point there.

You hum to yourself as you think before asking, “What is your dream?”

“What does that have to do with—“

“Answer mine, and I’ll answer yours.”

Calloused fingers trace patterns on your hip, a faraway look taking over his expression as he envisions some distant future. “To own my own farm,” he says. “I want to be my own boss. No more having to serve others.” A smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “And I’d be able to provide for my family—have a few kids and teach them the ropes, just like my dad did with me.”

Your brow dips in confusion. “You won’t inherit your father’s farm?”

“No, it’ll go to my older brother.” He squeezes your hip on a sigh. “If I want my own farm, it’s up to me to earn it.”

“You’ll do it,” you say, and you believe it with every fiber of your heart. “I know you will. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met.”

It’s not a lie by any stretch. You’ve spent plenty an afternoon telling your father that you’re going to read out on the veranda as it gives you an inconspicuous way to watch Jungkook work. He’s diligent, tireless, and you’ve often used the need to bring him water as an excuse to go down and spend time with him, seeing the sweat drip off his forehead as he single-handedly trains and cares for the horses.

His eyes become glassy, a gruff clearing of his throat as he pushes the tears back and grazes his lips over yours in a gentle kiss instead. “Thank you.” But before you can deepen the kiss and distract him, he shifts ever so slightly away, a glint in his eye. “Now you.”

You puff a sigh into his chest—bold of you to think you’d be able to sneak one past such an observant stare. Still, your secrets don’t usually come forth easily, buried deep within the cavity of your ribcage so even you don’t have to dwell on them too long.

Something about those doe eyes, though, render you ever vulnerable.

“Mine is similar to yours. I want to be my own boss.”

His brows pull together. “No one would expect a lady like you to work.”

“Not for a job, for my life,” you say, irritation forcing the words from your lips now. “I don’t want my father to dictate the path my life takes. I want to choose it, whatever it is, for myself. To be in charge of my own fate.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, teeth dipping into his lower lip as he considers your words. It’s something else you’ve grown to love about him, the way he stops and thinks before he reacts. So unlike your father who has always been nothing but big emotions and snap judgments.

“What would you choose?” is the question he eventually comes out with, and the pads of his fingers trace the jut of your hipbone like he’s memorizing it.

Well that’s another matter entirely. “I don’t know. Just not what my father wants for me.”

“And what would that be?”

“To marry one of the rich dandies in town,” you blurt, and his hands still. “That’s always been the expectation that’s been set since I was a girl—that my family would arrange a suitable match for me.” You’re practically spitting now, anger simmering through you. “Suitable, of course, meaning wealthy.”

“Is that so bad?” He asks it quietly, insecurity poorly masked in the way his voice trembles ever so slightly. “Some people would do almost anything to be in your position.”

You scoff. “There’s more to life than money.”

“Like what?”

“Fresh air, sunshine, the smell of the morning dew.” You tap his chest with everything you list off, as if they’re all housed within the framework of his torso. “The sound of the rain bouncing off windows, the bright yellow of sunflowers after their first bloom, watching a foal get its legs under it for the first time. Love.” You press your hand to his heart with that one, feeling the strong beat of it under your palm. “That’s the greatest thing.”

He snags your fingers, bringing them to his lips and kissing each one in succession before his hand slips into your hair so he can join his mouth with yours. The kiss is slow, thorough, his tongue trailing along your lower lip with determination as he drags you across his body until you’re straddling him.

“You’re right about that,” he murmurs before gripping your waist tightly so he can push back into you, the rain pouring on and on.

“No!”

Your father stands up so suddenly that his chair topples over with a crash, Jungkook sitting across from him wearing a look of even-keeled surprise; his eyes widen a fraction, but his overall posture remains resolved and confident.

“You dare have the audacity to even ask—“ He chokes on his words, spit flying from the edges of his lips, before pointing a finger towards where you stand stunned in the corner. “And you! You’ve been fraternizing with this riffraff? After everything I’ve taught you? Everything I did to raise you? You go and choose to associate with this—this—“ You’re worried his eyes might fall out of his head with the way they bulge as he grasps for a word, vein in his neck visibly thumping as he finds it. “Lowlife!”

“You’re wrong!” you scream as Jungkook continues to sit quietly at the dinner table. You’ll be damned if you’d just stand by and allow him to be spoken about in that way. “He’s an incredible man. He works hard, he’s respectful, and he loves me, Father. Not because of my money, but because I’m me.” Your steps echo off of the tall, looming arches of the ceiling as you move closer to Jungkook. “And I love him.”

“No, no, absolutely not. You’re only twenty years old. You don’t even know what love is,” your father barks before turning his beady eyes on Jungkook again. “You’ll never marry my daughter. You do not have my permission nor my blessing. That’s final.”

“Father—“

“You’re also fired,” he spits. “You can say goodbye and that’s the end of it. I want you off my property.” Then he’s storming out of the dining room, leaving you and Jungkook in heavy silence.

It’s only a handful of seconds before Jungkook is rising to his feet and striding from the room and out the front door, you hot on his heels. The steady drizzle soaks your clothes in a matter of moments, but you don’t even feel the way they cling to your skin, focused solely on the man in front of you.

“Jungkook!” you call, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn to face you until you manage to grab ahold of his hand and tug.

You thought he’d be distressed, angry, perhaps even crying. Instead, you’re met with intensity, a fierce determination simmering under the warm brown of his irises as his gaze bores into yours and almost has you faltering.

“Jungkook, I…” You wring your hands in front of you, watch the rain run in rivulets off the ends of his hair. “We can make it through this. I can convince him—“

“You can’t.”

You huff in frustration. “Then we’ll run away together! I’ll come with you and we’ll—“

“No, Y/N.” He stills the frantic movements of your hands with his own, drawing you towards the warmth of his body until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. “I have no savings right now, no way to support the two of us. We’d be out on the street in a matter of days.” He shakes his head, brushes a kiss to your knuckles. “No. You need to stay here for now. But this isn’t the end of us, I swear to you. I am going to work myself to the bone—until I have nothing left to give. Until I can buy my own farm, my own house, and give you everything you need.” Your foreheads press together, drops of water clinging to his lips and drawing your eye as he speaks. “I will provide for you someday, love you to the best of my ability. Just give me time.”

The heavens open above you, the relentless downpour backed by the cacophony of the skies as you finally move to kiss him. He tastes of rainwater and sweat, the fragrant aroma of sunflowers and nights spent tangled together in the stables. You savor the feel of his lips against yours, commit to memory the way his tongue begs for entrance, the way you grant it with a groan that feels like both a prayer and a curse.

With a final, resounding crack, he’s pulling away as you cling to the rough skin of his fingertips until the very last fraction of a second, arms stretched to their absolute limit. And when he turns his back on you, shirt plastered to his skin, you’d swear you can hear the horses raging in the stable, the rumble of hooves and agitated whinnies ringing in your ears long after he’s disappeared from view.

The first letter comes on a Wednesday roughly six week later, written on carefully folded parchment paper in small, neat handwriting. It surprises you, coming from a man who spends all day tending horses and tossing around hay bales. You receive the letter from the carrier quietly, rushing it up to your room and waiting to read until the concealment of night has fallen and you’re confident your father has gone to bed.

My Love,

I must admit that I am not quite sure how long it has been since I last saw you. Perhaps only a handful of weeks, surely, but every hour, minute, and second has felt like an eternity. I miss you, sweetheart. I miss the sound of your laugh. I miss the way you’d look each morning, strolling down from the house with a bounce in your step and the early sunshine bouncing off of your hair. Or perhaps you are just that radiant. I would believe it, you know, that light emits from your very smile, and I know I feel warmer whenever I am around you.

Look at me; look at the man you've turned me into. I've always considered myself a simple being, glad to indulge in the dirt and physical labors of the outdoors, and yet you have me waxing poetic like one of the men in those romance novels you would always pretend to read on the veranda. (Yes, my dear, I noticed. Your stares are not so subtle.) I am lovesick, homesick, and it’s all because of you. Because my life truly began the day I looked up and saw Bam struggling with you on his back and just knew I had to help you (tell that dear beast that I miss him by the way).

Now, I must live my life forlorn, but not without purpose. Please know that I am doing everything in my power to get back to you, and I will not rest until I am holding you in my arms again. I have secured a job at a ranch several towns over; it’s good work with decent pay, and every cent that does not go towards the barest necessities is being saved for us. One day, my love. One day we will have a house and a farm, and I will be able to love you openly, with no need for secrets or the cover of rain.

In the meantime, just know how terribly I miss you, and though we are separated by distance, I hold you in my heart each day. On my way each morning from my lodgings to the ranch, I pass by a field of sunflowers. I know it cannot possibly be true, but it feels like every golden face turns towards me as I go, and darling, I’d swear I see you in every one.

One day, my love.

Until then, always yours,

J.K.

It becomes something of a ritual: while you used to spend your days out on the veranda pretending to read so that you could watch Jungkook from afar, you now settle on the front porch with a book each afternoon in the hopes of catching the local mail carrier. Jungkook’s letters come slowly but consistently every couple of weeks, and each time a letter does arrive, you spend the night drafting your own by candlelight to send back to him.

He tells you about his new job, how he’s working on a larger farm now with several other laborers. The veterans are kind to him and teaching him a lot, he says, and it eases the ache in your heart a fraction to know that he seems happy where he is and well taken care of. You write back about your favorite books that you’ve been reading and how the horses have been (you insist that you can tell Bam misses Jungkook too). But both of your letters are saturated with sentiments of love and how dearly you miss each other, reminding yourselves that every day that passes is one day closer to you two being reunited, whenever that may be.

Your father, meanwhile, proceeds as if Jungkook never existed, hiring a new stable hand who begins his work mere days after Jungkook has left. This man is middle aged, gray already streaking through his hair, and you can’t help but feel it’s a deliberate choice on your father’s part lest you fall for another lowly laborer. And though you know it is not his fault, you barely speak with the man outside of a few curt pleasantries when you go for your ride each morning.

You persist in your morning rides out of habit, but you find that they don’t bring you the same kind of joy that they used to. The grass isn’t quite as green, the air is often stifling, and the sunflowers droop where they used to stand tall against the blue skies. On one day, roughly six months after Jungkook’s firing, you’re once again forced back inside early due to rain, the storm dampening your already dreary mood. It takes a turn for the worst when you hear your father call your name the moment you step in the door and plummets entirely off a cliff when you trudge into the dining room to see a man sitting at the table.

Seokjin is not entirely unfamiliar to you—your families run in the same circles after all—but he is ultimately little more than a stranger, the two of you having only exchanged a handful of polite words at dinner parties and the like. All that you truly know of him is that he is the heir to the wealthiest trading company on this side of the country and that his father is expected to transition the entire operation to him over the next few years.

Even so, Seokjin greets you with a sense of intimate familiarity, standing at your approach and brushing his lips against the back of your hand before you can stop him.

“A pleasure to see you, Y/N, as always.”

You know that social etiquette requires you to return the sentiment, but instead, you find yourself looking between Seokjin and your father, trying to figure out his purpose here.

“What is going on?”

Your father grimaces at your rudeness but opts to ignore it. “Seokjin has come here with a rather exciting opportunity, Y/N, if you would take a seat and listen to him.”

However, you remain standing, spine stiff and wary eyes shifting to the man in front of you with his finely tailored clothes and perfectly combed hair. He, for what it’s worth, doesn’t cower under your stony gaze, maintaining an air of utmost confidence as he states, “Y/N, I would like for you to marry me.”

“No.”

Your answer is immediate and blunt, coming so quickly that Seokjin barely reacts—only the tiniest dip of his mouth as if he doesn’t believe he heard you correctly. But your father leaps to his feet, face red with shock and frustration.

“Y/N, you sit down and listen to the man.”

“I don’t need to listen,” you snap. “My answer is no.”

Seokjin registers your words then, face morphing into a deep frown of disbelief as your father hurries to intervene, grabbing you around the arm to pull you out of the dining room and turning on you the moment you are out of earshot.

“Insolent girl! That man will soon be one of the most powerful in the country—nay, the world! Do you understand the opportunity he is offering you? The life he is offering? How dare you refuse him!”

“Whatever life he is offering is one I want no part of,” you argue, pulling your arm from his grasp to wrap them across your chest. “I have no interest in being married to a man like that. I want to be with someone who loves me.”

He goes deathly still for a moment, drawing connections in his head until you see the moment the realization hits him. “This is about that lousy stable boy, isn’t it?”

You say nothing, only hug yourself tighter and try to swallow down the sudden lump in your throat.

“That’s it, yes? You’re still holding onto some hope that he will come back for you and what? The two of you will go off and live in some hovel? What could he possibly offer you?” he snarls. “No, Y/N. That vermin is gone. You have a chance—a real chance—at a future here, and I’ll be damned if I let you throw it away for the idea of some lower class scum.”

As his words sink in, a chill passes through your body that’s quickly replaced with a white-hot anger, your hands dropping to your sides as you straighten your back in defiance.

“Whether Jungkook returns or not,” you assert, “please be assured that I will never, ever, marry one of your suitors. I will die before I become a mere pawn for your business deals.”

Your father stares at you incredulously, eyes practically bursting from his head. “Business deals? I am looking out for you. So that you can live the luxurious life a child of mine deserves.”

“The life I deserve is the one which I want,” you exclaim. “And these rich dullards are not it.”

Final word given, you spin on your heel in emphasis and march off to your room, leaving your father to clumsily patch things up in the dining hall with a humbled and deeply befuddled Seokjin.

The letters stop two years in.

A month passes, then two, then three before you begin to really worry. Another four gone in a blink before you start to consider that you may never actually hear from him again.

For a while, you continue to write to him, thinking that at the very least, if he’s moved to a new job, someone from his old ranch may forward them along if they know where he’s gone to. But after a year of silence transpires, the mail carrier shaking his head at you each day as you rush to meet him outside your house, true dread sets in.

Your address hasn’t changed, which means that he’s stopped writing to you for some reason. Is it possible that he’s moved on? Met another woman perhaps and chosen to settle down? Or…could it be something worse? Your mind hesitates to even go down this path, the terror seeping into your bones, but the thought creeps in late at night when you’re at your most vulnerable that something may have happened to him. Work accidents, illness—any number of dangerous things could have taken him from you without you even knowing. Then again, he sounded healthy in his final letter to you, no word at all of him being ill, and you’d like to think he would’ve arranged for someone to contact you if some tragedy had befallen him.

You conclude, then, that he must have given up. And really, after years of hoping for a shift, for some change in fortune for your futures, you cannot entirely blame him. If anything, you just wish you had seen the signs sooner, sensed some kind of shift in tone that would have prepared you for his sudden silence. His last letter, though, had been much of the same—more updates on his ranching job mixed in with poetic phrases about his love for you. You read it endlessly, poring over the words for some indication that his feelings for you had waned, sitting huddled in a hidden corner of the stables as rain pounds down against the tin roof. Instead, it just makes your heart ache to remind you of love found and lost, his final words haunting you as time continues to drag on to your dismay.

As the months tick by, you keep your promise to your father, steadfastly refusing each suitor that comes to call for you: Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, and even Min Yoongi, who shows up in your dining room every evening for a fortnight before finally accepting your refusal. Meanwhile, you move through your days as if by design, going through the motions without feeling like you’re actually alive. Food is tasteless, your books void of thought, and the skies have certainly lost their color. You find that you actually prefer rainy days now, often taking walks through the drizzle and allowing the droplets of water to slide over your skin and caress you as he once did. Sometimes, it almost makes you feel as if he’s there beside you—memories of thunder and slick kisses enveloping your thoughts and soaking you from the inside out.

No fewer than seven years pass this way, with you haunting the premises of your home while your father begins to complain about you becoming a leech and a burden. You begin to question it yourself, wondering if it may be too much to waste away like this, when, three days after your twenty-seventh birthday, a discovery has you running from your father’s house and never looking back.

It’s another dreary, rainy day, and you, wanting to soak in the full effect of the emblematic weather as it pertains to your mood, have once again parked yourself on the front porch with a book. Your father passed you on his way out earlier, casting a scathing look that you didn’t even bother to grant any attention—you’ve long grown accustomed to his contempt and futile glares.

A little past midday, you glance up at the sound of a person approaching, their footsteps ricocheting off the front steps. Park Jimin comes to a halt under the porch’s cover, gazing at you curiously as if wondering why you are outside in this weather at all. However, if he finds your behavior strange, he doesn’t say anything, a choice which comes of no surprise to you. One of your father’s youngest business partners, you’ve always liked Jimin during the times that you’ve interacted with him. He’s quiet, polite, and has never made an attempt at courting you, always respecting the boundaries that many other young men have tried to cross over the years.

That being said, you’re inclined to at least offer him a greeting, acknowledging his presence with a mannered, “Hello, Mr. Park.”

“Good day,” he responds with a small bow in your direction. “Is your father at home?”

“No, he had to attend a business meeting with Mr. Kim this morning.” You frown as his face falls, a touch of panic widening his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

A delicate finger rises to rub at his temple. “Ah, I’m supposed to be finalizing a contract with Hybe Trading Company later this afternoon,” he says. “Your father told me to come pick up the documents beforehand.”

“He may be back soon,” you guess. Your father didn’t give an indication of exactly when he would return, but you do know his meeting with Kim Taehyung wasn’t supposed to last all day.

“I may not be able to take that risk.” He chews at his lip, thinking. “Is it possible that he left the contracts for me somewhere? Might you be able to check?”

Your jaw drops a fraction at his request—you could count on one hand the number of times that you’ve been in your father’s office. “I don’t think—“

“Please, Y/N,” Jimin begs. “We can’t afford to lose this partnership.”

The desperation in his expression has you acquiescing, and so you lead him inside and tell him to wait in the entryway as you head to your father’s office on the second floor.

The room is arguably the grandest in the house, with magnificent windows that give a full view of the estate’s grounds and tall bookshelves packed with your father’s collection of texts. The finest rugs protect the hardwood under your feet, and at the center of the room sits a monstrous yet beautiful mahogany desk with a plush chair at its back.

You move to the desk first, skimming the documents scattered on top for something that has the trading company’s name on it. But all you see are invoices, shipping records, and maps of different trading routes marked with your father’s notes, and lightly shuffling through the papers comes up fruitless as well.

The first desk drawer you open contains a series of highly-organized ledgers, so you quickly move on to the second, which has the same. The third drawer reveals a reserve of desk and writing supplies, while the fourth, finally, contains a mess of paper.

You rummage through the clutter, still not finding anything that seems to be the contract Jimin is looking for, and are about to give up when a stack of letters buried at the back of the compartment has you freezing, the small, neat handwriting chilling you to the bone.

Pulling the stack out with shaking hands, you quickly realize that there are a few dozen, all postmarked no more than two months apart between each one. Collapsing backwards into the desk chair, you read frantically, quickly realizing just how wrong you were about Jungkook giving up on you:

My Dearest, it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you, but I pray your letters were simply lost in transit…

I’m incredibly pleased to let you know that I’ve received a promotion. The owner of the farm, Mr. Lee, has taken a liking to me and has shifted me to a more considerable role with additional pay. I’m saving every bit I can…

My Love, I miss you deeply. And while your silence pains me to no end, I hope it is a mere misunderstanding. If you do not wish to hear from me ever again, only say the word and I will stop writing to you and remove myself from your life entirely, albeit with a heavy heart…

I still have some ways to go, but my savings are increasing exponentially, and I am learning more than ever. Mr. Lee has been teaching me about the business side of things and helping me make connections. What a wonder to have a boss who fully supports your aspirations! He insists he will be able to help me in my endeavors, and call me naive, but I believe it to be true. Rest assured, love, that I am steadfastly working hard for you, for us, and for our future…

My Darling Y/N, my heart aches to not read your words and hear your thoughts. But since you have not yet rejected me outright, I can only assume that your silence is involuntary or that it comes with deep hesitation. Whatever the reason, please know that I love you, I miss you, and I am not giving up on us unless you tell me so…

And finally, the shortest letter dated almost year back:

Y/N,

I don’t have the words to describe my feelings so I will keep it brief: I did it. If this letter finds its way to you and you wish to find me, I eagerly await you at our home…

The location is scribbled in a tangle of text, his usually neat writing askew as if he was shaking when he wrote it, and the words land with the force of a thousand bricks in your chest—the weight of seven years apart, the agony of your separation, finally culminating in this revelation.

The door to the office bangs open, and you look up, heart already racing with the discovery of the letters, to see your father looming in the doorway, face painted with rage.

“What in the hell are you doing in my private office?!”

You’re on your feet in an instant, storming across the room and shaking the final letter in his face. “What is this?!”

He pales a fraction as he registers what you’re holding before stepping further into the room and slamming the door shut. “I should have burned them,” he sneers. “I did what I did to protect you.”

“From what?” You wave your arms wildly, anger and adrenaline winding their way through your limbs. “From happiness? From a man who has spent years working hard to be able to provide for me?”

“I have worked hard to provide for you! And I will not see my legacy be thrown aside for some silly crush!”

Steeling yourself, you pull in a steadying breath for courage. “Then you won’t.”

“And what does that mean?” your father scoffs, trying to look dismissive and intimidating, yet seeming smaller than you’ve ever seen him.

“You won’t see any of it. I’m leaving.”

“What?”

Time stops for a moment, your declaration holding the air in the room hostage as your father fully absorbs your words.

“You ungrateful idiot girl!” your father suddenly exclaims. “After everything I’ve done for you? Fine then! Go live with the dogs, with the filth and slime you apparently love so dearly. I have had it with your thanklessness and impertinence and will be relieved to have you from my sight.” He steps into your personal space, pointing a finger directly at your face so close that you can feel the heat of his ire radiating off of his hand. “But know this: the second you step out of these doors, you will never be welcomed back. Never.”

You waste only two seconds longer, locked in a stubborn stare-down with your father before you rip your gaze away and tear from the room with Jungkook’s letters still in hand. Rushing to your room, you gather his other letters from your desk and stuff them into a bag along with the modest sum of money you had accumulated in case you ever needed to run.

And then you’re a bird in flight, sweeping down the stairs and out the door with nothing but a simple, “Good day, Mr. Park,” as you pass an absolutely bewildered Jimin in the front hall.

The rain is cold and heavy as it soaks through your clothes and hair almost immediately, but you barely feel it—the freedom in your heart and the scribbled location in your bag more than enough to keep you warm as you charge towards home.

The house is beautiful.

Modest, compared to the mansion you grew up in, sure. But arguably more beautiful—with a compact two stories, white wood, and neatly painted green shutters. There’s a wrap-around porch overlooking the acres upon acres of farmland, and even through the rain falling in sheets and blurring your vision, you spy two rocking chairs sitting side-by-side under the awning.

It’s been a long two weeks of journeying to get to this spot, relying on the kindness of strangers to help you navigate to the location Jungkook had written down. Now, standing at the end of the dirt path leading up to what is presumably your new home, you think that you would do it all again in a heartbeat. The past two weeks, the past seven years, all worth it to experience the hope currently blooming in your chest like the sunflowers you spent so much time admiring in the past.

You’re trudging up the path, the dirt and mud smearing along your shoes, when a darkened figure steps out from the fields to your right, hand raised in greeting.

“Good afternoon, miss. Are you lost? I—” He grinds to a halt like he’s walked straight into a brick wall, eyes wide and lips parted as he absorbs the sight of you soaked and disheveled on his property.

“Y/N?” he says it like a prayer, like he believes you’re some kind of hallucination—a phantom come to haunt him through the haze of rainy memories.

You stare at each other through the downpour, and you find yourself studying him, observing the changes that have taken place in the time you’ve been apart. He’s taller and broader than you remember, shoulders stretching wide and drawing your gaze down towards biceps that protrude below his drenched shirt. The lines of his face have sharpened with age—losing some of the youthful roundness that had endeared him to you so quickly—but he’s still starry-eyed as ever, the charming young man from your memories undoubtedly gazing back at you.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, and the spell is suddenly broken. You surge towards each other, meeting in the middle with a flash of lightning. Your arms go around his shoulders, and Jungkook pulls you into him so desperately and with so much force that he lifts you right off your feet, your mouths coming together with a heated urgency.

He’s everything you’ve dreamed of, every desperate memory you’ve been clinging to come back to life. And with every touch, every pass of his hands over your body, you feel yourself rapidly coming back to life too—joy making its way into your lungs and through your bloodstream for the first time since you were twenty years old and kissing this man in your family’s stables.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips when you finally part. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“You have no idea–”

“I do. Jungkook, I do.”

“You stopped writing—”

“My father,” you rush to say. “He intercepted the letters. I thought you stopped writing. Thought you gave up—”

“Oh, my love, never.” His hands rise to cradle your face. “I never stopped thinking of you. Never stopped dreaming of this.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, savoring every movement of his lips against yours.

You shudder against his chest, the thrill of your reunion rattling your nerves just as a cool wind blows through, and Jungkook pulls back with worry.

“You must be freezing,” he murmurs sweetly. “Come. Let’s get you warmed up inside.”

With an arm wrapped around your waist, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep a hand on you, he guides you the rest of the way to the house, up the front porch steps, and through the front door.

“Welcome home,” Jungkook says.

You’re met first with the smell of pine and cinnamon and an impossibly comforting warmth. The first floor is comprised of a wide-open space, with a small kitchen and dining room to your left and a sitting room to your right that has tall windows and a fireplace that is currently roaring. You move around the room slowly, taking it all in, and when you notice the vase of bright sunflowers sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, you just about melt to the floor.

“I know it’s smaller than you’re used to,” he sheepishly mumbles from the doorway. “But we can expand in the future—”

“It’s perfect, Jungkook.” And it really is, every panel and floorboard evidence of how hard he’s worked, how fiercely your love has endured. “It’s absolutely perfect. I love every bit of it.”

He brightens at that, smile stretching wide. “I’m glad.”

“How did you find it?”

“Well, I bought the property after finally saving enough money. Mr. Lee helped me with the buying process.” He shrugs. “And then I built this.”

You freeze, absolutely stunned. “You what?”

“I built it,” he says simply. “I had some help, of course. But the design is all mine.”

“I…you…” It makes your thoughts spin—the idea that he did all of this. He built a house for you.

“Here, look.” He takes your hand and pulls you into the living room, gesturing at a set of empty shelves against the back wall. “For your books.”

You laugh incredulously, fully overwhelmed at this point. “I didn’t bring any with me.”

“Then we’ll start you a new collection,” he says softly, drawing you towards him.

You reach up to trace his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones—memorizing every line of this beautiful man who dared to make your dreams a reality. “I can’t believe this. Can’t believe you. The things you’ve done.”

“All for you, my love.”

Your heart thumps a steady rhythm in your throat, love and the relief of finally—finally—having him in front of you overpowering your senses until all that exists is you and him; the strain of your former life feels worlds away.

Hands find his chest in a slow migration downwards as the chill of the rain gives way to the heat of the fireplace, and it’s not long before his large hands are wrapping around your hips, a darkness in his irises that wasn’t there a second ago.

“There’s an upstairs, too, I’m assuming?” you whisper, fingers teasing a button on his shirt.

“There is.” He swallows, and you watch the bob of his Adam’s apple like a lure. “Would you like to see it?”

You lean in, skimming your mouth below his without fully joining your lips. “Please.”

Tangling your fingers in his, he practically runs upstairs with you trailing in his wake.

Finally, you think, as he pulls your clothes from your body, climbs over you on the bed, and presses into you with such tender deliberation that you think you’ll combust.

Finally, as you spend the rest of the night wrapped up together, endlessly whispering I love yous back and forth.

Finally, as you wake up in his arms the next day, his face the first thing you see.

Finally, as he pulls out a small box at breakfast, the dainty diamond ring easily the most precious piece of jewelry you’ve ever possessed.

Finally, as he takes you out on the farm and shows you the small field of sunflowers he planted just for you.

Finally, you think, as you sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch and watch him work from afar. I’m home.

Years Later…

“Mama! Mama look!”

You glance up from your book to where Jungkook and Haneul are currently journeying in the yard. It’s a bright sunny day—the wide expanse of blue sky above unmarred by even a single cloud. Sunshine beams down onto your son’s smiling face where he sits on the back of one of the horses, a too-big cowboy hat on his head and his father at his side for support.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart!” you call. “Just be sure to listen to Papa!”

Jungkook flashes you a grin, the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He’s been talking about teaching Haneul to ride since the day he was born, so you know this means a great deal to him, especially seeing your son’s own energy and enthusiasm. Haneul has always liked the “horsies,” toddling happily around the stables ever since he could walk.

Then again, given who his parents are, that wasn’t much of a surprise.

Jungkook and Haneul finish their loop around the yard, and you hear your husband shower the boy with praise as he lifts him off of the horse’s back.

“Again, again!” Haneul cheers, bouncing in place and causing Jungkook to laugh.

“We will! Just let me check on your mother first.”

He moves comfortably, leisurely as he climbs the porch steps and comes to a rest in front of where you sit. Looming over you, he leans in until he can press a gentle kiss to your lips, reverent in his motions.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His fingers brush lightly over your belly and its new curve.

“I’m alright,” you say, guiding his hand until his palm is resting flat. “This one is kicking up a storm though.”

As if on cue, you feel a tiny jolt—Jungkook giving a breathless chuckle as he feels the jab himself.

“Go easy on your mother,” he says in the direction of your stomach, rubbing a soft circle into your flesh. “No storms. Clear skies and sunshine.” Then his eyes are back on your face. “Speaking of, I have something for you.”

He reaches behind his back and produces a single sunflower, tucking it behind your ear before giving you one more kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.” More than the day you met him. More than the day he left. And more than the day you finally made your way here.

“Now I should get back to Haneul before he starts yelling for me.”

You laugh out the brightest sound that’s ever come from your lungs. “Go.”

A warm breeze ripples through the trees, the sound of your son’s giggles and Jungkook’s cheerful exclamations finding their way back to where you sit.

What a beautiful day, you think, setting down your book and getting up to join your family in the golden sunshine.

a/n: thanks for reading! pls don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

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k-hotchoisan · 8 months

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b4 anything I js wanna say that I appreciate ur writing so much like they're always so fucking good!!

can we hace a fic / oneshot / wtv of wooyoung inspired by some twt link?? it's of ur choice !!!

ilysm and happy new years eve!!

Happy new year to you too darlin! Thanks for being patient and also for giving my fics so much love!

Here’s one twt link for you 🩷

I love you so much too 🥹🩷

to the side

Wooyoung finds in himself in a predicament when he’s asked to wake you up—to fuck you or not. Of course he does.

part two here 💖

Genres/warnings: perv&DILF!wooyoung, wooyoung is your friend’s rich uncle, unprotected sex, quickie(kind of), light choking, cream pies, slight somoniphilia, kinda filthy LMAO

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

You lie on your friend’s bed, forcing yourself not to fall asleep on her soft mattress, especially when her blankets are all over you.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. Dinner is gonna be ready in a bit”, she teases, poking your cheek. You grumble slightly, staring up at your friend. “See, that’s what happens when you’re binging that stupid romance reality show till 4am.”

You stick your tongue out playfully. Your friend rolls her eyes.

“But for real though, dinner is gonna be pretty busy later tonight.”

You sit up slightly. “And why’s that?”

“My brother is coming back home, and you know how much of a crush he has on you. The moment he knew you were coming to the dinner, he booked a flight back.”

You blink, pretty unamused. Sure, your friend’s brother was a looker, and you were flattered that he apparently had eyes for you. But there was someone else. Someone, who from the first moment you saw him, would leave you squeezing your thighs a little-

“-and then Uncle Wooyoung is coming over as well.”

You bite your lower lip at the sound of his name. It was such a messed up thing—your friend trying to hook you up with her brother, but there was only one person who caught your eye ever since the camping trip her family organised—Wooyoung.

Since then, you wonder when her family would invite him over again. He was bright and had such an addictive personality when you interacted with him. You pray that he never heard the hammering sound of your heartbeat whenever he bumped his knees against yours, whenever he smiled at you, when he held your chin to steady your face as he wiped the sweat off your face after you helped out to cook dinner with him.

The tension had always been there. It’s just whether he had realised it as well. And the thought of him feeling the same way? Gods, your heart would never beat like a normal person’s, not when he seems to find joy in teasing you when he’s around the vicinity.

“Jesus, y/n, your face is red. Thinking about my brother much?” She giggles.

You cup your cheeks, feeling the heat flush on your cheeks at the thought of Wooyoung, before you bury your face with her blankets. It was annoying how your friend was wholly convinced that you felt the same for her brother, despite the lack of interest you reciprocated to her whenever he was mentioned. Nonetheless, you think that it’s better than her finding out that you have a fat crush on her uncle.

Well, she doesn’t need to know.

The conversation soon dissolves into a comfortable silence. Thirty minutes later, your friend leaves you to fall into a deep slumber as she slips off her bed to help set up the dinner table.

Wooyoung steps into his brother’s mansion, fitting his sunglasses into his raven hair. His niece runs to him and greets him cheerfully, and he ruffles her hair, earning a pout from her.

“Your brother’s not back yet?” Wooyoung asks, his eyes scanning the table. His niece shakes her head. “The traffic is bad from what he told me like fifteen minutes ago. He told us to start without him.

Right, y/n is here too.”

And that’s when Wooyoung’s ears perked up.

“Of course she is.”

He feels his heart soar. From the moment he had met you at his brother’s dinner party he held for Christmas a year ago, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you. And it only sprouts and grows when you had joined his niece’s camping trip Wooyoung’s brother organised for the long weekend. He knows it’s sinful but he can’t help it.

At first he thinks your reactions when he lightly flirts with you are adorable—the light pink tint that reaches your face as he teases you, before you pout and swipe him off. Then, it’s the secretive glances you would steal, thinking that he doesn’t notice—but of course he does. And finally, what almost sends Wooyoung into a spiral is when your gaze meets his as you lick the icing cream off your fingers from the cake on your friend’s birthday (it was cheesy as fuck too). He probably never had a pure thought since.

His niece’s light tug on his black polo sleeve snaps him out of his thoughts, and potentially a dangerously growing erection, as he turns to his niece with a forced smile.

“Could you wake y/n up for me? She’s in my room. I honestly did not want to let her take a nap since dinner’s nearing but I felt bad so I just let her sleep.”

Wooyoung swallows hard. Right. It’s just a quick task of waking you up from slumber right? Nothing more than that. He nods quickly, then disappearing into the staircase.

Your friend pauses for a moment, a little too late when she realises that she forgot to mention that you had your pants off the last she left the room. But the thought is scrubbed away when her dad calls her over.

Oh well.

Wooyoung’s mind starts floating to how you’d look asleep—peaceful? Probably very pretty since he was already entranced by how you’d look awake. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t know until he pushed the door open, and he hates the fact that his cock is already straining against his pants at the thought of you sprawled out in bed.

He knocks the door once, twice, before he announces that he’s coming in, and then he pushes the door open. Wooyoung’s breath is caught in his throat.

You’re there, definitely, breathing softly with the most calm expression, deep in slumber, covered in the seemingly endless amount of blankets. Wooyoung calls out your name once, twice as well, before he nears the bed. He tugs against the thick blankets, pretending to be unaffected by your soft groans which is evidently going right to his cock, that is, until what gets revealed to him under the sheets.

Your bare legs and thighs all out for him, only clad in a pair of pink panties hugging your hips, your padded top that had rode up, your tummy exposed to the cold air of the air conditioning. Wooyoung feels like it’s a reward just as much as it’s a punishment. His strings of rationale slowly continue to snap as he watches you shift in your sleep, the way you squeeze your thighs as more soft noises come out of you. He makes the daring decision to climb into the bed with you, careful not to wake you up with any sudden movements.

But you stir slightly, your hands reaching out to tangle the blankets in your fingers as you groan from the cold.

Not realising you had fisted Wooyoung’s shirt, tugging him down onto you, and Wooyoung yelps in surprise as his body weight falls onto you, alongside the blankets. You squeal, your eyes snapping open from the confusion, the smell of Wooyoung’s cologne flooding your nose.

Wooyoung is above you, more specifically, his lips are barely inches away from yours.

His thumb trails down to your lips, tugging at your bottom lip slightly. Any ounce of self control that remained in him has completely dissolved when he watches your eyes slip to glance down at his lips before it darts back to his eyes. That is when it’s clear as day that he wants you all to himself, and that he wants to fucking ruin you.

“Open for me, darling”, he coaxes, and you do, so easily for him, letting his thumb slip past your lips. The sleep is slowly being replaced by lust, overflowing lust that you’ve been holding back, trying to seal tight, now leaking through the holes Wooyoung has poked effortlessly.

His lips engulf yours—hungry and so soft. He tastes like heaven. You’ve been dreaming of just a taste of them, and he’s giving you the full course meal. It takes you mere seconds to melt into him and the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him deeper and deeper into this sinful intoxication. Your hands dig into Wooyoung’s hair, unintentionally tugging slightly, the sound that comes out Wooyoung only pools in your panties.

When he pulls back, his breathing is shallow, basking in the way your eyes look glazed out just from making out. It makes his greed look justifiable.

“I’d love to take my time to send you to heavens, darling, but your friend and her family is calling you for dinner”, he whispers, his voice sounding like honey, melting in your ears. Wooyoung believes he still has an ounce of rationale left at least.

And it’s completely obliterated when he hears you say “but it’s such a waste when I’m already looking like this for you.”

Wooyoung’s fingers are at the waistband of your panties, but he doesn’t pull it off. Instead he tugs your panties to the side, taking a sharp inhale at the wetness pooling out of your pussy.

He unbuttons his trousers, pulling his cock out, already leaking with precum. He’s failing at trying to compose himself, because he doesn’t waste time to shift your panties to the side and slide his cock right into you.

His hips snap against yours, and he holds your legs up. His mind is melting at the feeling of how warm your pussy is hugging him, how you’re completely undone by him, your arm over your mouth so you don’t make any noise, only soft moans leaving your lips.

“Dirty little girl, letting your friend’s uncle fuck you stupid like this”, Wooyoung mutters, watching the way his cock sinks and disappears into your wet cunt, fitting him perfectly when he hears you whimper beneath him. “Right on her fucking bed as well.”

“So good Wooyoung. You feel so full in me”, you gasp every time you feel his cockhead hit your cervix.

Everything about this is so wrong. But the truth was that it was unavoidable—it was in due time that the tension between the both of you snapped, and who could Wooyoung thank more than his niece, who sent him up, thinking it was harmless to simply just wake you up.

The way you’re loving every second of it makes Wooyoung think that it’s all the more worth, to fill you up so good, to taint you, to send you to paradise—even if it was gonna last for a moment, for now.

Mostly because he’s already planning to bring you home after this and keep you all for himself.

“Gods, your pretty little pussy was fuckin made for me”, Wooyoung hisses, whenever your cunt sucks him in. Wooyoung is definitely a noisy partner, and he knows that very well, and so he’s biting his cheeks, trying to stop himself from whining. It does the job, but he almost lets a couple of moans slip when he feels you clench around him every few seconds.

Your eyes are rolled back, one hand clasped over your mouth, and that makes Wooyoung wonder how much filthy words, noise, could leave your lips when he has you all for himself. You’re crying his name like a mantra, keeping your eyes on him despite your eyes gradually watering from the sheer pleasure, and Wooyoung almost breaks at the way you’re looking up at him as he fucks you dumb.

You love it. So fucking much.

Wooyoung’s hands snake to your throat, lightly squeezing you, his cock twitching as his orgasm taunts him. “You’re gonna be my good girl and take my cum, won’t you?”

You nod almost instantaneously, even when Wooyoung has his fingers wrapped around your throat, even when your cunt is fluttering around him, desperate to keep him, and especially when you realise you’re fucking head over heels for Jung Wooyoung.

“That’s my girl.”

Wooyoung stills in you, spurting cum right into your sopping pussy, before he snaps your panties right back into position, then diving right back to your lips for another hungry kiss, feeling your thighs shake pathetically against him.

Then he pulls you up with him to leave the bed, handing you your shorts.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting, darling”, he says casually, watching you as you hastily pull up your shorts, his heart fluttering when he feels your soft hands on his as he leads you out of your friend’s room.

His fingers that curl around yours slowly lets go when the dinning hall comes into view.

“That took you awhile”, your friend’s mother says, untying her apron.

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Your friend pokes, already taking a seat at the table.

“She’s a heavy sleeper”, Wooyoung explains, his side glance meeting yours as he prides his playful smile. “Had to find ways to get her to wake up.” You swallow hard.

Your friend scoffs in amusement.

You take the seat opposite your friend, where Wooyoung immediately takes the one beside you, which draws a confused expression from your friend, which you know is because she wants her brother to be seated there, but she doesn’t say anything. Her attention is being swept away when the door bell rings and she rushes off to greet her brother.

Wooyoung leans into you, his low voice reverberating in your ears, not doing anything helpful to prevent his cum from leaking right onto your panties.

“If you hold my cum in your tight little pussy like a good girl, I’ll breed two more loads into you when we get back”, he smiles, giving you a pat on your thigh before he pulls back, leaving your heart pounding in your ears. You force yourself to stand and smile as your friend’s brother walks in, his eyes brightening when he sees you, but all you’re thinking is your pussy just being full of Wooyoung’s warm cum, and how much more he’s about to pound into you once this agonising dinner is over.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung

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