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chokchokk · 8 months

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𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 | park seonghwa x fem!reader x choi san

part one of gangster!mafia!series "𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞-𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞"

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Picking your own poison, if poison was given to you in form of bankrolls by venomous men with high demands.

In which Park Seonghwa had a plan and Choi San has ideas.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : noir, smut, angst | korean mafia/geondal!au | ceo/jaebeol!au

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 18.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : entitled rich people, workplace harassment, alcoholism, softdom ceo!seonghwa (headman park), half-drunk satoori-using dom mafiaboss!san (mr. choi), both are called by their names at some point, sub-leaning bratty switch servant!femreader, use of (pet-)names (missy, baby, princess), groping, thigh-riding, light choking, light hair-pulling, non-penetrative sex, voyeur!seonghwa, sex in the elevator, counts as mirror sex right, biting kink, manhandling!san, edging, breeding, cum-eating (m), cunnilingus; reader hates the rich except for when they are sexy, implied but not severe age gap, writer does not have daddy kink but mafiaboss!san does, gunshots and death, use of korean proverbs

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : this with the next part will be the origin story for reader, specifically the series synopsis’ first half :) originally, this has been a request, so please read this, if you desire to have a bit more insight to what the series actually is + translations of certain terms (mostly character dynamics) in this chapter !!

tl;dr: since it's all based around korean mafia/gangster/etc, there will be korean culture scattered between the lines. it is all translated, hopefully in an understandable way!!! (please hmu if there are difficulties) i let out honorifics/romanisation, except for "chaebol" since it's an actual word :) that being said, reader's ethnicity is not specified and won't be relevant to the series in any way !!

smut comes after the second border, and uh,,, i had to shorten that shit (pls dont ask me where) but uh. you’re getting 8k words of smut so buckle up LMAO !!! i hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it !!! thank you for likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo (also this is NOT beta-read so pls dont hesitate to tell me about... like.... errors, tags and shit)

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It's getting repetitive. They are drinking their ninth bottle of expensive whiskey, smoking their third or fourth disgustingly pricey cigar— what the fuck, is this seriously what the upper men of your nation are doing at some stupid chairman’s dinner party?

“Missy!”

“Me, sir?”

No wonder the economy's fucking shit.

“Yeah, you, missy, give that gent over there one of our divine Denmarks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Give him a kiss too, while you’re at it! What do you think? He’s still got it, no?”

Said ‘gent’, some old, scummy clown— winks at you, his gray eyelashes fluttering towards your direction.

“Yes, sir."

God, how bad you wish you had snuck your phone in to take a picture of these red, drunken, senseless faces, but you're a dutiful servant, abiding by the rules at all times, however difficult it may be. You’re holding in your puke professionally, not even doing something as to grit your teeth, just softly letting your jaw play along to your friendly smile.

“Does your willy even still work that way, old friend?", a cranky, yet humorous voice pitches in.

Agreeing to your supervisor’s offer to earn “big money” may have been a bad idea, but a good choice. Jongho said he’d seen you at your work, took special note of you— even though you weren’t sure where exactly he had observed you, since it’s only been a month of actually working as a servant in the lower tiers of the building— and wanted to give you a chance to swim with the big sharks. “I think you’re best suited for the job,” is what he said to make you giggle and think about your initial rejection of his proposition, “you have a talent for serving.”

Something you didn’t know you had, something you didn’t know someone would see in you ever in your life, “talent.” Sure, maybe you let yourself be persuaded a bit too fast, but it felt very touching that somebody saw you and saw potential, for whatever occasion it may be for. You don’t necessarily want to screw the rules of the hierarchical pyramid or what it was that kept you from being in the proximity of the chairman, but you really need the extra cash right now.

"What does a girl from the mountains look for in being a servant in the city?", had been the question you were asked by Lady Kim who gave you the leftovers of her restaurant at the end of the day, when you had just started with the training– poor, barely standing on your own feet.

You remember how you explained to her that the buddhist monks who raised and send you here surrounded themselves with wells to remind everyone that water always returned, and you assumed it would work the same with wealth. You also remember how hard she tried to stay kind to you, showing you her sincerest sympathy by telling you that "the chaebol are no joke!" (at least not a joke, an innocent girl like you could laugh about, she later explained) and giving you an extra portion of her home-made dumplings to suit you up.

Her sharp, yet compassionate voice rings in your ears, as you reapply your red lipstick on the way to your target guest. Oh, Lady Kim, what a graceful woman– she put her all into her work for her restaurant to succeed, but had always made a place to share what she had for those who needed it. Such a lovable woman, she must have been well-liked by all around her.

You get it now, the way you had been so naive back then. Floating on the philosophical happy-go-lucky psyche of the city’s promise of prosperity, trying to live the Korean dream strangely enough as someone who was so sarcastically out of touch with it. If you had been in her position, you wouldn’t have been able to be as nice, no, would have warned yourself with a finger pointed upwards as if you were teaching a little kid about strangers, or how your monks said, ‘tigers in the woods’.

“After that cigar, his dick will turn to dust!”

Maybe things would have looked different, if you hadn’t taken that fund from the school’s superintendent, who slid you that card on your table with a smirk on his face. Oh dear, do you remember how excited you had been? You ran through the streets in your worn-out shoes with that plastic sheet in your hand, on your way to tell that the money on it was such a ridiculously high number that you could split— but Lady Kim had got to know it first, the ridiculousness of the rich, with the demolition of her restaurant-building.

“He’s got no cum in his nutsacks ‘no more anyway!”

No warning, no compensation, just everything crushed to pieces to make place for the big corporations; the fancy neon-signs she'd invested in, the ambition of her enthusiastic dreams, your only source of tender charity, shattered to a wreck. You have never seen her since, and can only laugh about how the fancy food of the chaebol—and you definitely know who they are now, those tasteless men gawking at you in the moment—doesn’t even look half as good as her low-cost black bean noodles you could more than afford now.

The present day-you is less dreamy, but just as lost, forced to work off a debt you hadn’t been informed about when you lived off the favorable “fund”-money. No, Lady Kim, this is all a joke, you would tell her today. A really fucking bad one.

So, making room for another ha-ha in your life, you pulled your eyes up innocently, returning Jongho’s specious smiles. “Is it illegal to collect pocket-money from the rich?” It’s not like you had any doubts at that point, but 'they'll buy you out of prison if you’re good enough' was all you needed anyway to put your uniform on tightly at home.

"Can't even shoot his cum in missy to save his blood!"

Your more experienced co-workers are watching you work with a condescending frown, feeling both jealous you're getting all the men's attention, but also maliciously delighted you're being challenged as the new-coming servant who's obviously of erotic interest to these richlings. They want you to get a "taste of life" for you may be the most goody-goody fawning bitch they have ever seen; just a young birdbrain who has nothing to bring to the table except her body. Young thing won’t hold up, doesn't know who she's working with— though they are quite right about that part, you must admit, you frankly didn’t look up whose money you’re taking right now— she doesn’t know who the fuck she is.

"What? Did his son leave the company, too?"

It’s flattering to know that the other pretty servants look at you and only see some candy-coated muppet, but fairly, your ever-frozen smile on your face doesn’t give them much to work with. You’re simply an annoyance to their routine, and if you could, you would like to comfort them by saying none of the money you’re getting will stay in your hands– they’d be so happy to hear that you’re really worth nothing– but you must stay focused.

“Idiot, he’s only got a daughter!”

So yes, that being said, you’re glad nobody ever asks you about you. Everyone just assumes, judges from what they see, and if what they see is an opportunistic bimbo-girl chasing money, then so be it, right?

"You know, the one he married off to the governor?”

Right. Because you too have not a single second to think nor talk about your past. The present is scarce and the future is fragile, you know it the best. And you owe it to your old men to make the best out of their efforts, don't you? The air in this room may not be the one you inhaled in the mountains, but you still have to use it, breathe, be alive, despite how moldy and spoiled it simmers in your throat.

"Real mad! Anything to avoid that fee, huh, missy? Got no semen and no glory! You really want to give him that cigar?”

So, that taste of life? Fucking bitter, just like how that name 'missy' seeps and sweats on your tongue. You can’t loathe your co-workers for this reason, they're basically in the same wooden, shaky boat as you, but these asswipes here are floating on a fucking yacht. Of course they don't follow some type of code of human decency for you, they don't give two shits about the lowlifes, the poor. They watch them like a spectacle, and because they don't regard you as a human-being but rather a toy, they play with you on strings that are, on the other hand, binding together a big, fat bankroll.

Ka-Ching.

Eyes on the price, Y/N, eyes on the price. You may not own a lot, that's been more than established, but if there is something you have, it's dutifulness, commitment, and proficiency. It will remain difficult to keep inner peace and honor with a job of which "duty" it is to be a deferential, subservient doll, but at least you're alive and well, soon to leave this floor with more money to your name that these fuckers don't know anyway, right? Never let that smile drop, smart girl. You have a talent, just like your supervisor said. Just keep on serving.

“No children-makin' is better for the cheatin'— ha!”, the barren, that fruitless man who’s been made fun of whoops in to stand up for himself, and awaits his tobacco that's being driven to him by your cart.

You open up the wooden chest in which the cheroots, so unnecessarily gold-plated, sit and ridicule you with their rare existence. There are just thousands of dollars sitting in your hand right now, and as you fetch the thick roll with wary fingers, you think, fucking hell, this could feed so many people, and they're just smoking it away like it's nothing, assholes.

The other servants frown at you spitefully during the time you bow down. You're sensually placing the brown cylindrical object into his mouth, a match lighting held to his face to light it up. In addition to the experience, you hold one long stare with his washy eyes, because you assume it will ignite him.

And, oh, how excited he gets.

"Thank you, sir," you chuckle and flutter with your eyelashes, pursing up your lips like you’re an innocent little girl getting a piece of candy behind her parents’ back.

“Just mad! Missy's young enough to be your grandchild, fella!”

You’re aware of exactly what your dear co-workers are thinking, but being ordered to light their cigs and then ogled at is not "baby-treatment” or whatever they’re muttering under their breath, it's your subtle strategy to have that bankroll be slid between your thighs.

"Hey now, I still can get it on! Don't you think so too, missy?"

Dumb Y/N, only has money on her mind. Allows herself to be called "missy", like a dumb fucking slut.

Hm, kind of has a ring to it, don't you think?

"Yes, sir."

Let them all think you're a dummy. Let them believe, believe each other's words in whatever they fucking want. You're almost too certain it's the secret reason Jongho offered you a place here anyway; "suited for the job", because he deems you dense enough to not understand any of the nonsense these twelve men are babbling, "big money", because he knows you will do anything for it.

You’ll still take the talent, but if he really thinks the rest, then oh, sucks to be him.

Yes, you haven’t looked up the names of who the men here are for the same reasons they're not using yours, but the second you’re out of this whiny, weak testosterone-drowned room, you're going to write the most thorough blackmail, because you can not listen to their cheating, money-laundering, corrupted bullshit anymore. Getting involved with the handshakers is the last thing you should do if you want to live a silent, carefree life, and you know this too well, but they're not going to believe it was you anyway. They wouldn’t dream of their missy to do such a competent, smart thing. You even know what you're going to write under the letter so they have something to think about in their cells: 'birds listen to the words of day, mice to the words at night'— walls have ears, too.

Ah, the soft, sometimes very cryptic voice of your favorite old monk. Always there to teach you new things, remind you of how to live your life cheerfully. You still believe he would have rather kept you in the mountains and not drop you on a wild voyage into the unknown urban life, but your old man had his reincarnation coming. You should visit his grave again, it's been a while, hasn't it? Wouldn't he be so proud to see you? To see how much his little Y/N has grown and learnt, using his proverbs to restore justice? Well, for what you still can collect of your late mentor, he would probably make big eyes and use his whole body to keep your monetary gift away from him. "Teacher," you would ask, "don't you at least want to save?", and his answer would remain the same;

"Peace comes free."

You feel warm at the distant memory of the bald-headed man warming himself in his orange gown, teaching you about love, harmony and kindness, but that sweet veil of untainted innocence has long dropped from your eyes.

In front of you, you see tycoons continuing having a blast being their shitty selves, and as golden teeth blend your sight, they are entertaining each other by staring at your legs that are covered by your sheer black stockings, whispering their insight of how you'd look like under it, but the mini-skirt only leaves so much for imagination.

"Sweet missy!"

How could you not want to spit into their face? They have bought the war. They have bought the chaos. And why? Just because they can. It doesn't cost you anything to restore some peace, maybe that’s the thing your old man got right.

"Yes, sir?”

“Do you have any Cubans left, sweet missy?”

“A Cuban, coming right up, sir.”

“Hopefully someone’s gonna come after the party tonight!”

Are you humiliated? As someone who lived among the wisest, clearest heads, and was considered just as smart by them to be wished a ‘more fortunate life’ — No.

You couldn’t care less about their perversions. Especially now, when they seemingly don’t care enough to know your name you've introduced yourself with. You are here for one reason, and it's not to prove your worth to the world, it's to secure your place in it, get that parasitic debt off your shoulders.

And if anything, as long you are staying truthful to yourself, there’s nothing that could take away your spirit. That’s what you want to believe, at least. When you’re out of debt and continue with this job, you could spend every day downtown like the other servants, but for you, it's all going to the savings for the family you're going to feed with not one worry in life on the clear land in the mountains, not under a sky that's polluted by light even when the sun has set.

The clock has announced night long time ago. Outside the windows, there shines and roams a loud, restless city under a starless, foggy black blanket, inhabited by people like you who live day by day to make their living, like small flies forgathered in a hive of exhausting labor, buzzing their life away.

It’s what you think every time you peek down the glass room: Seoul has never looked so small. Across and around the ever-flowing Han-River, the metropole is the home of millions who are looking up with their heads far back their necks to the point right here, where you stand, at the center or peak of all the wealth gathered together, inside the highest building standing tall amidst of the tumult, on the 114th floor, towering over the world in a luxurious dining room decorated by exotic animals, marbled statues and most importantly the filthy glimmer of something they call ‘class’.

“Missy,” the chairman calls out for you, raising his hand, right after he’s made another infidelity joke and showed his luxurious wedding ring to the audience.

“Yes, sir?”, you call out, wearing your pristine servant-smile with your hands folded nicely in front of your stomach, voice not tainted by your disgust as to even one note, despite the other servants looking at you with hateful expressions. They wish you the worst; the worst treatment, the worst performance, anything to get you out of this place.

Maybe they're driven by the same instincts and avarice that makes you hate the rich, with them just thinking you're taking away their money, but it's free territory here with these predators; you just make for great prey.

It’s a challenge to all of the people involved and the contestants can only win. Will it be another pick-up line? You're going to pick on that with ease. Another joke about your age? That one is never going to get old. There, bring it on, you think, and feel proud of your confident spirit, ready to run with whatever they throw and stash it into your wallet.

“You see those youngsters back there? Get 'em some more ice."

“Yes, sir.”

“Chaps don't know how to drink the good stuff yet, what a waste! Next time, buy 'em the cheap soju from the mart! The ones for 5,000 Won, missy, you know those?”

“Yes, sir.” Your whole face flashes a smile, bowing to accept the task of refilling some ice, dragging your cart across the room, as male laughter rings in your ears. It's as if they don't realize they also drink cheap liquor, but you suppose that's forgettable when they are flushing the fanciest of meats down with it.

"Be careful, missy!"

Are you being too mild by saying you want to ram the green glass-bottles into their heads?

"They bite!”

Maybe choke them with their own money bills?

Yes, “Yes, sir.”

It's a fun exercise to fantasize about how to hurt them, so you thought you would be busy enough to ignore the chairman's warning, but as you are on your long way to the end of the even longer glass table to push your cart towards the men he is referring to, there's a growing feeling inside your guts that oh, the chairman may be ...

Huh, right for the first time. The quizzical lump expands warmly as much as it is cold, with goosebumps running down your spine, your hands feeling hotter than ever over the metal cart. Your whole body is trying to signal you that something is off on the other side of the table, but you don’t know whether to ignore it or run.

The annoying, empty-minded, impertinent elders, who have been belly-laughing at the chairman's joke a second ago stop with their chatting and only exhale huffs, and prolong them nervously, that’s off. The servants gulping, loosening their crossed arms– that’s off, too.

“So, uhh… Where was the, uh– food from?”

“Oh, lad, good topic, yes– the delicious food…”

It seems that everyone in the room is trying to fill in the silence with the fakest of laughter, so the chairman can move on from the topic, but you're well over your way there, uninformed to what you're going to be hit with once you halt.

Tycoons like them usually don't need back-checking. You know how to deal with ill-willed imbeciles that only use their estate as a weapon. Their bodies and brains have passed prime an eternity ago. Left behind are only their numbed minds that seek shelter in lust, ecstasy and aphrodisia because nothing else excites them anymore. They’re what you probably would have been if you hadn’t spent your teens brewing tea and listening to the leaves rustle, not experiencing all euphoria and more at a too early age– they’re washed out, just swimming in money they haven't worked a day for, are lazy, weary sloths.

However, opposed to the cloudiness in their class that's only getting more foggier through the many years of monopoly, these two men that are waiting in front of you, and you understand why your lungs are pinging now, they are potent.

Money is power, but twist it around and there is them, with that; a certain force that the rich ooze out by just acting and looking a certain way, and oh, Y/N, how they are, how they are looking at you right now, best believe you have to hold onto your strength like it's a small purse.

'Youngsters', he said— 'they bite', he said.

They have been rarely reacting to the chairman’s words, notwithstanding being the ones to be the most respectful in this meeting for their young age, just looking at each other with unamused eyes. Even the director who is older than the chairman lets out his best holler every time, but these two have not laughed once at his jokes, not the slightest chuckle has left their mouths to flatter or satisfy the chairman.

Interesting.

Both black-haired, the one you get to first has his mane gelled back, a cigarette hanging out his scarred mouth, as you approach his seat with your cart walking carefully practiced steps. His white shirt is opened up to where chains, most importantly a silver cross, hang from his collarbones to his chest that’s covered with scars and scratches you can’t quite identify how they got there. This man looks gigantic, muscular, dangerous. Shoulders terrifyingly broad popping out his black vest, he sits on his seat with widened legs, thighs flattened in his also black pants, fastened by a leather belt, and with his white sleeves pulled back to his elbows, his slightly tanned forearms only appear more huge after the rather average-looking wristwatch catches your eye, just when you stop with your cart in front of him.

“That old geezer just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”, he chuckles, the Gyeongsang-provincial dialect rolling so naturally off his tongue. Everyone else in the room has been faking their speech to cosplay a charm they didn’t possess, but even the slight lisp and lull from the drunkenness are not hiding how deeply masculine and sincere this man’s voice sounds. It’s a mixture of the sarcasm you've gotten used to by now, but also a brashness that the older men lack, and you’re a bit embarrassed to say it’s working you up a bit. "Empty carts rattle loudest, I say."

A wintry breeze goes through your breast and you feel your eyebrows flinch. You haven't heard that grandmotherly expression in so long, that it does feel somehow refreshing to reconcile with it, but maybe the whisk you sense shouldn’t feel as comforting given the way the man is looking up to you brazenly with a bit of atrocity in his appearance. He is far away from the serene sketch you drew to save the vision as you left the village, he is what you felt when you took your first train, asphyxiated by the big masses of people who you would never see again— an unhomely, yet intimate feeling of... adventure.

He glances through you smoking his cigarette with no hands attached, and it moves at the corner of his lip as he talks. Wait, cigarette? Missy, did you forget to bring him a cigar?

"Let's see when he runs out of words."

“It’s alright, sir,” you answer, suppressing a slight chuckle because yes, you too have been wishing the chairman would finally shut the fuck up, but haven't expected anyone to say it out loud that boldly. You watch the male in front of you take out the slim roll from his mouth with his thick fingers that are covered with silver rings that all look different and not matching each other, blowing out the smoke whilst maintaining eye contact with you. “If you require, I can bring you a cigar, sir," you say, but he waves his hand to brush off your offer.

“Ah, they give me bad breath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please," the man progresses instantaneously, scratching over the vertical scar at his lip-corner with his thumb, his ciggy continues to burn, "Do be so kind and give brother his ice," then smiles, "he needs to preserve his cold head.”

“You are one to talk about keeping mouths shut,” the ‘brother’ answers, voice velvety and adequate despite dissing the man that’s sunken unmannerly into his seat, while he, on the other hand, is sitting up straight, his black suit buttoned up, tie set cleanly under his ironed pearl-white collars, elegantly decorated by a golden pin. A Greek "π" is chiseled into it, and you recognize it so well for you’ve seen it written all over the tall buildings you drove by on your way here. His hair is combed evenly to the sides and the more you look at him, he’s just— wow, flawless, prestigious, expensive. Everything about him is crystal clear; his rich voice, his unblemished skin, his eyes, oh god, you just noticed those eyes, how does such a shameful man have such pure eyes?

Orbs— and they're not innocent as much as you can't say they're not guilty— are looking at you with a defiance that is suffocating, as if you ought to do everything perfectly, not miss a single twitch of his eyebrows to understand whether he's enjoying or disapproving of the situation.

Well, is he enjoying you or disapproving of the way you're listening to his partner's order to refill his ice?

Huh. No fucking idea. He probably doesn't, but you must do it still— must still serve.

It feels irrationally sheep-headed, but hey, being a sheep is your job, is it not? Being in this herd is keeping you alive, and even in this situation, where you are following the orders of the blackest of sheep, no, wolves that can't be covered by any fluffy wool— you must mow your best.

"Ohh, brother, it's been a while since I heard you talk! Feels lonely droppin' all the good sayings by myself."

You’re serving Choi San and CEO of PARA-conglomerate, headman Park Seonghwa.

Sat right across the chairman, the percentage this couple holds of his company-share is more than most of the attending seniors combined, which makes them stand at the top of the guest-list. You couldn’t have missed their names, even if you’ve made the attempt to, and the other information you’re getting is just your co-workers whispering hurried words to each other, and it seems to you that you may be more in need of them than ever.

You already eavesdropped on them a little, and to be honest, you didn’t need any real confirmation that everyone in this room was unlawful and corrupt, but it is good to know you really don’t have to feel guilty stashing those bankrolls into your purse.

The man that is licking the tail of his scar at his lip, rolling his neck, clicking with his mouth and tapping his fingers onto the table, he is rumored to be the boss of the Choi-Clan, the infamous ‘Mad Dog of Namhae’, whose face had been unknown. The chairman has made a drunken joke about allegedly trying to sell him off to the government— “everybody act like you don’t know, okay?”— and nobody had taken him seriously, but once the supposed mafiaboss had entered the room, an hour later than everyone else, and sat down comfortably like nothing was strange about his heavy breath and slightly purple knuckles, nobody dared to say something else.

If you’d heard beforehand that you would be meeting a CEO and a mafiaboss today, you don’t know if you would have acted any differently. Thinking, here comes the chairman, his jesters, the mafia-guy, the chaebol; ah, all the motherfuckers aligned, let’s get to work, shall we?

But this does challenge you a bit, indeed. If they just weren’t so young and intimidatingly good-looking, fuck, you could have treated them in the same cookie-cutter way you’d been at perfectly.

Maybe a bit of change-up won’t hurt, you were starting to get a bit too irritated anyway.

"Control yourself."

“You wanna see him dead too, brother,” the smoking male sneers— you’ll call him ‘Mr. Choi’ for now— pointing at his companion to accuse him of being a yawner, his cigarette stuck between his fingers.

Headman Park smirks with a short twitch of his lips that makes you think you just imagined it, but none of his extremities has moved since you came here: Every single action he takes seems so... calculated, thought through, measured, planned out. He is the only one to have brought a briefcase to the dinner, and looks a little bit out of place with his sober expressions which seem to you as if he was observing the whole room in its possible entirety, not leaving out a corner in his sight uncovered.

"Want," he parrots, face dropped to a neutral visage, highlighting the only word that seems to be bothering the CEO regarding his vis-à-vis' statement, eyes darting down to Mr. Choi having his fingertips pointed towards him.

"Don't you become pushy with the words now, brother," the mafiaboss teases him, and tugs his sleeves up to his elbows again, eyeing you up and down while you're passing him with your cart. You discern his interest in the pockets of your skirt, or what is there underneath, instantly, but before you can think that the man may be just the same as the others, he cracks his knuckles. “Old geezer might die on his own at this point, look at how he's smoking his raisin-lungs away."

"Poetic."

So much for hearing government and company secrets, here are these two joking about the chairman’s death. You need the chairman a little bit longer if you want to earn money, but the idea of him dying soon isn’t too bothersome.

"You gotta get used to my Korean way of speaking, brother! Then we can communicate correctly!”

With your ears sharpened, but your face presenting unconcerned, you devote yourself to headman Park to refill his bucket, ice cubes jangling down the iron jar, whilst Mr. Choi stretches his arms behind his head, raising an eyebrow towards his elder who isn't hearing him out.

“Thank you,” headman Park says, very briefly and precisely. The tong you put in the bucket for him to use almost tips, and you don’t know whether he does it on purpose for he’s been frozen still all during the dinner, but with his reflexes, he prevents it from falling before you can, but if that wasn't surprising enough, he grazes your skin while returning.

Soft, uncalloused; not a single ounce of labor roughed up these hands, it seems. They tickled you featherly, and right now, you are looking for some type of confirmation in those black spheres of his to know that you're allowed to exhale and react to his touch, because you gasped slightly and have held your breath ever since.

Nothing. You are the first one to look— no, shy away from his stare, getting your hands in front of your abdomen again, your fingers searching for each other, fiddling around by themselves without your knowledge.

Mr. Choi lets his wrist-watched hand fall between his lap, neck tilted slightly to the back, licking over his canine tooth with a grin, and it appears to you that he's either noticed his associate's small gesture or how headman Park is still staring at you. “You wanna do something, don’t you, brother?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Mr. Choi shakes his head to irritate headman Park and make him explain himself.

“This is not business.”

Headman Park glances down his whiskey, droplets of water have formed around the brim of the cold glass. It is untouched.

"I see you aren’t enjoying the whiskey, would you like something else to drink, sir?", you ask, trying to finish your job and get away from here before you get ideas that don’t include money between your thighs.

"The Fillico, please," the male answers, not having glanced away from your eyes once to inspect your cart, where the black, long bottle, donning a crown and wings adorned with Swarovski-crystals, awaits you to be grabbed.

"A glass of cold Fillico Black King!", you exclaim, your surprise of the particularity that anyone would drink water at the chairman's dinner can’t be hidden, and then hum, "Coming right up, sir."

“You’re really something, brother,” Mr. Choi wheezes, taking the last pull of his cigarette, watching you fill up a new glass for his unrelated brother with the finest mineral that can be bought to-date, pricing around 6 Billion Won, or 4500 US Dollars per bottle. “Wouldn’t you say it’s difficult to not be smokin’ or drinkin’ in this business, Y/N?”

Sure, whatever ‘business’ a man like him is talking about. “Yes, sir." Wait, hold on, did Mr. Choi just say your name?

“You don’t look too impressed,” the male grins, seeing how you’ve narrowed your eyes in confusion.

"Pardon me, I was just– how do you know my name, sir?”

Mr. Choi shrugs as if to say ‘I dunno’ and presses his cigarette out on the table. It sizzles out, like your head is also slowly deteriorating. He throws the bud into the CEO's ice-bucket— headman Park is not even minorly irritated by it— and then, with his ringed fingers, goes through his hair, setting it loose behind his head. He’s picking on you, and you surely feel picked out, that's all you can think. It's so unusual to be hearing your name, not because it hasn't been said during the dinner, but because—

"Y/N Y/L/N, a pretty name for a pretty servant like you, huh?"

Your heart somehow flutters. A stalwart man like him taking your name into his mouth is nothing you hear on the daily. Deep, manly. It's not flattering, no, it sounds wrong, feels so dangerous for a guy like him to be taking something so personal and turning it into his possession, like you're slowly going to lose yourself in the words he speaks in a lax manner. Your name is precious to you, and it just drops off his tongue like it's candy. Where on earth does a man like him get your full name from?

"Sir," you insist, dipping your fingertip under your fingernail, fidgeting.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya prefer that stupid name ‘missy’,” Mr. Choi chuckles and fetches headman Park’s full glass of whiskey, his dialect draping out his mouth.

“Or do you secretly enjoy it," he grins, and with his eyebrows raised, Mr. Choi drinks up his acquaintance's booze in one big gulp, letting the glass fall down on the table with a thump, breathing out, "missy?”

People drink whiskey neatly, you know that. The guests have been doing it all evening, but that's for two ounces. Headman Park had a glass full of the oak-colored sherry liquid with an uncommonly high alcohol percentage placed in front of him. A taunt from the chairman maybe, to subtly scorn them about their apparent boyhoodish inexperience, but Mr. Choi makes it look so adept: The strong alcohol flows down his throat smooth and speedy, even though he did misplace the rim by an inch.

There's whiskey dripping down his chin as he glances over to his side, smirking at his neighbor who's blinking frozen, as well as the other guests, who are seemingly just as irritated that the mafiaboss got you as flustered as you look like.

You’re left with your mouth slightly open, shotting down a glass of whiskey shouldn't have looked as barbarous as Mr. Choi made it appear. Like a striking attack, baring his claws, he growls out the herby aftertaste. "'Scuse me, 'got really thirsty there."

The mafiaboss goes over his lips with his tongue, watching your hand play with the seam of your skirt, where he knows a handkerchief is buried in your pocket.

“Aw, shit, I got wet,” he wails over-dramatically, looking down on himself and then again locking his eyes into yours.

“Wanna clean me up, baby?”

“Pardon?”

Much to your continued bafflement, Mr. Choi smiles, and as he sees you taking a second to confirm what he said, he continues talking to you like you’re a hooker.

“Don't like that one, Y/N?” Again, with the name! Where does he get the name?!

“Sir, how—“

“You have introduced yourself to us,” headman Park finally reveals in the high Seoul tongue, perchance by pity, and you inhale, a bit embarrassed that you didn’t come to think of it earlier. What is happening to you? Is it because you’re finally away from those sleazes, that you’re being so light-headed? Lack of training? Sexual attraction? God, that’s a rookie’s mistake, Y/N, think about them as targets, not objectives. The objective is to not end up in a bed with them, remember? That’s like, rule number one. Even though nobody told you about the Mafia while you were at training, that’s a valid argument.

Don't let your guard down, you’re in a room with the men of men, no maybe the men. The most influential men you could be meeting in Seoul right now, aside from how little is known about them.

Whether he's a real chaebol or not, PARA-CEO Park Seonghwa is definitely the nephew of good ol’ chairman over there, just leeching off his money even if today is the first time the man is visiting his distant uncle who is definitely a bit sour about the fact he took so long to connect with him. Money has its sources and sometimes, most of the time, it’s nepotism. There you go, the explanation of his wealth and why the male is so well-mannered sitting on his seat. He’s woven into the conglomerate-family, been made CEO to keep him that way and all in all, you could care less about him, if he just wasn’t the only person that was kind of nice to you. Just thinking about his eyes makes you a bit dizzy, but you can get that fixed by turning your eyes to the mafiaboss.

Mafia and chaebol don't usually associate, for reasons that are rather obvious. Mafia’s rule the underworld with the overworld’s laws, and the chaebol rule over what laws the overworld decides on, digging their hands into the government like it’s soot, planting and pulling crops wherever they can profit from it. Money.

It’s sickening every time you think about it. How many people in this room could pay for your whole life? No, how many can’t pay for your whole life and beyond? You can count them with one hand and they’re all wearing the same clothes as you.

Money knows where it belongs; that’s a phrase you made up the day you were told about the crippling debt by the letter and the bank declining your card. It sounds similar to your monks' sayings of water's ever-flowing life, but if water returns, money drifts. It wanders across the citizens, but follows a direction it's always bound to end up. Just like today, with you getting bankrolls to graze the inner space of your legs, only to know it’s going to end up in the same fingers that gave it to you.

So, where do headman Park and Mr. Choi get a say in this? Do they get a say in this?

“I did introduce myself, how could I forget? I’m sorry, sir,” you admit and let out a laugh that is half intended to sound as nervous as it did, and half regrettably filled with authentic uneasiness.

Old chairman, what does he know? Have those teeth really ever sunk into flesh? You can’t play with your fate here, but by hook or crook they intrigue you so much. You haven’t expected guests that aren't ass-kissers of the chairman, and apparently your talent only goes so far. You have no idea what to do with them to satisfy them except letting out your real thoughts and you can’t do that, definitely not in front of the man.

But you feel so connected to them. The caution everyone has, it confuses you just as much you're amazed by it, and you want that, you want that kind of safety. Every guest here has money, but not every guest has their authority.

“It’s alright, everybody makes mistakes, baby,” Mr. Choi smirks and musters you again, rubbing the liquid away from the corner of his lip with his thumb and kissing the remaining alcohol away, savoring every droplet of whiskey, but also savoring you by keeping his thumb leaned into his opened mouth, eyes looking sultrily at you, you might as well just—

“Mistakes, San. Beware of them,” headman Park falls in and his companion finally sways his eyes away from you, hand backing down. “Talkative drunkard.“

“Brother,” Mr. Choi sighs and grabs the glass from his neighbor that's filled with ice cubes to murmur, “I’m not that drunk," swinging it around with concise flicks of his wrist to enunciate his words.

With the couple bantering, you think you can calm down. Maybe you were overreacting. Bootlicking some birdbrains is a way easier life than to follow these two.

"Hey, baby?”, but there's another call of the bird of prey.

“Yes, sir?”, you answer, fingers letting go of your skirt that has thrashed your skin by how you abused it. You don’t even know when you started to react to the name 'baby', but truth be told it’s better than ‘missy’ by miles. Being over here is better than being over there by miles, that is unchangeable.

“Could you get me clean? This is kinda sticky."

With two fingers, he grabs the collar of his shirt and flails it softly, ice clinking in his glass, as he shows you his indeed quite syrupy breast.

"Yes, sir."

You nod towards the crevice that is the space where his muscles meet, and before your eyes can get lost in the plump thews, you collect yourself so you can do what you were asked for; getting your hands on his body.

“Please.”

“Ahh, I liked you more when you were quiet, brother! I don’t wanna call you a party-pooper, but c'mon! It’s your plan, and I’m just— doin’ my part.”

Mr. Choi twists his upper body a bit so he’s still able to hold the empty glass behind your back, though it feels more caging in than it should, when you lean forwards to softly tap his skin with your handkerchief. His arm hovers next to your hip and his upper body is extended wide around you.

“What do you say, baby?”, the male asks, and you harrumph to take your mind elsewhere from how rock-hard the mafiaboss feels under your hand, how his cologne smells so rich and inviting, and how— “Wanna be bitten?”

“Pardon?”, you ask, not understanding the context of Mr. Choi’s question, but without fail grasping the intentions of it.

The male grins, and you’re unsure as to how he got his hand on the bottle of whiskey from your tray as quickly as he did, but it’s there, in the hand that’s across your hip, and from then on, everything you do seems risky. His bicep is curled around your thigh so he can fill himself another glass, and if you take a step back, your ass will be pushed against his arm, but if you step forward, you’ll land on top of him; a straining dilemma that only inflames your guts the more you think about it.

“San,” headman Park grumbles quietly, seeing you struggle to stand on your feet.

“Agh, come on, brother, 's all going well! Live a little for me, will ya? Watch me and follow,” Mr. Choi nags with a juvenile pout and takes a disgruntled sip from his drink, making your imaginations reality by pushing you with his forearm with no forewarning. You trip closer to him and his arms raise, as you have to find safety on his shoulders to not fall into his crotch.

“Oops, ‘scuse me, baby,” he grins, feline eyes glancing up to you, your bust in his view. The other men are grumbling, fussy, yammering— if they knew, they would have done that with you a long time ago!— and in your head, you don't know whether you should be doing this at the chairman's dinner and not somewhere in a stripclub or just, god, anywhere else.

“It’s okay, sir,” is what you answer, and the short silence would be the perfect opportunity to scuffle back to your original stance, but you saw his ever-growing, throbbing bulge in his black suit-pants and it is staring you down.

Everything about him is so big…

“Really, baby?”, Mr. Choi asks, eyebrows pushed together, lips formed into a pout, feigning an expression of worry.

“Yes, sir,” you say, the big question of 'what is the goal here?' unnerving you, but with the quick, harsh movement of his leg against the back of your knee, you're—

“Sir!”

Sat on his thigh, your butt is bouncing on the hard flesh, fingers dug into his shoulders deeper due to the shock, ribcage moving up and down as you’re breathing fast and anxiously. At this point, you’ve gathered the attention of many who are seemingly more excited about the situation than you are, silencing all around, while the chairman continues to crack drunk jokes on the other side.

Mr. Choi chuckles at your nervousness and puts his glass down. “Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos, his rough, calloused fingers trailing between the inner space of your thighs that’s pushed into his leg. “Need a little break?”

As you sit there— securing yourself on the table, feeling his hand sit between your legs, you become lighter with each passing second, tingles being sent down your abdomen. Could Mr. Choi please stop smirking like that? It’s going to make you lose your mind, lose every thought of what you were trying to achieve at this table tonight.

“The chairman doesn’t allow breaks, sir,” you murmur, trying to cling onto the last sense of service you have, “I have to stay here.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper for the CEO in front of you to become curious, but loud enough for the mafiaboss to scoff and massage his hand deeper into your flesh.

“Sir, I really—“, you try to protest, but Mr. Choi uses his other finger to signal you to come closer to his face. You do as you’re told, his warm breath hitting your ear after you lean backwards.

“Baby,” he cackles, and his lips touch your earlobe, the smell of the smoke fading out his mouth.

“I practically own that wimp,” and Mr. Choi lets out a chuckle before his voice lowers an octave, “Let me own you, too.”

His tongue grazes over your sensitive skin as if he was a snake trying to convince you of eating the strange fruit, and you shudder forwards in surprise, his growl still vibrating in your ears.

You should get yourself together— yeah, that sounds like a good idea, if it just wasn't for the fact that this is exactly how you've been presenting yourself the whole evening. You're cornered, and not only by him, but your actions and it's, oh, old man, it's something. It's something that broadens the playground that was set out in front of you, something that gives you more to play, no, more to be played with.

The other guests are gawking already, forgetting about their prejudices when it comes to the 'youngsters', just happy to be seeing their missy in action.

The mafiaboss sighs, breaking his whispering and speaking louder than before. “But if you cherish so much about that old geezer, he’ll be taken care of, no? Maybe even better than before, or am I wrong here, brother?”

He clicks with his mouth— is it a habit?— and looks at headman Park, who rolls his eyes, as if they’re sharing some secret you’re not a part of. But before you can fall into further confusion, your legs tighten around Mr. Choi’s wristwatch, as his thumb strokes the surface under your skirt one time, right across your cunt which has been heating up since the first time you saw the reflection of yourself in his silver cross. A pant leaves your mouth and you have to grind your ass over so you can somehow clench your legs together.

“You like that?”, Mr. Choi sneers, chuckling into your ear, as he continues to move his thick finger against your clit. "Of course you do. Let me hear more of those cute sounds, baby.”

You grab his bicep, heat crawling up your abdomen against his forearm, your crotch feeling more and more buzzed as the male works his fingertip into you. Nobody says anything, just murmuring insignificant sentences to keep up the chatty mood.

Headman Park in the meanwhile, crosses his arms, catching the attention of the mafiaboss.

“Brother, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? Enjoy yourself.”

Mr. Choi flashes an eye-smile and keeps groping your cunt, you melting more and more into his lap and under the heated gazes of the crowd. Your servant-colleagues don’t know what to do, or no, maybe they knew exactly that this would happen and think you deserve all of this shame, just in general not helping you escape the touch of the mafiaboss.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying her more than anything,” headman Park says, looking indifferent, but his words don’t cross out the possibility that inside his pants, his cock isn’t growing too, how his arms are crossed, clenched around each other.

“Come on, baby,” Mr. Choi growls into your ear, “give that fucking bore a show, won’t you?”

You’re split open. He’s strong, oh gosh, so strong, taking not more than one push to grab you by your thigh and spread your legs, make you slip on his crotch, as he closes his knees together to support you from down under.

“San,” headman Park warns, but his mouth stays slightly open, tongue pressed against the surface of his upper teeth, suppressing a grin.

You flatten your back against Mr. Choi’s torso as an attempt to hide your face behind his neck, and breathe heavily against his freckled skin, the cold exterior of his pearly accessory grazes your chin.

“What?”, the male asks, taking his glass, his arm slithering under your armpit and his chin resting on your shoulder as he sips from it, not to forget the hand that is still pushed into the now moist fabric between your legs, moving in circular motion.

Headman Park doesn’t answer and folds his hands together, placing his elbows on the table, fingers touching his lower lip.

“Geez, brother, you should feel this cunt right now,” the mafiaboss wheezes, almost hiccuping from his excitement, “so fucking hot, you won’t believe.”

“Make her louder.”

Even Mr. Choi was surprised to hear that come out of the reserved CEO's mouth, and as he chuckles and takes the last sip from his whiskey, he puts down his glass once in for all to accept headman Park’s order.

With a slight lean forward, his free hand wraps around your neck and you gasp for air. Mr. Choi’s legs are spread so when you have to tuck in your pelvis, you can feel his bulge under your cunt. At this point, you don’t care for the piercing gazes anymore, and the chairman might as well give you a nice tip for the sight of you grinding your wet pussy into his biggest investor’s clothed cock. You’re such a master profiteer, Y/N, Jongho was right.

“Fuck, missy,” Mr. Choi grunts and he’s so frustrated he can’t take off more of your clothes, but it doesn’t prevent him from following the order when headman Park mutters, “grab her breasts.”

It is one shameless show.

You becoming needy and whiny on Choi San’s lap, the mafiaboss grinning, as CEO Park Seonghwa’s eyes are unmoving from your sullen, aroused expressions— it has persuaded the audience to want their own slice of fun, but even with hands wrapped around their no-use cocks, everybody in the room has their eyes sealed on the young servant whose only job was to refill some ice.

Mr. Choi can feel it; what a slut you are on top of him, how eagerly you’re grinding your cunt over his bulge, and how jealous the others are watching— and this includes all the blokes that are watching with cigars in their mouths, but also the servants that would have gladly taken your seat and not rub their hands over old, moist, wrinkly skin.

“Sir,” you whimper, as Mr. Choi knobs your breasts, his tough hands cupping each tit, just like headman Park commanded him.

Fuck, how he wishes to be able to see your face as well as well as headman Park does, but the sobby whines might as well do.

“So noisy on my cock,” Mr. Choi snarls, “you’re practically begging for attention, missy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you hiss and the mafiaboss inhales sharply, gasping, his cock jumping, very turned on by your sudden spunky tone. Bingo.

“Did you hear that, brother?”, he whales, tempting the headman to interact with him more as the main viewer of his performance, but the man to his friend is only raising an eyebrow. “Baby's got some zest in her. You like that, don’t you?”

Mr. Choi continues to coo headman Park into defeat, “You like ‘em feisty, brother. I know you, chief execution officer, sir. You wanna ram your cock into this little missy's pretty mouth, just admit it.”

Little missy's pretty mouth. "Say that again, shitbag," you hiss, but Mr. Choi grins and pries into your bust, working folds into your freshly-ironed shirt. "Listen, brother," he breathes, "It gets your cock fucking going, doesn't it?"

The mafiaboss chuckles and adds, so only you can hear it, "Definitely gets my cock going, baby."

Headman Park scans the room, and you can see how he shakes his head, and looks at Mr. Choi with a slight distaste. “You may leave soon.”

“Really?”, Mr. Choi grins, beaming, grabbing your hips forcefully in the joy of it, and while the CEO’s words leave you misled, you sigh into the pressure of being pressed down deep into his muscled thigh, your cunt pulsating through his flesh.

“Change of plans.”

“Alright," he murmurs, just as offended as you are by his lack of reactions, but quickly catching up on his lust to hear, see, feel you more. "But not before I make this baby come."

“Punster,” headman Park jeers and it does occur to you that you’re hearing more of his soft voice than before, but when he looks at his wristwatch, you suppose you’re not doing well enough for him. Look at me, you rich-ass prude, you think and whine, being moved across Mr. Choi’s thigh by his own hands. Your clit feels hot, like it is seriously going to burn and fall off, but you, fuck, feel so good; the sounds just keep leaving your mouth, your high approaching very soon.

“How long were you thinking, brother?”, Mr. Choi asks and is nibbling at your neck, as he rams you over his thigh, fighting with the pace you're breathing wispy and digging your nails more and more into the glass-table until your fingertips turn white.

"Five.”

“Five? Make it ten.”

“You only last ten?”

“You can be such a bully, brother,” Mr. Choi fleers, and you have no fucking idea what they’re talking about, since you are feeling your orgasm coming in less than a minute, stars appearing in front of your eyes. “Make it ten.”

The male takes note of how you're bucking in your pelvis and uses his canine teeth to make your neck flame on, his hand placed roughly around your throat, as you become more sensitive to every move. "Sir," you whisper, a knot forming in your stomach.

Your clit is begging you for mercy at this point, demanding you to get the clothes off your legs so your slick has some way to escape, but you're drenching Mr. Choi's suit-pants in your wetness with stuttered heaving, ready to moan loudly in any second now if you could just find that one fucking spot—

"Are you gonna cum, baby? Right in front of everyone?", he murmurs against your neck and you nod repeatedly, raving your clothed clit on his thick, pillowy muscle, desperately chasing your high. "Come on," he snickers, "Show them what kind of slut missy is, huh? Such a good fucking slut for us, aren't you?"

"Yesyesyes," you whine, not caring for anything than your release, and Mr. Choi is being so kind as to continue breathing heavily into your ear to make you melt into bliss, but nothing gets you on more than the gentle smile that headman Park is sending your way, head slightly tilted to the back— is he nodding? Is he finally approving? Oh, fuck, you think, and you're doing the best job darting your hips non-stop to continue feeling your cunt be stroked by Mr. Choi's flesh, pursuing the CEO's praising acknowledgment. "Good fucking slut on my lap," the mafiaboss cackles, "come for daddy."

"You fucking weirdo," you falter, not wanting to call him "I'm never gonna call you—

Mmmuh!" Mr. Choi grabs you by your hair and tugs it harshly, making your back arch and your head rotate to his side. In the open mouth, his tongue plunges into your throat, the taste of woody herbs and bitter alcohol are flooding your tastebuds. Smearing all of your lipstick, his mouth is pressed against yours like he's sealing yours shut. You convulse your lower body in surprise of the sudden act and holy shit, get that one spot over your clit that's also stroking your gaping entrance, your body releasing all of its heat into one blaring, roaring zap, with your eyes rolling back your head, your stirred voice screaming, "FUCK!"

There is a gasp heard through the dining hall and you're not sure whether it was the chairman, a servant, or headman Park in front of you, but as you are spasming on Mr. Choi's thigh and your back arches to his chest, you feel like the world is expanding on you, peeping, intrusive onlookers cramming out their money to thank you for the show they got, white trickling through the linen of their underwear.

Coming down from your high, weakened and all the while more aroused by the mafiaboss whispering the words "good girl" into your ear, you try to open your eyelids to catch headman Park putting on some black leather-gloves he got from his briefcase, muttering something under his breath to the mafiaboss.

“Go."

What the fuck?

Mr. Choi hooks his arm under your legs while he re-applies his lips to yours, and lifts you up like the pretty princess you are to most of the gawkers that don't stop watching, when he stands up.

Everybody has their eyes on the kiss the mafiaboss and servant missy are sharing, but headman Park doesn’t even look at you, when his partner starts carrying you to the elevator that's waiting for you at the wall about in the middle of the dining table, and just retrieves his open briefcase from the floor. Has he had enough of you already?

“Where are we—“, you breathe, but Mr. Choi kisses you silent, tongue forcing its entry, preventing you from figuring out what's happening, after the mafiaboss puts you down in front of the door and pushes you against the frame roughly. Cheering and hooting encourages him to continue rubbing his thumb over your skin as the other ringed fingers are holding your thigh, and you're pressed against his leg, virtually fenced in by Mr. Choi while he pushes the button for the lift to come.

His eyes are squinting to the side while he works his lips against you, in a way confirming that all of the guests (except the CEO) are begrudgingly anticipating the next actions of the mafiaboss, not caring how the headman is slowly pushing his seat away from the table to get more leg-space, which you seem to be the only person noticing it.

The golden door opens with a bell dinging the elevator’s arrival, and Mr. Choi grabs you by your ass, leading the way inside it. You can't see it correctly with your eyes closed, can only feel his big arms push into your frame, but he even makes for a show-like exit, burlesquely saluting the audience with two fingers, clicking with his mouth. It must really be a habit, you think, and giggle into the kiss.

The men attempt to throw bankrolls into your space and some succeed, some don't, but while you're glad your plan worked out, you aren't too sure what you've just done with, or for the mafiaboss.

Your heated kiss continues and because you want to feel him, you unbutton his shirt that doesn’t need that much working, three buttons being pushed open by your jellylike hands. Before you can unclothe him though, Mr. Choi pushes his arm against the mirror next to your head, stopping you to take a look at his wristwatch. He strokes his hair to the back with the other hand, revealing some of his meaty abs, and once he’s reached the backside of his head, he slides his fingers down his neck and around his Adam's apple to scratch it, announcing, “Ten minutes on the clock. Shit, brother's dick must be fucking exploding in his pants right now."

“Sir?”, you ask, overwhelmed by the words that are not making sense in your head, but also distracted by his hand that’s around your tie.

“Given he really could've finished in five but,” he yanks you towards his face. “I wanted to have you a bit more for myself, missy.”

He smiles, very arrogantly like the patronizing fuck he is, like he knows how strong he is, what a dominating aura he possesses, but at this point, in between the mirrors and on this black, marbled floor, you are not at the chairman’s dinner anymore, aren��t a servant anymore– you aren’t bound to any authority, are you?

“If you fucking call me ‘missy’ again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

Except for the moment that you’re talking to him, a mafiaboss, whose breast is marked by— and you can see it very clearly now for it fits perfectly into yours— hands that have shared the same, if not a similar experience with you.

“How’d you know I was into biting, baby?”

And holy fuck, his back looks even crazier.

“God, sir,” you breathe out in awe and a little bit of fear. You can count the lines of red scratches on his back and as you finally let his shirt fall from his shoulders, the reflection of his muscles, how they relax under your touch. You become starstruck. Everything about him is so scarring, but fuck, how it attracts you, the wildness, the savagery— there’s something so free about him.

"What, baby? You like what you're seeing? How naughty..."

Ten minutes aren’t a lot, but Mr. Choi makes his best attempt to hurry over the trivial parts of fucking you. He steps closer, your ass hitting the handrail, legs crossing together, and your buttons pop in one rip, as his two hands rupture your blouse open. He lets his shirt drop to the floor, all the while his lips clash against the nook of your neck, making you sigh under the luminous lights of the elevator and grab his neck. You’re getting hazy, horny; damn, it’s been so long you’ve had a good fuck. Satisfactory sex is another luxury you were postponing for later.

With his lips sewn on your shoulder, kissing and forcing his tongue against a spot he deems especially tasty, the half-naked male unzips your skirt to finally reveal the black pantyhose that looks soaked in your slick. After he chuckles at the sight of it, Mr. Choi licks over his lips and cups your jaw with his hand, drawing a trail of insatiable kisses across your skin.

“Still wanna bite my dick off?”, he asks with a sly smirk, breathy, having caught your aroused look locked on his silver chains, his jacked upper body inviting you to get your mouth in there until it’s molded around your teeth.

“Come on, baby,” the male provokes you, “You think I’m gonna fuck you just like this? Think I’m gonna ram myself inside your cute fucking cunt ‘cause I’m such a big scary fucking man?”

You inhale sharply. “N- no, I…”, you breathe out, letting your tongue run over your teeth.

“Aw, baby, am I making you shy?”, Mr. Choi hoots, “I didn’t think you were a shy one. You were pretty noisy on my thigh for your cunt, weren’t you? Getting all the sounds out for brother to hear them… You really served a show there, baby.”

Your mouth only lets out stammered gibberish– you have never learnt how to talk dirty, but Mr. Choi uses your opened lips to ram his tongue into it again anyway, and you're almost proud to say you've gotten used to it.

He breathes rashly through his nose, and he tastes less of bourbon but more of dulcet desire, mixed in with the red of your lipstick sitting on his lip. Your knee strokes his erection while he gets his hands behind your back to get your bra off, lips clashing and raving against each other. “Letting your body talk for you?”, Mr. Choi husks, panting at having his overstrained cock touched. He relieves you from the pressure around the bust and continues to ramble. "I knew I could have a lot of fun with you the second I laid my eyes on you.” You pant and reunite your lips with his. "Little missy, such a whore for the rich."

He’s overconfident he’s seeing right through you, it infuriates you. Mr. Choi massages his hands into your breasts, the cold rings grazing sharply into your warm flesh, and as your knee is still between his crotch, you huff. You can be a whore for the rich when you’re earning money, but right now, you’re doing things for your own pleasure.

“Are you going to have a lot of fun with me?”, you sing-song in a high-pitched female voice to the mafiaboss that’s immediately taken aback, and you know the word 'missy' is on top of his tongue again, when you interrupt him with a quick jab of your knee into his groin. "Shit-eating fat-cat."

Mr. Choi grunts, head tilting down. His feline eyes meet your foxy ones, and while you weren't preparing for a staredown, the mafiaboss smirks and bites his lip.

He has a lot to say, you can see it. There’s something glimmering under the lust-drunken layer behind his eyes, and it’s deep, goes deeper, but for some reason, the mafiaboss, who just so despicably couldn’t hold his mouth, doesn’t let out the words that’s crossing his mind.

“Sir–”

Wrong deduction.

Mr. Choi scowls in laughter, and you guess he meant to joke with you, but he means to play with you much more, when he, once again, lifts you up, by your waist this time, and balances you on the handrail.

Resting his forearm on your thighs to stabilize you, Mr. Choi digs in his pocket to fetch his cigarette box, looking at himself through the mirror and shaking some strands out of his face. "Shit-eating fat-cat," he repeats with a lisp, pulling out one of the slim rolls with the corner of his mouth, and he continues to chuckle, as he glances at you through his eyelashes, "you should've said that to the old geezer when you had the chance to, baby."

"The chairman?"

No answer. Mr. Choi lights his cigarette with a zippo, and keeps it lit in his mouth, as he, with no forewarning, tears open your pantyhose from your crotch with both of his hands, spreading your legs wide. You have to get your hands around his head to be able to keep yourself on the handrail.

“Why do you look so scared? Think I’m gonna fuck you?”, he lisps. “I’m just taking a good look, baby. What a pretty cunt you got there, baby.”

You gulp. Mr. Choi slides his index finger across your heated folds through the fabric and your cunt clenches together, wanting to be filled up. “Sir,” you sigh, and the mafiaboss pulls in smoke from his cig, raising an eyebrow.

“What, baby? ‘You need something?”, he asks, “You’re not a fucking servant anymore, or do you need to be ordered around, missy?”

You try to look angry, but Mr. Choi only pouts and presses his finger through your panties, soaking them in your slick that’s gathered at your entrance. “Desperate to please the money-man? So wet for him…”

“Fuck you,” you mewl, but Mr. Choi knows what he’s doing when he thumbs your clit and exhales smoke into your face, hiding his face for a short second which gives you confidence. “I need you… to fuck me.”

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear.”

“Please, sir, just… fuck me, please…”

“Louder.”

“God! Just fuck me! Didn’t you say we have ten minutes? Make them fucking count!”

“There we go, baby. My slutty little missy. Oh, baby, you’re growing on me, brother’s gonna hate that.”

You huff and Mr. Choi slides your panties off your legs, taking a short glimpse at his wristwatch. “Damn, ten’s really a short time.”

How many minutes have passed? Ten already? You know you said it, but you mentioned it only because it made sense, if you’re honest, you have no clue what the time is worth for. Aren't these the men who have time for gold?

The biting smell of tobacco enters your nose, making you cough out loud. Is smoking even allowed in the elevator? Wait, wait, wait, no, maybe you should worry about other things, for example what you're going to do when those ten minutes are over, when all of this is over. They clearly have some type of plan and thing they are carrying out right now, but you don’t know how much you’re invited in there.

Mr. Choi finishes his quick break, inhaling one last puff and keeping his cig between his lips again, and his hands unbuckle his belt in silence, while you contemplate.

Clanking, ruttling, and steps begin to thump behind the door— have any of you two even pressed a button? The mafiaboss looks concentrated, fixed on your cunt, taking out his throbbing, panging cock out his underwear, stroking it a few times to god, fuck, finally get to touch it after having been dry-humped hot.

Squelching, huffing, and voices echo through the floor— is that the chairman you hear? You can only yelp, when Mr. Choi drags off your panties and slathering his thick fingers across your folds in one, then penetrating with another forceful movement.

"Fuck!", you hiss out, grabbing the handrail next to your hips, trying to balance yourself on it still. The mafiaboss snickers into your ear, and tours through your cunt, all the while it appears that all hell is breaking loose outside.

BANG!

"Sir, what—!"

"Shhh, baby," Mr. Choi hushes you, and takes out his cig with the fingers that are now glistening with your wetness, placing it on top of his lips vertically to the scar that is accompanying his smug smirk.

BANG!

"You got nothin' to worry 'bout, baby," he lulls, "we're just eatin' the pheasant and the egg here," and exhales smoke into your face out his mouth-hole, which distracts you from the third, fourth—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another proverb, pheasant and the egg— 'two birds with one stone'. Mr. Choi unfolds his hand as if he was counting the minutes, or the shots— wait, yes, shots! Fuck, those are gun-shots, right? You've never heard something so loud ever in your life, where does someone get guns from in South Korea? What even would they need guns for? Why would they use them? What the fuck is happening outside?!

"Oh, fuck!", you moan out, before fear and realization can crawl up your scalp and take away your lusting for the male, Mr. Choi has jerked his hip up, his cock gliding into you smoothly as if your cunt was made for him, the length and girth perfectly curling inside. Your back arches, at least as far as you can arch it, and he grins bemusedly at your jolted reaction.

BANG!

With every blast that follows, Mr. Choi is thrusting into you, first slowly, but then adding more speed and vigor as he goes, or as the blasting goes, making you shakily watch yourself be wrecked by the broad man through the reflection on the other side, your legs dangling with his rough movement.

You don't know how he's fucking you through your tightness, because with each ducking of his hips it feels like your inner walls are expanding more and ungodly more, as if he was piercing you in half.

Small puffs of smoke leave Mr. Choi's mouth each time he pants out raspy "oh baby"s and loud claps of him slapping your ass overtone the screaming, scrambling noises outside, as you two work your lower bodies against and into each other, growing more passionate, throbbing feverishly.

"Fuck, baby," Mr. Choi hisses, cigarette tilting in his mouth, as his face frowns together. "So fucking good for daddy, aren't you? So fucking tight and wet, such a good fucking girl—"

The screams outside are dying down, but the mafiaboss and you are getting louder, breathier, lustier; with your head falling backwards, hitting the mirror, the twisting feeling of fear and the ecstasy to be bouncing on Mr. Choi's big cock mix up like one hellish drink, boiling and churning inside of you.

Smashing both his hands on each of you ass-cheeks to dig his fingers into them and get more stability to ram into you so fast, and oh boy, it's so fucking fast, you're going to spiral— Mr. Choi sputters, "Are you gonna come? Are you going to come for daddy, baby? Greedy baby gonna take daddy's huge fucking load?"

The male is unraveling, his once low, stable voice turning into a whiny, hoarse, cracked mess just like you, practically urging, begging you to finally take the name ‘daddy’ into your mouth.

"Come on baby, say it for me, huh? Feels good to be my slut?", he disentangles, "Be a good slut for daddy, baby."

"I'm not gonna call you— that, fuckhead!", you moan, though your insides are curdling together to finally be released, the knot tightening with each drop of sweat that is forming on your boiling face.

"Really? Think you can afford to misbehave, baby?", Mr. Choi snickers and spits his cig on the floor, your ass being handled at an insane speed, his cock slipping in and out of you with rough ease. He takes it upon himself to dig his teeth into the nook of your neck, biting you heftily, your pulse knocking against your throat, as you feel his cock run in and out of your cunt. Your head goes light and dazed, but before you can gasp out your high from being fucked, bitten, sent to bliss, the male sinks you deep into his cock fully, it does not give you the last thrust you would need to—

"Fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimper, needing to tremble, but unable to move because his hands are restricting you from any movement, and you continue to bring out a string of weak "pleasepleaseplease" that bounces back from the mafiaboss, who is raising an eyebrow, waiting for the magic word to be spoken out of your wet lips. Tears have formed at the corner of your eye and he thumbs it away, grinning coyly.

"Fuck you, I'mnotgonna fucking, ugh—!", you sob, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"Aww, you wanna hate daddy so bad, don’t you?”

“Fuuuck you!” Whines leave your mouth, wanting to cum, wanting to move, wanting for Mr. Choi to continue fucking into you and not wipe away your tears.

“Just say you love me, baby,” he heaves and returns his hand to your hip.

Thrusting into you once with a clap against your groin, to make your cunt clench around him, and then twice with the last blood-curdling BANG! from outside, his cock is deep inside you. He feels you tighten, pulsate, craving to be released, but Mr. Choi will not move again to your liking until you finally let go of yourself, which riles you up with no hope.

"F— Fuuuck, okay!", you scream out, annoyed, angry, wanting to fucking cum; "Daddy!", you sob and Mr. Choi smirks, instantly getting to work to toast the adieu of your pride. Thumb on your clit, he circles around your sensitive bud to double the tension you feel through all of your body, while you gutter, "fuck me, daddy, please, make me cum, please, daddy, please—"

He laughs, no, howls— elated, animated, drunk, and then, with his strong, buff fucking arms, pounds you into his cock like a punching bag, your ass hitting his pelvis so many times until you have to use his gelled hair as a last resort to hold yourself up and not push yourself from the handrail with your head against the mirror, but he holds you, holds you steadily in his grip.

"Good god, good fucking missy, such a good fucking slut for me, cum all over my cock– all over my fucking cock, baby," Mr. Choi grunts, and the string that was keeping you balanced snaps, your orgasm hitting you like that makes your insides tighten around the mafiaboss and his throbbing girth, your whole body being flushed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure which you drink up whole. His cockhead rubs against your sweetspot, you riding out the high while seeing nothing but bliss.

"Holy fuck," you breathe, and your fingers grip into the thick skin of his back, and with Mr. Choi's hips not stopping to hit your pelvis, there are additional, injuring, deep red marks on there with every thrust. You’re scratching him like a beast wanting to tear up its prey, but the beast is fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. His cock does not stop grazing against your deepest spot, tears rolling down your heated cheek, and your mouth is unable to get out the words you want it to when you get the feeling that he's going to cum soon.

"O- out," you warn him, but the mafiaboss makes a disappointed face, “I– I really can’t afford a child, p-please pull out–!”

He draws his eyebrows in, scoffs and looks you deep in the eyes, his muscular body tucked in, murmuring, rambling out his whiskey-painted throat, “Is that really your only problem, baby? That you don’t have enough money?” His forehead leans against yours and your eyelids flutter open– you are being a mitt around his dick– and he pouts in pity, his iron cross hanging from his chest, as he talks to you.

Mr. Choi gets his hand flat on your lower belly and presses down on it, feeling himself bulge inside you. He moves his hips slowly, his cockhead dragging across your sweetspot, while he gutters, “you’d look so sexy as a mother, don’t you think, baby? With the tummy and all.”

“S- sir, please I–”

"Come on, do you think I don’t have enough money to pay for a fucking kid? God, how fucking annoying– I’m not that kind of man, baby,” Mr Choi growls, his voice vibrating against your cheek, as he charges his forehead deeper against yours, “I still got some honor.”

You shake your head, unsure whether there are pills for after in the pharmacies, or whether the mafiaboss will really be there to be with you as he promises, but Mr. Choi continues to beg in his low breathy, guttery voice. “Baby,” he rumbles, pressing even harder on your abdomen, your ass being pushed into the handrail that you’re sure it’s going to leave one red straight mark, and his cock is almost exploding from the edge, “Let me, no, let daddy cum into your tight cunt, baby, please.”

God, he wants you. He wants you so bad, doesn’t he?

"Y- you should see yourself," you chuckle, stroking over Mr. Choi's gelled hair, and his head tilts up a little bit as your fingers get tangled in his black locks, the white of his eyes making him look like a wild dog waiting for its treat. "F-fucking do it, you fucking slut."

"Fuck, baby," he laughs, out of breath, "You’re really a price."

Mr. Choi hammers his hips into you, until the stars in front of you all look like wishes falling from the sky. Both of you feel it, how his cock just feels so right, fits in like your cunt is a fucking glove which is full and getting even fuller.

"God, fuck," Mr. Choi grunts from the bottom of his throat, his hot cum lading into you, and it's like your lower body is melting with it, becoming heavier with every drop he's unloading inside.

"Take all of my fucking cum," he husks and your faces clash together for one finishing wild kiss. Mr. Choi sucks on your lower lip, as he fucks his ejaculation deeper and deeper into your hole with slow thrusts, until he bucks up his pelvis the last time and moans out a raspy, “perfect fucking missy with a perfect fucking cunt..."

Ding!

For a man that uses his mouth so sparingly, his tongue surely works wonders.

"Sir, are you—"

Headman Park has entered the elevator without a word, pulling off his leather gloves, and with Mr. Choi stepping away, he has all the place he requires to get on his knees and throw your leg over his shoulder, his wet and warm muscle delving into your throbbing cunt. You've been bereaved of the time to inspect what was behind or around him when the door closed, but maybe that's irrelevant anyways. What is relevant, is how impatient, but also how careful the CEO remains, and how he still tries his best to slowly sift his tongue into your folds, feeling every inch of your wetness. He’s been dying to do this.

"Fuck, sir!"

"Please," the CEO chuckles, hastily pulling the black leathery from his hands to put it back in his briefcase that he's been carrying, but he doesn't miss your cunt once, purling over your clit and glancing at you. "Call me Seonghwa, princess."

You could cum right here and there, just at the sight of this pretty man looking up to you, who has laid out his first name and put it into yours, scream it out loud until everyone hears what a princess you've been made of.

Princess. You knew his eyes were different, but you didn’t know they saw the world differently too. Oh, how you wish you could see more of his world.

"Aww, what? That's why you're still a foreigner in our country, brother! 'Can't be dropping our titles," Mr. Choi huffs and lights himself a second cigarette, filling the elevator with smoke and tobacco. How his breath really doesn't smell is questionable to you.

Just like you, the CEO, or how you're allowed to call him now— Seonghwa, ignores his partner's words, laps over your clit with his tongue, gently easing into your cunt with his clean fingers, and your soft sighs are like a reward for him, for whatever he's done outside.

"Respect, brother, 's all about respect..."

You tighten your thighs around Seonghwa's neck. The charcoal-haired has closed his eyes, sighing into the taste of you, and you are flawlessly overlooking the loud mafiaboss, just completely concentrating on the commitment the CEO is eating you out with. His head fits magically between your legs, he works his fingers so flawlessly into you, this must be fate— and if it's not, you're going to make it your future in any which way possible. You're falling. No, flying; never coming down.

"Seonghwa," you whine, and your hand glides over the hooked male's forehead, his hair feeling smooth under your touch as he presses his tongue slowly— in circular motion— against your clit to keep you on the high, but not in a way that would make you trip over.

"Mmf," the mafiaboss in front of you huffs, clearly attracted, enticed by the way you've exhaled the other male’s first name, scratching his temple with the fingers that are holding his cigarette.

"Whether you wanna call me San or 'daddy', baby," the scarred male, no, San, the fucker grins, "I'm gonna be hearing both either way."

"Fuck—", you moan out, having to take a breath because of how Seonghwa has curled his fingers into you with his tongue ready to shovel anything into his mouth that comes out, "you, fuckhead!"

The CEO is giggling a bit, finding your tone very amusing— and he tries to tell you this by looking up and slanting his eyes a friendly way, no, a way that you've never even conjured up the fantasy to perceive him, the cold-faced Park Seonghwa who hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol tonight. What pureness in a man...

"I liked 'fat-cat' better,” San snickers and goes through his hair that definitely needs combing, turning around and looking at himself through the mirror, though his eyes squint towards Seonghwa's reflection on the other side, now again lost in your cunt, taking off his jacket and folding it in half behind his back.

"Brother, you're eating my cum, by the way," the mafiaboss jabs, puffing out smoke while he's decidedly getting hard again in his trousers. San really can't hide his emotions on his face, can he? His lips are pursed, eyebrows slightly pulled in— how obvious. The man is jealous and doesn't want to admit it, you're sure of it.

"Shut up," you hiss, having become a bit comfortable with teasing the frustrated, outwitted mafiaboss. Ten minutes were definitely too little for him, but you've already rid his thigh, let him cum inside, and Seonghwa is simply too good with his tongue right now.

"Fuuuck," you whisper, and feel every drowsy twirl of his finger inside you, but it's slow, so slow, Seonghwa is swerving around every sponginess inside you, savoring the contraction of your inner space, and how your muscles tighten, when he licks over your clit, he enjoys this; enjoys you.

And so it continues, Park Seonghwa exploring every detail of your cunt as if he's a sommelier tasting the rarest of fluids, appreciating every drop that lands on his tongue, his fingers making sure that they don't go to waste.

"Shit," San comments, "I should've eaten her out, too."

The CEO is not cocky about it, about the way you are grabbing into his hair and squirming, how he has to slightly lift you up so you don't fall from your position. And then, when Seonghwa thinks your taste has perfectly coated his palate, speeds up.

"Fuck, sir," and the title slips out of you, like a habit you can't change for good when you feel so small. The CEO between your legs doesn't mind it though, at least doesn't say anything on it and just lets his fingers hit your sweet spot until there is a distinctive "Seonghwa" leaving sighed out your lips.

"I'm going to—", you announce, but the male has been long aware of it, preparing himself more access by bending his upper body to angle himself across your cunt, giving his partner a better view on how you glisten in arousal.

San in front of you is standing frozen, with his cigarette slowly burning out in his mouth, and you recompense the lack of his cock in your cunt by moaning louder, so your voice can vibrate around his erection. He grins and gets a tongue to his canine tooth, naked upper body still glowing in sweat, muscles shining, cock twitching every time he hears you breathe, and breathe more intensely, "make me cum, Seonghwa, please!"

"I knew you would taste delicious," Seonghwa murmurs, silently, rather for himself, and this must be how he sounds when he's drunk, because he is so high on your taste, "but this is ambrosial, princess."

You curl up your pelvis, and Seonghwa holds you by your hips, as his tongue picks up in speed, drawing out every word he hasn't spoken tonight on your labia, stamping them into your clit, all the while his fingers row in more and every last drop.

"C- coming~", you purr, and your eyes close down, your hands deep in Seonghwa's scalp, exhaling the weight of your worries, that flushes down into the man who seems to have none in his life, and he breathes into your hot cunt through his nose, not letting go of it until he's made sure that your hips tremble around his head. "P- please, f- fuck, fuck, feels so good—"

Pumping the remaining come into you, Seonghwa licks up your cunt and kisses your clit until you go completely flaccid, your arms giving in, but Seonghwa catches you by your hand, kissing your thigh with his swollen pink lips.

With your body relaxed, your ass feels a bite sore, having been prodded into the iron rail for so long. You grab into Seonghwa's hand and try to push yourself up, but ultimately fail at getting yourself into a more comfortable position.

"San, hold her."

"Huh?", he asks, "'Need something more snuggly, baby? Or what did you call her again, brother?"

"Princess," the CEO answers immediately and you have to suppress a girly giggle, as Seonghwa turns his head around, lips still pressed against your thigh. He presumably sends San an admonitory look to hurry up, and gets up from his knees.

The mafiaboss shrugs, not offended by being ordered around. He puts out the cigarette against the mirror and cracks his neck by rolling his head around, his thick neck dousing into your sight as he does so. He's so intimidating, you think, but he's on his way to coast those monster-arms behind your back, hands down to each of your hamstrings to, "up you go," pick you up like real royalty. The giggle escapes your mouth but you don't feel the slightest embarrassed nor do you have a reason to be. You are sunken deep into San’s cushiony arms— his muscles make for a great seat, and hovering, air hitting your hot cunt, as your legs spread for the CEO in front of you when you fall into the elbows. You yelp, but the giggles just keep coming, making San in the mirror in front of you wink at you, cackling, "you like that, princess?"

Seonghwa smiles, satisfied by your enjoyment of this position and approaches you once more. "I have yet to kiss you, Y/N," he says with his sweet voice, and his gentle hands find your chin and waist, your eyes blossoming open for him to stare into.

Even San shuts up now, and you suppose he is too taking part in the beauty that is the embrace of you and Seonghwa; two sets of lips, crazing each other, meeting for one flowery affair, breathing out small vapors of life. You can taste yourself, which means that Seonghwa is fully consumed by your aroma.

God, you think again, your cunt tingling at how Seonghwa tugs at his tie, pulling it side to side as he kisses you— the golden 'π'-pin clanks shrill to the floor— everything about Seonghwa is so...

Clean?

You are inhaling the mellow smell of his satiny skin, and the CEO unbuttons his shirt with proficient, skilfull flicks of his fingers. He is so handsome, handsomely pretty, and even when it’s drenched in your fluids, his skin shines on its own, like Seonghwa has a light shining within. Once you can see his bare chest and get lost on the smooth surface, your eyes dive down, admiring his slim, yet very muscular physique.

Seonghwa gets his tie and drags off his shirt by tugging at one sleeve with his hand, the white fabric revealing the rest of body with one clean pull that matches one of the curtains.

"W-", and you have to jump back with your head to get the full spectacle that's presented in front of you, exhaling in awe— "Wow.."

"Not so blank, our brother, is he?", San chuckles from behind of you and lowers his head to press his chin against your temple, surveying the same sight.

Two colossal, monstrous dragons, red and black, are colliding, looped, entangled all around Seonghwa's right arm, fighting for dominance on his skin. The raven hydra has its jaw wide open where Seonghwa looks to his shoulder with a rather shy smile once he sees your reaction, baring its teeth towards his heart, while the crimson dragon ends at the CEO's wrist, sitting on top of his pulse.

"Would you believe me it was brother's idea, baby?"

"As if," Seonghwa murmurs, folding his shirt into a square.

San chuckles again, re-shuffling himself and pressing your back close to his stomach, granting the back of your head to rest at his collarbone. "I asked her if she would believe, brother."

You watch the delicate lines, the elegant strokes of tint meeting on his skin, but while your first impression made you believe they carried a certain viciousness with their svelte bodies, the second sight presents you a different image of two forces maneuvering into each other as a reminder that they both co-exist as supreme. It's not one another they're reviling against, it's the bearer of the both who is threatened by their fangs. Their existence is a warning reminder, but also a sign of pride.

"I believe it's... beautiful."

“Aw, you’re so sweet, baby.”

You haven't seen many tattoos in your life, none in the mountains, and even in the city the only observable tattoos were those of the sleazy guys in alleys that wait when you're done with your job to gape at your uniform. They got tigers and other animals roaring on their bodies to hide the fact they don't have the fighting skills to keep up, but for Seonghwa, a CEO, to have this amount of ink under his skin is a commitment and to imagine he’s hiding that under his ironed shirt and black jacket, no, that you are seeing it right now, it’s… You’re overwrought, steamed up, aflame.

"Wanna touch it, baby?", San asks, and you nod eagerly. Seonghwa chuckles, “Go for it.”

You let your fingertip ghost over the dragons' scales, tailing their curvature. Goosebumps form on Seonghwa's arm and his hand finds its way to your head, stroking your cheek, as you meet the red beast's eyes.

The mafiaboss whispers, almost sentimentally, "No blood or tears."

Another expression, which proves to you that the tattoo was undoubtedly his idea, but you see it, the romance that is spoken from the male's skin, regardless of the little insight you have on both of them. Loyalty, reverence, creed, a belief and a duty, and before you know it, you want Seonghwa to enwrap you with his arms and never let you go, which he does.

His slender hand cloaks the left side of your head, and he pulls himself into a kiss, while he unbuckles his belt with his other hand.

You don't know how much you understand of this situation, no, you don't know how much you want to understand of this situation.

You've been on your own. That's all you ever had after you left home: Your body and soul, the windstorms of the mountains pushing you from the back to keep going, and you've lived your best life living for yourself that way, in bliss, in ignorance— in peace, but what is peace in a place where you can't move by yourself? In a world that’s maimed by the rich, and sure, it may be that you’ve chosen your path, but you were never walking a road that was yours, always trailing behind something.

Nameless, that’s what you thought you would need to be.

Your monks wanted to be called their title like everyone else, it would have been disrespectful to ask Lady Kim for hers which you now regret, and not even as a secret did your old man tell you his name, but you— you, Y/N, you have a name and you want to scream it, live it as loud as you can, hear it echo back with a volume that feels stronger when it rings back.

You could have settled on being acknowledged by your supervisor to earn some good money, but this is what you’re here for, aren’t you? Why you trusted your gut to stick to the scary men? Why you walked to them with confident steps, even when a nervous knot was forming together inside you? Did you go as what, an act of defiance? One of independence? To prove yourself that you were still standing on your own feet?

"Speaking of, brother..."

Yes, with no shame.

"You really enjoyed yourself back there, didn’t you?”, San asks. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

Seonghwa is kissing you down your breast, observing closely how you breathlessly react to his tongue twirling around your nipple.

"You left me no other chance," the older male hums, coating your circular buds with his saliva, bringing out your heavenly sighs every chance he gets, stroking himself to the sounds of your pleasure.

"Well, I would have made sure you still fucked her, brother."

“Sure,” Seonghwa lisps and positions his cockhead at your entrance.

You try to grab San's shoulder behind you, as the male pushes himself inside, and your torso rotates to the side with your eyebrows pulling together, your cunt being spread apart. “F-fuck,” you exhale, and Seonghwa kisses the corner of your lip to soothe you. Your cunt squelches around his cock and your hips roll by themselves, wanting to take more of his length.

"Shit, look at her go," the mafiaboss woos, "Fuck yourself out, brother."

"Think you’ll miss this?", Seonghwa snickers and it must be the first question he has asked today. “Y- yeah, you will!”, you snap, feeling eager to be acknowledged for how good your cunt wraps around his throbbing heat.

“Oh, princess,” the CEO laughs, and your stomach drops because of how pretty his laughter sounds, and he caresses your cheek, only making your confusion and desire to finally uncover what the two men have obviously been keeping from you grow bigger. You don’t want to say it abruptly, but you three are naked, in a confined space, skins pressed against each other, so you believe you’re worth some type of explanation– or are you not?

“C- can you tell me what’s going to happen?”, you whine, and Seonghwa moves his hips, grabbing you by your waist to get his whole length. “Are you, fuck, going to leave me?”

“I dunno, brother, you call it,” San mutters. “It was your plan.”

“D- don’t!”

“It’s barely my plan anymore,” Seonghwa breathes, bucking his pelvis in, his cockhead being sucked in by your sensitive cunt.

“Don’t leave me!”

“You needed a distraction, brother, I got you one.”

“No,” Seonghwa chuckles, but in his heat, he kisses you and glances up at San while his tongue brushes against your lip. “But I’ll admit she saved us some jail-time, San.”

They continue talking over your pleas, and though you would have loved to ask a second time how the night was going to end, your brain has started to give into the pleasure once San folds your legs together, holding you by your hamstrings, giving Seonghwa an easier angle to fuck you senseless.

“F- fu-huuck,” you breathe out, and your eyes are disappearing behind your molten, droopy eyelids, with Seonghwa cumming for the second time on your abdomen and cleaning it up with his handkerchief, and you don’t even know when it was, that San crammed out his cock again, but you can definitely feel the difference of his girth, when he re-enters your used cunt, your legs shakily landing on the floor. They feel wobbly, your thighs having gone loose, and the mafiaboss has to hold you by your arms behind your back to support you.

“Can’t take it anymore, baby?”, San whispers into your ear, and his voice is low, very low, you don’t know how much time has passed since you could make out any of his words, but it feels like you’re back here, in the elevator, and Seonghwa is putting on his belt again.

“I c- can!”, you manage to whine out, not wanting the night to end, not wanting to return to your small apartment, not wanting these two to be gone from your life. “I can!”, you repeat yourself, when San lets out a mockful cackle. “You’re not going to fucking leave me here, San!”

“Who said anything about leaving you here, baby?”, he asks you, and he does mean his confusion, but the sarcastic undertone makes you desperate grow desperate. San frowns. “What did I tell you, baby?”

“You aren’t telling me shit, San!”, you sob, and his cock running through you prevents you from finding a braver voice, his two hands find your wrists to bind them together in his grip. “Aren’t you such a smartie,” he growls into your ear, hot air hitting your dissolving ear.

“Brother,” San calls out, and the addressed man is busy opening up his briefcase, getting on his knee. “I’m still waiting on you, y’know.”

“If you had stuck to the plan, th–” Seonghwa murmurs, but the mafiaboss falls into his word. “Then we would have fuckin’ send the bitch to prison and someone else would have him killed him, but there! You know I didn’t come with the fucking patience for that, brother! Geezer was getting on my fucking nerves.”

Killed?

“And don’t you talk back now,” San warns, “It was you who killed all of ‘em, so you figure out how you’re going to carry that one out.”

Killed?

“You already know how I’m going to carry this out.” Seonghwa smirks. “But you’re stopping me, San.”

“Augh, brother, you’re too sober for your own sake!” San’s cock is too deep in your cunt and your body is too much in his control for you to stop moaning like a bitch, but in your head, you’re puzzling together tonight’s happenings.

Expensive whiskey. Ice cubes. Ten minutes, gunshots, black leather gloves– “killed.”

Oh, Y/N.

“What did you do with the chairman, Seonghwa?”, you moan out, feeling how the mafiaboss is ramming himself into you at a sloppy, greedy pace, prolonging how much he can be inside you before he comes again, and you don’t know whether his heavy breathing can cover up the silence that it takes for the CEO to react to your question.

Seonghwa is still kneeled on the floor, when he rotates his head, smiling, his eyebrows pushed up. “What do you think I did?” His second question of the day.

“I- I,” you stutter, but San shakes his head, and interrupts you with his voice still loose from the alcohol, “you really don’t know how to keep up a good mood, brother!”, grabbing you by your chin and yanking your head up. “Lemme make my baby cum first!”

You can’t see Seonghwa anymore. You can barely see anything anymore, you’re counting your fifth or sixth orgasm of the night, cunt growing hotter with each time San thrusts into it, and with your breath being cut off, you slowly feel your arms lose their responsibility, tingling up from where your wrists are crossed behind your back. His cockhead is flaying against your g-spot and your thighs tremble at how used you’re being, eyes falling in, throat feeling tied up.

“S- San,” you manage to cough out, back arching for your final cry of pleasure, and San grins, letting go of your wrists, which makes you immediately fall to the front, finding safety against the mirror with both of your hands. He smacks his hands against your ass and lunges into you until your whole breast is pushed against the cold wall.

“Come on, baby, come for me,” San roars, and you wail, tired, exhausted, feeling the orgasm drown you like another wave in the ocean of bliss you’ve been swimming in, whining out, “coming, coming for you, San!”

The mafiaboss presses himself against your back, his silver cross being imprinted into your neck, as he unloads himself, his last drops of hot cum overflowing out of you. “Fucking slut… So fucking good…”

He kisses your jaw repeatedly and looks at how tiredly closed your eyes are in the mirror, cooing “aww, baby.” San strokes away a strand of hair and gets himself off your body, pulling out. “You look like you need some sleep, baby.”

You are trying to catch your breath, grabbing the handrail to hold yourself up, as it sounds like San is putting on his shirt again. They’re gonna fucking leave you here, aren’t they? Leave you here in the elevator with the– with the fucking bankrolls on the floor of the fucking men you fucking– Oh god… Keep breathing, Y/N. Keep on breathing.

“I mean all I’m saying… you know… lobsters and crabs are friends, pal.”

What the fuck is he on again…

“You’re making this hard on yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything, just sayin’ that she just grew on me, that’s all.”

Your legs tremble, as you try straightening them to stand up and see what the two are scheming again, but as you turn your body around, ass against the handrail again, you hear a very unfamiliar clicking in front of your forehead area which is not coming out of San’s mouth.

“You’ve grown soft. That’s what you did.”

“Ahhh, fuck you, brother.”

“Pathetic.”

You see a hole, and it also doesn’t take you long to see Seonghwa ready to pull the trigger, the mafiaboss leaning into the corner of the elevator, arms crossed, looking at you with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, pressing the button that leads to the lobby.

The night is over.

“A- are you going to– oh my g-god, are you going to kill me…?”

“Yes, princess.”

Your heart is going to burst, you could puke out so many words right now, but you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to die, not when you felt so fucking alive– you– fuck, you should feel sorry that your coworkers that they didn’t deserve to go the same way as the asswipes did, because you’ve long realised that the bangs were their skulls being crushed by the bullets, but at the same time you couldn’t care any fucking less about them right now. You just have to survive, that was the only thing that mattered since the very beginning. This is about your life. Your precious fucking life.

“Ah…”

Your body is too weak to hyperventilate, but your brain is working overtime. Do you run? Attack them? No…

Seonghwa hasn’t moved an inch away from your face, and you take it upon yourself to raise your hand and slowly push the cold, black gun to the side, so you can look him in his eyes, but he forces it back there.

“Please don’t kill me… I can do so much for you! I– I,” you stutter, trying to gather all the knowledge your monks have taught you. “I– I’ll do anything! You– you saw me, didn’t you? I have– I’ve been told I have a talent for serving! I– I can do anything, please, I beg you, just…”

You fall to your knees, and they burn on the glassy floor, your hands folded in front of your abdomen.

“Just please, let me live…”

You’re not greedy. You’ve only taken what you were given, and tonight, you’ve been given so much. Too much? No, it couldn’t be…

“Brother.”

There are tears flowing down your eyes, and you feel so sorry for yourself. You miss your old monk, and hope that you may be reincarnated to a butterfly that he can admire, just so that he can look at you with his adoring eyes again. So someone can want the best for you once in your life–

“Brother?”

So anyone can finally love you for once in your life.

next part coming soon... series masterlist | main masterlist

#cromernet #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenario #ateez smut #ateez x reader #chokkiwa #chokko #drivebyme

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wonderinglostsoul · 1 year

Text

Criminal Mind Fanfic

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You are an FBI agent with a past and you were about to enter the BAU.

Trigger warning: BAU stuff like killing, violence, assault, mention of rape and suicide. I tried not to get too graphic with the decription

Note: This is a slow burn so I hope you can bare with me. I am trying to make it as short as possible. ( I actually wrote this note when I am writing the first chapter and now I have 8 chapters on my draft sooooooooo)

I know that it is a long read but I tried to make each chapter as interesting as possible by adding some case. And as a reward here is a smiling Thomas Gibson

You can view other chapters on Wattpad

Master list:

Chapter 1

You arrived at the BAU one hour earlier. No one was there yet so you roam around the office to make yourself busy, trying not to touch anything. You don’t want to evade any privacy or think that you were snooping even before you get the job.

As you roam around you study each of the desk. There is a desk with a lot of books and science fiction stuff. The desk was tidy but not organize. You know that this is a guy in his late 20s. He was hired by the FBI not because of his strength but his intelligence.

The next table was easier to identify because of a family picture on the table. It was the blonde woman who is an FBI and her husband? You figure that he is a cop. You were about to go to the next table when one of the office at the top of the stairs open.

“Can I help you?” A man says with a soft voice. He is fit, tall and handsome. You can see a hint of tiredness in his eyes. Or was it sadness? All you know is that he havent left his office since yesterday. You got a glimpse of the name tag on the door. It says Aaron.

“Mr. Aaron Hotchner, Hi I am [Y/N/L].” You hurriedly went upstair and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you sir”

He shakes your hand and spoke “You too. But you were early, our meeting was not supposed to be in an hour. Please come in” He opened the door.

When you enter the room you see some paper works. He go to one end of the table and he asked you to sit on another.

He read your file. You know that half of it are true but the other half? Its only your previous boss knows.

“This is a good recommendation that you’ve got. However, your experience with the bureau is… short. I am not sure if it can be sufficient with what we need right now.” He said while he continue reading your resume. You can see the hesitation on his face.

“I do understand that you wanted to hire someone who has experience. But I know that I can be of help with you here, sir. I can be of help so you dont have to pull all this all nighter and spend the rest of your time with your son.” You told him. He looked at you intently. You knew that he was not convinced but both of you also know that this interview is just a formality. Hotchner does not want to hire anyone through nepotism. And this scenario reminds him of how Emily Prentiss started in BAU and he is afraid that the history will repeat it self

He sighed and put the folder down. “ I want to be honest with you,” he said in a low serious voice. “I dont know who you are but everyone on the higher ups wanted me to hire you. But this job. What we do, its important and dangerous and if I cannot trust you or you lacking the experience you might be endangering us all”

“Then try me.” You said, sighing in between smile. “If my experience is not enough for you then put me on the field so I can show you what I can do. I know that I have all these backers but I also studied behavioral science and profiling so I know what I am doing. I pass my exam here in Quantico so I am qualified as any of the agents here. I am top of my class. ” You said with conviction. A knock on the door interrupted your meeting. The door opens and a bubbly blonde open the door. You figure out that she was not the same kind of agent that you are.

“I’m sorry, sir but the Texas PD called and they need our help.” She said.

“Thank you, Garcia. Tell everyone to meet at the conference room.” He said.

“Yes, sir.” She said then closed the door.

“I hope you have your travel bag with you. Follow me please.” He stand up and headed to the door.

We arrived at the conference room and everyone fell silent and looked at us.

“Everyone this is [Y/N]. She will be part of the team “Probationally”.” Hotchner Said emphasizing the probationally.

He starts introducing everyone. Reid, the guy with all the book, Jennifer, the woman with a kid and cop husband, Penelope, the girl who knocks at the Hotchner’s door, Morgan and Rossi.

They were talking about a mass shooting in Texas but they cannot find the shooter.

“An L.D.S.K. “Reid said as a matter of fact.

“What is L.D.S.K?” You asked.

“Long distance serial killer” Reid answers.

“A sniper?” You asked. Hotchner click the remote and shows the victims photo.

“Most likely yes. It seems that the victims were being assassinated. The shooter is from a high a place and shot in the victims in the head and the trajectory of the bullet is in downward position” Hotchner explained. Great! You thought. The last thing you need is a case related to your past

“We need to go to texas. wheels up in 30.” Hotchner added and then he headed out of the conference room.

Everyone started to stand up and followed hotchner. You stayed because you thought of something but Morgan interrupted your thought.

“Hey newbie, you coming?” He said,

“Yes, yes.” You said absentmindedly.

You arrived at the jet. Good thing that your previous boss told you to ready a travel bag because this assignment requires a lot of traveling. Derek and Reid are already seated beside each other, in-front of them is JJ. So you seated at the long couch beside them. Rossi and hotchner was seated at the other side of the plane. The screen opens and Garcia was at the monitor. Rossi and hotchner both stand up and join your area. Rossi seated beside you and hotchner seated on the armrest beside Rossi.

They started to discuss about the victimology. 2 of the victims are male both from a different age group and industry.

“I remember one of our L.D.S.K unsub. The nurse. He would use his car to hide himself and shoot his victim.” Morgan suggested

“Yes but he was not aiming for the head. He was only aiming for the stomach. And he was shooting as many victims as he could so he can save them. But this new unsub kills all the victim.” Reid said.

“Of course you remember it correctly. This is were you got your gun right, out of hotch pity because you saves his life.” Morgan teasing.

“I was able to pass my exam after that so I earned it fair and square” Reid answered.

“Alright, how about you [Y/N] do you have your gun. If not, I think Reid’s whistle is around here somewhere. “Morgan teases and started looking around

“She has a perfect score on her qualifying exam. She has the license to use any kind of guns” Hotchner said. You glance at him and you saw that he was looking at you. Everyone fell silent so try to join the quip.

“I can teach you when we comeback” You told Reid with a smile. “ But my tip is to Aim, shoot and follow thru.”

“Thats the same tip from hotch.” You look at hotchner and he was still looking at you intently so you smiled at him. To stop the awkwardness you address garcia,

“Garcia, do you know the height of the victim?”

“Not yet but I will send you the details as soon as I got the ME.” Penelope responded,

“And can you please check the trajectory of the bullet. Can they Identify the angle?” You added

“For what?” JJ asked,

“To find where the shooter was located during the shooting. We can narrow down the buildings and floors to search.” Rossi answered JJ. “That was impressive [Y/N]. You seems to know a lot about balistc.”

“Yeah” You answered.

“Rossi, [Y/N] and Reid, go to the hospital and check the bodies, you can get your answers there. Morgan, JJ go to the lasted crime scene. I will meet at the texas pd.” Hotchner ordered. They all go back to their seat. You read your case file again and analyze the crime scene.

“Newbie, what’s your story” Morgan asked you.

“What do you mean?” You answered peaking from the case file.

“What do you do before you join the BAU?” He asked, everyone was waiting for you to answer. Even Hotchner put down his case file to listen.

Of course you cannot tell them who you really are. It is confidential and they might not understand even if you tell them. So just tell them all the half truth on your resume. You study behavioral science and profiling in quantico. At the same time you do trainings to be a field agent. You have a short stint as an undercover agent and then you asked to be transferred to BAU to pursue your dream job and become a profiler.

“Why is it that your dream job is to become a profiler? It seems rare to find someone with that dream.” JJ asked.

“Because I can read people easily like an open book. For instance, you are married with 2 kids. You grew up in a farm and based on your body built you are athletic. When we are waiting for take off, you ere fidgeting your phone, contemplating whether to call or not but you opted to text. I concur that you had a fight with your husband and you just inform him that you were on the plane and might not be home tonight. I can go on but I dont want to be rude. But I guess you got my point.” You said apologetically.

“Thats amazing,” JJ said still in shock.

“I know, but it seems that I cannot read 100% of who they are and it still puzzles me how they can kill so many people. Do they have remorse or do they enjoy it so much. All I know is that there are alot of things that you can learn with the human behaviour.” You said passionately.

“I hope you’ll get what you needed here. “ JJ said warmly.

“Thanks” you answered,

The plane landed in Texas. When you embarked to the tarmac you see 3 cars waiting for you. You follow Reid and Rossi to the hospital.

At the hospital you confirmed that the unsub did the shooting at a high place. Approximately 18 floors. You asked garcia if there are building like that in a 10 mile radius and she confirm that there are 17 buildings. you were able to narrow it down because of the position of the victim when it falls. He was laying on his back so most likely he was facing the direction of the shooter.

You call Hotch and mentioned this to him. He asked Morgan and JJ to join you so that you can check floors 17 to 19.

You were able to find the bullet casing on the 18th floor and handed them with the ballistic team. Hotch asked you all to go back to the station to round up your findings.

On the way Garcia was able to find the connection on the victims. They were a member of robbers who were responsible on robbing a bank in the early 90’s. The statue of limitation was about to expire soon and they can now used the marked money that they were able to rob during that time. The team figures that one of the member was trying to eliminate the others to have all the share by themselves. There are still 3 members alive.

The team was able to profile the suspect. Male in their late 40s early 50s. Previous member of a gang. Not really an anti social but does not have any committed relationship in the past years.

The team investigated the bank robbery to identify the other suspect. You spent almost the whole day and still does not got anything. Hotch told everyone to go back to the hotel take a rest and start fresh tomorrow.

You were walking at the corridor when Hotch called you. You glance back and said “What’s up?”

“You did great a while ago at the building. You were able to identify the crime scene. It seems to me that you really know a lot with regards to guns and ballistic but it does not show in your resume.”

“It was just a hobby.” You said defensively. “I also read alot of cases before thats why I knew how to examine medical reports. And I guess watching alot of criminal drama also do good.” You told him smiling. Hotchner just nod but still examining you.

“Sure. Rest up and have a good night.” He bid you good night and open his door. You make way to your own room and started to settle in.

The next morning you all reconvene at the station. This time you made the connection. You were separated in 3 teams and went to each suspects house. All of them was out. On the 2 of the suspect you saw letters asking them to meet at the nearby plaza but the other one did not. Now you knew who is the unsub. Hotchner asked everyone to meet there but before you go with Hotchner to the car you realized something.

“Hotchner, wait!” Hotch glance back at you, holding the car door.

“I dont think that the unsub will be at the meeting place. If he used a sniper before, I bet he will also use one here. He will hunt both of them down.”

“You’re right!” He get his phone and dialed Garcia.

“How can I help you today lovely people.” Garcia greeted at the other side of the phone.

“Garcia, can you find a building near the park. around 10mile radius.”

“There are several, ma’am.”

“How about High rise building with atleast 18 floor?” Hotchner asked.

“There are 7 but there is one building with exactly 18 floors and the highest floor is currently renovated. I will send you the address.”

“Thank you!” You and Hotchner both shouted. You go in the car. Reid was waiting for you. While driving you called everyone and mentioned your finding. You will go to the building while the rest will go to the park. Hotchner also asked back up. While on the way you saw a taller building, atleast 20 floors high. You ask Hotchner to stop.

“Stop the car!” You shouted.

“Why did you find anything?” Hotchner asked.

“I am about to. You go to that building that garcia mentioned. I will check something here.” You said in a hurry. You were about to go down. When Hotchner asked you to stop.

“I did not authorized you to do any of this unless you tell me why. Why do you need to go to that building. What is the connection to the case?”

“I cannot tell you just yet. But I can promise you that I can help. just please trust me on this. If I screw up then fire me right here. Just trust me please.” But you know he will not do that so you immediately grab the black bag you stash under the seat and jump out the car. You heard the car go away but you did not look back.

You run in the building and asked the guard that you need to go to the roof. You show your FBI ID badge and they escort you immediately. When you were at the last floor you asked the guard to stay put and dont approach the rooftop until you said so.

When you are at the rooftop, you open your bag. Inside is your sniper. Which you always bring anywhere with you. What was not added in your resume is that you were a trained sniper of the FBI. You are one of the best there is. You assemble the gun and insert some bullets.

You position your gun and look into the scope to locate the building that Garcia mentioned. You scan the top floor and saw the UnSub. He was preparing to shoot. You scan the park and saw the target and you also saw Morgan, JJ and Rossi approaching the 2 targets. When suddenly each of the swat team started falling down. You knew that the unsub was shooting. Before anything else, you point your gun to the unsub. You can see him smiling. And with your instinct you pull the trigger. It hit the unsub in the head. You saw his gun fall on the ground when he lose grip and fell down. Your heart was raising. This is the first time that you use your sniper after that unfortunate event. You were still looking at the scope when you saw Hotchner go to the window trying to find the one who shoot the unsub but you know he will not find you because you are a few miles away that the naked eye cannot see anymore. You look at him at scope for a while. Trying to read his facial expression. You know that he knew you were the one who did this so you know that he was angry at you. But when you look intently at his face, it was not anger, but rather worry that was registering in his face. He was scanning every single building around but to no avail. He frowned then you saw Reid joined him. He talked to Hotchner. Based on his lip movement you read that the others are fine and the officer that was hit was not critical. You smiled and put away your gun.

You retrieve the bullet casing and put it on your pocket. You went down and join the team at the park.

When JJ see you she was surprised.

“I thought you were with Hotch and Reid at the building where the UnSub is?” JJ asked

“Something happened thats why we have to split. How’s everyone? “ you answered her

“Everyone was fine. Some of the SWAT Team got shot as we approached the target but there were graze, I dont think the UnSub has any intention to kill them.” Morgan answered.

“And what will happened to the robbers?” You asked him

“The statue of limitation will not expire until tomorrow so they can still be arrested.” Morgan answered. You smiled.

“Thats great.” You know they have questions. Its not normal that the boss will let someone alone especially during they apprehension of the suspect. And the bag that you carry. You look more suspicious than any unsub there is. But you know that this is your last day. so you do not care anymore.

When you arrived at the station you saw Hotchner. He was shocked for a second to see you and is that a hint of relief? No, you must be imagining. And in a split second his face become serious again. He raised on eyebrow and then look away. You know that you were fired the moment you left that car. So you just approached him holding your badge.

“Sir,” You said in a low voice. When he turn around you stretched your arm, offering him your badge. He just raised his eyebrow again at the sight of the badge then he look at you

“We will talk when we arrive in Quantico.” He said then turn back to whatever he was doing. You retrieve your hand and walk away, joining the rest of the team.

The plain ride was excruciating. Hotchner was quiet and pretending you did not exist. The rest was minding also there own business. So you just lay down on the couch and tried to snooze all the noises. You cannot believe that you were able to screw your dream job.

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whumpshaped · 2 years

Text

Potential

Sweet as Sugar Masterlist

so anyway this is the general vibe......... if no ones interested i dont have to continue w it but i just had this vivid image in my head earlier today and i had to write it out

tw lady whumper, lady whumpee, classism, pet whump, implied auction of said pets, manipulation, mocking addiction (smoking), dehumanisation

"Ari!" Saccharine stopped when she heard the call, but didn't turn around. Instead she waited for the man to catch up to her, panting as if he'd run a mile to get there instead of a couple steps, watching him intently as he circled around and came to a stop in front of her.

That's what smoking does to you, I guess. Fucking disgusting.

She flashed the man a polite smile, hiding her disdain and impatience. "Myles. I didn't know you were coming. I would've waited for you."

"I wasn't going to," he said, trying to regain his composure and stop gulping down air like he'd just been drowned. "I wasn't, but then- then I saw that you were coming, at the last minute. And I knew I wasn't gonna be able to make the next show, so I wanted to have the opportunity to meet up again. Talk a bit."

Saccharine tilted her head to the side. There was a reason she didn't invite him to tag along, and she wished he would take a hint. Well, didn't matter. Myles was a little annoying, a little gross, but he was clearly obsessed with her - a trait she found quite enjoyable and sometimes even useful in people.

"Perfect. Well, let's talk then. I don't suppose you've met my Palmier yet." She didn't need to tug on the leash for the pet to do her thing, bowing so far down that her forehead touched the floor.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," she said softly, and Saccharine smiled. What a perfect thing she'd created from that atrocious first draft of a woman.

Myles' eyes went wide with shock. "Don't tell me- that's another new one! I swear, every time I see you, you've got a new pet to show off!"

"Oh, we barely see each other! What, once every six months?"

"Don't tell me you think fully training a pet in half a year isn't impressive." He crouched down and said his own hello, grabbing the pet by the chin as soon as she straightened her back enough. There was no resistance as he turned her head this way and that, examining the smooth skin. Not a scar visible. "How do you do it?" he asked in awe, and Saccharine chuckled.

"I would never tell." Myles was good for this. Flattery and adoration. "Get off the floor, they'll think you're a pet too. You'll get a collar soon, I can already see security approaching."

"Very funny." He did stand, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile, no matter how hard he tried to fight against it. "Shall we go in, then?"

"I was certainly hoping we wouldn't be standing around here forever."

As soon as she started walking, the pet followed, crawling on all fours like she'd been taught. Saccharine kept the pace even and elegant, allowing the pet to keep up, yet not giving the impression that she was catering to her.

"Are you selling it?"

"Her." She cast him a warning glance, and he looked away, pretending to be looking for empty seats.

"That's what I meant," he said when it was clear the conversation wasn't going to go anywhere until he made some form of a correction. "Are you selling her?"

"Yes, I plan to. These shows are the best places to do it." She strolled over to an empty table, tying the leash to the designated little knob on the side. Myles sat down as well, resting his chin in his hand.

"What about the one you kept? Still got i- him, still got him?"

"We had to part ways, sadly." Saccharine gestured for one of the waiters, ordering one of the more expensive drinks. She saw Myles awkwardly scan the menu over and over to find something he could afford, so she couldn't just stick with some cheap imitation of a cocktail. She had to go all out, to make him squirm. To make him feel like he didn't belong.

Eventually, he told the waiter to please come back a bit later. He'd figure out what he wanted then. Everything just looked so good, he couldn't choose so suddenly.

Saccharine almost laughed in his face as he said it.

"Why don't you keep your little Palmier?" He nodded towards the pet, and she sighed.

"I don't like her that much. She'll be happy with another owner, and I'll be happy alone for a little while. One has to be able to enjoy one's own company."

"I bet you do," he muttered.

And I bet you have no idea what that's like. Has anyone ever enjoyed your company?

"What's going on with you?" she asked, knowing the answer was going to be the same as always.

"I can't find a place that thinks I'm a good enough partner in crime. But I don't get it- I have all this experience, I make all these connections at the shows-"

You make all these impressions on these rich fuckers, fumbling around with a menu for hours until you can find some cheap, three dollar wine. Always showing up without a pet and never buying anything. You've worn the same suit the last six times at the very least. You think they don't notice?

"I wouldn't want a partner in my business."

"You're different." He gestured towards the others before continuing in a lowered voice. "You're better. Compared to you, they have no idea what they're doing. It's only a matter of time before they get caught, and that's why they should hire a partner! To help avoid that!"

To snitch on them when they inevitably get caught sooner. Come on, Myles, you wouldn't survive a day, and we both know it. We all do.

"You'll have to start a business on your own eventually. You can't keep living on these loans." She thanked the waiter as he set down her drink, watching passively as he finally ordered the cheapest item off the entire menu. She wanted to stand up and leave. How embarrassing. "Once you're in these circles, you're either the buyer, the seller, or the product. You're definitely not buying anything any time soon. Which leaves you with two options."

He responded, said something irrelevant, but she only registered it as background noise. It did leave him with two options. And just as he wasn't about to buy anything, he wasn't in a place to be selling stuff either. It left him with one option.

She looked him up and down with fresh eyes, and for the first time, she saw potential. He was a disgusting smoker, but he wouldn't have a single chance to continue with that. He was annoying, but there was nothing a muzzle couldn't solve. She wished she hadn't been joking about the security staff earlier - if Myles had been mistaken for a pet and fitted with a temporary collar, she could've even seen how it'd look on him.

"I'm boring you again, aren't I?"

Saccharine looked back up into his eyes, her friendly smile widening. "Not at all. I haven't been this interested in quite a while, actually."

#sweet as sugar #saccharine #lady whump #pet whump #myles/biscuit

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thewritersaddictions · 2 years

Text

Request: Eddie Munson- Strings

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Punk!Reader

POV: Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Fluff, friends to lovers, one-night Standish, after band practice, drinking,

Summary: Eddie has an idea for the best night after band practice!

WC- 4.2k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers This is a request, for anon.

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“We’ll be done with practice in just a few minutes, okay Y/n.” Eddie said as I continued to venture through the loads of half assed laundry. To contiune my wandering through all of his things in that garage.

The band went on their mary way, playing whatever came to their minds. I heard Eddie from the depths of the dank garage say something to Gareth about how they needed to pack up. “Get your shit packed up guys, I’m in a hurry.” Eddie stated.

I heard the clanging of drums and the strings of Eddies guitar as he placed it down. “You coming out of the depths, Y/n?” He yelled. I smiled inward coming out from the darkness of the garages corner. When I made my way out Eddie was standing out with is hand extended out.

“Here you go m’lady.” He said in a cheeky voice, a soft set of features. He was sweaty due to all of the movement and long playing of his fingers on the strings of his guitar. But still I took his large and oddly soft hand into my own for support as I climbed over boxes, and other miscellaneous things.

“Thahnk you sir.” I said. Eddie let go of my hand and a cool wave of air washed over them, along with the way my heart fluttered as he released my hand. It left a sort of tingling sensation all over my body. Even if it was just for a few seconds of him holding my hand.

“So what the plan?” I asked Eddie, as we walked towards his van. “Well I was thinking of driving you home since I can only imagine you’re tired of listening to me and my annoying music.” Eddie declared hopping to the van. He was always and forever teasing himself over the things he enjoyed. I don’t know why? It was serious question maybe because he was called the freak of the town, or maybe because he walked around with me.

I wasn’t called the freak of the town but nobody stayed around me long enough to say anything nice. I had what I considered to be the best hair style of the now. A rockin mohawk dyed with colors that you’d never see Chrissy Cunningham wear. I had a few piercing on my lips, nose, and brow the shinning metal kep assholes like Jason Carver away along with tattoos most that matched Eddies.

“Be annoyed of you Munson?” I said in a questioning matter. I jumped up into the van the seats were torn but that didn’t matter not to me at least. “I dont think that would ever be possible.” I laughed a little at the thought. This was the boy I had spent my entire high school career around. At this point Eddie and I were the best we had for each other. “So is that a no?” Eddie asked.

I looked over at him from the dirty window. “That’s a no Munson. Take me to listen to more annoying music.” I screamed. Eddie just laughed, his wide smile and head thrown back made me warm inside. He was always so happy. Well nowadays he was, he’d grown into this. When we were in high school I never saw this side of him. The side that was happy about life wanted something more from it. He wasn’t happy in that prison they called school.

Eddie started the engine and he drove us back to his trailer. On the way he descroved a better plan for what he wanted to do with the rest of our long day together. “So I was thinking, since my uncle will be gone for work after he leaves why don’t we spend the rest of the night drinking and watching old movies. Maybe some westerns that I’m renting from Family Video?” Eddie said.

I looked over at him an expression of confusion. “Why the westerns?” I asked. “Because why not westerns.” Eddie come back with. I held my hands up in defense,”Don’t knock it before your try it.” Eddie said as we pulled up to his trailer. “I’ll be sure to remember that then.” I said to myself. I was quick to get out the van. Eddie didn’t comment of my manuver to get out of the van as wuick as I did, but rather slid out of his seat like an idoit.

“What’s taking you so long Musnon?” I yelled from his trailers door. He yelled back “I think my legs are broken!” I paused at the top of the small patio. “Munson are you for fucking real right now?” I yelled back, I turned my back, I had a key.

Eddie had given it to me after I gotten into a bad fight with my mom one night about my and I qoute ‘innaporitate life style’ I rumaged through my bag, not bothering to say another word to the chaotic mess going on out in the van. What I wasn’t ready for was fir Eddie to sneak up behind and scared the living day lights out of me.

“Boo!” Eddie yelled from just behind me. My heart felt like it was going to explode as Eddie giggled like a five year old. “What the fuck Eddie!?” As I covered my chest with my hand. Eddie giggled as he spoke “I was.. I was trying to get you to come to the car so I could.. So I could scare you but you left me with no choice.” Eddie said.

The door then slammed open, the side of the door hitting Eddie in the chest. His uncle was standing there. A cigarette loose in lips, and a beer in his hand. “What are you to numbnuts doing?” He asked. Eddie and I just looked at each other and started laughing together. Wayne just rolled his eyes and pushed the two of us into the cooler air.

If Wayne didn’t know any better he might have thought we were already drunk, but the way Eddie straighten up when Wayne began to fuss about grabbing his work shirt, and his keys. “Now the two of you don’t be gettin’ to trouble. I know guys are adults so…” Wayne said as he looked between the two of us. I smiled and nodded my head. An arched brow was what Eddie received before Wayne left way to early for his job.

“Why the hell is never mean to you?!” Eddie said with a dumbfounded expression. My lips curling inward, I looked over at Eddie. Those brown eyes were just staring at me like the had the answers to all of his darkest and deepest secrets. “I don’t know Eds.” “Yeah, yeah I hear it every time from you. I think Uncle Wayne just likes you more then me!” Eddie fussed as he walked into the small kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Here take it, I’m grabbing that movie and I wanna forget about todays horrible band pratice.” Eddie said as he went off into the darkness of the end of the trailer to find his precious western movies.

I sat and twisting the cap off the wide budwiser. The first sip tasted off fizzy for the sip, but hey when you’ve been invited to enough harrington partys the beer doesn’t really ever taste like anything. I could hear the distant rambles, and curses falling from Eddies lips. My mind thought about how Wayne had given Eds that arched brow of distant and warning. I wonder what that’s truly was regarding to?

“Fucking yeah” I heard Eddie scream from the end of the trailer. “Imma assume that’s a scream of victory?” I questioned him. “Hell yeah I found my favorite. Now the tape maybe fucked up but I don’t care.” Eddie said as he finally walked back into the main part of the trailer. He slipped the VHS in and the TV cranked on. “I couldn’t have guessed which one did you pick Eds?” I poked at Eddies side.

“Fucking One-eyed Jacks” Eddie said… more like he screamed it. “Eddie…” i said he looked over at me. “What!” He looked so wounded and like I was being a traitor. I rolled my eyes, and brought the beer up to my lips. According to Eddie the movie was a classic, but we’d watch it so many times that I can sadly say that Eddie and I tougether knew every single line within the movie.

Eddie would never say that his favorite actor of all time was Marlon Brando in front of anyone other his uncle and I, but that was the truth Eddie was sucker for westerns. My mohawk was started to fall down the few hair towards the front of my face bothering my skin. I was going crossed-eyed as I continued to fucked with the damn hairs bothering my face.

Over the two hours that the movie lasted Eddie and I had gone through at least a few beers. To be exact in the fridge there was only about two beers left. Wayne would be pissed that we drank all of his beer, but proud that we hadn’t done so outside of the trailer.

Eddie also within this whole process had inched closer and closer to me. Not like we weren’t always close, but this was different. Drunk Eddie was a touchy, feely person wanted to touch and be right next up to you whenever he got the chance. So tonight made no difference, but the beer that gave it a different feeling all together.

It wasn’t until the end of the movie that Eddie and I had our bodies so close together that when he got up to take the VHS out that I was at a lost of warmth. I whined a little, and Eddie looked over a sense of rejuvenation flooded over Eddie’s face. The beer had made both of us loopy but Eddie it had barely hit the tip of the iceberg. Nothing hit him like the weed did.

“You doing okay, Y/n” Eddie finally asked me after what felt like a century of him just staring at me. There was a warm feeling at the pit of my stomach as I watched Eddies eyes scan over my body. Down from the eyes, to the top of my shoulder, even down to the fuzzy socks I’d left on. I smiled, falling forward into Eddies words. A whimpering and quiet “I’m all good Eds.” I said before falling back my head hitting the back of the couch.

I watched Eddie pick up the many beers that had made their home for the short time on the small coffee table. His rings clicking when they hit the beer cans. I watched him walk away from a sort of grace and power behind every step even if he slightly buzzed.There was something so addictive about him. The power he withheld from his daily and out-side life came to life here inside the four walls of the trailer.

“Y/n?” Eddie said as he walked back into the living space. “Do you want to stay the night? Of course I have to clean up for when uncle Wayne gets home later on.” Eddie said rambling on. I could feel the hotness in my face grow, the only thing saving me was the fact that Eddie had turned down the lights when he started his movie.

“Yeah I can stay, it’s not like my parents don’t know where I am.. If they cared to know where I was that is.” I said, smiling up at him through my eye-lashes. Eddie reached his hand out. There was this sparky feeling when our hands touched at least for me. He was so soft, and his hands were no different.

Eddie lead me back to his room. Our hands staying together. I hadn’t tought I’d be staying the night at his house, or even staying with him as long as I already had. He dropped my hand, and I couldn’t help the sadness I felt creep onto my face. Eddie didn’t nptice as he dug around his draws for something to what I assumed was to give me.

“I figure you probably didn’t bring anything else.” Eddie said pulling out what I could only see was a hellfire club shirt. “Here you go” He said handing me the clothes. I was given privacy and I got dressed, throwing my own clothes into a small pile before stripping down to just my panties. I figured that the shirt was going to be long enough and big enough on me nothing would be to exposed.

I was right.

After what felt like ages waiting for Eddie to be ready to go to sleep I was just waiting around. I dug through some of the what look liked uncle Wayne records. As I glided my fingers over the tops I saw ‘Johnny Cash, James Brown, and Elvis Presley’ Some of which I bet just skimmed the top of Waynes collection. I was kneeling and I could feel the cold breeze hit my bare skin.

“What are you doing?” I heard Eddie ask, and I tugged down the shirt. “Just browsing your uncles collection.” I stated, as I stood up. His hair was slightly damp and he was only wearing a pair of sweats. Eddie wasn’t concerned with keeping myself muscular but he did have the smallest imprint of a six pack. His curls still visible within the damp hair.

I’d neer seen him like that. Honestly we’d never seen each other like this before. We’d had spent time together, gone to pools when they were closed, jumped fences, swam in lakes that we probably shouldn’t have swam in. “So what do you want to do?” He asked me with a sort of glint behind those eyes of his.

An arched brow, a second thought later. I teased him “Well Eds what is it that you want to do?” I asked. He smiled, and came closer to me. “I will say if you weren’t such a good friend to me I would take my shirt off of you and fuck you right here, right now.” Eddie said,the shiver that came down my spine.

“What if I didn’t just have to be your good friend anymore?” I asked testing the waters as I inched forward into Eds space. Eddie was taller then me by a few inches, but even those few inches gave the look he gave me a darker sense behind them.

“What if that’s what I wanted?” Eddie asked, inching forward. I swallowed, “Then.. just take what you want Eds” I answered. He hesitated, and I couldn’t help but bite my lip. I gave everything I had, and took the last few inches of space between us and kissed Eddie.

We were friends before and now we are something else. The line had been crossed many times but it was more like a line in the sand easily forgotten and easily redrawn. But this line, this line couldn’t be easresd, couldn’t be redrawn. It was like a crack in the ground like the ground had spilt in half.

I felt Eddies arm wrap sound my waist and his other hand find it’s place behind my neck. Our lips coming together in a great feeling. Those sparks of passion and love fell from the both of us. Eddie back out of the kiss, looking down at me “Are you sure? Because there’s no going back from this after we do this.” Eddie questioned.

I shook my head, and went back into kiss him. Again our lips moving in unison. He didn’t tell me to jump I just did, and he caught me. I felt us move as we continued to kiss, and nip at each other lips. His tounge making it into my mouth. Our tongues fighting for what felt like dominance but when my back hit a wall I gave up and let him win. Pushing me into the wall gave him more access.

“You turn your sweet little head of yours.” Eds said and I gave in without hesitance. His lips were suckling at my taught skin of my neck. I could feel the little scraps of his teeth as he licked and bit softly at my skin. I wouldn’t help but moan softly into his ear, as he used the wall for support while rutting into me.

The shirt and panties were the only thing that were in the way. The softness of Eddies sweats was the only friction I had on my soaked and sensitive core.Our bodies were pushed agasint each other, and Eddie wasn’t giving up until I was properly purple and bruises with enough hickies. When Eddie was proud of his work he came up for a short breathe of air.

“You look so pretty in this shirt of mine, so pretty with all these hickies. All over that pretty skin on yours Y/n” Eddie said as he bushed his finger tip lightly over the bruised flesh. “Eddie please.” I begged with him, he was taking his time with me, and he was dragging everything on. “Eds.” I said quietly. “Eds just take me to your bedroom please.” I begged with him even more. He kissed me slowly and with purpose. Eddie left my lips and brought his arms under my ass, pulling me up further. Releasing me from the wall, and finally taking me to the bed.

He kicked the door for privacy which I was gratefully for. Then dropped me onto the bed. The bounce that was caused went throughout my body. My shoulder, tits, down my thighs and I even felt it in my ass. Eddies eyes were trained on me, his eyes scanning down my body. I went to huddle into myself, but Eddie was quick to grab my legs and pull me to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t you hide youreself from me miss Y/n, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever encountered.” Eddie said as he came down around me. His elbows framing my upper body, and his legs stationed inbetween mine. I was caged in, it felt so submissive. So freeing.

He kisses me lightly as he glids one of his hands down my arm and under his shirt. His fingertips just barely graze over my skin. When his hand reach right under my tit, he can’t the smile that grows on his dark features. “So comfy with me that you’ll go barless I see.” Eddie says giving me no time to think as he grips my tit with a soft-hardness. He squeezes, massages and plas with my perky nipple before his other hand reaches under the fabric ripping it off my of body.

“Eds, you ruined the shirt.” I try to say as the warmth starts to leave my tit. “Yeah I don’t really care, I’m about to ruin you though.” Eddie says very matter-of-factly. My eyes go wide as I realize that the cold air is because I’m completely open to Eddie beside my panties. Even that doesn’t last long as Eddie leans forward starting with a few kisses on my chest between the valley of my tits. From kisses to licks to bites, to his suckling at my taught nipple. My hand has a mind of it’s own as it finds it’s way up to Eddies long air the curls getting tangled but I don’t bother, the more I tug at his hair the more he sucks, and nips at them.

I feel like I can’t breath, Eddies got me so wound up. I can’t help but drag my legs up his body and close him in around me. I push him towards him, I can feel his hard cock within the thin fabric of the sweats. I feel him buck and moan into my flesh. I grab at his hair again and push him off my sore nipple. The skin redden by his torment. His eyes were wide, so wide they couldn’t even be called brown anymore just black. I could feel him losing control. His large stature leaning back over me.

“You want me to take these off, Y/n?” Eddie asks in a sultry tone as looks down at my almost exposed body. I shake my head without giving a answer, but nothing happens. “You should be using your words love.” He says. “Fuck, yeah. Take them off, I don’t care rip them apart but just fuck me Eds.” I beg, my neck feel sticky with sweat and frustration that’s running through my body.

“At least you gave me permission to rip something apart this time.” Eddie says, as he pulls my panties up my legs. My ankles sitting on his shoulders by the time my panties go flying. “Fuck look at you.. All soaked and wet. Is that all for me?” Eddie teases, I go to roll my eyes, but the way he’s looking at me catches my eye. It’s powerful and loving all in the same thing.

I reach my hand down my body dragging it down the side of my tits, and all the way to my hips. “This is all for you Eds and for so damn long.” I whimper as I go to tease my clit, but my hand get’s slapped away. “Don’t you dare touch yourself!” He says an arch brow giving the seriousness behind his words. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to stand up by yourself.” He says. He’s quick to hop off the bed and strip down, throwing sweats and boxers to the same direction as my soaked panties.

His cock hits his belly. The tip glistens with his pre-cum. His cock is huge and I stare long enough for Eddie to notice. Concern wipes over his face for only a second. “It will be oka,baby. I’ve got you.” He says lovely, as he climbs back up the bed, and back between my legs. My thighs are already burning but it’s a good type of burning.

He lines himself up at my core gathers my wetness and teases my clit and core. “Don’t.. Eds please don’t tease me all night.” I murmur. The tenstions are getting higher and all I want is for him to sink into me and make everyhting right. He does after he ignores my pleas. Eddies cock start to sink into my core, and all that can be heard are the wet noises coming from my core as he sleeves himself in. “God you’re so tight Y/n. Jesus, maybe I should work you first. Loosen you up first.” He banters with himself, but I give him no other choice as I wrap my legs around his wasit and pull him the rest of the way it’s painful the first few seconds, but that pain turns into passion, and addiction.

“Fuck, Y/n. You can’t just do that type of shit.” He says but he can’t help thursting into and out of my core. The warmth his cock gives off is such a good feeling as I crave it more. The more Eddie pulls up the more and harder I push him back with my legs around his wasit.

His hands start to glid up my wasit one landing on my tit. He squeezes harder then before my nipple between ending up between to fingers as he plays with it. “Fuck Eds.” I manage to babble out, with every thrust his hand works my tit, and then there’s another sensation. Hiks thumbs is rubbing figure-eights into my swollen clit. I arch my back and Eddies hand stays on my tit. “Eds, you’re gonna make me.. Gonna make me cum baby.” I get out through rough breathes. “You gonna cum already?” He questions as he thrust even harder into me and starts to pinch my clit.

I don’t answer, my vision is starting to go blurry. “You gonna cum all over my cock baby? You wanna I know you do. That’s okay I teased you enough for you to bursting at your seams. I whimper as he don’t stop torturing my clit. “YOu can cum Y/n, it’s okay I’m soon behind you.” I can’t help but let go, my eyes go cross and everything goes white. I don’t hear Eddie chant my name as he cums deep in my core.

I don’t even feel his weight fall of my sweaty dirty feeling body. I just sit in the complete bliss he has caused me. “Y/n? Y/n?, Baby?” I hear finally. “Eds?” I answer bacl, “Good you’re still here with me” He says honestly. He rolls over his weight leaving my body. I heard the door open real quick and then the door opens. When I feel the wet cloth press against my core it stings, but Eddie sushes me. “I’m here baby. I’m just taking care of you.” He says. He wipes at my core cleaning up the mess we’d made together.

He also hears him start to dig around his draw again. “That’s good” i listen to him say to himself. He gets back on the bed, his sweats touching my hot skin. “Here get up for me real quick.” I look over at him, and he has another shirt in his hand. An Metallica shirt. I humm letting him take care of me and my sore body.

Completed on: August 31st, 2022

Posted on: August 31st, 2022

The Adults-

#eddie munson x original character #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #smut #fem reader #female reader #strangers things #fluff #stranger things x you #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things

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anxiouslittlepossum · 2 years

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03 3 03 3 03 3

part 3

so why are these guys apart of fight club

i bet the guy flying the parachute plain is like “im so cool ive got bags in front of my face is the planet close yet?”

dooku why are you talking to nuns

yes i also want a croc duel wielding swords that will be cut in half by the jedi in ten seconds 10/10 idea

honestly though crocy gave me some vague greek mythology vibes but i cant remember a myth applicable to him right now

spear guy just hops over the droid and suddenly the droid is spitting milk???

my dude you didn’t even do anything you just played leapfrog with a faulty hunk of metal quit acting like youre cool youre not

mister nun please go to the dentist your teeth are about to saw eachother out of your mouth

oh shit who's the grim reaper pretending to be the nun

VENTRESS????????

megaman over here forgot to turn off friendly fire everyone point and laugh

my guy got his cupcake chopped and strait up died. whimp. loser. the ARCs would never.

yes take a bow queen take a bow

my guy just says no little girl your not sith and ascends

tell him like it is bitch don’t let the 1% tell you what to do

nevermind, hes got tasers

ah yes kidnapping your new daughter after the first round of torture. and you wonder why Rael never calls you

ah yes throwing your kid in a lake and then criticizing them when they drown

hello palpapiss it is horrible to see you again

i guess the position of chancellor doesnt come with a good dental plan

did a jedi take away candy from you as a child what is your problem here supreme fucko

WHY ARE YOU GUYS NOW USING JAVELINS WHAT IS THIS THE RENAISSANCE

YALL HAVE GUNS YALL HAVE CANNONS YALL HAVE GERNADES

USE THEM

alright fine it looks cool i get it

im not ashamed to admit that kenobi fooled me. that was slick as hell

and now hes dead via metal sucker punch to everywhere

guy is still going with a laser sword through his chest like okay no need to flex we get it your awesome

why is he full of worms

of course hes still alive we didn’t get to see his face yet, nor his full power

honestly he is such a sore loser

motorcycle half way up the building fly the rest the troops dont even blink

theyre just staring like sir could you please be a little less dramatic thank you

commander is just like pls dont touch me sir

oh good these clowns again

and we descend like the theater nerds we are led by

boomerang lightsaber. alrighty then

shoot this whimp shoot him kill the banker

YES THE ROCKET LAUNCHER GO MR ARC GO

chads. legends. kings.

ive heard enough about anime to know where this is going

ew its slimy

he just snapped the table in half. dude. that was their toy train set. you ruined it

nooo the troopers

and he just swallowed kenobi. thats gross.

yes commander ARC going in with the taser epic legendary dooku could never

NO DONT KILL HIM

and kenobi just made him burst. now his slime is everywhere couldn’t you have tried to keep it clean?

back to flying in space with a constipated anakin. yay.

why are we playing tag?

and why does anakins chin suddenly look like its three miles long

no need to be mean to the troops jeeze

yay fireworks

did that bb1 just wave that is so cute

i guess you could say this ship is a huge fan

seriously thats all it is who designed this thing

okay mr hero complex

#clone wars #clone wars 2003 #arc troopers #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars #asajj ventress #count dooku #sheev palpatine #starwars #having some serious fun with all of this

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c0smiccom3t · 10 months

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Ryonna Tag team racing quotes part 2!

Missions [Costume] - "Could you get one for me too? If i wanna show off im a master of stealth business, i want to look like i am that, too!" - "Yeah i'm sure it won't be too big when you put in on, sir." - "AGAIN, BRAT-ICOOT?!" - "This is getting us nowhere. Sir, perhaps would it be better if i went to fetched those things myself?" - "Oh-kay..." - "JUST GET ON WITH IT, OR YOU'RE GONNA SAY HI TO STARGAZER, TOO!" - "Finally." - "Yeah, keep it for yourself, you deserved it." [Mission 1] - "Yeah, could you? That'd really pay off and your sister would be impressed, if you ask me." - "Good luck! ...and make it quick." - "Master, calm down!! Maybe he just needed some clues to where that set is! ...Please hurry before he has another tantrum, he skipped his beauty sleep today." [nervous laugh] - "Yeah, you don't want to be known as 'the worst big brother in the world' now, do you?" - "We told you, brat-icoot, just BRING THAT GEAR!" - "Congrats, you played yourself. Hope you enjoy your demise! See you on the race track! Heheheheh, sucker." [Mission 2] - "Dont you mean 'weapon of mass de-- OW!" - "Okay, okay, you're right, sir!" - "That'd be so helpful, indeed! ...No pun intended, by the way. Now get moving!" - "Yeah, come back to us once you did get those crystals, bucko!" - "Yeah. Things take time. But honestly, you got to hurry. so get a move on!" - "These gamers are such a predictable bother nowadays, it's exhausting really." - "See you there, brat-icoot. C'mon m'lord, let's show him!" [When Cortex is interacting with Crash] - "Sir, he doesn't play with train tra--... F-forget what I said." - "Ooo-hohohoho! This is gonna be fun to watch, sorry brat-icoot.... not!" - "Oh and please. be careful with that. I heard wood chippers are a little... Spiky." *deep giggles* - "Not as good as when i hit the gym though. I got THAT superstrenght, baby! ...Though the actual egocentrist here is my boss, anyway." - "Yes, now how about you get lo-- I mean... explore around and have a good time?" - "I'm telling you sir, maybe you should get your mind off him with a nice, delicious churro-- OH HI BRAT-ICOOT, WHATS UP!" - "Get lost twerp, we're busy!" - "Yeah, it's best served cold too. Or is it served hot...? Whatever." - "Ugh, you Brat-icoots are so annoying... Just let us have some peace, for my boss' sake!" [When interacting with Crash] "What do you want, Brat-icoot? Im trying to reflect on my life's mistakes here." "You may ask... How did I become Cortex's racing partner...? Well uh.. It's a funny story. But i think it was after i asked you if i could join you since i didn't have a car and Von Clutch says I 'Can't drive vell'. The nerve!" "God, i hate my life-- Oh, Crash! Didn't see you there! Now get lost before I PUNT YOU!" "I wish Dingodile was in this game... Ooh! Maybe he's in the crowd?? I bet he loves the way i roll..." [sighs dreamily] "Huh? ...AGHH!! FORGET WHAT I SAID, BRAT-ICOOT!" "Yes sir, i got it, foot massage at half-past thirty right after dinner, and bedtime storytime at 9 o'clock sharp, noted. Later." [Hungs up the phone and then Notices crash infront of her] "Uhh... You heard nothing. I was just having a chitchat on the phone." "Crash, I know i'm not supposed to say this. But thank god my boss isn't here so... Keep this between us for a minute before he finds out..." [Inhale] "He sucks his thumb in his sleep and apparently when stressed he uses my tail as a security blankie while HE STILL HAS HIS OWN IN HIS POCKET! Even though sometimes it's in the wash... There, just keep this between us. And his snoring, UGH! Okay... I said too much. Go on with your little tralala trip now." "Don't mind me, i'm just getting churros for me, Nina, N. Gin and the boss. You know just because i'm a villain, that doesn't mean i dont share my food with my coworker, godchild and partner in crime." "Oh Crash, I need your help. Boss left his stuffed bear in those gears. Mind getting it for me before he goes on a tantrum during bedtime?" "Go away before i punch you through your skull, brat-icoot. I'm really busy here."

#crash bandicoot oc #crash bandicoot #crash tag team racing #ryonna #quotes #they're so funny lmao.#ill drop some lore after all of the quotes are shared. NOW. pool time :D #laters!

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enbyeddiediaz · 3 years

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am I writing a whole ass paper on why I'm 95% sure I have adhd? yes. is it already 35 pages long bc I'm incapable of shutting the fuck up? also yes. is this still the only way I think my parents will take me seriously even tho my family has a history of adhd? you guessed it, yes.

#i feel like the length of the paper and the fact that i wrote most of it in three sittings speaks for itself #if the fact that i sat here for several hours over the course of three days to write this instead of doing literally anything else doesn't.#...say something i don't know what will #also im pretty sure my mom has adhd too so ive really just played both of us #spare diagnoses good sir 🤲🥺#i talked for a page and a half about star trek and alien anatomy when i started talking abt my special interests and hyperfixations #i forgot where i was going with these tags #um have a good day i love you #unless youre a trumpie or a terf or a truscum then you can have a bad day and i dont like you #where was i going with this #oh yeah #adhd feels #adhd #adhd brain #afab struggles #i should be doing school work #adhd strikes again #adhd shit #also im only like halfway done with the paper

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tenshindon · 3 years

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tien :)

#snap chats #no i didnt bounce around episodes for like half an hour shut up #anyway <3 #i was watching the japanese dub and 😔#ok but like i keep teasing at this but i really should compare his old va to his new va #like you dont htink its too different until you listen to it back to back #ok maybe its not THAT different but its different enough to me for me to notice it #back to my General Bullshit tho 😔#hm :)#i do like how he sound 😔#it been a while and i legally have to remind everyone i really like his voice in japanese #i really do love the japanese performances i say that a lot but like #i feel like no one talks about them enough #or if they do its usually to diss on goku's va which >:( not good <:(#both dubs are good i really dont have a preference when it comes to performances #scripts however-- ok even thats like a base-by-base situation #tho ig overall i like the japanese script more??? sometimes- again its very base-by-base for me #this post is clickbait yall thought i would use all 30 of my tags to be on That Bullshit about tien's voice again #no sir i'm just talking about va performances and preferences again lmaoooo #anyway bye bye :) might play heroes dunno i been sayin that all day <3

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titsuya · 3 years

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i was reading your newest work on hq boys moans, and i saw you said you have a list of the horsecocks of haikyuu. would you mind sharing said list? i’m kinda (i mean very) curious 🤍

hey angel ! i’m so glad you asked :D

warning: dick talk <3, mentions of breeding and creampies and cum eating and just cum in general, u might think im on crack while reading this

my top 10 biggest dicks of HQ going from big to bigger to biggest to LITERAL HORSECOCK (with my very good reasoning):

big dick energy plays into this a lot

coming in at TENTH, we have:

OIKAWA TOORU big

reason: he has big pretty dick energy. it’s kinda skinny but i hc it to be fucking LONG !!! literally look at his fingers ?? they’re huge 😩 tooru’s pretty dick is long enough to give ur cervix some soft kisses <3

in NINTH place:

KUROO TETSURO big

reason: something about him gives off big dick energy. maybe its the way he could probably recite the periodic table, but it’s big. like average girth, but his is long too AND slightly angled and hits the g spot v well. and it’s lowkey kinda pretty too <333 he just knows what he’s doing ++ timeskip him is hot as fuck, literally has a sir & daddy kink bc of his job

SEVENTH and EIGHTH are tied:

SAKUSA KIYOOMI & MIYA ATSUMU bigger

reason: THE ONLY REASON IS BECAUSE THIS IS MY PERFECT TAG TEAM LIKE I WANT TO GET RAILED BY BOTH OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME AND THEYRE PRETTY COMPETITIVE ME THINKS SO I FEEL LIKE THEYD BOTH JUST BE THE SAME SIZE.. HHHHHH SAKUSA HAS PRETTY DICK & HIS CUM TASTES BETTER BUT TSUMU HAS PRETTY BALLS AND NICE VEINS AND HIS CUM IS THICK SO IT FEELS RLLY GOOD WHEN HE CUMS IN U <//////33333

SIXTH prize winner:

MIYA OSAMU bigger

reason: we all know that samu’s is like half an inch bigger than tsumu’s. but this man has fucking breeder balls that are just… so heavy. he also cums a lot. like A LOT. just loves to fucking drain them using your pussy. big tits, big man, man big dick. very thick, very nice. very much has a #breeding kink too. just thought i should throw that out there.

FIFTH place— honorable mention #2:

oh my god. oh fuck oh my god

IWAIZUMI HAJIME biggest

reason: daddy . you guys know what i mean, i literally have no words. fat cock, above average girth and length. just above average. holy fucking shit he’s so hot i cant even think about him without wanting to cream my pants.

FOURTH place— honorable mention #1:

BOKUTO KOUTAROU biggest

reason: ok, u might think that he should be in the top three, but kou’s SO CLOSE ! like dude his cock is really, really, REALLY fat. me thinks he has the girthiest of all my bby boys. it’s just not as long! no, but actually, my top 5 boys could probably make you cum just by putting their dick in you. BOKUTO ESPECIALLY THO ! also mans can last at least 3 rounds so you better believe he’s gonna fuck you good with his big cock

THIRD is the one with the hairy chest: grade school rhymes im sorry

SUNA FUCKING RINTARŌ horsecock <3

reason: guys i’m not biased, i swear ! think about time skip, pro volleyball player suna rintarō. my god that man. you might say “oh, hes so skinny—“ literally stfu im not arguing this. suna has a horsecock, too. prettiest fucking dick ever. tip always flushed red, prominent veins u can run your tongue over, feels really big in ur hands. my god rintarō split me in half rn.

taking the silver medal at SECOND place:

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI horsecockkkkk <33

reason: man. look at him. you dont need to show anyone his dick, you already know it’s literally huge. you’d probably break in half. he literally has to prep you to the max to take him. almost took first place tbh !

AND AT THE NUMBER ONE SPOT, WE HAVE THE ONE, THE ONLY:

MATSUKAWA ISSEI (everyone cheered) HORSE COCKKKKKKK <333333333

reason: y’all can argue everything else, but this ? im not taking criticism. THIS MF RIGHT HERE HAS THE BIGGEST FUCKING HORSECOCK ? LIKE I WISH I COULD EXPLAIN ???? it’s FAT ! IT HURTS HE CAN BARLEY GET IT IN. like guys. im screaming and crying. its veiny, girthy, long just BIG… omg my heart hurts. he has a size kink <//3

#— luv letters 💌#— luvanon #— 🔞#haikyuu smut #oikawa smut #kuroo smut #sakusa smut #atsumu smut #osamu smut #iwaizumi smut #bokuto smut #suna smut #ushijima smut #matsukawa smut

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intertwinedtears · 2 years

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may I request facesitting higuruma from jjk? or if you dont know him yet, atsumu and 28 "couple but y/n is the only one who things theyre just besties" kind of vibe?

i just caught up for jjk so let me give higuruma a try since i’ve done 28 with artem before heh

MDNI or i’ll break your clavicle

hiromi higuruma x fem!reader

tags: face sitting, oral (f!receiving), face riding, tiny bit of body worship

if there’s one thing higuruma loves after a long and stressful day of being a lawyer, it’s having to come home to you and your wondrous thighs.

even as you kiss his lips in greeting, the only thought running through his head is how much he’d like to just throw you onto the bed and put his face at the apex of your thighs.

his touch is gentle as he guides you into the privacy of his bedroom, shrugging off his jacket as he walks down the narrow corridor with you and lightly pushes you into the room.

he sees you press your thighs together, anticipation evident in your eyes as you stared at him with a certain kind of hunger.

“darling, you’ll make me feel better, won’t you?” he asks.

you nod your head in response and a higuruma smiles, eyes narrowing as he takes in the outfit you had on. he’s glad you’ve decided on wearing a skirt since it makes for easy access but as you turn and climb onto the bed on all-fours, he’s given a perfect view of your bare pussy, clenching and unclenching on nothing.

a low groan rumbles from within his chest as he joins you soon after, thick fingers slowly gliding up your legs as he takes his time admiring your skin and the heat emanating from your body.

“so naughty, strutting around in that short skirt with no panties on,” he chuckles as he swipes a finger against your folds. a moan falls from your lips at the sudden action, thighs trembling as you kept them spread.

“what if someone had seen?” higuruma’s voice hardens as he grips your thighs in warning.

the message behind his warning is clear, every inch of your body belongs to him and no one but him can see you like this.

“i’m sorry sir, i’ll be careful in the future,” you answer obediently as you grip onto the hems of your skirt, holding it up so your boyfriend could have an unobstructed view of what little the fabric covered.

your response sends shocks down his spine and to his cock as it strained against the confines of his pants, creating a sizeable bulge.

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, a hint of a smile appears on his lips as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “now, sit on my face.”

you oblige immediately, scooting away for higuruma to have space lie on the bed. as soon as he’s comfortable higuruma beckons you forward, palms facing up as he allows you to use his hands to steady yourself as you position your dripping cunt over his face.

“sit.”

his breath is ticklish but you pay it no mind as you lower yourself. you feel his nose, bumping into your clit then his smile as he nuzzles the space between your folds. the affection brings forth a heated blush to your cheeks.

you throw your head back as you feel higuruma’s tongue, flat and eager against your lower lips.

he easily finds your clit, tongue rolling around the hard nub. each of his groans send vibrates against your core, adding to the pleasure as you feel your thighs tremble with effort to hold you up.

you’re forced to grab hold of the headboard as higuruma tugs his hands away sharply, barely holding yourself up as you fall forward from the sudden action.

his hands finds your hips immediately, holding it in place as he speaks.

“when i say sit, you sit.”

you’re not given any time to respond as he pushes your hips down, forcing you to rest your entire weight on his face.

“h-higuruma!” you cry out as he lands a harsh spank on your ass. your hand leaves the headboard to find his hair, threading your fingers through it.

you begin to grind down on him, clit bumping into his nose as you coat the lower half of his face with your arousal.

higuruma continues to lick and suck, teasing your entrance with his skilled tongue. his moans muffled by your wet heat as your thighs tighten around his head.

your moans fall from your lips in a staccato as you’re brought closer and closer to release. your legs feel weak but with higuruma keeping you steady with his hands kneading at the flesh of your waist, you’re kept mostly upright as you cum all over his face.

pulling away, you’re met with a dazed smile from higuruma, lips and chin shiny with slick.

your slick.

request here !

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #[☁️] — jujutsu kaisen smut #[🌱] — touch some grass

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imma-queencard · 3 years

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I just wanna kiss! [Professor-student!]

Onew/Lee Jinki(SHINee)

Pairing: female reader X Onew

Genre: fluff,romance

Ratings/warnings: 13+

Taggings: @supermwritersnet , @elviinwonderland

A/N: This is the oneshot requested by me. Today(24.07.21) is my birthday so I decided to gift myself a piece of writing. Jinki has been my number1 bias in SHINee from 2013. I really hope one day I can meet him and ask for a photo and autograph! And this is the dumbeeeest and the looongest piece I've ever written.

"No-no-no!" you shook your head crossing your fingers.

"Miss,we are soon closing in..It's past 2 a.m...try to understand please-" the lady owner requested you knowing it would go in vain. She sighed seeing you resting your head on the table, "YAH!give me one more soju bottle! Please~"

"I really dont wanna throw this woman on the street... She looks so lovely..." the lady passed a comment to her husband when you kept giggling to yourself.

"But we have no choice left,right? Let's pick her up-" the husband suggested walking towards you to lift you up.

"Why aint you sending my soju bottle huh? I'm starving.. Look!" you hiccuped patting your tummy. Maybe trying to show that your stomach was empty?

"Yaaah!what!" you whined when two arms wrapped around your shoulder and made you stand up on your weak,wobbling legs.

"Shit! I dont think she can even walk!" the husband cursed as your legs gave in and your butt landed on the floor.

"Please~my soju soju soju bottle~" you kept singing and the couple started screaming in help.

Suddenly someone cleared his throat drawing enough attention of the owner couple and you.

"Sir,we are closing in..sorry!" the lady politely bowed showing the 'closed' sign hung on the wall.

"Um..I am aware of that...i was just passing by and heard some noises..I came to look if you need any help.." the couple watched him curiously as he scratched the back of his neck looking at your drunken state.

"this woman making a scene here too?oh my... She's really something.." Lee Jinki made sure to murmur to himself but his voice was enough audible to the couple. And their faces lit up with joy.

"Sir,do you know her?please sir take her away with you.... We dont wanna throw her on the street but we really need to shut down our shop.." the man almost begged Lee jinki. However,you were still singing your favourite soju song drawing stars in the air with your index finger.

"Me?" Lee Jinki's eyes widened in shock. Why would he take you?and where?

"Please sir I beg of you-" the woman dropped you on the floor to run towards Lee jinki and held his hands in hers, "please sir-" she pleaded desperately.

"Ah..okay....fine!' Lee Jinki announced looking at you making the couple happy. He walked to you and helped you stand on your feet.

"Miss Y/N,let's go.." he cooed and you furrowed looking at his face with your half opened eyes.

"Oh?you seeem sooo...where did I see you?" you asked pinching his cheek. He cursed under his breath as you pinched him hard. Your hands tightly gripped his shirt's collar while you used your weak legs to keep up your pace with him and he was holding you by your waist to balance your drunken body.

"Yeah!I remember you! Hahaha~ you are that dumb professor, right?who laughs for no reason! Wow~so foolish.." you giggled when he pushed you inside the back of his car.

"You want soju bottle too?that's so bad of you..because - I wont share my soju with you professor Leeeee!" you whined as he closed the door putting your legs inside the car.

"Shit!" he growled when he saw you kicking his car's door continually while shouting, "yaaah!grumpy ass!open that fucking door!" he closed his eyes in anger hearing you cursing out at him before slipping into the driver seat. You relaxed a bit seeing him hopping in. You didnt want to be alone and he wanted a soju bottle right? So, maybe he could share you some when he got his bottle. You giggled alone thinking how smart you were.

Lee jinki started the engine and drove his car off to another crowded street. His eyes relaxed a bit seeing you on the rare view mirror sitting on the back like a proper lady with your half opened eyes fixed on the street ahead.

"Where do you live anyway?" he asked politely when he pulled off his car on a red signal.

"Can you please answer?!" he almost yelled out breaking his gentle aura when you didnt reply. He was about to turn back and scold you for being such a pain in his ass. But he almost jumped in his seat as one of your hands traveled inside his shirt to fumble his abs. You stick out your tongue while running your palm over his abs.

"Yaaaah!" he screamed at the top of his lungs in horror. Grabbing your hand, he instantly took out your hand from inside of his shirt.

"Are you fucking insane!" he hissed throwing your hand away. He looked back at you and screamed, "what the hell were you even thinking!"

You pouted and replied,"stoooooop hiding my soooju bottle inside-you- your shirt. Give it to me...."

"What the- why will I hide your bottle- fuck-listen miss y/n, I dont have any soju,alright?" he spatted out and shifted his eyes to the street with a sigh. He steadied his breath holding the steering tight. He could still feel your palm sliding up and down over his chest.

"Fuck!" he cursed again looking at you through the rear view mirror before starting his car again.

"Oooh miss Y/N!can you at least behave?" he hissed placing you on his sofa closing the door behind. You giggled curling up into a ball on his sofa.

"Prof-professor Leee!Your buttons!" you giggled making his ears turn red in embarrassment.

"Opps!sorry~hahaha~not your buttons!..shirt's buttons are opened..look at... -there" you pointed to his chest. He scowled, "and you took proper advantage of that,miss Y/N, putting your hand inside my shirt!" He was still embarrassed with that situation.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" you furrowed at him, "st-stop taking advantage of a yo-young lady like mee!"

"Yaah!where are you -- going...?um?" you pouted seeing him going somewhere leaving you on the sofa. You were about to stand up with your wobbling legs to follow him but he came back quick with a glass and a bottle in his hands.

Lee Jinki poured a glass of water and handed it to you,"take it miss Y/N.."

"Soju?" you smiled like a happy kid grabbing the glass as if you had just received an award. He sighed, "yes,soju..." He saw you gulping down all the water in one go thinking it soju.

"Can-can you give me more soju,Professor? " you showed him your empty glass.

"No!" he rolled his eyes snatching his glass out of your grip. You furrowed, "you are a bad person,professor"

"I know..." he mouthed sarcastically and left for his bedroom followed by you. It was such a hectic day for him. And to make it the worst,he had to meet you at night in front of a bar. All he needed was now a long good sleep. He looked back displeased hearing your clumsy footsteps. He asked blocking the way of his bedroom,"why are you following me?"

You made a cute face and pouted, "I-I Don't know?Professor,you are reeaaally...a bad person..."

"I just wanna go home and have soju..." you whispered rubbing your cheeks. His eyes softened a bit, "come here..follow me." he led you back to the dining room again and helped you sit on the sofa.

"Sleep here,okay?I will get a blanket for you" he cooed and you absentmindedly moved your head not knowing what he was saying.

You curled up in the sofa waiting for him. He came back to you with a blanket in his hands.

"Here" he placed it on the sofa. "Make yourself comfortable with it,okay?" You didnt reply. You started singing your soju song instead. He sighed. You were fully wasted. He was about to leave for his bedroom but stopped in his track when you sat up on the sofa again and cooed "professor lee...?."

He knelt down in front of the sofa and shoved your body on the sofa to make you lay there. But you wiggled and sat up.

"I am-i am feeling dizzy..did-did you put drugs in my soooojuu!" you accused him pointing your finger at the wall. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. Never in his life someone accused him in that way.

"No."

"Dont ta-take advantage of a little-little girl like me" you mumbled softly as your head started spinning.

"I have no intention of doing that miss y/n.." he almost whispered looking at your way worriedly. He could tell you were about to faint.

"Good!" you showed him your teeth cheekily. He shook his head sighing.

"Professor-" you wrapped your arms around his neck making him almost jump. He carefully tried to take your hands off his neck but you were pulling him towards you more in every attempt he made to wiggle out.

"What-what are you doing...." he whispered with a gasp when you pulled his face closer to yours having his upper body almost hovering on the sofa. He gave another try to unwrap your arms but he couldnt. He gasped out loud as you spoke, "my friends say you are hoooooot..."

His cheeks flushed hearing those words. It wasnt that he had never heard despite of his gentleman aura. But it was the first time he was listening it from a student of his. Maybe they said but not in front of him..but this lady here...his ears turned red. However,he quickly regained himself.

"Miss y/n..you are drunk..just sleep" he said with a flustered face pushing you on the sofa.

"No!listen to me!" you nagged holding his face close to yours. His eyes traveled to your lips unconsciously. He bit his lower lip for a second before he forced his eyes focus on your half opened eyes.

"Can't you just sleep?" he almost moaned out. He was feeling hot and so..weird all of a sudden.

"My friends say you are vewwy hot-but-but I find you vewwwy cute-" you chuckled pinching his cheeks playfully.

"Um..is that all?now -ca-can you sleep?" he asked almost closing his eyes when your hot breath fell on his nose.

"Thanks for helping mefo--for giving me soju.." you smiled leaving his neck to fall back on the sofa. He blinked a couple of times?soju? Oh,water.

"You know you should say 'welcomeee' huh? Bad bad professor -no no manneeers!" you whined moving your palms over your head.

"Huh?..um...welcome.?" he murmured with red cheeks. He put the blanket over your body but you kicked it away. He sighed and put it again. In return,you again kicked it away.

"I dont need that-" you whined.

"It's already past 4. I have no time playing with you miss y/n..so if you co-operate.." he said strictly pulling over the blanket again. You pouted.

"Goodnight miss y/n.." he mumbled softly but you held his arm.

"What?I seriously need to sleep miss y/n-what!" his words got muffled when you got up and put your warm lips over his. It was barely for a minute.

"Good night~" you chirped in after giving him a quick kiss and pulled the blanket over your head leaving a frozen Lee Jinki kneeling in front of the sofa.

"She-she's crazy..." he whispered to himself touching his lips softly.

It had been exactly 13days since you created the most embarrassing scene of your whole life. When you woke up that morning,you actually remembered every single thing you did and said to him and so you just ran out of his apartment without bothering to inform him. You didnt know which part was more embarrassing.. Asking for his buttons or kissing him or putting your hand in his shirt touching his abs. You bit your lip. You stopped attending his classes for a week due to embarrassment. But sadly you had to attend those again. You would make sure not to have eye contact with him during his class despite feeling his occasional stares on you. Even you tried to remember how he tasted sometimes. However,your dull brain couldn’t make it right. So you were really pissed at this useless thing of yours.

You huffed when the bell rang. You quickly gathered your stuff and put them into your bag. You were almost on the edge of running away from his presence when he suddenly called out your name making everyone look at you in amusement. You hesitantly stole a glance at him under his intense stare on you.

"Miss y/n. Stay in a moment,please" he remarked clearing his throat before he started writing down his logbook. You nodded and waited for all the students to leave. Why did he call you suddenly? You were doing good avoiding him and him ignoring you. Sorry,staring at you. You sighed.

"Miss y/n?"

You rolled your eyes and walked up to his desk, "ye-yes professor?"

"Your grades in Applied Chemistry are dropping recently...and I have noticed that you have been skipping classes too-particularly mine...May I ask you for the reason?" he asked with his regular warm voice eyeing your every movement.

"No-no-reason.." you mumbled fidgeting with your fingers. You heard him sigh putting his glass on his desk.

"Look at me when I talk to you miss y/n.." he hissed in a husky voice. You shivered a little biting down your lip. You could bet no students had heard this voice of him except you.

"Yes professor?" you looked up to him blushing as you almost moaned out your last two words. He was wearing his as usual white shirt with a loose black tie hanging around his neck,first few buttons were wide opened but not enough to make it indecent. His calves were folded upto his elbows and his hair was neatly combed sidewards. He looked so decent yet so corrupted. Maybe into your eyes. You blushed again.

"You didn’t even inform me before leaving.You just disappeared from my apartment.. You know how freaked out was I that moment?you really did disappoint me with this irresponsible behaviour of yours miss y/n..I really expected better from you.." he said shaking his head in disappointment. You blushed. You wanted to recall everything but that incident. What did he expect me to do that morning? Get up and talk about the kiss?or maybe discussing 'his buttons' while having morning tea with him? You cursed him under your breath.

"Hm?miss y/n?"

"I- I was just-I am so sorry professor Lee" you bowed 90 degree, "I really caused you a lot of troubles... I am extremely sorry for that"

"That's true anyway..you were very...inappropriate that night,however..." he scratched his back of neck and quickly added, "May I know why you were ignoring me and my classes?You know we can always talk and settle this thing out ignoring your audacity that night....."

"Um-yeah yeah..." you blushed. God,isnt he the perfect boyfriend material you always wanted? You cursed your brain for thinking such...weird things about your young...okay,dashingly handsome young professor in such a complicated situation.

"Miss Y/n? Please do inform me whenever you are ready to talk about that.. I'll look forward to it. The last thing I want you is skipping classes and failing in my lectures because of that- indecent,silly reason." he chirped in putting his glass on.

Why cant you just avoid talking about that? You thought rolling your eyes.

"Um,may I take my leave,professor?"

"Well,yeah..and please concentrate on your study and ask me if you need any help on my lectures, I will be glad to provide you with tution anytime."

"Are you busy today?"

"Hm?" you dazed out of your thoughts looking at your young professor Lee Jinki.

"You look so tired so I decided to ask..I hope my lectures ain't causing you the headache you are currently having in...." he replied with his honey like smooth voice while writing notes on his next lecture.

"No-no,professor Lee..It's not yours...you are helping me a lot with yours actually..you even agreed on helping me after classes...thanks for that" you said blushing looking at your book. You wouldn’t lie you hadn’t developed a crush on him. It had been months since that incident and you two started spending academic times into his study.

"I requested you to call me Jinki instead.." he didnt bother looking at you. Your ears turned red. Of course you would love calling him Jinki but you were just an ordinary undergraduate student and maybe you shouldn’t cross that thin fine line.

"I prefer professor,professor Lee"

"Um-so do you have any plans after tuition?" he asked looking nonchalant as if it was one genuine question. You furrowed he had been really interested in your schedules and daily life asking questions on them in recent days. You really thought of them genuine at first but were they?

"I've plans for a soju party this evening with few of my friends.." your cheeks turned red remembering what happened after your last soju party.

"What?really?" he started laughing out loud. You bit the inside of your cheek. He was looking too cute for you to handle.

"The previous one?" he asked after stopping his laughter.

"Ye-yeah" you tucked some hair behind your ear whilst he checked some message on his phone.

"Anyway,I'm sorry it's end of our today's session.. I just recall some urgent matters that I need to handle on my own...I hope you understand.. " he offered a beautiful smile to your way as he gathered all of his stuffs together.

"Please don't be sorry,professor Lee.. You are already owing me a lot.." you murmured stealing a glance at your busy professor.

"I can drop you off you know?"

"I don't wanna trouble you more with my necessities,professor Lee..." You said biting down your lip. Him dropping you off wouldn’t be that bad,y/n. You tried to convince yourself mentally.

"Oh?It's not the first time I offered you a ride back home miss y/n" he paused and pressed his lips in a thin line before continuing," and I'm running away from my duty so I insist you on that offer..so if you please..and I ain't taking No as an answer..."

"When will this pathetic soju party end?~Jinki"

You double checked the message if it was really your professor sending a message asking you when your soju party would end. And 'pathetic'. You furrowed. Wasn't he just being a bit friendlier than he should be? You thought. But decided not to reply back thinking he might send it to the wrong recipient.

You brushed it off and poured some soju on your glass when your phone vibrated again.

"God,how long do I need to wait for you outside the bar?Can you come out already?I'm freezing~Jinki"

Your eyes widened in shock. He was kidding, wasn’t he?why the hell he would come here! You almost ran out of the bar to find your professor standing near a lamp post across the street while humming some song. His eyes met yours and they beamed in joy.

You walked up to him hurriedly hugging yourself with your arms, "Hey,why are you here,professor Lee?"

"Jinki..I insist on that please" he smiled.

You sighed, "Why...why are you here,ji-jinki-nim?" This man was persistent,wasnt he?

"I can't let any other person take you in their cars, can I? Who knows you will end up molesting him in their own cars the way you did me last time.."he winked at you. You gasped. Did your young professor just winked at your way?

"He-he looked so innocent!" you blurted out unconsciously rubbing your cheeks to cool down the sudden increase in the temperature.

"Oh y/n.." he smiled cockily and placed his large palm on your cheek to rub his thumb over your skin. You blinked. Is there something else that I'm missing out? You asked yourself.

"Of course none is innocent...hmm? But I am glad at least I dont go around and start kissing my professor in drunken state..or asking for his buttons or..maybe fumbling someone's chest without their consent,hm?" he said innocently though his eyes said different. You blushed harder. This man was making fun of you with such a innocent smile.

"I-I said sorry..I wouldn’t do this kind of stuff if I wasnt drunk that day..." you murmured looking at him in shock and embarrassment.

"Hm..I see...but why wouldn’t you?" he asked pouting cutely.

Your eyes widened in shock, "huh?"

"Huh?I asked why do you need to be drunk to kiss me when you can do it anytime perhaps?" he cooed pulling you closer.

"I can't, can I?" you said looking away in embarrassment. You could swear on butterfly flying around your stomach. Was he feeling the same too?

"Um? Can you? Why don't you give a try and check it out by yourself?if I were you,I would def-" you cut him off placing your lips on his tiptoeing on your heels. He moaned deliciously between the kiss which turned into music in your ears. Had you ever mentioned how sweet and melodious his voice was? You smiled unconsciously when he started sucking on your lips asking for your permission to slip his tongue in. His arms tightly wrapped around your waist when both of your tongues wrapped around each other. He just wanted to explore you,explore every inch of your mouth.

"God,I even forgot how you tasted that day.." you said blushingly when he pulled away to take a deep breath.

"But-now you do,don't you?" he asked playfully while placing a kiss over your head before patting it.

"Do I need to answer that question,professor?" you asked with red cheeks.

"Of course..but do you know the bestest thing that just happened?"

"We-we kissed?" you mumbled looking down at his shoes.

You heard him chuckle, "if you want to keep thinking about this kiss,you can but I assure you-thaaat-" he paused to bend down a little to meet your eyes.

"This is just the beginning miss y/n....you have more to explore." he smirked and moved away. You bit the inside of your cheeks. He was way playful than you thought.

"Anyway,the bestest thing is that you dont have to steal flirty glances at your handsome cute professor from now on." he joked earning a punch from you.

"Stop doing these jokes!I never sent inappropriate gla-glances.." you whined shaking your head.

"I don't mind them and you can trust me on that miss y/n.." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"No way" you rolled your eyes.

"You know how can you turn your life interesting than going to these pathetic soju parties?" he asked offering his elbow which you gladly took in before you both started walking in a steady pace matching with his.

"How?" you asked seriously looking at his side.

"By dating me of course miss y/n.." he said wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully. You blushed.

"So are we dating?" he asked pinching your nose. You nodded in response only to get smashed by his body. You breathed in his cologne and hummed in anticipation.

"Trust me girl,you are not gonna regret this..." he murmured huskily licking your earlobe.

"We can do a lot of adventures together...." he cooed cupping your cheeks seductively.

"Ad-adventure?" you stuttered at the hint of his double meaning.

He chuckled, "we will find it out later together,baby".

You blushed. He was such an evil in disguise!You could bet he was gonna spoil you soon but you were also sure that you were not gonna regret dating this young clumsy professor of yours. Maybe exploring adventures together wouldn't be that bad...

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