#not just writing but also reading for pleasure

[simpjaes]

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ HRatyourjob@workemail.org ]

CC:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

HR

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 

From:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 

Not anger. Not disappointment. 

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 

“I will reiterate then.” 

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it? 

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 

Silence. 

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 

“Maybe.” 

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause. 

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 

Click. 

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 

Far too cute. 

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 

 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought. 

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 

So cute. 

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 

 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 

It feels better than jerking himself off. 

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 

Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 

Oh.

His face– 

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips. 

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 

You’ve still only given him nothing. 

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even. 

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him. 

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh. 

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

 “Oh–shit.” 

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you. 

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 

Intimacy. 

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!” 

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him. 

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni.

– how would they react if you ask them to be rough on you as much as they possibly can during sex? with jing yuan, gepard, argenti. + aftercare. cw: rough fucking, overstim, fingering. a bit of fluff on the aftercare. not proofread.

notes: thanks to my friend for terrorising me into doing this /j ^___^ jokes aside, i had fun writing this!! i didn't want to make this too long so i tried my best.. also my rules, tags everything about my blog is up on my pinned. make sure to read them byf please!! if this one actually gets attention more than i intended it to be, i'll make a part two and a genshin one ;___; 

jing yuan — 

i think jing yuan wouldn’t react any differently when you ask him to be rough on you. jing yuan has always been gentle with you ever since you two started dating—jing yuan can be either a gentleman in bed or.. just fuck your brains out? he’s actually anything you can ask for. he prioritises your pleasure and your comfort more than anything else. you want him to fuck you senseless? sure, you want some intense fucking? go for it, you want some gentle fucking as he whispers some sweet praises right next to your ear? or maybe both—he’s just the perfect man for anything. if you want him to bury your head on the pillows as he pulls on your hair and pounds you from behind, he’ll do it, only if you want him to. although he can’t deny the fact that he likes to see you fall apart on his cock, fucking you rough as possible while his fingers are buried deep inside you. as long as he can make you cum before he does, he’s happy. 

after care with jing yuan is one of the things that you two can always look forward to after having your brains fucked out—and trust me, that isn’t the only thing he’s good at. if he’s that good in bed, he’s definitely more than that when it’s after care. first thing he would ask you if there’s anything that hurts or did he go too far on you, he would even prepare a bath for the both of you (no fucking again, he says) and prepare some sweets or your comfort food after your intimate moment with him. ask him to give you a massage or tell you a random story about his childhood then he shall deliver! or if you just want to lay down on bed, he’ll make sure to clean you up if you fall asleep. he just wants the best for you, and he would be willing to give you more. make sure to thank him, the only thing he’ll ask for you is your love and embrace that he can always come home to.

gepard —

i think he would be a bit taken aback by your request, not that he doesn’t want to do it but he’s got some hesitation in him if he can go that far for you. he would be the type to ask you to show him how you want this to happen or set any boundaries, he thinks you’re someone who should be deeply taken care of in bed and he didn’t even think of this doing this with you at all, he does not want to hurt you. but he’s definitely willing to give it to you if you explain to him that this is not going to hurt you in the least.. it is your request after all. rough sex with gepard would definitely start with lots of foreplay, he’ll hesitate but once he gets the hang of it soon enough you’ll also be fucked dumb on the sheets, and he thinks that awakened something in him.. he doesn’t know that you’re the type to like this nor himself. he would often ask you if you can still take more or if you want him to stop, all his pent up frustrations or stress as a captain of belobog guards will all be poured into you that’ll leave you like a panting mess under him. don’t get him wrong though, he prioritises your release more than his, but forgive him if he accidentally cums inside you again and again.. poor guy can’t help himself at all.

after care with gepard would be a 50/50 situation for the both of you, give him time to recollect himself after because he thinks he’s not able to recover after that.. because of how good it felt. he’ll shower you with kisses and praises immediately after and would ask you questions if he did good or if it’s what you asked for. if you assure him that he did not hurt you at all, that’s the only thing he needs to hear. stay for a little chat with him in bed as you both calm down from it, he would start preparing a bath for you two as he changes the bedsheets, a little subtle kisses before going to sleep is how you two would end the night. he would really do anything for you, if you wanted him to. totally thinks he would be up to doing it again some other time. don’t tease him about it though. he’ll blush a bit if you knew how much he liked it, just a bit, he says.

argenti — 

one of the best gentlemen out there, who just aims to make you feel good no matter what. just like jing yuan, i don’t think he’ll mind it. as for someone who just wants to worship your precious body. but of course he would ask you first if you’re sure about doing it, and if you give him a sign that it’s okay, he doesn’t even hesitate on doing so. he’ll be the type to go slow on you at first, tease you until you’re ready to take him inside your warm cunny. then, the next moment you knew, he’s fucking you in such vigorous pace, would make you suck on his fingers as his lips traces over your body, and if he takes you from behind–he would even wrap his hands around your neck just to take a good look at your pretty messy face, he’ll still kiss your tears away even though he’s ramming inside your sopping wet pussy, he’ll switch by using his fingers, cock or his mouth just to overstimulate you. degrading words would definitely come out of his mouth but he does it in his own unique way (if you know, you know). he will definitely tease you but worry not, you don’t even remember how many times he had made you cum already.

aftercare with argenti? my love, you’re in for a treat. i’m sure we all know this man praises everything he sees, but when it comes to you as if he doesn’t run out of words. your afterglow with him would be definitely something, immediately would cradle you in his arm after making your legs tremble from overstimulation, he would press kisses all over your body and not a single spot would be missed. he would even press a chaste kiss on your clit after he cleaned you up, telling you were such a good girl for taking him or any words of praise that he could think of. the bath was already set up even before the two of you started, some bath bombs, scented candles, and petals scattered all over the floor. he’ll bring you some water or any snacks you prefer as he helps you clean up and after the two of you settles in bed, it would always ends with giggles and topics that the both of you share.. and of course, he doesn’t forget to praise you all over again, may he forgive you for falling asleep as he talks about how your body makes him feel good and how ethereal you are. it’s his way of making you fall asleep after all. 

[sammyche]

Is it morally wrong to feed chatgpt with parts of your favorite fics and then ask it to write fics, which you want to read but don’t exist? (Using the segments of the story as a reference for the writing style)

…. I am asking for a friend

mhhhm i mean i understand so much the want to read some stories without being able to write them (and also even if you write sometimes you just want to read something else than your own writing, like i never re read my fics for pleasure so i get it).

if you're not reposting what the ai puts out and passing it as your own writing then it should be okay BUT, and it's a big but (as big as marc's), the problem is that ai take what you put into them to train their models. basically they are ripping off people's art and craft and hard work to one day be able to write stories without the need for humans and that's pretty sad to me.

i think we should maybe do a prompt blog to link people's prompts with writers in need of ideas. or you can go into the asks of people you like the writing off to ask about a prompt and maybe they'll write about it. or just post the prompt with the right tags and you might inspire a writer. that's the ethical way.

then again i can't prevent your friend 😉 to do what they want.

[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (15) - Final Chapter

Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS)

genre: angst, e2l, supernatural, thriller, slow burn

rating: mature

description: Heavy decisions fall on you when Taehyung throws you one last curveball. Do you say goodbye or do you stay?

word count: 10.2k

warnings: contains SPOILERS!!! Multiple POV changes, compulsion, mention of blood, mention of death, it’s very angsty, the ending is bittersweet – pls understand i poured my heart into this and it’s okay not to like it or comment about it, i tried to cover all plot holes :)

a/n: This is the final chapter of my series Moonstruck. I’ve been writing this story on and off for YEARS, so if you’ve stuck around this long, thank you! I’m aware people might be upset at the ending and that’s okay! My OC isn’t perfect and the point is she chose her own happiness for once. Please be kind, as I plan to write an epilogue in the future that can also be read as a stand-alone (with all the werewolf smut a reader could dream of lol).

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“Let me go to Jimin. Please.”

Her voice was frail, broken, desperate. You caved into her pleas, seeing as she was in no condition to fight. Whatever happened between her, Jimin, and Jungkook must’ve been brutal. It’s amazing she was still standing, but as she limped towards her lover, her legs gave way from exhaustion.

Still, she persisted and crawled the remaining distance to hold her dying boyfriend in her arms. You walked over to them, finding the moment tender and beautiful despite the circumstances. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything,” she said, smiling through her tears. Jimin could barely utter her name, but she shushed him. “Save your strength.”

She pulled out an artifact from her pocket that you recalled from your studies and gasped. 

“Is that…?” you started to say. She didn’t answer you and looked up towards the sky. You followed her gaze to see streaks of shooting stars across the velvet night sky. 

“Tonight’s a meteor shower,” Ari said, as if she was anticipating it. “A celestial event will fix everything.”

You tore your gaze away from the sky to see blood dripping from her nose onto the circular artifact. From what you remembered, it was called an Ascendant. Combined with the blood from a Choi witch and the cosmic power of a celestial event, a portal to a prison world was possible. 

“No. You’re not serious!” you exclaimed. 

“It’s the only way to save him,” she said, running a hand through his hair with a fond expression. “To save us.”

“So what? You’re going to live out the rest of your days with someone who doesn’t even love you?! He’s going to die over and over. That’s not a way to live.”

Prison worlds were just that — a hell with no escape. Death was a pleasure one wasn’t able to experience there. It was a place for banishment, home for the worst of the worst. 

Ari looked you dead in the eye. “He’s my first love. I intend to be his last.”

In this moment, you knew this was your best friend talking and not some demented evil version of her. She was dying because Jimin was dying and if she wanted to be tethered to a prison world the rest of her days, who were you to stop her?

Almost as if she could hear your thoughts, she added, “I’ve done too much to be forgiven for. Let me go.”

She deserved it. She deserved to rot there with him. So you weren’t going to deny her wishes, only prolong them. You bent down and swiped the Ascendant from her hand, holding it hostage. 

“No.” Your voice was unwavering. She stared at you aghast, like you committed the most terrible sin.

“[Y/N]!”

“You want to abandon all the problems you exacerbated? No. I’m tired of this bullshit. If anyone gets to run away from this mess, it’s me. Now you better give me a solution…” You held the artifact high, threatening to smash it into smithereens. “Or else.”

“Stop, stop!” she begged.

“I’m waiting. The meteor shower will be over soon. Tick. Tock.”

She glanced down at Jimin, reaching her hand up to his neck to grab the amulet. With a forceful tug, she yanked it off him and handed it to you.

“Here! This will solve everything. I promise!”

You took the amulet from her, your eyes watching her every movement in case she tried to pull something. “How?”

“I sense someone trapped within it. Someone who has an energy signature similar to you… I’m not sure, but I think it’s your father.”

Your entire body froze. “How is that possible? How do I release him?”

A faint click sound captured your attention. You lowered your hand and stared at the Ascendant, watching the gears rotate into place, the cosmic energy from the meteor shower beaming straight into it. A relieved smile graced Ari’s features as she closed her eyes. 

“No, wait!” You were too late. A bright flash temporarily blinded you and once you opened your eyes again, Ari and Jimin had vanished, leaving behind only a burned Ascendant. 

Mora Miserium…

Ari’s words rang loud in your ears, though you had no idea what they meant.

However, the amulet was still in your hand. You dangled it in front of you, paying attention to its alluring glow. It seemed to shine brighter the closer it was to your face, like it was attracted to something. You realized your moonstone was reacting to it, so you placed them near each other, igniting a burst of energy that knocked you backwards. Groaning, you sat up to see a figure manifest before your very eyes—a ghost you never thought you’d see again as your eyes flooded with tears.

“Dad…?”

“My little miracle… come here.”

You stumbled while getting up and rushed into his warm embrace, crying your heart out. 

“Where have you been all this time? I missed you so much. I lost my best friend and—and—” You hiccuped from talking so fast. He held you by the shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I was in your necklace. Trapped, actually.”

“But how?”

“Nevermind that. I’ll take Jungkook to the infirmary. You go release the professors, Hoseok, and Jiwoo. I’ll explain everything.”

You obeyed your father’s instructions, releasing everyone from their cages in the underground cellar. Everyone was quick to ask you what was going on, the noise unbearable. There were too many questions, apologies, concerns — the chaos finally stopped when your father appeared after dropping Jungkook off. 

“[F/N]...” Jin and Yoongi embraced your father tight, afraid it was a dream. Once they released him, Hoseok and his sister gave an awkward introduction but were friendly nevertheless. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, giving him a punch in the arm. Your father, quick with his reflexes, caught his fist. 

With a soft smile, he replied, “In [Y/N]’s moonstone,” Jin dropped his jaw so wide that it almost made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a lot. But let’s heal the injured first. I took Jungkook to the infirmary and patched him up. [Y/N]?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Heal Namjoon. I know he’s treated you awfully and you don’t have to forgive him—”

“But he was compelled,” you said, finishing his statement. “So everything that’s happened… isn’t his fault. I’ll heal him.”

You bit your wrist, devoid of the pain it usually brought and lowered yourself to Namjoon’s limp body on the ground. You lifted his head gently, placing your wrist on his mouth and making sure he was ingesting it. 

“He’ll be fine after some rest,” you said, standing up. 

“Thank you, [Y/N],” Yoongi said, though you didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “I know I should’ve told you about releasing Hoseok but—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He nodded in understanding and you turned to your father. “Dad, what are we going to do? Jungkook and Taehyung’s lives are linked.”

“What?!” Everyone aside from you and your father was stunned. God, you needed a newsletter or something to keep them all up to date.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ll explain that later but for right now, I need to unlink them because if one more bad thing happens, I will turn off my humanity again. What can you tell me about Mora Muserium?”

He seemed astonished by the mention of it. “That’s an ancient artifact witches use to remove dark magic and have it contained. I was traveling the world to find it for you, hoping it’d remove the dark magic and help you regain fertility.”

You glared at him and he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he said, scratching the nape of his neck. “Father of the year right here. I should’ve told you the truth.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it.”

“No. I had to find an alternative. There was a witch who gave me the moonstone but said its powers only activate if a werewolf sacrifices his soul.”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on his heart. “You were willing to stay inside the stone for the rest of your life if it meant [Y/N] could have children?”

He nodded while giving you a fond smile. “Anything for my little girl. She deserves a life with her needs fulfilled.” Your dad suddenly snapped his head in Hoseok’s direction. “But then you killed her.”

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender while Jiwoo stood in front of him, her protective nature taking over. “Hey. He was manipulated into doing so to save me.”

“Still. The moonstone is useless now for fertility,” your father huffed. 

“Can we please get back to the Mora Muserium?” you said, wanting to pull your hair out from frustration. “We don’t have much time. Taehyung died with my blood in his system and will need to drink it again to complete his transformation. If not, he’ll die and take Jungkook with him!”

“How did their lives become linked?” Jin questioned. 

“The night of the banquet we drank some alcohol that Ari gave us.”

“It must have been dark magic. If we can get the Mora Muserium, we can use it to absorb the dark magic out of Jungkook and sever the connection.”

“Great. But where can we find it? What does it look like?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi chimed in. “It looks like a sand clock of sorts. Like an hourglass.”

“Yes. But the one I was looking for was sold to a private collector,” your father informed.

“I’ve seen it…” The groggy voice came from the floor. Jin rushed to Namjoon’s side, helping him sit up. Aside from the dried blood from his nose, his wounds had lightened and were in the process of healing. “Jimin’s parents. They own an armory full of artifacts. I saw one that looked like an hourglass the day I helped him get the White Oak stake.”

“I’ll go. Tell me the address,” your father stated. “I’m taking Jungkook with me.”

“What? He’s knocked out and needs time to recover.” Your protest fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the least he can do for you. Besides, it gives me time to get to know him. A little heart-to-heart.” He patted your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for him to wake up. You go take care of that bite wound and rest. All of us should rest.”

Jungkook’s Point of View - 12 Hours Later

I woke up in the infirmary sore as hell. Sitting up only exacerbated things, the pain surging through me like fire. My torso was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a sling. The battle with the bitch witch would’ve gone sideways if Jimin didn't intervene. I barely made it out with my life.

“You’re awake, boy.”

The voice was gruff, unfamiliar. I saw a silhouette from behind the privacy curtain, but I didn’t feel threatened. I could tell he was a werewolf from his scent. 

“Who are you?”

He pulled back the curtain, revealing his face to me. He was far older than me, with streaks of gray in his hair. His stern expression intimidated the shit out of me, but after giving me a once over, his eyes softened and his forehead creased with wrinkles of concern.

“I’m [F/N]. [Y/N]’s dad.”

“Oh,” Shit. This was not how I envisioned meeting him. “She has your eyes.”

A soft chuckle came out of him. “I get that a lot.” He pulled up a chair to sit by my side, the smell of cedarwood filling my nose. “Look, I know a lot has happened around here. I’ve been trapped in that damn moonstone for months.”

I looked at him in horror. “You mean the necklace [Y/N] has? That means you’ve seen…”

I trailed off, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, his face twisted in disgust. “Yes, yes, there’s a lot I did not wish to see but anyway… not the point. Honestly, part of me wants to strangle you for hurting her.”

I knew my time had to come sometime. Better him than someone else. I closed my eyes and braced myself. 

“But…” He continued, “You and my daughter have been through hell and back. You protected her. Thank you.”

I opened my eyes, trying not to exhale in relief too loudly. “I always will.”

“Do you love her?”

“I do.” My response was so fast; it sounded automated. I noticed [F/N]’s eyes narrowing at me, like he was searching for doubt. 

“Why?”

If I took too long coming up with an answer, that would only make me look ingenuine. I spoke from my heart, keeping my voice steady even though he looked like he could tear me in half at any moment’s notice.

“For the first time in a while, I feel like I can think clearly. The sire bond was like a crutch that made it impossible for me to distinguish my own feelings from [Y/N]’s,” I said, watching for his reaction. He nodded for me to continue. “Now that it’s severed, I feared I would stop loving her. That it was all an illusion. But that’s not the case. I know I love her. So much that it scares me…”

“Even if she’s infertile?”

“I already knew about that. It does not affect how I feel.”

“What about Jimin?”

I’d be damned if I saw that wretched vampire ever again. He manipulated everyone, especially me. Like an idiot. “What about him?”

“You chose to believe his words over my daughter’s. I want to know why.”

He might as well have broken my other arm. I fought the urge to throw up. What did he want me to say? That I was an idiot, that I was manipulated, that I was doubting her because I was a coward?  “I don’t know.”

“Answer me.” He was telling, not asking. But I was stubborn. 

“I said I don’t know.” I did know, of course. However, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. Anything I said would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“Gonna take it to the grave? You don’t have much time left.”

He laughed at my stunned face, as if mocking me. “What do you mean?”

“Your life is linked to that other wolf’s. [Y/N] mentioned something about the night of the banquet where you drank liquor.”

Taehyung. Fuck, fuck, fuck! No wonder that bastard was so elated when I returned. That must have been why I blacked out after clawing him. Though my body was already on the verge of collapsing from the constant battling. 

“Anyway, I’ll get straight to the point,” [F/N]’s said as he stood up. “Taehyung died with my daughter’s blood in his system thanks to you. That means he’s in the middle of transitioning to becoming a hybrid.”

“But it’s incomplete…” I whispered. He nodded, crossing one arm over the other.

“He needs to drink her blood one more time after coming back to life to become a hybrid. If not, he will die. Which in turn means you will die.”

“I gotta see [Y/N].” I practically ripped the covers off me with my good arm, swinging my legs off the cot. However, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to leave.”

“She’s going to do whatever it takes to save me, including saving that son of a bitch. He’ll be sired by her, which is what he wants!”

“Yes, but would you rather be dead than see him sired by her? Think straight for a second. We have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“We’re going to go artifact hunting and I need that compulsion ability of yours to succeed. Then I’ll consider letting you see my daughter.”

Of course there was something else. There always was.

Your Point Of View - 12 Hours Later

You slept like a log. Your body was worn down, weathered by the stress and trauma the universe kept sending your way. The only reason you woke up was because your sharp ears picked up the sound of digging. At first, you tried to ignore it. But it was consistent and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Put your back into it,” Yoongi said, sitting on the snow criss-crossed. Jin huffed and set the shovel aside. 

“This would go a lot faster if you helped!” He turned around to see you appear out of nowhere. “Ah fuck! Oh my god, [Y/N]! You scared me.”

“Sorry. You woke me from my sleep.” You stared down at the wide chasm he dug, the body inside instantly recognizable. “Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s Sunghyun,” Yoongi said. “We wanted to give him a proper burial.”

“I’ll help,” you offered. Jin and Yoongi gave each other a look but said nothing. Jin handed you the other shovel, giving you a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Hoseok and his sister?” you asked.

“Still sleeping,” Yoongi answered.

“And my dad?”

“He went to find the Mora Miserium with Jungkook.”

“Namjoon? Taehyung?”

“Infirmary. Taehyung’s chained up in the caves. Jungkook really fucked him up; he’s still knocked out,” Jin said, releasing a grunt as he dug. 

There wasn’t any more conversation after that. Once Sunghyun’s grave was filled, Yoongi used a piece of wood as a makeshift headstone until he could get a proper one. He had etched Sunghyun’s name into it with a pocket knife and you all said your prayers. 

“He saved my life,” you said, taking out the amulet from your pocket. “Especially with this. I wanted this buried with him but the risks…”

“He’d understand,” Jin said, reassuring you. “He wouldn’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it. We can frame it or you can keep it.”

You stared at the amulet in your hands, contemplating what to do with it. Then your eyes lit up as you took your moonstone necklace off. Last time the two pendants touched, there was an explosion. But what if this time…

“Can you fuse the two necklaces together? I think they’re connected.”

Jin cracked his knuckles. “Easy peasy.”

He chanted some words in Latin, moving his hands in the air around the two pendants as you held them. Then with one final snap, the stones fused together to create a double moon necklace. Jin grinned at his work and then proceeded to help you put the necklace back on.

“It suits you,” Yoongi remarked. The three of you headed back towards campus, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at the professor, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”

He stopped walking, so Jin followed his example. You sighed, halting your footsteps as well. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jin said.

“I don’t want to hear apologies. I just want this to end. Okay?” You interrupted them before they had a chance to say more. “I know. You released Hoseok because you love him. And you recorded my sessions because I don’t know, documentation? It’s fine.”

The two men couldn’t bear to look at you, so they opted for looking at the ground instead.

“How do you intend for this to end?” Yoongi said, his voice soft, as if you could be set off at a moment’s notice. “Do you… have a plan?”

You dropped your shoulders, not realizing how tense they were. “I don’t know. Dad gets the artifact, we sever the link, Jungkook gets to live.”

“And Taehyung?” Jin said, trying not to sound nervous. “What about him? Will you give him your blood or…”

He trailed off, but you filled in the blanks pretty easily. “Let him die? That’s what you want to know. You’re my professors… Why should the decision fall on me? Haven’t I been through enough?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in frustration. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you said. Yoongi and Jin let you walk away, not having the heart to stop you. 

Namjoon’s Point of View

Vampire blood was one thing, but hybrid blood? It accelerated my healing three times as fast. I was pretty much back to normal after a good long rest. Hoseok and his sister woke up fifteen minutes ago, keeping me company in the infirmary. We played a game of cards while catching up.

And boy, did I have a shit ton to catch up on. Truth be told, my memory was fuzzy ever since the night Jimin and I went out in search of [Y/N]. I remember him being so eager to help; I thought it was sweet. But I lowered my guard too easily and paid the price. He whacked me in the head with something hard and next thing I knew, I was tied up.

Hoseok was able to piece things together from there and I quickly changed the subject, asking about him and his sister. It was admirable how everything he’s done was for her. For [Y/N] too. He was simply trying to protect everyone, and though his execution was poor, he had good intentions. 

“So… Yoongi, huh?” I asked. Hoseok dropped the cards on my cot, retracting himself into a shy ball. His sister giggled when his cheeks reddened.

“He’s all my brother talks about,” She lowered her voice to a funny octave, mimicking Hoseok as best as she could. “I miss Yoongi. I wanna be with Yoongi. I’m Yoongi’s vitamin.”

I let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight off my chest for the first time in a while. Hoseok whined at Jiwoo’s teasing, and she patted his head while smiling. 

“Do you think [Y/N] will ever forgive me?” I asked. Hoseok stared at me like I had insulted him.

“Forgive you? Dude, I killed her and caused her to never be able to have children again. She’ll forgive you.”

“She’ll forgive you too,” Jiwoo assured. “You were being coerced. You didn’t want to kill her.”

Two knocks came from the door. We all glanced up to see [Y/N] step in, her head hung low. 

“Am I interrupting?”

I could barely hear her, but Hoseok answered with a quick, “No, you’re not interrupting. Do you need us?”

“I… I want to talk to Namjoon.”

I was gobsmacked to the point where Hoseok and Jiwoo gave me a look, as if they were telepathically asking me if it was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, come over. Would you two mind giving us some privacy?” Jiwoo was quick to leave, but Hoseok gave me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder first. Once the siblings closed the door behind them, [Y/N] stood in front of me without moving. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes pointed to the ground. 

“Sit down,” I said, trying to sound like a gentle giant and not an authoritative douche. She finally made eye contact with me and then in the blink of an eye, her arms were around me. My body stilled. “[Y/N]?”

“I… I want my friend back,” she said, voice slightly shaky. My muscles relaxed and I hugged her back tightly, wanting her to know I was there for her.

“I’m here, I promise,” Poor girl was trembling. “You can cry. Let it all out.”

She did. First it was small sniffles, which gradually became much louder sobbing. I held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I wanted to tell her so much, apologize for everything, but only after she was ready to hear it. I didn’t care how long she needed to cry; I just wanted to be there for her.

“I think I’m ready to talk now… I have a lot to ask. A lot to say.”

She was sitting at the foot of my bed now. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“You’re you?” I couldn’t blame her for being cautious. I taught her as much. “You have to be you… Jimin is no longer a part of this world, so the compulsion must’ve worn off.”

“Did you…” I trailed off, but she shook her head.

“Ari took him to the prison world with her.”

“Whoa…” I didn’t know what to say other than I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two deserve each other for eternity. 

“You really thought I’d kill him?” Her words were sharp, laced with offense. 

I sat up straight. “No, I just didn’t know what happened to him. Once he was gone, it was like my mind felt clear. Like I had control again. I know you wouldn’t kill him unless it was out of self-defense. Actually, even if it wasn’t out of self-defense, I wouldn’t have blamed you. No one would have.”

She bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers when lost in deep thought. “The only person I’ve ever killed was my childhood abuser. It still haunts me. That weight of taking someone’s life is soul-crushing, Joon. Even if he deserved it.”

Her shoulders drooped as she said the next part. “What do I do about Taehyung?”

Ah. That was a very good question indeed. He’s done unforgivable things, his intentions stemming from obsession. Obsession over her. His past record with his last love interest wasn’t any better either. That wolf was dangerous.

“What do you want to do about him?”

She scoffed, as if she knew I would say that. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. You’ve killed countless supernatural beings, humans too. Why do I have to decide?”

Valid point. I was a hunter first, headmaster second. But she was only a student, my apprentice, still a kid in my eyes. Always a fighter, never a killer. “Once the link between him and Jungkook is severed, you don’t have to give him your blood. He’ll die of natural consequences. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“But he’d suffer.”

“Isn’t that what he deserves?”

“You thought Jimin deserved a second chance. Are some people not redeemable?”

“It sounds like you want him to be.”

She covered her face with both hands. “No. I just—he’s a student. And it’s because of his love for me that this got so out of hand. It’s my fault…”

“Stop. None of this is your fault,” She dropped her hands, a sad pout on her lips. “I’ll do it. I’ll put Taehyung out of his misery, so you don’t have to. It’ll be on me.”

“You’re the headmaster. You took him in. You think… he deserves to die?”

“I think he deserves what you think is fitting. Because he’s the one who wronged you. But I’m more than willing to make the hard choice for you if you choose to do nothing.” She hopped off the cot, pacing back and forth in the room. I removed the covers off me and swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Hey… you don’t have to save everyone.”

That got her to stop. “But I do… my blood is cursed to do so.”

“Listen, I’ve tried to save everyone. Every student. I see so much potential, it’s overwhelming. But some people can't be saved no matter what you do and that’s okay.”

I stood up, but my legs stumbled clumsily. [Y/N] caught me and swung my arm over her shoulder. 

“See? I’m a natural at saving others.”

It was good to hear her make a joke, even a small one. I smiled. “Ultimately it’s up to you. I’ll support whatever you do.”

Your Point of View

You set Namjoon back on the cot, joining him as you two dangled your legs off the edge. Well, yours dangled while his feet stayed planted on the ground. 

“There’s only one thing I know for sure…” you said. Namjoon placed his hands in his lap, awaiting your answer. “When this is all over, I have to do what’s best for me. And that means—”

“You have to leave.”

It felt like deja vu of your previous conversation where he said he was letting you go. Except this time, you were choosing it yourself. 

“Yeah… you actually gave me the idea first. I realized you were right.”

His tone shifted to a more grave one. “I’ll be honest. I probably said many things to you while I was under Jimin’s influence. I don’t remember much after he knocked me out while we went out searching for you. Bastard tied me up and waited until the vervain was out of my system to compel me. Stole my ring too.”

“But…?”

“But…” He sighed. “I made a promise to you and your parents that I’d always look out for you except it’s not healthy for you to be here anymore.” He placed his hand on your own, squeezing it gently. “You were always the right person, but this is the wrong place. I have to let you go because you deserve peace.”

“Namjoon…” You already cried your heart out once, so you refrained from tearing up again. His gaze on you was affectionate, protective, but also solemn. 

“I’ll get all the stuff ready for you to graduate early. Anything you need, I’ll do it. Just know you are always welcome here.”

Shit. It looked like he was about to cry. You’ve never seen him like this, so you did the only thing that might bring him some comfort.

“I love you, Namjoon. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

He let out a small wheeze from trying to reply to you while keeping his emotions in check. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.”

Taehyung’s Point of View

I woke up to find myself chained. Not only were my wrists and ankles bound, but there was a collar around my neck too. The chains clinked when I charged forward, but I didn’t get very far since they were attached to the wall. A hole in the ceiling allowed some sunlight in, but it did little to stop the cold winter air. At least someone put me in sweatpants before confining me here.

I wracked my brain to remember my last memory. Ah. Right. I was clawed to death, which was extremely gruesome and sucked ass. However, it would be worth it. She was worth it. 

Were my methods unorthodox? Yes. A bit insane? Absolutely. But when you’re in love, you do stupid things. We should have never broken up, but I was overly jealous and she was a stunner. She could have any guy, so I had to do whatever it took to make her choose me.

I wanted her to keep choosing me. Hell, she could use me for all I cared. For sex, for comfort, I would always be down. At first I gave her space, but that was my biggest mistake. A new wolf enrolled into our campus and became my roommate. Little did I know he would soon become my biggest threat.

The human hunters I paid did a splendid job attacking Jungkook. However, it seemed Mother Nature wanted me to work harder because that damn sire bond saved his life. While he was being an ungrateful sired jackass, I was longing to switch places with him. It was my ultimate goal, my desire, to be sired to [Y/N].

So when I caught Park Jimin masturbating to Jungkook’s pictures, the alliance was formed. He’d get Jungkook, I’d get [Y/N]. Little did I know, that vampire bastard was going to double-cross me. A lot of things went south, but it didn’t matter. The end result was what was most important. 

I had finally got a taste of her blood. Sweet, delicious, rich liquid crimson. I closed my eyes, licking my lips at the memory. My plan was finally coming to fruition. 

And the best part? It was fail-proof. Dying with her blood in my system was step one. Step two was drinking it once more after resurrecting to complete the transition into becoming a hybrid. If she didn’t give it to me, I’d have to force her hand.

Honest to god, I didn’t plan for my life to be linked to Jungkook’s. That night at the banquet, I originally wanted to be linked to [Y/N] as a means to be closer to her. Who knew things would work out in my favor?

If she didn’t give me her blood, I’d die and that means Jungkook would die. This was great. Victory was within my reach; I could smell it.

Well, actually I smelled something else. A saccharine scent I knew all too well. Opening my eyes, I saw a figure approaching in the distance past the iron gate bars. 

“[Y/N]...”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. The large gauze on her neck was a beautiful sight to see. I hoped she remembered my bite for the rest of her life. The memory of pinning her down, the way she wiggled beneath me trying to escape — it made me hard. If I wasn’t chained, I’d claim her as my own and abduct her for my own twisted needs. 

When she opened the gate, I writhed against the chains like a feral beast. She hesitated at first but then entered, leaving enough space between us so she’d still be out of reach.

“You’re such a fucking tease, I’m tired of being the nice guy. Get over here and release me,” I snarled. She didn't respond, so I kept going. “What? Are you mad I drank your blood? That I’ll be sired to you?”

I knew I had won at this point. I couldn’t help but be smug, wearing a proud smile at my soon-to-be victory. She simply shook her head at me. 

“I’m not mad. I pity you. Things didn’t have to be like this, Tae.”

“I agree. You should’ve chosen me. I wish…” My voice was losing its venom. I almost winced in pain as I said the next part. “I wish you could love me again.”

Her eyes softened a bit, like I chipped away a piece of the strong front she always put on. “Maybe in another life, we could’ve been happy together. But you had to go and orchestrate a murder. Work with hunters, a psychotic vampire, and a corrupted witch.” She ran a hand over her face, sighing loudly. “You’re in the middle of transitioning into a hybrid.”

“I know, I’m over the moon,” I said, enlarging my eyes to show her my excitement. I probably looked insane. “Even if you didn’t choose me, I chose you. And I’ll be yours even if you’re not truly mine. I still won.”

“That’s what you think. You need to drink my blood once more or you’ll die.”

“I know,” I said quickly, anticipating that tidbit. “You’ll give it to me soon enough.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because…” This was it. This was my moment! “I linked my life with Jungkook's. So if you don’t give me your blood, he’ll die.”

I let out a hearty laugh, but it quickly faded upon seeing her stoic expression. Why was she so calm? 

“Okay, I’m confused,” I said. “You’re supposed to be devastated.”

She took another step forward and I almost tried to kiss her, desperate for her to be closer. 

“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’ll just tell you. I already knew about your life being linked to Jungkook’s.”

I’m sure confusion was etched into my features. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Ari told me. Before she and Jimin were sent to a prison world.” Okay, not even I could predict that. Was I next? I wrestled against my restraints at the fear of being banished. I didn’t want to be away from her. “Calm down. I’m not sending you to one; it’s impossible without Ari’s blood anyway.”

I relaxed and stopped moving, so she continued, “It’s true that I would’ve cried at the thought of losing Jungkook and letting you win. But Ari left me with one last gift before she left.”

That bitch was lucky she went to a prison world because I had half a mind to burn her at the stake. 

“And what was that?”

“She found my father. You see, he was trapped in my moonstone necklace after making a deal with a witch. In exchange for his freedom, the moonstone would be imbued with magic strong enough to grant me fertility. Of course, it would only work if I hadn’t died.”

She lowered her face closer to my level. 

“I managed to release my father from the stone and ask him about some strange words Ari told me. Have you heard of the Mora Muserium?” 

I shook my head. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

“Well, the Mora Muserium is an hourglass that can remove dark magic from people and store it. The spell Ari used to link your lives used dark magic.”

I processed what she was saying, my mind racing a mile a minute. She wasn’t possibly insinuating…

“The dark magic tethering him to you has been removed, Tae. He and you are no longer linked,” she revealed. 

My face stiffened, the smile on my face I once had disappearing altogether. This couldn’t be true. My plan was fail-proof! “No! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying! He and I are connected forever! If you kill me, he dies! Do you really want to risk that?!”

“Tae…” she said, her tone full of pity. It angered me more. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to fall for your scare tactics! I don’t believe it one bit! Prove it!”

“After they removed the dark magic from the linking spell, my dad snapped his neck. Jungkook’s out cold while you’re… not.”

I dropped my jaw as I fell to my knees. “No…”

She got down on one knee, matching my level once more. “Jungkook will come back to life soon. But you won’t be here to see it.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?” I spat. 

“No. First your eyes will bleed. Then your body will be consumed in the most unimaginable pain you’ve ever felt. Like pure acid running through your veins, eating you alive inside out. It’ll be as painful to watch as it is to experience and lasts a long time before death finally consumes you.”

“You’re kidding me…”

“I’m not. I can’t bear to watch you suffer for that long so… someone else will put you out of your misery.”

She stood up and turned towards the gate. I narrowed my eyes to see a male figure approaching. He had a shotgun in his hand and a tool belt around his waist. The stench of vervain and wolfsbane from it was gag-inducing, and it made me sweat nervously too. 

“Namjoon…” I muttered. He looked at me like I was trash. When I tried to reach [Y/N]’s hand, she had already stood up and walked over to the headmaster. 

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked. [Y/N] bit her lip but nodded slowly. My heart sank to the ground. “Leave it to me. Go. You don’t want to see this.”

She marched forward towards the exit, determined not to look back. Namjoon stood in front of me, pointing the shotgun straight at my chest. I looked him dead in the eye, slowly rising to my feet.

“Sorry it had to end this way. But you did this to yourself, Taehyung.”

“Some headmaster you are. Killing your own student.”

“[Y/N] was the one who asked me to do this.”

“No! Stop lying! She would never!”

I tried to run towards the gate, her back still in view as she walked away rather slowly. I knew deep down, she didn’t want this. 

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], please! You’re going to just walk away? Even though you know you can save me?! Are you that heartless?!”

*BOOM!*

Fuck! My shoulder was stinging with pain from the poisoned bullet. I groaned in agony but remained standing, reaching out for her.

“[Y/N], please! I don’t want to die! All I ever wanted was—”

*BOOM!*

My left leg was fucked. I fell down to the cold ground, desperation being the only thing helping me stay conscious. She had covered her ears this time, but I knew my voice would reach her.

“[Y/N], I love you…” I breathed. “Even in my twisted, messed up, obsessive way. I love you and I just wanted you to choose me for once. For once…”

I heard Namjoon’s footsteps and him cocking the gun in preparation for the next shot. I tried to crawl away.

*BOOM!*

Now both my legs were done for. I cried. Wailed. Screamed as I laid on my back. I didn’t want to die, not unless it was for her. Not because of her. 

“[Y/N], I’m sorry! Please… please don’t let me die. You’re better than that… you’re better than me… you’re different!”

The cock of Namjoon’s gun let me know my time was up. I closed my eyes and waited. I guess I finally lost.

“Wait, don’t shoot!”

Your Point of View

The words left your mouth without you realizing. Namjoon froze and Taehyung opened his eyes, seeing you run towards him. In a matter of seconds, you placed yourself in between him and the professor with your arms spread in a protective stance.

“Don’t kill him,” you begged.

“[Y/N], are you sure?” Namjoon asked. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung try to sit up.

“Stay down!” you shouted at him. Taehyung obeyed and laid as still as a wooden plank. “Don’t fucking move or try anything. I already regret this.” 

You bit your wrist and bent down to the ground, forcing it into Taehyung’s mouth. His eyes widened in alarm, but he drank your blood nevertheless. Once he had his fill, you felt his emotions skyrocket — particularly joy.

“Stay still and stay seated until I tell you to move,” you commanded.

He sat in a criss-cross position, his smile beaming with pure bliss. “You love me. I can tell. I can feel it.”

“Shut up!”

You stood up and Namjoon slung his gun over his shoulder. “You want him alive?”

“I… I don’t know.” You were shaking and pretty soon close to hyperventilation until Namjoon centered you, reminding you that you were in a safe space. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Talk to me.” 

“I… I thought I was doing the right thing. He’s fucking insane, but at the same time… I thought about my childhood abuser. How I shoved him off, how he fell, how he was begging for me to call for help — but nothing was done. I let him die. He deserved it, but that was such an easy way out. He should’ve been rotting in jail or at least atoning for his sins. I didn’t want to do the same thing to Tae.”

“Breathe… breathe…”

You took a deep inhale and then let out a slow exhale. “This time I know about my blood and its healing properties. I couldn’t let him die… I thought I could, but it felt wrong. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Namjoon placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. No more talking down to yourself. You want to save him, then save him. It’s your blood. Now… you mentioned atoning for sins. Do you have something in mind for him?”

You turned your head to the side, seeing him stare at you with such an intensity that it made you self-conscious. 

“Yeah… what are you going to do with me, oh great sire?” He was taunting you, but you didn’t let it deter you. 

“I’m going to compel you to forget me.”

“What?! No. I refuse. Don’t do that, please. My love for you is the only thing that keeps me going. I can’t—”

“Taehyung? Stop talking.”

He had to oblige. Namjoon let go of you, crossing his arms over another. 

“You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes. Because maybe if he didn’t love me, didn’t know me, then he’d be different. He’d be able to focus on himself, finding himself.”

You then tilted your body at a 90 degree angle, startling the man in front of you.

“What are you doing? Why are you bowing?”

“I need your help. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving his arms around and forcing you to stand up straight. “Anything for you. You don’t have to beg.”

“After I compel Taehyung, I need you to help him start a new life. He’s going to be a newborn hybrid. Please take care of him in my stead.”

“I will, I promise. Look… I’ll wait outside the cave while you say your goodbyes.”

You gave him your thanks and he left, the last sound being the creaky iron gate closing behind him. Then you walked over to Taehyung, who was crying softly. 

“Taehyung… stand up. Let me look at you.” He got to his feet right away and you shoved your fingers in his bullet wounds, extracting each bullet out with skill and precision. Taehyung couldn’t even scream until you told him it was okay, so he stood still and endured. Once you were done, you held his face with both hands, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “What do you want to say? Tell me.”

“That I love you s-so much.” He closed his eyes, embracing the warmth of your hands. “Don’t make me forget you.”

“I have to.”

“But you love me too. I know it, don’t lie to me.”

“The sire bond is complicated. It heightens every emotion. You’re confused.”

His eyes fluttered open, a fire burning in his gaze. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You align my soul, [Y/N]. I’m incomplete without you. Please…”

You stood on your tiptoes to press a tender kiss on his forehead. He shuddered beneath you, wishing this moment could last forever. 

“I need you to live your life and find yourself. As much as you say you want to be sired, I’d be withholding your freedom and that isn’t love. It’s abuse.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Not if it’s you.”

“Shh…” You put a finger to his lips, staring deep into his eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.”

Your pupils dilated as your compulsion ability kicked into gear. 

“You will forget about me and your love for me completely. You’re going to live your life and do better, work on yourself, love yourself, understand that this is a second chance at life. Don’t waste it. After I uncuff you, you’re going to walk out of the caves and listen to Namjoon, who will help you learn how to be a hybrid.”

You worked quickly and removed his restraints. He walked out of the cave like a zombie, and you almost wanted to pass out from the stress. It shouldn’t have been that painful, but it was like you ripped off the biggest band aid. Taehyung had burrowed himself into your heart and despite your best efforts to extract all remains of him, he’d left a permanent scar. 

The sire bond with Taehyung, although short-lived, had set your emotions in flux. The intensity of his love for you was very real, the ache in his heart when he was begging you to not erase his memories cut you deep like glass. After you compelled him, it felt like someone sawed your heart in half.

Letting someone go was never going to get easier, but you had one more person to talk to. Another bandaid. Another heartbreak. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

I wished [Y/N]’s father had given me a warning. After placing my hand on the hourglass thingy, black smoke (which I assumed was the dark magic) formed inside. Professor Min had to ask, “How do we know if it worked?” before her dad snapped my neck so fast, almost as if he had waited his entire life to do so. 

Even though I was going to come back to life, it didn’t make it hurt any less. All I could see was darkness. No sound, no sight, just unbearable loneliness. But then I saw a light in the distance and ran towards it. 

The first thing I saw once I opened my eyes was her. She was caressing my head, running her hand through my hair. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were empty. Almost as if she was forcing herself to be present when she didn’t want to be. Still, she was goddamn beautiful. 

I noticed the gauze on her neck and sat up immediately. “Are you okay? Your neck…”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, forcing me to lay back down. “I’m fine. It’s mostly healed anyway, take it easy. You just came back to life.”

I realized I was in my dorm room. Taehyung’s things had been cleared out already, so my side was the only one that had personality to it. I cringed seeing the mess of clothes, posters, and towels on the floor. I would’ve cleaned up had I known she would be here with me. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I died,” I gave her a soft smile as I reminisced about the memory. “Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget? That’s how everything started. The hunters killing you, me giving you my blood, you being sired… you hated it.”

There was a playfulness in her speech that made me chuckle. “I did. Oh, it was humiliating.”

“Yeah, so awful,” she said, playing along. “You hated me.”

“Well… I don’t. I haven’t for a while… and don’t think I ever truly did.”

Her eyes widened a bit and she rubbed her palms on her thighs anxiously. “It’s okay if you did. We were put in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No… it wasn’t.” I sat up with my pillow propped against the headboard and rested my back on top. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have been so mean back then. I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.”

She turned her head to the side, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you apologizing now? We’re past this. Silly.”

“Because you deserve it. You deserve to hear that you were right. About everything. About… him.”

She finally looked at me, slowly retracting her hand, but I held it tightly. I feared if I let go, she’d disappear for good. Something about her hollow gaze earlier left a sinking feeling in my chest. 

“If you’re going to apologize, then be specific.” She sounded exasperated and I wondered if I should’ve said nothing.

“I can sit here and blame Jimin for it all. Like how he kissed me, manipulated me into believing I enjoyed it. I can lie and say he’s the reason I didn’t believe you when I should’ve. But I won’t.”

“What’s your point?”

My voice started to crack as tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m a coward. I was scared. The sire bond ending terrified me. I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore, so maybe I pushed you away. Wanted to find an excuse to hate you, paint you like the villain you never were. I blamed you for things you didn’t do and I was wrong for it.”

No response. She only stared at our hands, so I intertwined my fingers with hers.  

“Please say something,” I begged.

“While I waited for you to wake up, I read Sunghyun’s notebook. He was in love…”

“With you?”

“No. With us. He always rooted for us to be together. In his notes, he put down how much we belong together.” I saw how she was taking in quick breaths to calm down as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“What are you talking about?” 

She stared deep into my eyes, a grave expression on her face. “I’m leaving. Namjoon’s going to help me graduate early.”

“Well, where are you going? I’ll join you.” She shook her head before I finished my response. 

“No. Jungkook, I’m leaving everything. Everyone.”

I held our intertwined hands against my chest. “No. Take me with you. Please.” I kissed the back of her hand, trembling so much that I thought I’d throw up. 

“I can’t. I need to heal, I need space.”

“Then do it. I’ll give you all the space you need. Just don’t make this a goodbye.”

She pulled her hand away from me, using enough force so that I couldn’t stop her. She got up from her seat and turned her back towards me. Her fists tightened as her foot tapped the floor anxiously.

“I’m letting you go, so you can live your life. Just like I did for Taehyung.”

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I scrambled to get out of bed, forcing her to turn around by gripping her shoulders.

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t Taehyung dead? Huh?” I shook her once to get her attention when she remained silent. “Answer me!”

“I gave him my blood.” 

Her words sent my emotions into overdrive. Anger, jealousy, confusion were all fighting for dominance. “What?! Why on earth would you do that? That bastard deserves to be six feet under for everything he’s done!”

She pried my hands off her shoulders like she was repulsed to be touched by me. “Because I could! I have the ability to heal him so how could I just let him die?! I didn’t want his death to be on my conscience!”

“It wouldn’t have been! He would’ve died anyway!” I placed my hands on my hips. “So what, he’s sired to you now? You know damn well he isn’t going to turn 100 times to break it.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a whole damn lot, [Y/N]. He’s won. He wanted you and now he’s got you. And what’s worse is that you don’t seem to mind,” I ran a hand down my face, forcing a laugh at the ridiculous situation, but I was truly dying inside. “He’s tried to kill me, he’s lied, he’s backstabbed you, he was obsessed over you. He—”

“Chose me,” she said, interrupting me. “Despite all of it, he’s chosen me time and time again. I let him live because I wanted him to know I chose him at least once.”

“Do you love him?” I sounded so pathetic, but I had to know. Her silence was eating me alive. “Answer me.”

“If Taehyung had died… I would’ve been destroyed. I couldn’t carry that burden of knowing I could’ve saved him. If anyone were to die by my hands, it should’ve been Jimin.” Her eyes darkened, but I could sense the fury within her. She appeared calm on the surface, which made her even scarier in my eyes as she told me the next part. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Ari took her and Jimin to a prison world.”

“No… I didn’t know,” I breathed. 

“So let me ask you this. If Jimin was here right now and I was about to kill him, would you let it happen?”

My arms slowly fell back down to my sides. My mouth was dry as I tried to form a response, but nothing came out. I felt heavy, anchored to the ground and immobilized by her question. Jimin deserved to die just like Taehyung did. I knew that. Why couldn’t I say anything?

“Do you love him?” she asked. 

“No.” I didn’t sound convincing, but I meant it. 

“See Jungkook? You say you don’t love Jimin, but you would save him too. Despite all he’s done. I can say I don’t love Taehyung, but I saved him anyway. Whether we want to admit it or not, we loved them in some capacity. Maybe not in the way they craved, but we did care for them.”

“Fine. You made your point. But what now, huh? Taehyung’s sired to you.”

She held her hand out in a stop motion. “I’m not finished talking. Taehyung’s… not sired to me. Not anymore.”

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. “How?”

“I compelled him to forget about me.”

I didn’t need a sire bond to know what she was planning to do next. Fortunately, I was quicker than her and pinned her to the bed with my hand covering her eyes. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Please… please don’t do it,” My vision was blurry again with tears. “I know what you’re planning to do and I’m begging you to change your mind.”

She could easily overthrow me, but instead she reached her hand up to caress my face, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “You know me so well…”

“Of course I do. After everything how could I not?” 

“Then you understand why I want to do it.”

“No. I don’t. Is this my punishment? Do you wish for me to suffer?”

“Not at all.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Please let me love you, please… I’m sorry.”

I was crying so much that a tear fell onto her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away and I leaned into her touch, kissing her palm once. 

“I want you to be able to live your life without being weighed down by me. The burden of everything, the trauma bonding—it’s not normal.”

“We’re not normal. Nothing about our lives is ever going to be normal. Maybe it’s not supposed to be.”

“You deserve a clean slate. To start over.”

“What’s the point if you’re not by my side?”

She sat up on the bed, but I didn’t remove my hand from her eyes. “I won’t erase everything. You’ll still remember me, but only as that girl that had a crush on you. How we sparred together sometimes. You won’t remember loving me.”

I gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to shout, but I knew I had to remain calm. It’s hard when you’re a blubbering mess though. “Erasing even a single memory of you is a crime. Each moment was a stepping stone that led me to you. There’s no point in compelling me to forget because my heart will yearn for you and only you.”

“Baby…”

“Without your love, I’m nothing. So please… stay with me. Hold on for a while longer. Let’s heal together.”

She slowly took my hand off her eyes and I let it happen. Next thing I knew, she grabbed me by my shirt, kissing me fervently, so desperate like she was afraid I’d disappear. It was ironic because all I could think about was keeping her close in case she’d vanish first.

I never broke our kiss as I pushed her down onto the bed, my body on top of hers. The way we melded together was perfect. I was made to hold her, to love her, and I wanted to show it. We were both crying because I tasted the saltiness of her tears as I kissed her. 

There was no changing her mind. She knew it, I knew it. This was our goodbye kiss. So I prolonged it as best I could, caressing her face and kissing her deeper than before. 

Then it happened. She caught me by surprise and flipped us around, her body now on top. My eyes opened like a stupid fool and she put her face right in front of me. Another tear cascaded down as her pupils dilated. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

I blinked once, then twice, and my room was now empty. Sitting up, I wiped my tears away and reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a small, dried vervain flower and it burned when it came into contact with my skin. Compared to what I’ve been through, this pain was nothing. My moonlight had left me, fading away for good.

Until our next encounter.

a/n: Again, thank you for reading Moonstruck!!! I cried while writing the ending, I hope I made you feel something too. I do have an AO3 if you'd rather show support over there. Much love! 🌙💗

[muiitoloko]

Heyyy, please tell me there are more Lionel fics on the way?? You’re so good at writing him.

Title: Skype

Summary: Lionel, engrossed in a dull meeting about opening a new California branch, finds unexpected excitement when his wife initiates a bold, intimate act during his call.

Pairing: Lionel Shahbandar × Fem! Reader

Warning; Smut

Author's Notes: Heyyy! 😄 Thanks so much for the love! There are definitely more Lionel fics brewing in my brain—he's just too fun to write! Think of me as a literary mad scientist, concocting more Lionel goodness in my story lab. Stay tuned for more adventures with our favorite character! 🧪📚

Also read on Ao3

Lionel was bored, sitting in his home office, discussing the intricacies of opening a new branch in California via Skype. His baritone voice droned on about potential properties and zoning regulations, but his mind wandered to how he wished he were spending the day with you, his wife of less than three months.

He looked up when he heard the soft hiss of the office door. There you were, a shy smile playing on your lips as you approached him silently. Lionel felt a flicker of excitement but returned to his meeting, attempting to maintain his professional demeanor.

As you knelt between his knees and reached for his belt, Lionel’s heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He tried to push you away, his hands brushing against your shoulders, but it was a half-hearted effort. The prospect of receiving such intimate pleasure while in a meeting was too thrilling to resist.

His voice faltered momentarily as he felt your fingers deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. "Gentlemen, let’s focus on the market research data for a moment," he said, his voice slightly strained as he struggled to maintain his composure.

You freed him from the confines of his underwear, your touch sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. Lionel’s breath hitched, and he clenched the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. He glanced at the screen, praying none of the men noticed the faint tremor in his voice.

"Yes, I believe the property on Wilshire Boulevard could be quite suitable," he managed to say, his voice thick with barely contained desire.

Under the table, you took him into your mouth, your warm, wet lips sliding over his erection with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Lionel’s eyes closed briefly, a shudder of pleasure coursing through him. He bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a moan as you set a torturous pace.

"The property’s... location offers excellent visibility," Lionel continued, his voice wavering slightly as your tongue swirled around the sensitive head of his cock. "And the... amenities are... quite suitable."

His colleagues droned on about property values and market trends, but Lionel’s attention was entirely focused on the exquisite sensations you were creating. He could feel his control slipping, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity as you sucked him with increasing fervor.

"You’re doing this on purpose," he muttered under his breath, his voice a rough whisper meant only for your ears. "Trying to make me lose control."

You responded with a soft, teasing hum, the vibration adding to the intense pleasure that made his hips buck involuntarily. Lionel’s fingers tangled in your hair, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he fought to maintain his composure.

"We need to finalize the budget allocations," one of the men on the call said, drawing Lionel’s attention back to the screen. He forced a smile, his eyes glazed with desire as he tried to focus on the conversation. "I’ll review the figures... and get back to you with a proposal," he replied, his voice trembling with the effort to stay composed.

Your mouth worked him with a relentless, skilled rhythm, your tongue flicking over his slit with every stroke. Lionel’s pulse quickened, his body tensing as he felt himself teetering on the brink of release. "Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice a low, desperate growl. "I’m going to come."

His colleagues continued talking, oblivious to the sensual torment Lionel was enduring. He clutched the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he fought against the overwhelming desire building inside him. "Let’s schedule a follow-up meeting for next week," he said, his voice tight with barely contained lust. "I’ll have more detailed feedback by then."

As the call finally ended, Lionel’s relief was palpable. He ended the meeting with a hasty farewell, then immediately looked down at you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and desire. "You’re incorrigible," he growled, his voice thick with need.

You pulled away, a satisfied smile on your lips as you looked up at him. "I couldn’t resist," you said, your voice a seductive purr. "You looked so serious, and I wanted to see if I could make you lose control."

Lionel’s breath came in heavy gasps, his body trembling with the effort to restrain himself. "Well, you’ve succeeded," he muttered, his hands reaching down to pull you up from under the table. "But now it’s my turn."

He stood up, his eyes dark with a fierce, possessive hunger as he guided you to his desk. Your skirt rode up as he lifted you onto the surface, his hands rough and demanding as he spread your legs wide. "I’ve been thinking about this all day," he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Watching you walk around the house, teasing me with those eyes."

You gasped, your body arching towards him as his fingers traced the outline of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. "Lionel," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea. "Please."

His eyes gleamed with a predatory glint as he pulled your panties aside, exposing your wet, glistening heat to his hungry gaze. "You’re so wet for me," he murmured, his voice filled with a dark, possessive satisfaction. "I want to taste you, make you scream my name."

Before you could respond, Lionel’s mouth was on you, his tongue parting your folds and lapping at your clit with a fierce, relentless rhythm. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling with the intensity of his touch. "Oh, God," you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Yes, Lionel. Don’t stop."

Lionel’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you with a ravenous hunger. His tongue flicked and swirled over your clit, the sensation driving you closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me," he growled against you, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel you come on my tongue."

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the overwhelming need building inside you. "Lionel," you cried, your voice a breathless scream. "I’m so close. Please, don’t stop."

With a final, powerful flick of his tongue, Lionel drove you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless and shaking. You cried out his name, your body writhing beneath his mouth as the pleasure surged through you, every nerve alight with ecstasy.

Lionel continued to lick and suck at your clit, prolonging your orgasm until you were trembling with the aftershocks, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts. "You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice a rough, satisfied growl. "I could do this all day."

You shivered with the lingering pleasure, your mind hazy with the intensity of your release. "Lionel," you whispered, your voice a breathless plea. "I need you inside me. Please."

Lionel’s eyes darkened with a fierce, possessive hunger as he stood up, his erection pressing hot and hard against your entrance. "As you wish," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "But I’m not going to be gentle. I want to fuck you hard. Make you scream my name."

Your breath hitched, your body arching towards him in eager anticipation. "Yes," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "Fuck me, Lionel. Make me scream."

With a low, guttural growl, Lionel thrust into you, the sudden, intense sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you. You cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved with a fierce, relentless rhythm, his hips slamming against yours with each powerful thrust.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice rough with lust. "So tight. So perfect. I want to feel you come around my cock. Scream for me."

Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. "Lionel," you gasped, your voice a breathless scream. "Oh, God. Yes. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop."

Lionel’s movements became more urgent, his hips driving into you with a force that left you breathless, your body arching towards him with each powerful thrust. "I’m going to come," he growled, his voice a rough, desperate whisper. "Come with me. Scream my name."

With a final, shuddering thrust, Lionel felt your muscles clench around him, your orgasm triggering his own. He buried himself deep inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release as he spilled into you, the pleasure so intense it left him gasping for breath.

"Lionel," you cried, your voice breaking with ecstasy. "Oh, God. Yes."

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed together, the echoes of their pleasure still pulsing through them. Lionel’s hands stroked your back soothingly, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured, “You’re incredible, absolutely incredible.”

Your breath came in shaky gasps, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “I love you, Lionel,” you whispered, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and bliss. “So much.”

Lionel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love. “I love you too,” he said softly. “You’re perfect.”

As you and Lionel basked in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, a sudden, discreet throat-clearing sound shattered the intimate atmosphere. You both froze, your eyes widening in alarm. Lionel pushed himself off you, his head snapping up as he looked around the room, searching for the source of the noise.

“Who’s there?” Lionel demanded, his voice a mixture of confusion and a hint of leftover irritation from your previous escapade. His gaze swept over the room but found nothing out of place.

Then, realization dawned on him, and his eyes fell on the laptop. His face turned ashen as he saw the Skype meeting still active, the camera icon dark but the microphone clearly on. The faint sounds of muted laughter and clearing throats echoed from the laptop speakers, confirming his worst fear.

“Uh, Lionel?” one of the men on the call spoke up, his voice tinged with awkwardness. “You turned off the camera, but, um, the audio… well, we could hear everything.”

A wave of mortification washed over you, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You scrambled to cover yourself with a nearby throw, your mind racing with the implications of what they had just heard. “Oh my God,” you whispered, your voice a mixture of horror and disbelief. “They heard everything?”

Lionel, however, remained remarkably composed, his initial shock giving way to a sly, mischievous grin. A gleam of amusement sparkled in his eyes as he turned back to the laptop, clearly unbothered by the situation. “Well, gentlemen,” he drawled, his baritone voice oozing with a cheeky nonchalance, “at least you had the pleasure of listening to the hottest audio show of your lives. Consider it a free sample.”

Your mortification deepened, and you shot Lionel a furious glare, your eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “Lionel!” you hissed, your voice a low, reprimanding whisper. “What on earth are you thinking?”

He merely shrugged, a hint of a sneer curling his lips. “I hate technology,” he replied, his tone almost dismissive. “I don’t know how to deal with these modernities. Besides,” he added with a wink, “you’re the one who started it, love.”

Your fury only intensified at his cavalier attitude, and you reached over to the laptop, your fingers moving swiftly as you ended the Skype meeting with a decisive click. The screen went dark, and you turned back to Lionel, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and lingering desire. “I can’t believe you,” you muttered, your voice filled with a mix of reprimand and reluctant amusement. “You’re impossible.”

Lionel’s eyes gleamed with a playful light, his expression unapologetic as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “And yet you love me,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “Despite my quirks.”

You couldn’t help but soften slightly at his words, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I suppose I do,” you admitted, your voice a whisper filled with affection. “But you’re still in trouble for that little stunt.”

Lionel chuckled softly, his fingers trailing down your arm in a soothing, affectionate caress. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, his voice a low, reassuring murmur. “Starting with a very long, very thorough apology.”

Your irritation melted away as his touch and words enveloped you in a warm, comforting embrace. Despite the mortifying incident, you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull Lionel had on you, his cheeky charm and mischievous nature endearing him to you even in moments of chaos.

As you settled back into each other’s arms, the memory of the Skype call faded into the background, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your breaths mingling together. Despite the embarrassment and Lionel’s incorrigible attitude, you knew that his unwavering love and playful spirit were what made your relationship so uniquely vibrant and fulfilling.

[angstigone]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲 (𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲) (𝟑/𝟒)

the title is a lyric from the song 'give me everything' by pitbull (feat ne-yo and afrojack)

𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘂 𝘅 𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗮! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗔𝗨)

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 (𝟭): 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 (𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱) 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟐) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮) 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝟑): '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭) 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

before going any further I'd just like to put this disclaimer that I am absolutely not responsible for any emotional damages that will come from reading this chapter and I apologize for any possible trauma unlocked.

I am sorry.

with this being said as always, I'd love to hear your opinions through reblogs and comments, as they do make me write faster and better and I am going to be tagging @ffsg0jo and @arcielee!

also last night I got hit by an extreme yearning for nanami and an idea for a regency/bridgerton au for his as well, so pls be warned and let me know whether you liked the idea (it's very 'princess and the pauper' barbie, because - according to me - that's the movie with the best prince).

have a nice day!

SUMMARY: when all your and your husband's secrets comes finally up.

You had never thought throughout your life that it’d be Satorou Gojo who would be feeling awkward being stared down by your beloved brother while you sat beside your mother and recounted to her the wonders of your new position, starting from the wondrous gardens you could wander into, any day to your heart’s content. «… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission. 

WARNINGS: angst, mention of past child abuse and familial complexities, slight toxic behaviors between reader and gojo, mention and discussion of sex (not graphic) and a character suggesting that reader put on weight (although not in a mean way), geto suguru being #1 shipper of this, she/her pronouns, afab character, regency/bridgerton au.

It felt silly how happy you now felt after the utter sadness that you had gone throughout your first day of marriage, as you lightly pushed your husband away from your gowns; he had meant to hide his face underneath while the carriage came to an halt, signaling further that Satorou’s misbehavior was done for the day.

«Enough, Satorou!» you further conveyed your displeasure although it did little as you felt your cheeks burn lightly with the strain that happiness took upon your mouth «… we have arrived! What… what would your staff say if their first sight of me, you bride, was to be defiled by your dirty hands?».

«My hands aren’t dirty» it shouldn’t surprise you, by now, that Satorou took offense also upon this comment «… and I’d say that’d be a rather… amusing and entertaining way to introduce yourself».

And just like that the scoundrel was beneath your skirts, barely kissing upon a thigh before you closed your legs swiftly and kicked lightly to his abdomen to ensure that he’d get the clear indication that such thing wouldn't be happening anytime soon. 

Not at least till you were in the safety of your bedrooms.

Since the first night of marriage, and Satorou’s desire to be soft with you, you had found yourself enjoying greatly your wifely duties; you were addicted upon them as Satorou gently slithered between your legs and kissed up and down your legs till you flustered and told him to ‘rush through it’.

“Rush?” he had questioned, almost offended, as one of his hands slightly bent a knee to the side to further expose yourself to his glacial gaze “... why would I do such a stupid thing, when I have you right where I want you?”.

Although the act, itself, was painful in part, you had grown to feel quite… satisfied and pleasured as Satorou would always ensure your own … gratification, whether it came from his own, his hands or his mouth, a devilish thing that had you definitely in less than proper situations.

Still, you didn’t wish for that to be the first impression to his own staff and underlings.

In all truth, you felt nervous: you weren’t all too sure of Satorou’s own feelings although he had made sure to show you, not just by performing his ‘husbandly’ duties, but also laying next to you comfortably in bed, tangled hands and breathy soft words whispered right in your ears.

“You are a dream, my lady”.

“My sweet, sweet darling wife”.

“You make such pretty noises, my little darling”.

«Well, I don’t think that it’d be entertaining for anybody truly but you» you huffed, forgetting how cute Satorou found it as he dismissed your annoyance with a light smirk, albeit he did raise up to sit where he was supposed to you while he asked to the carriage driver for a moment «… hey! No! Don’t stall! Or they’ll think…».

«… that I wish to spend time with my newly-wed wife?» he made it sound so simple and innocent, although you worried about your new status as his countess. 

It was a huge jump to move from a lady onto such a title and seeing the rumors that spread across town around your hasty marriage, you weren’t particularly eager to discover what it meant all too soon.

«Darling, my sweet sweet darling… what concerns you?».

And he kindly went so smooth the expression wrinkles that appeared right on your bows.

It was in such situations that you wondered whether your mother was right, about this being the time that Gojo fell for you. 

And you did as well.

«It’s just… it feels, like… a big jump to become a … countess» you admitted, as your words felt so utterly stupid «… what … what if … I do worry about what others are going to say, especially as I…».

«Why do you care?».

In another situation, you’d have thought Gojo to be utterly arrogant with his assumption, buthis tone felt genuine as if he truly couldn’t fathom why she might care for others’ opinion. 

As if such a thought didn’t occur to him, which might be in part truthful since he was never concerned with others’ opinions.

Otherwise they wouldn’t have been here to begin with.

«I…» and worst of all: you didn’t have an immediate reply for him. 

In all truth, you couldn’t even fathom why you had been nervous to begin with, and when you finally came up with it, you couldn’t help but fluster upon realizing that you cared for others’ opinions because of how it might reflect on Satorou.

«… if you can’t find a reason after being questioned, I am sure that you shouldn’t take it with such a strong consideration» Satorou deliberated as if it wasn’t obvious, grabbing her hand while his other reached for the handle of the carriage and you were the one stalling, pulling on the hand in your own.

«Please…!» you pleaded unsure «… I just… well, I do worry of… my worst behavior befalling onto you… my… my…».

«If the next word befalling your mouth is ‘husband’, I will shove my head between my thighs again to teach you a lesson».

You flustered immediately at his bold declaration as you hid your head swiftly in your hands turning away from him.

«… and please… if anything, I don’t think that anything that you do might make me worse in their eyes. Most of them have been with me since I was a young child and my sole amusement was bothering and pranking them».

The thought of a mischievous child, a small blueyed one had you almost open your mouth in awe as you felt a slight glee at the soft confession made by your husband.

«I just… it’s just… not… I never thought I’d be here».

«Me neither» Satorou admitted gently, although the tense softness in his tone implied that he wasn’t annoyed with such a result «… but I have known you for a good chunk of your life and I do know you to be lively, gentle and smart».

«You knew me as a child» you couldn’t help but slightly protest «… and you didn’t particularly like me».

«A pity and a misjudgement on my part» Gojo joked lightly, although as soon as he noticed your dampened mood he went to add more seriously «… I might not have known you that well, but I could already see that you’d become somebody insanely too good. And then you grew up to be a wonderful woman and even though it’s true - we don’t know each other very well -, I do… believe that you’d make a wonderful lady of the household».

Why did this man that you had known - truly - for so little seemed to know you better than yourself?

He seemed to know how to make you cry, long for him and comfort you.

Was it maybe meant for you to be husband and wife?

«And if you ever falter, my dear…».

Oh you perfectly knew that tone as you readied yourself for any comment.

«… don’t worry, I’ll help you through it. I won’t punish you too harshly, fear not».

And with a mischievous look that got you wondering what he entailed for ‘punishing’ you, he went to open the door and you were promptly faced with the entirety of the Gojo’s household staff. 

The maids were all prim and proper while the men had their heads lowered not meeting your eyes as Satorou brought you to the main entrance right as an elderly woman moved forward.

«It’s good for you to be back, master Gojo».

«No need for such honorifics, granny»-

It shouldn’t have surprised you that your husband could be disrespectful also to his own staff, although the woman didn’t register any annoyance nor offense while her eyes swiftly moved upon you. 

You flustered and felt your cheeks heat up as you underwent ‘the examination’.

Thankfully the older woman didn’t find you lacking. 

Nor extraordinary.

«… my lovely bride, the former young lady Haibara».

«Her ladyship» the woman bowed, although with the same reverence she reserved towards Gojo and you could only guess you had yet to earn it «… hope the journey wasn’t long. We heard of the storm and of your extra-stop».

«Why are you asking her such a thing?» Satorou complained lightly «… and I’ll have you know that the journey was dreadful and I couldn’t wait to be home. In my own bed. And not in the sopping, wet…».

«It was fine» you quieted Satorou’s monologue, and earned a slight smile from the older lady «… although as my lord husband said I am glad to be ho… to be here».

You caught yourself in the mistake as you were yet unsure whether you could call this place your own ‘home’. 

Whether it'd be disrespectful.

Either way the head of the staff didn’t comment on your faux-pas, instead breathing heavily and gesturing for the staff to start collecting your luggage as she started to speak again.

«… I have already assigned a personal maid to you, my lady. Haina is a kind girl and she shall be at your utter service. I shall fetch her after I have given you a tour of the mansion and…».

«I shall take you onto such a task» Satorou butted in as he shouldered past the older woman, much to your displeasure since you were worried you might be believed as rude for disrupting her plan. 

Instead as you turned to at least a soft ‘I am sorry’, you found a complacent smile on her face as she didn’t protest any further and Satorou brought you alongside himself.

For a tour you saw so little as you were, instead, brought into what seemed like a private alcove and as you were halfway through asking for an explanation, your husband’s lips were pressed tenderly against your own while his hands went to grab your waist. 

«Satorou!» you tried to chastise him, earning little to no reaction, as Satorou kept pressing his lips to your own,almost childishly «… we are supposed to be proper! On a tour!».

«And I am giving you a tour!» Satorou protested, almost offended and for a moment you thought that you had just been in bad faith, as he meant to show you something and just kissed you in the heat of the moment «… of all the best places to sneak away when things around the manor get boring, this way you know where to come when you little, pretty head gets all overwhelmed, alright, my darling?».

If anybody else - such as your own brother - had ever spoken to you with such a patronizing tone, you’d have immediately shut them down. 

Instead with Satorou - as if his own personality was rubbing off onto you - you couldn’t help but giggle in defeat as you went to press your own lips to his, while you felt his hand moving from your waist onto raising your dress.

In that moment, you could care less about what the staff thought of their new countess.

«… and then raising the taxes would ensure a better and more stable situation for the spring festival».

Satorou inevitably droned out the chatter of his advisors as they went onto the current situation of the estate, since they had requested this reunion to ensure that he’d be updated about the state of his affairs.

As if  he wasn’t always updated, enough that he seemed to know everything going on.

Nothing went unnoticed in his domain, as if he had eyes behind his head.

Although right now he could care less of having everything under control as his gaze trailed after where you and Haina, your personal maid, were chatting about anything.

A blanket laid down on the gorgeous gardens of his estate as you enjoyed the slight heat of the incoming spring under the watchful gaze of Ina, his old nanny and current head of the staff.

You were wearing a pale pink dress that suited your skin tone. 

You wore your hair down as you oftentimes did whenever you wouldn’t be leaving the estate grounds and you looked honestly thriving.

Never Satorou Gojo would have believed that marriage would have suited him, but right now with the way you were eagerly explaining some game on a board to Haina, he couldn’t help but believe that there might be an exception sometimes.

«My lord?» his attention still was requested on other matters, as one of his advisors called him out. 

A grin on the man’s face as if he thought to have caught Gojo in a mistake and the white haired count retorted with one of his own.

«… did we.. did we distract you?».

On his deathbed, his father had told not to trust anybody.

Not a single advisor.

“They are just dirty little fucking parasites just waiting for the right moment to snatch up everything you built” he had told Satorou, while holding his hand, a gesture that had startled the younger boy he had been as his father hadn’t ever been that affectionate “... you can only trust family so be sure to choose attentively and…”.

“And I shall never have such a thing” Satorou had spat out as he had swiftly sent his father’s hand flying down “... I have no intention to pursue the continuation of your lineage. Our dynasty dies with me”.

«No, you didn’t» he counterattacked swiftly the advisor’s insinuation who looked at him like the cat who got the milk as he didn’t think that his count was being truthful «… what’s distracting me is the idea of you wishing to raise the taxes right by the spring festival! It’d make them all hate us even more… not to talk about the fact that it’s counterproductive to have our dearest subjects have nothing to show in a festival because we took everything away, don’t you think?».

The advisor was pale, as Satorou hadn’t only effectively fought him off but also won.

Spectacoriously so.

«… we shall, if anything, lower the taxes. On the behalf of the new countess» he commented as he knew such a move would have won many hearts and this would have gotten you definitely more at ease, as since first coming into your role your nervousness hadn’t left you, no matter his assurance and calm. 

You worried about whether you were liked enough and proper by the standards, having oftentimes sought out the governess and Haina for any help in settlements and organization, especially as your arrival had been so close to the spring festival.

You had sent Gojo away from his bed one night as he kept on distracting you with languid and soft kisses. 

“I have urgent business to attend” you had ushered him away as Satorou - the lovesick fool - let himself be dragged away.

“Isn’t your husband a matter to attend to?” he had teased you just to see the embarrassment heat you up wholly as you wore a slightly sheer pinkish nightgown that he had wished to rip from the moment that he had seen upon entering your chambers. 

He had kept his parents’ traditions of a separate bedroom, if anything to let you have the time to settle and calm although he’d often visit you and sleep in the same bed.

“... what a prudish wife I have found for myself”.

“Satorou!” you had whined as a slight doubting gaze appeared upon your face “... I shall attend to you. Just… just later”.

Oh, how he loved your bashfulness!

He had slept with you just two times, the first on the night at the tavern with your soft mewls of innocence being ripped away as he tried to hold himself back; what he had felt for you in the garden couldn’t be compared to the intensity perceived in that moment when every gentle kiss you pressed to his cheeks reeking of gratitude had him as inflamed as an heated touch.

The second time had been in the house as you had been the one to seek him out gently as he was at his desk dealing with some of the unfinished business that he had left behind to join the ball season.

“... can we… can we do it again?” your shyness had been rewarded by Satorou through a gentle surrender of his own as he let you do as you pleased with his body, cackling at your eagerness mixed with nervousness “... do you think I shall be soon with child?”.

“Oh” the memory was immediately soured by Satorou’s denial for such a thing although he hadn’t worded it properly taken by the panic at the discovery that you might want children “... I can’t… you see I…”.

You had seemed shocked and Satorou had thought this the moment when you left him, when you saw him as the crook he was and regretted the marriage, but instead your eyes had saddened not soured.

“I am sorry” you had spoken gently as your hand had caressed his arm, while Satorou thought he should have been the one to tell you so.

“Why, my love?” he aimed to seek out the further reasoning behind your mercy, as he had gently caressed your cheeks already feeling a slight dampness.

“... children are blessings and I had always hoped to give to my children a sibling as I was to Yo” you had spoken gently and earnestly and Satorou had felt a pang of pain in his chest “... either way I don’t… I don’t mind, Satorou”.

“Do you?” he had sought out confirmation “... truly?”.

And you had nodded eagerly, cuddling yourself closer to him.

“I don’t mind it being just the two of us, you know?” you had even giggled so cutely that for a moment Satorou had felt in heaven “... and in the end if you can’t have children…there isn’t much to be done”.

And it had hit Satorou that you thought he couldn’t have - biologically - children, not because he refused to spend his seed into you as he was too stubborn to go back against a binding vow murmured with hatred towards his father to spite the Gojo dynasty.

You had fallen asleep in his arms while he had stayed awake, thinking that the incoming morning he had to tell you that you had misunderstood him and he was too selfish to give you what you wished for. 

Still, he hadn’t been able to bring himself as you gently woke up in his arms, kissing the open palm of his hand and saying how happy you were with each other.

He had told himself, he’d tell you. 

Eventually.

He didn’t enjoy the thought of lying and withholding the truth, but with time passing he couldn’t help but feel like his eventual punishment would have become tenfold.

Oh avoidance.

«If the matter is closed…».

Such dark thoughts had him aching for you, as he saw that you and Haina had raised up from your spot, probably going inside for your afternoon bath since the following day you were to leave the Gojo residence to visit your family. 

He wasn’t eager to know the sensation of Haibara’s eyes stabbing him but he also could tell just how traumatic being uprooted into your new place could be and he wished for you to be close to your family, since you had one that loved you so much.

«… actually there are more… ahem… matters that require your atten…» the advisor who had tried to have him make a faux-pas spoke again, and this time Gojo didn’t withhold the subtle hatred in his gaze.

«If the matter is as stupid as the one you brought forward, I think that such things can wait for my return».

For now he was far more interested in discovering whether he’d be in time to catch you before you slipped in your bath or he’d join you directly. 

You had never thought throughout your life that it’d be Satorou Gojo who would be feeling awkward being stared down by your beloved brother while you sat beside your mother and recounted to her the wonders of your new position, starting from the wondrous gardens you could wander into, any day to your heart’s content.

«… you should visit us before the good season ends, Haibara» you muttered softly as both your brother and husband startled and after a meaningful look they both resulted into a merciful submission. 

You’d have laughed, hadn’t it been that you had sworn to yourself that you’d behave in front of your family as you had a devious plan for Lady Murasaki.

Gojo had informed you that he’d be leaving you for a few hours as he had a few matters to attend to in the city and you had told him that such a thing didn’t bother you.

“I’ll visit some friends I have left behind” you had insisted as he was worried that you’d feel alone “... and if I do feel all too lonely, my brother will be more than happy to keep me company”.

In all truth, you wouldn’t have gone to any friends, but you’d have met the typist to have the latest pamphlet out, a clear answer to those who had doubted your marriage to count Gojo. 

You couldn’t help but pinprick of slight guilt at not only going behind Gojo’s back but also because you had yet to reveal to him your identity of Lady Murasaki but how could you though?

Throughout your career as a pamphleteer you had insulted and made fun of him and the thought of ruining your steady pace in the marriage right when it felt so blooming was heartbreaking and nerve wracking.

No, this was a secret you’d have taken to the grave.

Or so you had hoped as you rushed through the busy street of the industrial part of town, clad in a thick woolen coat to conceal your identity, to meet right in time the printer.

So taken by your worry to be on time you hadn’t noticed when a burly black haired lord had bumped right into you, lightly cursing underneath your breath while the gentleman you had clashed into giggled, clearly having heard what you had said but most importantly revealing to be none other than your husband’s partner-in-crime, Suguru Geto.

You startled, especially as a look of surprise settled on the man’s face as he recognized you.

No, no this couldn’t be happening.

You didn’t have a proper excuse for why you were on this side of the town as it’d have contrasted with your promise to meet with friends that you had told Gojo. 

What if Geto told him that he had met you? 

How could you justify yourself?

«Lady Hai… I mean countess» he curtsied to you gentlemanly, further having you in a flurry of panic as you tried to come up with a proper excuse for your presence there.

Saying that you had lost yourself would have been far too unbelievable and you had no reason or purpose to be there, unlike him who had just exited what seemed like a bawdy tavern.

«What a delightful surprise!».

«Truly» you suppressed your unease through gritted teeth «… I am in a ru…».

«I had meant to ask Satorou how you were settling» and yet the black-haired man completely ignored your necessity pushing you in place by kindly helping you up as he kept the distance at an arm’s length «… after all that mess with your brother and the duel… I had worried that you might be… well, that the marriage might be doomed from the start. Especially as Satorou seemed so nervous, I had to give him a few words of encouragement to have him still his overthinking…».

«I am indebted to you for that» you muttered attentive to keep the obvious annoyance you felt to yourself as the memory of your marriage ceremony wasn’t the brightest in your mind with you and Satorou being at each other’s back, turned and worried «… now if you could just let me throu…».

«Why in such a rush?» oh that shit-eating grin, you’d have loved to write a peculiar column onto it on your pamphlets.

Wait, you actually had and that had you slightly smirking.

«… I didn’t know that you had any business in such a place».

Oh, how easily he had caught you, still you tried for the unease not to be shown on your face, as not to further compromise your situation.

As you were halfway through giving a meek answer, you noticed that lord Geto’s attention was caught by something on the ground and as you shifted your gaze on the dirtied floor you realized that your book had fallen and all the original pamphlet drafts were now in part scattered to the ground, much to your horror. 

That just worsened when you saw the lord gentlemanly dipping down to collect the papers before you could stop him.

«Oh you must be mailing letters, aren’t …» and then you knew for sure that you had been caught «… what… what… why are these papers signed by none other than Lady Murasaki?».

You knew that there must be some kind of lie that would have gotten you out of this situation but you were in much too shock to properly react as Geto gently but sternly grabbed your arm and brought you in the first secluded pastry nearby, before he started to hiss angrily.

«You… you are lady Murasaki?».

Well, you couldn’t blame his anger, as you had oftentimes made fun of his pompous behavior at balls, although it startled what he said next.

«… does… does Satorou know about it?».

Your silence was an answer enough and Geto lightly grimaced before he started again:

«Do you… how can you keep such a secret from him?».

The way he sounded almost paternalistically had you finally snap out of your trance as you regarded him with a tight glare.

«That’s neither your own or his business!».

«Oh but it is» Ghetto seethed lowly «… do you… do you have any idea whatLlady Murasaki had done to him or me?».

You startled at the obvious accusation before again regaining your tight defense.

«None that can be brushed off easily within a few seasons» you said haughtily «… what about the ladies that you and Satorou made fun of? Or fooled for nothing but the pleasure of your own egos!».

«I’d be careful of how you speak about such matters, especially as one of those men is your husband» Geto said cuttingly and albeit you were trying not to raise anything you couldn’t help but feel a slight guilt at the reminder that you had oftentimes belittled Satorou in your tireades.

Still, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Satorou had an ego for days and in truth, everybody would have forgiven him for the most heinous of shit, simply because he was… Satorou Gojo.

You, yourself, found it extremely difficult to be mad at him for the way he had behaved when you were both younger and yet, here you were betraying him by posting again as lady Murasaki.

«… and you have no idea how much of the damage you have done by creating this little persona».

Oh that was enough: your ethics might be flawed but you wouldn’t have let yourself be so harshly spoken to by a scoundrel such as Suguru Geto:

«You have no idea of how little freedom we women have. And how much you men behave as our own masters. So, let me have this little freedom: to warn women of the ridiculous dangers of high society before it’s too late».

Geto seemed definitely taken aback by your spiel, although he was quick to continue your verbal sparring:

«You have little to no idea of what you have caused,Llady Murasaki» being called by your pen name had you definitely scrunching your eyebrows «… you have truly no right to write… such… heinous things!».

«And yet… are they untrue?» you held Geto’s gaze knowing that he couldn’t deny the truth, although he still huffed and finally declared.

«You have to tell Satorou».

«Not at all» Lady Murasaki was your own creation, and if you didn’t wish Satorou to know, you wouldn’t have told him.

«You do» Geto insisted as he sent a slight look your way, although not one of haughtiness or reprimand but genuine concern «… if he discovers it any other way… it’d be… it’d be bad».

«Satorou… Satorou isn’t like that».

You don’t think that your husband would have hurt you in anyway an husband might but somehow you knew that Geto’s words would be true: if Satorou discovered about this, he’d definitely… be hurt and such a thought had you… terribly guilty.

«… what… it’ll hurt to know, now».

«And it won’t lessen the pain with time, if you don’t tell him» Geto promptly insisted «… I’ll give you a month then you have to tell him, understood?»

You couldn’t help but be utterly offended at Geto’s audacity to tell you what to do, as he wasn’t your father nor your husband and although he was looking out for a friend, he had also put his nose in business that didn’t concern him.

Still, it also hit you the finality with which Geto spoke: he wasn’t bluffing, he’d have told Gojo.

The thought terrified you, although deep down you felt a sort of contentment at finally having a way to liberate yourself from the heavy weight of your second identity, especially before it became all too troublesome.

«I… I’ll tell him» you promised your voice slightly wavering «… but after the spring festival».

«I’ll agree to that» Geto muttered much more calmly «… but first I… can I ask you what got you to start writing such things? I… I have known you and your brother for a bit and I didn’t…».

«… didn’t think I was capable of writing such things?» you shot back slightly smiling sadly «… well I… in all truth, I think that I did it because you didn’t think myself capable of doing such things. I… you always thought me to be some naive little child and it was also… my way of regaining power over a life on which I didn’t have control».

«But… but you are a countess now!» Geto harshly protested, although there was a bit of disbelief as if he couldn’t believe that she had felt this way and instead of angering you, you felt  a bit pacified by his comment.

«Don’t… don’t… mistake my words… I am happy with… Satorou… but… but I never had a choice in what I wanted. Nor my life, nor my debut and especially not my marriage. I am lucky that it worked out, but for all those ladies who are too naive for the world and stuck in horrible matches?» you couldn’t help but smile a bit awkwardly as you felt silly at revealing such things «… well, I wished to simply warn them».

The silence that fell between you and Geto wasn’t uncomfortable, if anything there was a slight exchange of thoughts that couldn’t be said out loud.

«And if anything… my last pamphlet was about how happy the newest countess had been with her love match. Is it the time that Gojo Satorou settles?» you joked feigning a wondrous surprise as Geto laughed lowly.

«Ever think that you’ll put a good word for me?» he asked gently albeit a bit humorously.

«Oh don’t even think about it!».

Satorou had always been peculiarly nosy with the things of others, and his governess had always insisted that such a thing would have him in trouble.

He couldn’t certainly expect that such a thing would happen in the worst time possible.

The spring festival had been a success, much to your obvious comfort as you smiled happily accepting the townspeople flowers and compliments while Satorou stood by your side gently, letting you for once shine as he hadn’t ever realized till this moment just how little you tended to make yourself feel for others. 

He wouldn’t have accepted such a thing from now, he had thought upon realizing such a fact.

You were flustered and sweet as you came back home in the carriage, your hands threaded together as you recounted every little detail possible, as if he hadn’t been right there by your side. It made him happy that you were as well and somehow glad for this marriage of convenience, as for the first time he felt like it might work. 

That it might still give him a family although on his happiness a slight concern appeared as he worried not only for the lie he had given to you but also that - as always - his apparent happiness might be destroyed by a shadow of the past.

He dreaded that he had yet to tell you the truth about why he couldn’t have children and although he had grown to enjoy your time spent together, he hadn’t yet been able to be vulnerable to you, shooting down any inquiry of your own towards his family. 

You didn’t seem to take it to heart but for how long would this go before you took offense and realized that your husband was far too closed off and impenetrable?

As for you, you seemed quite the open book, hence he was startled upon stumbling on your desk in something that wasn’t decidedly your usual correspondence.

He hadn’t meant, in all truth, to snoop around, instead searching for a document that he had left in your room the previous night as he had spent - as always, the night with you - any semblance of duty being forgotten upon the sight of your rosy cheeks at the glass of wine that you had taken at dinner as you boldly commanded him around having fallen into your role as a countess.

He had startled when after the act, you had gently brought him close to you and shyly told him that you’d never hurt him.

“Not on purpose, you must know” and you had been close to saying anything that had Gojo wandering but you hadn’t added anything, snuggling in his naked chest instead.

As he looked around for the document, he had noticed it being laid upon your desk, probably from the place where he had stuck it, as you were far more orderly than him but his eyes were taken aback when he read your elegant calligraphy.

“It is without a doubt that the match between the count and countess has proved to be quite the talk of the season. Especially bad mouth if I may say. Are people of the ton so jealous that they haven’t been ensnared by a pair of pretty eyes and a smart mouth?

Enough poison towards sweet and naive lady Haibara, she must know no less…”.

He had known that tone perfectly, as it had been the one of the lady that had tormented him thoroughly: Lady Murasaki, the court gossiper and his harshest enemy, who turned out to be none other than his own wife.

He startled at the realization, releasing at once the paper and although he knew that it was a terrible idea he snooped around his wife’s room till he found a box that revealed a small treasure: the original drafts of the pamphlet further pointing out one single solution: that his wife was none other than lady Murasaki.

“Is this the season that count Gojo delights us by putting himself off the market? The ton could use a bit of less gaudiness in its seasons!”.

“Whenever lord Geto and count Gojo are together, the recipe for disaster has already started”.

“It is certainly without a doubt that if you can train a horse to stand on its lower legs, you can also train count Gojo to become a proper husband”.

Your satyre wasn’t as stinging as some of the comments that Gojo had ever received form his own parents or preceptors and had it been anybody but you, he’d have laughed at the ridiculous way in which you had described. 

Still, it was you… his own wife who had written such staggering comments and it had him definitely feeling a bit crushed…

… betrayed.

Why… why had you written such things?

And why had you agreed to marry him? 

Certainly to save your brother, but you had also agreed upon his help, which had thrown the two of you in this mess.

His head was spinning and it didn’t happen often for Satorou Gojo to feel this way.

He wished to confront you, to speak directly with you but at the same time, the thought that you had… you thought of him this way had him further retreating into himself. 

After all, hadn’t his father said that he shouldn’t have trusted anybody? 

He should have known that applied to family as well, as his own dreams of domesticity were promptly disrupted.

Maybe respecting his vow would be easier than he thought.

You couldn’t help but lightly grimace as Haina adjusted the dress upon you since the slight happiness of your marriage had you a bit chubbier on your stomach. 

Not that you minded as the recent worries definitely had you starving, since Gojo had become quite distant to you in the latest period, blaming it onto incoming matters, which you understood. 

He was count and you were countess, but the way he didn’t let you in anymore as he had at the start of your marriage was almost… painful.

And it didn’t help you with the thought of telling him about the fact that you were lady Murasaki. 

The spring festival had passed and although Geto had accepted to give you a further day you didn’t know how to breach the topic when your husband seemed so distant. 

Had he… had he grown bored with you, already?

«My lady, not that… but did you put on some weight?» albeit enjoying Haina’s gentle and quiet nature, she could be quite nosy and a tad brash «… I merely ask because… well, it’s been a few months since your… your marriage and it wouldn’t be… it wouldn’t be unsightly for you to be with child». 

Immediately your frown deepened and Haina noticed that she had spoken wrongly.

«Not that… not that you are ugly or… anything, her ladyship! You are as pretty as the day he brought you home and if anything men just simply enjoy a bit more to hold…».

«We can’t have children» you spat out although you weren’t sure whether Gojo would have allowed you to tell anybody else «… I… the lord can’t give me children. That’s why I frowned not at your words, Haina. Although thank you for comforting me».

Haina seemed taken aback and for a moment you worried whether she’d have tried to awkwardly comfort you again, before a slight fluster filled her face.

«… who… who told you such a thing, my lady?».

You startled at her slight noisiness and the way she seemed to doubt your words.

«The count, of course».

«Well, then I… mean… it is a surprise I…».

The two of you were startled when a door slammed open revealing Mrs. Kinawa, the governess who had greeted you upon your arrival with Gojo, and who oftentimes came to you as a mother duck with a wandering duckling afraid of dipping its toes in the water.

«What’s this nonsense I am hearing?» although you enjoyed her presence, you felt like oftentimes this woman would be brusque - and no differently from Haina quite nosy. 

You regarded her with a slight embarrassment as she went on while Haina was quick to try to finish your dressing if anything to avoid the burden of a conversation that was changing.

«… the count doesn’t have a problem in that department. I have been with him since he was a child and I’d have known if any terrible sickness had struck him down. Gods, if anything I’d have cheered».

«But…!» you went to protest lightly, not believing that Gojo would lie to you about such a matter; and why would he «… that’s what he told me! And I… I don’t mean to well, I don’t mean to bother you Mrs. Kinawa or undermine you but…».

«Has he inserted himself inside of you girl?» you startled at the crass and bold words of the older woman, regarding her with a slight fear while Haina pretended not to have heard you as she dashed with the dirtied towels out of the room although you wouldn’t have been surprised if you caught her snooping around the door «… do tell me, this way we can assure ourselves that that scoundrel at least does his marital duties».

«He … has» you felt a slight fluster in admitting, especially as Gojo was your first man. And the sole one, probably «… it has… happened a few times… but I… maybe it isn’t… it isn’t that he can’t… rise to the occasion».

«As long as his seed is spent on you, darling girl, it’ll do just fine» again those startling words although this time it was for a very different reason: Gojo… he… he didn’t spill himself into you. 

He’d be crying about how close he was and immediately push himself away from you. 

You hadn’t thought anything of the pearly white liquid that oftentimes stained his hands and the sheets, thinking that maybe he thought it far impure for his wife as you had always been told - in the rudimental anatomy lessons you had been given- that you’d be with child the moment that he … inserted himself into you.

«… girl, don’t tell me that you don’t know how the act is done. You have been married for a few good months!».

«I… I… back at home I… I wasn’t taught about it, I just… well, I do know the… bases but… something… does he… does he need to spend himself into… me for me to bear a child?» because if that was what was needed it now was obvious why you weren’t with child, yet. 

And that Gojo had lied to you.

You felt your head heavy with all these thoughts as you tried to be rational, thinking that maybe he hadn’t meant to or there must be a further medical explanation that neither you nor Mrs. Kinawa could reach and the best way was to confront him, which you did once the dressing was finished and the governess informed you further about the nature of sex, as you felt extremely awkward and stupid. for having believed Gojo.

If he had lied to you, you couldn’t help but feel… further betrayed. He had known… your lack of expertise and taken advantage of it. 

Still, for what reason? 

Had he told you that he didn’t wish for children - which you didn’t believe at all - you’d have maybe hidden your desire for them. 

Still, it should have been your choice together, not his own solely.

By the time you exited your rooms you were startled with the rage you felt, which hadn’t inhabited your body for a long time since being married to Satorou, startling him as you opened the door to his studio, uncaring that he didn’t wish to be disturbed.

«What’s the matter?» he asked, concern lacing his beautiful eyes and for a moment you held hesitation for your words: you had your own secrets and he had his, it was only right that you felt like a hypocrite for your indignation, although such a situation couldn’t go on.

If he told you about why he didn’t wish for children with you, you’d have told him about lady Murasaki.

«I have heard… an interesting conversation about… well, about the fact that you have lied to me about your inability to…» you flustered although the rage in your body shook you lightly with emboldened confidence «… conceive».

He seemed startled like a child caught in the act and it all crumbled onto you: for the entire road to his studio, you had thought that this had to be a mistake in having understood him on your part. 

That he hadn’t lied to you and that maybe things could be fixed but faced with his obvious lie, you felt your breath stall and your heart stammer.

«You… you lied to me».

«Close the door» he was quick to say, instead of coming close to you and consoling you although you immediately noticed that his hand had gripped onto the desk tightly and his body seemed shaken by a tension as well. 

Still, he held nothing of his usual tenderness. 

Was it possible that his entire change of demeanor had been because of worrying he’d be caught in his lie?

You complied with his order although the moment that the door was closed you ushered closer to him with an angered tone:

«Why… why did you lie to me?!» you asked as he kept on being dejected, although in his eyes there was something akin to an utter sadness.

«I don’t think that you should be asking honesty out of me when you were the first one that lied» he promptly shot back and before you had the time to process, he went onto adding «… Lady Murasaki».

For the second time in a day you felt the earth beneath your feet unsteady as you immediately thought who might have told him; you doubted that Geto would have lied to you, although Gojo was his best friend. He was an honorable lord and it’d have just hurt Gojo further to discover the news from him and not you. As he was right now.

This also explained his mood of the past few weeks as everything settled in place.

  «I’d… I’d have told you» it did little to ease the guilt in her chest, as he regarded her like a liar «… would you?».

«Would you have really told me that you are the woman behind the pen that made fun of me and my friend?» he went on, shooting back poisonously as you felt like you couldn’t blame him fully for the obvious distaste he had for your alter ego, although you were stalled from what he said next «… was this… a way for you to get better intel around me and make me a further fool than I already am?».

You startled at his booming tone and especially accusation although you were quick to shoot back.

«Do you think I had a choice in it?» you counterattacked, as your fists came to your side while Gojo still stayed behind the desk, a physical and emotional barrier «… I… I… I was forced into this, as much as you!».

«And you thought to make a horrible situation into a better one, didn’t you».

You couldn’t… truly blame Gojo for his mistrust, especially after the talk with Geto and the knowledge that Satorou wasn’t as… awful as you had pictured him.

He had started to open up with you about himself and you had thought that love might blossom. Instead, here you were screaming at each other because of the lies you held.

«… and about the children, I… that’s why I didn’t want to marry you! I swore on my father’s deathbed that his wretched legacy of lies, loveless relationships and abuse would end with me. I’d never take a wife nor bear a child and I intend to do so, because as I have noticed such things only bring an unhappy life».

Although you had no right to feel hurt at Satorou’s words, you still felt it.

You had lied to him and at least withheld the truth and he had done so as well, although his own crime came with the heavy weight of a loveless family and hadn’t you been feeling so angry, hurt and sad, you’d have happily clutched into your arms, comforting him for the child he could have never been.

«Yet, I can’t go back on my vow, at least to you. So, I shall not share your bed from now on».

You were startled at Satorou’s decision that nothing could ever change. 

No chance of resolving this among you anymore.

«No…» you were simply able to whine as you tried to get past the desk to throw your arms at him and plead «… Satorou, I… I am sorry for not having told you…».

«Are you sorry for your words, though?».

You were fixed with a gaze of ice promptly and it had you shivering out of the coldness of it.

You worried that it might freeze you on the spot.

«… because I don’t think that I… I don’t think that I can ever see you as more than her. You.. you might be my wife in name but you… we are nothing to each other».

And you were too struck to speak again as you slightly crouched down while Satorou passed by you as if he hadn’t noticed your obvious distress. 

As if he couldn’t care less, which you thought must be the truth.

You had lost your husband, in the span of a few moments and although you hadn’t wanted him in the first place, you wept as if you had lost everything.

credits for dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[atticrissfinch]

I really hope this doesn’t come across as rude or like criticism but I don’t understand noncon. I love ur writing and I read ur “all you wanna do” series and I was hoping u could explain the appeal to noncon to me. Am I supposed to feel disgust or pleasure when reading it?

Ahhh, the age old question. My simple answer to that, if you’re meant to feel disgust or pleasure, is ultimately: yes :)

Noncon is a very nuanced topic and I cannot possibly explain why it appeals to everyone, because everyone is different. But one of the most prominent purposes of writing or consuming noncon is trauma processing. It’s a way to take experiences that were negative, and turn them into something healing. Something you can control. Something that allows you to take back that power in a safe and ethical way.

That being said, you do not have to have experienced trauma to be aroused by noncon. Noncon in fic, and CNC (consensual non-consent) in real life, is a KINK. It is often an incredibly powerful manifestation of dominant or submissive tendencies. Some people want to be dominated so intensely that they have the illusion of having no choice at all, while still ultimately retaining full control. People often get off on their own disgust, or the perceived disgust of others, when participating in taboo kink. That’s commonly part of it. This kind of extreme kink is not appealing to everyone. But it is insanely appealing to others. Some people are aroused by the taboo nature. Some people are processing trauma. And there are a plethora of other reasons that it is appealing to people.

If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. Don’t force it, and most importantly, do not shame anyone else for their enjoyment of a kink that is not for you. If you’re not sure if it’s for you but you’re intrigued, noncon fiction is a great way to dip your toes into the concept, where you can stop reading at any time and have no consequences or judgment. And if you find it’s something you have an IRL interest in, it’s easier to feel less anxious or ashamed about actually researching CNC as a kink when you know that other people also find it arousing. Noncon fic is very validating. I just obviously advise that you are very careful about taking this on IRL. It is not a silly little thing to play around with. It’s very emotionally intense, there are inherently blurred consent lines and stark power dynamics. Be aware of all risks before engaging and always always ALWAYS have a non-negotiable safeword. 💕

[amoremainslayer]

HELLO MI AMORE💖💖 I'M SO GLAD UR BACK, MY FAVORITE WRITER🔥 thank god I was also busy with studies and finals so it really didn't feel that long since I last read your works, but when I did feel like reading in my free time I'd always go back to your works and re-read them. I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL WITH WHATEVER IT IS THAT GOT YOU HUNG UP. Today is the second last day before weekends and then finals but I decided to give myself a break and read your works, THEN I SAW YOU TALKING ABOUT SWITCH LEANING DOM RICKY?!!?!? idk how I never noticed it but I agree. LIKE IMAGINE RICKY GROANING ONE SECOND IN YOUR EAR WHILE JUST RAILING YOU AND THEN THE NEXT SECOND HE'S BEGGING YOU TO GIVE HIM A BREAK ALL TIED UP PRETTY JDHEKWJWKWKWKJEOWBSKW . once again please take care of urself and take breaks regardless of what it is , be it work or writing. Make sure to do things because it makes you happy, not because of others.

~💖

AWWW ANON I LITERALLY LOVE YOU😓🫶🫶

No but ricky is so diverse? Like it really depends on his mood, which changes quite fast whenever he's with you. Some days when work has been a little more extreme than usual he likes to be taken care of. Having you on his lap, your hips rolling in a slow but passionate rythm.

He'd be whining and groaning, begging you to make him feel good. Its really a rare sight, but both of you enjoy it alot. Especially if you tease him, he'd be all petty with tears in his eyes, begging you desperately.

But most of the times he's a dom, his focus on making you feel good. I have this big feeling that he wouldn't even prefer using his cock unless you beg him to. He'd enjoy using his fingers, mouth or a toy.

You're like his own personal movie. He loves bondage, tying you in pretty pink silk robes before teasing you with his fingers. The pretty noises you make just drive him insane.

He'd love using vibrators, teasing you through the night until you're crying beneath him, begging him to finall make you cum. He loooves foreplay, just the feeling of your body under his hands. He wants you to enjoy the experience, hes just such a giver.

That doesn't mean he doesnt like to pleasure himself tho. Especially when he's stressed or angry, he can do a whole 360 and be a completely different person.

His usual praised and kisse replaced by degrading and spanks. Pounding deeply into you while chocking you. He'd always add a round where he completely loves on you tho, making sure you'd feel loved no matter how much he cursed at you.

In general ricky is someone who really depends on his mood, so he'd probably need a spontantious partner (me).

[cordeliawhohung]

I read part seven of the pet!au and honestly your brain is just so wrinkly in the most affectionate way possible. Like I could focus either on the smut or the relationship dynamics between Bonnie, Soap and Simon, though I think you put the focus on the psychological aspects more. I love this tbh since I’m a sucker for angst.

My favourite parts are when Bonnie‘s disassociating with her surroundings and also when you wrote that she didn’t enjoy this at all. This is something I feel like usually falls short in writings with non-con.

I also love that Johnny is so trapped in his delusion that he thinks Bonnie‘s crying because she feels neglected. It’s a great contrast to Bonnie being absolutely afraid of Simon.

Again, you’re a wonderful writer and I wish I just had a crumb of your talents❤️

i'm about to YAP like crazy under the cut.

but UGH yes. all of this. i'm so happy someone caught on to this ))):

the smut was to really drive home the fact that Bonnie really is just a toy. in every sense. because like, sure, Johnny was using and abusing her before, but the specific part where Simon lovelessly and robotically fingers her just to make it easier for him to fuck Johnny? literally using her body for pleasure in a way that's not entirely interacting with her? that's such a pivotal point in the work. it seals the fact that this is literally all Simon ever thinks of her. That's all she ever is. how he keeps referring to her as a toy, "we're done playing, clean up your fucking toy" etc - she's less than a pet, than a dog, she's hardly even alive.

as for her not enjoying it - also yes!! i think it's a lot of fun to read/write non-con that borders more on cnc sorta stuff. like maybe despite everything it still feels good and the mc is able to orgasm or whatever, etc. and for some stories that works and it works well! but for this one? Bonnie does not want this at all. and since this is more of a horror story vibe than anything else, she's not enjoying this. she doesn't want to think about it. she doesn't want to be here. this can make things extremely dark, but that's what things are like in situations like these, and i wanted to reflect that in her escapism and overall emotional distress during the whole ordeal.

and god, Johnny. that fucking idiot. one of my favorite things to write about in the series is just how different johnny and simon are in regards to bonnie. how johnny loves her (in his own way) and even cares for her in some twisted way. it really makes it so that bonnie can't really catch a break because she's dealing with two different extremes all the damn time. around simon, she's walking on eggshells, fearing for her life; she's nothing to him, if not hated. but then with johnny he'd worship the ground she walks on, calling her angel; he's the only one to apologize, usually for being selfish, and promising her that he'll make her feel good too. she's either being hung to dry or being smothered, and there's no in between for her. like she def fears them both in some sort of way, but one fear is easier to swallow than the other.

but eek thanks for your comments and for letting me yap about this story i have so many thoughts i think i'll actually explode (:

[davi-doo]

I keep procrastinate sleeping at night for how little time I have for myself during the day 🐁 life is so tiring these days that I can't even write out of pure self-indulgement

[littlemousejelly]

let me love you down (let my love run wild)

relationship: Kara Zor-El/Lena Luthor

rating: E

word count: 4.6k

Summary:

Lena shivers when Kara slips her hands under her shirt to stroke up her sides.

Kara stiffens, then relaxes again.

"Fuck," she says softly on an exhale. "One."

 OR

the non-comprehensive guide to service topping fic

(read on ao3)

[coffincoitus]

fanfic can be so frustrating bc everyone treats it like it's a comfort/self indulgence thing but it's so rare that ppl write what I want to read. and yes I get that fanfic is literally fanmade and in that case I could just write some myself but the thing is I've done that for a bit and I was bad at it

[princeofhags]

i just finished reading about iraestra so wand of twilight for her as well!

Wand of Twilight. Iraestra conjures a spirit from the land of the dead to speak to them.

FANTASY PROMPTS | @foxboyclit

Smoke floods the altar in fragrant plumes, the familiar taste of myrrh coating the back of Iraestra's throat uncomfortably. Her steps, purposefully measured and slow, sound monstrous in the cavernous wings of the ceremonial chamber. The peace is further broken by the occasional murmur of an invocation or rustling cloth. There has been no order given for silence, but the trepidation hanging heavy in the air as the incense enforces the command. They all wait in the lurch of a breathless hush, an animal instinct to a known threat. Still, so that the hunter is not enthralled by your fleeing. Anticipation before the blow.

Does their visitor scent the fear he instills in the air, like a hound? Does the chorus of thrumming hearts beckon to him like the call of war drums? Bodies, so many bodies for him to open and bleed.

Itaestra does not doubt that he often relishes it. Bhaalspawn are such curious, depraved half-beasts.

Prince of the Blood. A self-given title, perhaps, but she has heard the reverence Bhaal's faithful pour at his feet like wine libations. Their honored guest is heir to a butcher's legacy. She thinks him little more than a glorified killer draped in the dressings of grandeur.

Iraestra does not cower or draw back from him, but there is still an instinctual unease at the thought of a Bhaalspawn being familiar with her. The Dread Lord’s wicked heirs do not know friends, only warm bodies to bite with steel. The world to them is already dead, merely waiting to be torn asunder to show its truest color: the crimson of fresh spilt blood.

A hedonistic dogma. She holds her tongue due to the respect granted to Bhaal by her own unholy master.

She observes the preparations for the ritual with only half an eye, attention commanded by the ophidian silhouette haunting the edge of the room. What a disquieting picture he paints. His height causes him to loom terribly, heads and shoulders above the flock of mortal meat. He need not even draw his weapon to kill half the room should he wish it. Each finger is tipped with a talon that catches the candlelight with each of his clenching hand. When he had spoken, his teeth had stood out vividly against the stone-black gleam of his scales. The dried gore on his scales embrace him as intimately as any lover.

The wicked length of a barbed tail flickers in what may be a sign of agitation in his people, or merely a quirk of the extra limb. His attention is riveted on the altar. She half expects it to catch aflame.

She attempts not to concern herself with his growing impatience. Any fool can cast a spell to converse with the departed; a Myrkulite only does so at the behest of another and the blessings of the Bone Lord. She will not disregard the tenants of her faith even for this Prince.

"You're eager," she observes. The dragonborn has not left the corpse's side since it was brought to her. Curious. He must be thoroughly invested in the secrets it would spill. "It was good that you preserved the jaw. A wasted trip had you not," she stops by the head, only the breadth of a few steps between her and the Prince.

At that, he finally regards her. Even in his initial instructions he had been short with her. "What of a tongue?

"Is this a theoretical or practical query?" Short of the patience to wait for an answer, Iraestra snaps at one of the attendants. "Bone Talker, check the mouth."

Questing fingers find only half of the appendage still intact. If removed before death, exsanguination is as likely a cause as any.

"It will do," she decides. "I am ready to begin." Her attendants step back as one.

The body has been prepared as best they can given its mangled state. This man, who can be no older than twenty, bares the marks of a slow death. The skull, partially caved, rests unevenly on the cloth. He does not even look peaceful now, as the victims of violence rarely do.

She steps forward, hands rising from her sides. Iraestra readies herself to speak the ancient words.

"Alone," the Prince's clipped voice rings out clearly. Not a request. Demand.

Iraestra hisses her frustration. Better vexation, than dread. She knows the vestments of anger well, slips into them like a second skin. Her mouth twists, her shoulders draw tight. Her hands are half-formed claws in the air. She hears the pound of her own heart in her ears.

What is so important that it cannot be witnessed by the others? What is to be done with her, who will attend to the questioning herself?

"Mistress?" Every cowled head in the room turns to look at her. They hear the call for her death as vividly as she. One of the fools is brave enough to step towards her, as if they could truly do anything to intervene. She admires them for their stupidity.

The Prince watches her, well aware of what he asks for. Trust or faith or maybe both. Clearly, he is looking for a reaction. Will she falter, will she balk? Could he make a bouquet of the stench of her unease? He regards her with a snake's stare, eyes cold licks of fire. He does not blink.

If he thinks he can subdue her so easily, then he is sorely mistaken. She is drow. She is Oblodra. Her own mother's hands were the first to ever try to take her life. He will find no easy marks here today. Let him slake his thirsts elsewhere. There are other, weaker creatures for him to gorge himself on.

"Leave us," Iraestra does not take her eyes from the Prince. She does not speak or move again until the door clicks shut behind the last attendant. How awfully similar it sounds to the closing stone of a tomb.

She rounds on him, irritation clear. "Why did you ask for me?"

The Prince is the first to look away, back to her hands and then the body. Iraestra does not feel like she has won anything of merit. It is impossible to tell if he is pleased. "The Banite confides in you. I thought to do the same."

He does not give a name, nor does she ask for it. She wonders at what the Prince knows of her talks with the other Chosen.

"And what if his confidence is misplaced?" A theoretical. Her loyalty is not often brought into question. It is rare that she pledges it at all.

"Then I will kill you," the Prince simply states.

She laughs. That intention is only the natural conclusion of the dance. There is no greater aim for those of his depraved bent. "So you say. Did you not plan to do so already?"

His head tilts in a particularly reptilian gesture. His glittering eyes have found the pulse in her throat, her bare wrists. She cares not for his study. It feels too much like a physical caress, high beneath dress and robe. One hunger is not too different from another, and she supposes they may be frighteningly the same for him. Both indulgences of the flesh, in the end. "Do not tempt me. Your blood would spill sweetly on this floor."

Iraestra sneers. "Cast your fetid gaze elsewhere, brute. You will not find easy prey in me."

He chuckles darkly. "Of that I am sure. I would savor the challenge as much as anything else."

"I was under the impression that there were more pressing matters at hand, given your early insistence on haste."

"Time can always be afforded for pleasure, sorceress. Consider the feel of silk on the skin. The burst of fruit between teeth and the rush of the juice down your chin, the clench of a lover tight around you as they sob your name. That final, shuddering breath that flutters out of the throat at death. Do you not feel the drum of the heart in your own chest? Do you not wish to dance to it? If you are so indifferent to it, I could show you how to listen to it once more. To feel it." How reverently he speaks, as if he is at the shrine of his own father-god. His lids have nearly closed in rapture.

There's smoke in the dragonborn's mouth and anticipation in his words, thick enough to choke on. He whispers with the tongue of a snake, words dripping from the depravities he utters.

As mad as his sister, the shape-changer, Iraestra decides with disdain. The seed of Bhaal is truly cursed with madness, complete and true. It was preferable when he was barely acknowledging her presence despite demanding it in the first place.

"You have nothing that I desire." Were she younger, still a fool turned by a pretty face, she may have once allowed herself to be seduced by the offer. She ignores the answering hook of arousal low in her gut, focusing once more on the misshapen head on the pillow. Reminds herself of whose hands exactly have crushed it. There is much to do before she is ready for the grave. "Now, if you will allow me to get on with this, we may be each rid of the other before long."

“A pity that you deny yourself,” but he nods. “Perform your rites. Regretfully, I cannot linger for long.” 

Iraestra does not regret that. She is exhausted and enthralled by him in equal measure. Let this be the first and last time she suffers his company. 

She begins her prayer to the dead. 

[whysamwhy123]

HALLEJUAH!! I REMEMBERED HOW TO ACTUALLY FINISH WRITING SOMETHING FOR A CHANGE!!

Of course, it's not any of the fics I wanted to finish. I went back to what is essentially my bread-and-butter now and wrote a short-ish, random OrangeHook fluff. But considering how much writing's been a struggle as of late, I'm just glad that I successfully finished something. I was back in one of those stretches where I couldn't seem to write much of anything. And this fic isn't about their age difference or Hook being a cuddlebug, so...progress?

Unless I decide I completely hate it (which is always a possibility) expect something to drop on Valentine's Day, tis the season, after all.

[hanzajesthanza]

[themoonobserved]

I found my fanmix and fanfiction livejournals from like...2008 on and I am having so many emotions right now.