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sukirichi · 3 months

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WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER

You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.

cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.

notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol

wc. 7k

You met him on the first night of winter.

Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.

Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.

Well, most of them anyway.

Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’

You’d really rather not ask what it was.

Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.

Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you.

When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.

Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.

You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.

Until now.

Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him.

His head snaps in your direction.

He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.

He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter.

You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.

His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”

“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”

As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”

Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”

You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering.

“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem.

“Well, goodnight.”

You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.

“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”

Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”

“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”

“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”

“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs.

Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state.

As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child.

“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”

There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”

You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”

“What is it?”

He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.

Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.

“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”

Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”

You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.

“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”

When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.

“I will.”

Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut.

“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”

He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.

“What do you want this time?”

“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”

On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.

Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.

You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”

Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”

Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”

You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”

“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”

“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”

“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.

“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep.

You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?

For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.

He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.

But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city.

It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.

You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.

However, it is hard for you to let him go.

No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.

Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.

He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.

“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”

Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”

“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”

“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder.

You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.

A tear falls down your face. You could feel him.

Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.

His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t.

“Why are you crying?”

Because I don’t want you to go.

“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”

He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs.

A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath.

“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”

“What?”

“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”

You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.

“There had to be evidence left.”

Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”

A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...

“You can ask me to stay.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.

He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.

You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.

Tomorrow, you would set things straight.

Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life.

But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.

Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?

But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.

She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.

Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.

Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”

Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”

“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”

His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”

Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”

You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer. You need to re-open this case.”

He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”

“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”

“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”

Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.

“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”

You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”

Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.

One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.

That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.

The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”

“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”

Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”

“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”

A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”

You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”

He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”

He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”

Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”

Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you.

It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.

After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”

A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.

That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind.

Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye.

Tears clouded your vision.

The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.

The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV.

But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.

To you, he was still alive in your heart.

“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”

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whitexwolfxx310 · 4 months

Text

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

��Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

1K notes · View notes

just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 months

Text

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🧠🪱

Happy hump day, let's unleash those brainworms!

Recent high school graduate Steve, freshly disowned, moving into his first very own apartment. The place is dark and smells funny, the wallpaper is peeling off in places, and the property management firm has a shitty reputation, but beggars can’t be choosers. Anything’s preferable to sticking his feet under his dad’s stupid mahogany table and listening to his bigoted bullshit for another day, right?

After a long and tiresome moving day involving a broken elevator and lugging all of his boxes up three flights of stairs, Steve has just hit the shower to wash off the sweat when a pipe bursts, cutting off his hot water supply and flooding his ugly, puke-colored floor tiles. Cursing, naked and soapy-haired, Steve slips his way over to the telephone to call the landlord's office. A bored-sounding lady tells him that they’ll send someone over, then hangs up without waiting for a reply.

Steve has barely even slipped a pair of boxers over his wet ass when the doorbell rings. He opens, only find himself face to face with a long-haired, tattooed guy about his own age. He's clad in a tank top and overalls, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding a burning cigarette in the other.

“Hi,” says the guy, dark eyes raking up and down Steve's bare chest. ‘I'm here about the leaky pipe?”

“Oh,” Steve says, surprised, because damn, that's a swift response time. “Sure, come on in.”

The guy does, shuffling into the apartment and on to the bathroom without waiting for directions. Steve is left loitering uncertainly in his own hallway. He doesn't need to loiter long, fortunately, because not five minutes later, the guy shuffles back out, drying his hands on one of Steve’s towels, cigarette now dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“There you go,” he grins, tossing the towel at Steve. “Enjoy your shower.”

“Thanks,” says Steve, patting his back pocket for his wallet until he remembers that, one, he's not wearing pants, and two, he spent the last of his cash on a vending machine drink earlier because he was fucking parched from carrying all those boxes. “Erm, I'd tip you, but-”

“Nah, leave it,” says the guy, and wiggles his eyebrows. “The view is more than enough for compensation.”

Several hours later, Steve is just on his way to bed, the door rings again. It's a grumpy older dude who says he's come to fix the shower.

“No, it's okay,” Steve says. “Your colleague was here earlier and took care of it.”

The man laughs. “Colleague? Ha, I wish. There's just me, why d’you think it took me so long?”

He trudges off, grumbling something under his breath about wasted time, leaving behind a dumbstruck Steve.

If that was the repair guy … who fixed his shower?

(His name is Eddie. He's a mechanic and lives in the apartment under Steve’s. He's well familiar with the leaky pipes, and when he saw the water running down from his own bathroom ceiling, he immediately knew what the problem was. He also now knows what Steve looks like half naked. They're off to a great start.)

Tagging some friends to share their own:

@postmodernau @steddie-island @sparkle-fiend @sidekick-hero @slippy-slip

@xgumiho @stevesbipanic @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @pearynice @thefreakandthehair

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #hype's brainworms #wiggly Wednesday

425 notes · View notes

rxzennia · 5 months

Text

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space?

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.”

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again.

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real)

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine”

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?”

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

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hippopotamusdreamer · 3 months

Text

Office Fuss

genre. small hint of [A] ?, [M] SMUT, [F] at the end, [AU]

warnings. established relationship, swearing, SMUUUUUTT, 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (p in v), semi-public sex (?), slight breath play, marking, groping, fingering (f rec), biting, spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, edging, thigh riding, brief nipple play, begging, hair pulling, Pet names (in no particular order): babe, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, needy girl, good girl, pretty, sweet girl

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, a few other idols make a brief appearance, I.N as Jeongin and Lee Know as Minho in one part, use of Christopher, this was proof read once so good luck LOL MDNI warning a couple times cause you cant be too safe ya know

pairing. CEO!Bang Chan X reader

w.c. 5.7K

synopsis. You're working, so what does your boyfriend want???

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

You were roused from your sleep by a familiar feeling. Plush lips pressed against your face repeatedly. The familiar heehee of your boyfriend when he caught you trying to hide your smile from him like music to your ears.

“Channie,” you breathed in as you stretched in bed.

“Good morning,” he said into the crook of your neck, leaving a final kiss there.

He pulled back a bit to look at you, the both of you lying in serene silence. You brought your hand up to tangle in the mess of his curls, still a mess from last night’s escapades. Reaching for your hand, he brought it down and placed a tender kiss to your palm.

“Do we really have to go in to work today?” you whined.

He grinned brightly at your reluctance.

“As much as I want you all to myself, we have to. I have a couple meetings scheduled and then I have to draw up an expense report for last week’s business trip.”

“Oh, poor you~,” you teased him.

You yelped out in surprise when his arms suddenly wrapped around you, bringing you closer only to laugh out loud as he began to blow raspberries into your skin.

“Quit! Chan, you’re getting your slobber all over me!” you wriggled about, trying to get out of his hold but it was no use. His steel grip on you did not loosen.

Both of your alarms chose then to go off, the two of you groaning at the electrical intrusion. Pulling apart, you sat up in bed as Chan went to turn off the offending noise. You watch him silently as he maneuvers around your apartment as if he lived there. He stayed over so many times though, he might as well have. And vice versa with you staying at his apartment, even his doorman no longer had to call him up to make sure you were allowed in.

It had a been a reoccurring conversation between the both of you, moving in together. It was a big step in your relationship. You were hesitant but not because of how Chan was. Lord knows he was one of the better relationships you’ve ever had. No, the issue was your landlord having a problem with you leaving your contract early, but you finally managed to come to an agreement this past week.

All that was left was to tell Chan the good news.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Chan released the breath he was holding while stretching.

“There’s also going to be “surprise” inspection in your department after lunch today,” he said, using quotation marks with one hand while pulling up his jeans over his toned legs with the other. It made you snort until his words sank in causing your brows to furrow.

“Inspection? In the graphic design team? Why?”

“I don’t know, I think the CEO just wants to check that his workers are being productive down there.” He said with a smirk.

Matching his smirk with a sarcastic one, you met him as he bent down with a giggle to give you a kiss. Before either of you could get into it any further, his watch beeped on your dresser.

“Ok, I really have to go now if I wanna shower at home.” He said with a hint of sadness that you hadn’t picked up on. “I’ll see you at the office babe, I love you.”

Pulling away, Chan slipped on his shirt from last night but not until after giving you three more kisses goodbye.

“Bye, love you!” You called after him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Hey Y/N, how was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?” your desk mate, Jeon Jungkook, asked as he sat down next to you.

“Nope, nothing exciting. Binge watched yet another murder documentary,” you replied while not looking away from your screen. Though you could already tell he had a disgusted look on his face.

“I don’t understand how you can watch those back to back,” he said wrinkling his nose, all you could do was laugh at his reaction.

It was a secret, your relationship with a certain Bang Chan, current CEO of SKZ Enterprises. If word got around that he was seeing an employee who knows what that would do to your position at the company and they dynamic with everyone you worked with.

The two of you had met during a wild outing one random Saturday night a couple years ago. He was actually doing a body shot off of your friend when your eyes met. And he did not take his off you for the rest of the night. You thought he was the hottest guy in that club at that moment. Had you eye fucking the shit out of him on that bar top as you tried to control yourself.

You blamed your period tracker for saying your ovulation was at its peak that night.

Next thing you knew, you were practically devouring each other in the bathroom stall. Which led to you taking him home and him taking you out for breakfast the morning after. It wasn’t until a building wide assembly where Chan had to give a speech roughly four months into your situationship that either of you found out about the other’s career. Before that you’d only given each other a vague idea of what you each did for a living, so it was pretty surprising for both parties.

You then had a mildly awkward sit down with after that and had a heart to heart. You two tried to break it off leading to roughly a month apart. Emphasis on rough. It was ultimately for nothing since it all came crashing down when Chan showed up to your apartment soaking wet from the pouring rain and another heated night was spent together. From there you both confessed your actual feelings for each other and then promised to keep it hush hush while in the office.

“Y/N-ah,” a voice called behind you, pulling you from your thoughts for the second time that day. Turning around in your chair, you saw your department head, Hwang Hyunjin waving you over.

Heading over to meet him, you could see the way his hands were fidgeting and how his teeth basically mutilated his bottom lip. Raising an eyebrow at his behavior you asked him, “What’s up boss?”

“How are you coming along with the AT.EEZ files?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m almost done. I just have to refine some of the lines and then add the watermark. But it should be good to go before lunch. Why? Everything ok, you don’t look good.”

“That’s great. Wait, I don’t? No, I’m fine. I’m ok. I just got an email from MY team lead…”

He trailed off but you had worked with him long enough to know that he just wanted you to ask about it. If he wasn’t a brilliant artist, you were sure he would have made it big in the world of drama.

“…And what was in the email?” You mustered faux concern, already having an idea on what it contained.

“I can’t tell you,” You waited a beat before he continued. “Ok but you can’t tell anyone yet. I just got word that the head of the company is going to come down here today.”

“Whaaaat,” you blinked more than usual, trying to appear shocked by the news. Bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, you tried your best to shield your smile as much as possible. “What time is he supposed to come down here?”

“After lunch. So are you absolutely positive that you can be done with the files by then? They’re one of our top clients, we can’t let the higher ups have any reason to be breathing down our necks about them.” The wrinkles he gave himself was enough for you to not tease him anymore.

“Yes, I’m sure. You can count on me Hyunjin,” you promised while giving him a little salute. You could see him visibly deflate in relief.

“Ok, ok good. We’ll present your stuff in the meeting room first then. Seulgi, JK, how are the RKIVE drafts?” he questioned, moving past you towards your other co-workers.

With a final nod to yourself, you made your way back to your seat and continued working.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You worked well until it was time for lunch yet just as you promised, you finished what you needed to. JK wanted to wait for you to go to lunch but you told him to go ahead knowing full well that Jeongin from Accounting would come and find you to go down together.

And just like clockwork, “ Hey Ugly, let’s go.”

“I’m coming Stupid,” was your automatic response.

Your relationship with Yang Jeongin was what people would consider siblings. But if they were the type of siblings that were born too close together and would constantly get on each other’s nerves. Even though you were older than him by a few years, he was able to bring out that twin energy out of you.

The two of you made it downstairs meeting your co-workers Soobin and Beomgyu along the way. Both happy to see you. With them working on the other side of the building, it was nice when you could meet up with them like this.

You thought you had caught a brief glance of your boyfriend but before you could double check, Beomgyu grabbed onto your arm telling you to hurry up, pulling you along with him.

Now, you were sat in the communal cafeteria. In the process of fighting off Jeongin’s chopsticks, which were trying to steal the last piece of meat off your tray, when Soobin distracted you.

“Did you hear that the CEO is going around some of the departments today?”

You looked at Soobin and subsequently lost your last bit of food. Frowning at the brunette, he just continued to chew with a smile much to your dismay. Beomgyu only laughed hysterically, clapping in delight at the scene before him.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Hyunjin was super worried.”

“Heard he’s looking for people to fire,” Jeongin inputted after swallowing your stolen treat.

“He is not,” you said incredulously.

“It could be true! I work in Accounting.”

The three of you just silently stared at him before you reached up to flick him on the forehead. He cried out in pain as he reached for the spot you hit.

“Aht!”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything Stupid?”

“It means,” he quickly got up from his seat startling everyone at the small table. “Shut up, that’s what.” He ended up flicking your forehead back before taking off to the trash cans near the entrance.

“Hey!” you cried after him.

“Mr. Yang, how many times do I have to tell you, no running!” Minho, the Director of Accounting, yelled after his subordinate.

The lunch shenanigans died down quickly with Jeongin’s departure. You, Soobin and Beomgyu conspiring as to the real reason why the head of the company would be checking around the departments. With neither of you coming up with any viable ideas, you had parted at the elevators to return to your respected floors.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You were currently sat in Conference Room #3 waiting to get the presentation over with. The rest of your small department slowly trickling in. You were next to JK, him raving about what the meeting could be about.

“I’m just saying he could have given us a warning!” His head plastered to the table in front of him. Hands making a mess of his already shaggy hair.

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise visit now would it,” you replied immediately to his behavior.

“I’m just saying!” He swiftly lifted his head, you leaning back in your seat to not get hit with the larger man’s limbs.

“Sorry noona,” he said while patting your head.

You waved him off, already used to his antics. Crossing your arms and closing your eyes, you leaned back in your chair, an afternoon nap sounded amazing right about now.

“Like who does he think he is! Making everyone freak out at the last minute, a good boss wouldn’t do that. Don’t you think so noona?” He went quiet, probably waiting for you to respond.

“Oh yeah, can’t stand working for that guy. Hate him sooo much,” you said halfheartedly.

You felt a presence loom over you. So when you didn’t hear a peep from the younger man, you cracked open one of your eyes and came face to face with your boyfriend. Shocked, you almost fell from your chair had Chan not immediately supported you in your seat.

“Cha-Chr-Mr.,” you stuttered.

He was close enough that you were able to see the tick in his jaw.

Oh he was pissed.

“Miss. Y/L/N, follow me,” he got out, voice hard yet face unreadable as he turned back to the door. He paid no mind to the other people in the room.

“But the presentation…,” you uttered weakly.

“Now,” he hadn’t waited for you as he left. Stumbling after him, you caught a glimpse of JK’s worried face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You followed Chan as he went to his designated elevator. Being the CEO of the company had its privileges after all. Various workers looking at you in concern as you trailed after the head of the company.

The entire ride up was silent, you weren’t sure if you were supposed say anything or not. And since he wasn’t saying anything, you just followed along. He continued to lead you down to his office once the two of your reached the top floor. His assistant barely casting a glance in either of your directions.

“Han, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the afternoon.”

Han didn’t say anything, just gave a grunt of acknowledgement as he typed away at the computer before him, doing as his boss asked.

As the door shut behind you tried to explain yourself, “Chan, I—”

You didn’t get much out before you were swiftly pinned against the door, Chan’s hand wrapping around your throat. His fingers dug into the soft flesh there, applying pressure as he squeezed, your heart skipping a beat at the very familiar action. Though his grip wasn’t tight enough to cut off your air supply, it was enough to get your insides going fuzzy. He trailed his nose along your chin and up to your ear as he nipped at the soft flesh. His other hand firmly attached to your hip, massaging circles with his thumb since your button-up shifted.

“You hate working for me, baby? Baby, baby, baby…,” his voice gravely and dangerous as he moved his leg in between yours.

“Chan, w-what are you doing, we’re at work,” your eyes fluttered as you tried to move away from his teeth but another squeeze against the sides of your throat stopped you. Instead a quiet sigh fell from your lips as you brought your own hands up to grab at his shirt. Whether to stop him or bring him in closer, you weren’t sure yet.

“I’m not a jealous man Y/N-ah, but twice today I saw other guys have their hands on you.”

“No, they didn’t—”

“You gonna try to lie to me baby?” He questioned with another slight squeeze. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of showing what he was really doing to you. Biting your lip to keep your cool, you took a deep breath.

Then he leant down and bit onto the space between your neck and shoulder gently but firmly, and you were a goner.

“Chan,” you whimpered out as you began to rock gently against his thigh. The hand that had been massaging your hip now guided you back and forth. Heat pooling in your core at the motion. Your mouth opening and closing, wanting a kiss from him. “What if Han hears us?”

“Don’t think you can keep quiet babygirl?” He asked while pulling back from you slightly.

You shook your head no, trying not to pant. “Want a kiss Chan, please?”

“What manners my needy girl has,” he said while giving you a quick peck. The grin on his face was evidence that he knew that wasn’t what you had in mind and he knew it. “Don’t worry, the room’s soundproof. You can be as loud as you want.”

In one motion he had you grinding in a particularly rough fashion and you could feel yourself coming closer to the edge. You could no longer hide your panting from the man.

“S’that feel good baby?” He questioned in your ear.

“Uh huh,” you managed to get out quietly, basically white knuckling his shirt in your fists to bring him closer. “So good baby.”

Then he pulled away and you were left dazed and crying out in confusion. Almost toppling over unsteadily by the door as he made his way to his desk. You shook your head to clear the haze of lust that had made its appearance.

“What the fuck, Chan?”

“Come here baby,” he said leisurely while patting his lap after sitting.

You focused on him as he sat back in his plush desk chair, spreading out and making the space his own. His suit jacket and tie had been discarded on the couch in the room. The sleeves of his white button down were now rolled up and the top couple buttons were now undone leaving his chest and collar bone exposed. His hair tousled from how many times he ran his hands through it the entire day.

On shaky legs, you made your way over.

Swallowing thickly, and with a now slightly clearer head, you understood what was about to go down. You just had to be sure, once more, if it was ok as you took the hand that reached out for you. “Are you sure we should be doing this here?”

He didn’t say anything as he guided you to straddle his lap. His eyes darkened as he looked up at you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We shouldn’t, but fuck if it isn’t tempting,” he gets out with a smirk.

Before you could protest further, he brought you down for a searing kiss. More teeth and tongue than anything. A degrading moan coming from who knows who.

“Wanna take your shirt off for me pretty?” He asked after breaking away.

Staring deep into his eyes, you trailed your hands over your body. Upward to the top button of your work blouse. As much as you tried to portray that you weren’t becoming a mess, the both of you could tell by the way your hands slightly shook. Fumbling with even the first button.

Chan, deciding to give you mercy, helped you with the first two instead. Eventually you did take over unbuttoning the rest as he sat up slightly in his seat. Trailing butterfly kisses along your collar bone, leaving a nibble here and there. A necklace of red marks appearing in his wake as he went.

Pulling the fabric off your shoulders, Chan slowly brought your shirt down to pool to the floor. Exposed chest on display, he reached behind you to unclasp your bra and tossed it to the side as well. With how cold it was in his office, your nipples immediately pebbled soon after being uncovered to the room. As much as you wanted to hide away from his hungry gaze, you knew he’d reprimand you in some way if you did.

“So fucking gorgeous, and for me only,” he said with a possessive growl.

With one hand supporting your lower back, he leant down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard, causing you to groan to the heavens. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak, occasionally pulling it slightly with his teeth. Chan was there for a bit, massaging away at the flesh with his mouth as his free hand latched onto the opposite breast. A wet pop was heard as he released the bud from his mouth and switched tactics with the other one. Giving it just as equal attention as you squirmed in place.

His arms held you close, keeping you flushed against him as he gave your nipple one last lick. Your own arms came up to wrap around him as well, one hand tangling in his hair as the other clutched at his shirt. The hand situated on your back moving down to cup your ass through your skirt, allowing you to finally move on his lap.

Like magnets, your lips connected together again.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he said through the bruising kiss.

You shivered under his touch and praise, letting yourself fall further into the sensations. His other hand reaching down to rake your skirt up to bunch at your waist. His fingers teased the edge of your underwear before finally slipping underneath. His thick digits sliding through your folds easily with how slick you already were.

“Fuck…you’re so fucking wet baby,” he groaned against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail hot open mouthed kisses down your neck. You heart was pounding in your chest as the blood rushed to your ears.

“Channie,” You mewled out.

“What do you want sweetheart? Huh, use your words.”

This feeling was sinful. Though Chan’s door automatically locked, just the idea that anyone with the code could walk in on the two of you was enough to make you dizzy. You practically felt his cock twitching underneath you, straining against the fabric of his slacks. The way his fingers only brushed against your clit, driving you insane.

“Fi…,” You couldn’t think clearly as he squeezed your ass periodically the way that he knew would torment you.

“Hmm? Don’t you want to be my good girl?”

You nodded at his words immediately.

“My good girl would know how to use her words,” he teased while giving your ass a slap causing you to push forward. His fingers slipping in slightly deeper than before.

“There! Need you there!”

He smiled brightly at your eager form. His dimples popping out more than usual.

“Here?” He teased as your hips ground against his palm, you just knew your juices covered his hand.

And then he drove two of his digits inside. Your mouth falling opened in a silent gasp of pleasure. His mouth mirroring yours as he watched you intently.

“You’re so warm, baby. Is this all for me?”

You nodded in response, too caught up in the moment to respond properly. Your eyes becoming hooded as he curled his fingers just right inside of you. Each upward motion sending jolts of electricity through your entire frame. You couldn’t have pulled him in closer even if you tried.

“Oh goood~,” you finally managed to get out in a desperate cry.

“That’s it sweetheart. You ride my fingers so well, only I know where to touch you, ain’t that right, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

With the two inside you, his thumb moved in a certain way for it to land on your clit making you moan immediately into his neck. Rubbing at the swollen bud, his fingers continued to pump in and out of you.

“God, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. You feel amazing every time. Wish I could stay in here forever baby. I can feel it, just how close you are sweetheart. You’re squeezing down on my fingers so hard.”

Your cries echoed around the room, signaling your growing orgasm. Chan’s smile grew wider, his fingers working relentlessly between your folds, teasing your clit, and probing deep into your aching pussy.

“You love this don’t you baby? Being filled up by my fingers, making a mess of me at work.” He asked mockingly, voice, low and menacing.. “It’s addicting isn’t it? Maybe we should do this all the time. Just have you come up here every day. Let me have my way with you and no one outside of this room would know.”

Your moans grew louder, borderline screaming. A part of you hoping that Chan hadn’t lied about the room being soundproof. After being edged earlier and the slew of filthy words that kept coming from his mouth, it was no wonder you were on the brink of coming undone so fast. It was as if he could read your mind by the way he started to slow his arm motions down.

“Noo, Channie…baby please,” you pleaded with him not to stop, collapsing fully into him. “Fuck…I’m so close babe.”

The feeling of his fingers suddenly coming out of you was just appalling. The empty sensation enough to make you desperate, you needed to be filled with him.

Now.

“Chan pleeeease…I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please…don’t do this.” You barely managed to cry out into his skin. He didn’t listen, only brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. You stared up at him, gaze still hooded, as he licked and sucked on his own digits. Your own tongue copying what his was doing to himself. The low groan he let out shooting straight to your frenzied core.

He smirked around his fingers as he tasted you on himself. With a final satisfied groan he licked them clean. Watched as you stared back at him, mouth parted. His eyes filled with lust that more than likely mirrored your own. You bit at your lip, body trembling with anticipation.

“I know you have been, my sweet girl. You ready for your reward?” He rubbed himself through his slacks, visible wet spots in the fabric created by both of your arousals. By now, his cock could have been compared to a steel rod with how hard he’d been this entire time.

“Mmhmm,” Mewling quietly, you nodded. With one hand he brought you in for a deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. The other began to undo his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. You moaned softly as he teased at your entrance, gliding between your folds before thrusting in without warning. The both of you groaning in ecstasy.

“Fuuuuuck…Christopher…,” his size was one you would never get used to no matter how many times you’ve fucked already

Chan reveled in the feeling that was just you.

It drove him insane just how much he wanted to be deeper inside of you with each thrust that he did. The way you bounced in his lap as he pounded into your tight pussy with a force that should have broken the chair immediately. Your tits bouncy in his face making him loose his mind even more.

“There’s my good girl,” he growled. “I’m gonna give you everything you need. No one else can fuck you this good, baby.”

“No one!” You echoed.

His hands, now holding you, tightened around your hips, holding you steady. The sound of your bodies colliding with each other echoing throughout the room too. His cock slid in and out of your folds with ease, coated in a slick layer of your combined juices.

Without warning, Chan brought his hand down across your ass, the sharp crack of flesh against flesh filling the air. Feeling the sting of his slap, you cried out, your body jolted forward from the impact. But instead of pulling away, you pushed against him, seeking more of that same sting.

“So good baby!” You cried breathlessly.

As he gave your ass another spank, you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your throat. Your backside began to turn pink under his hand.

Neither of you cared.

You could feel Chan’s cock throbbing inside of you. His hand left your ass to tangle inside your hair, tugging at it roughly. The movement caused you to gasp raggedly into the air.

“Gonna fill you up baby, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Make sure no one mistakes who you belong with. You hear me?”

“Yes, yes Christopher! Want you…fill me up…”

He grabbed onto you mid thrust to place you on top of his desk, not even breaking his rhythm. This new position allowed him to reach deeper, his cockhead practically kissing your cervix with every thrust inside.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh..” you gasped out, unable to contain your noises or desire.

“That’s right baby, you love to be filled with my cum don’t you?”

“Y-yeaaaah~”

Chan’s powerful thrusts continued to drive his cock inside your warm folds. You were in haze of bliss, surrendering to the feeling that was Chan.

“Fucking hell…,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. Each thrust brought the two of you closer and closer to the release you so needed. Already he could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for everything it was going to give.

“You ready baby?” He asked, the strain in his voice signaling that he was on the brink of losing it.

“Channie!” You choked out as you finally got to come underneath him. Your body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked your form. Legs locking around your boyfriend to keep him close to you.

“Fuck, I love you!” He yelled; his voice filled with pure ecstasy. His body tensed as his dick throbbed when he came, his cum hot as it painted your walls white. He groaned loudly as his vision went out briefly. He swore, if anyone had asked, he would have said he saw stars behind his eyelids.

He lay there, collapsed in your embrace. The both of you panting, breaths intermingling. He placed little kisses into your skin while you each calmed down from your highs. You trailed your fingers through his hair, feeling awash with serenity.

“I love you too by the way,” you said softly now that you weren’t being fucked out of your mind. You could just feel his smile as he tried to hide into your neck, much like he did earlier that morning.

“Oh no, don’t try to act all shy now!” You playfully chastised, pushing him away slightly to see his face better. “Not after what you literally just did to me.”

All he could do was laugh out loud, eyes disappearing behind his grin. His face becoming red in embarrassment under your hand.

A shuddered groan escaped the both of you as Chan finally pulled his softening dick out of you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After allowing yourselves a moment to clean up after the debauched act, you were sat in his desk chair, him in front of you. Your legs on his as he sat crossed legged on the mahogany item.

“Alright babe, spill. What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What’d’you mean? Nothing’s wrong,” he evaded, playing with your legs.

“You did not just pull me out of the department meeting over nothing,” you said with a skeptical look. He avoided your stare, choosing instead to trail invisible lines across your skin.

He’s pouting.

“Channie?” You encouraged.

“…” He did the thing that he typically did when he was thinking about what say. Mouth pursed to the side, eyes moving back and forth unfocused. So you waited until he was ready. “Do you not love me?”

“What!?” Floored is what you were. Especially since you literally just told him you loved him back. But there was a feeling in you that could tell that there was something more to this question. Something that had probably been eating at him if his slumped posture was anything to go by.

“Of course I love you Christopher,” The use of his English name was to solidify just how serious you were. “Why would you think otherwise?”

He tapped your leg as a nervous tick before speaking, “I just…why don’t you wanna move in together?”

Oh. That’s not what you thought he would say.

“This morning I just felt like that’s what it would feel like if we lived in the same place together. That I’d be able to wake up to you by my side, bed head and everything. And my heart just felt so full in that moment.

I understand that you want your independence. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you. But seeing how you are with your co-workers, I don’t know. I guess it scared me in that maybe the reason you don’t want to move in together is cause you’re not sure about us. Which is dumb I know!”

“Oh baby…”

“I know you love me. I know you do, it’s just an insecurity I have to work with,” he continued.

“That’s right, I do love you. So very much Chan. And, for the record, it’s not that I don’t want to move in together. It’s just a matter of affording to break my lease early,” With a smile, you held your hand up to stop him from interrupting you. “Before you start, Mr. Fancypants Rich McGee, no, I don’t want you paying for it. That’s not what our relationship was built on and we’re certainly not gonna start now. I wanted to tell you this this weekend when I go over to your place, but I guess now’s a good time as any, considering. I finally have the amount necessary.”

“Wait…,” the hopeful look in his eyes was so precious to you.

“I can start packing my stuff up to move in with you.”

“Baby!”

Chan quickly climbed down from his sat position, immediately scooping you into his arms. If that didn’t show he was excited, the multitude of kisses was sure another sign of how happy he was at the news. The both of you giggling like you didn’t just have a filthy fuck session in his office.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As you walked out of Chan’s office, after double and triple checking that you looked decent enough to go back to the meeting room, you realized something immediately. Han Jisung sat red in the face at his desk and was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at the two of you. Which could only mean one thing.

Bang Christopher Chan really did lie about his office being soundproof and his assistant just heard everything that went down.

FUCK!

a/n. This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

Taglist:

@elizalabs3

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svt-x · 8 months

Text

From Italy, with love x (Teaser)

pairing: Detective Mingyu x female reader

summary: Injured on the job and unable to work for 6 months, Mingyu embarks on a solo trip to Italy. He crosses paths with you once again, a familar face from his past he went on a few dates with. As it turns out, you’re also the owner of the dream holiday villa that he’s renting for the summer.

genre/warnings: second chances au (they’ve met briefly before), fluff, angst, smut

teaser warnings: shirtless mingyu wearing nothing but a towel lol, minor swearing

teaser wc: 467

a/n: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fic, I’ve been having Mingyu brainrot since forever & was inspired to write this after seeing him in that police outfit. A special thanks to @wintaerbaer for helping me with this and being so supportive and encouraging🤍

"AAAAAH! Why's it not working?"

He aggressively fiddles with the hot water valve of the shower in a futile attempt to rinse out the shampoo that continues to burn his eyes. When he realises that his efforts are ending in vain, Mingyu resorts to cold water, letting out a squeal as the icy droplets hit his chiseled body.

"Fuck, it's so cold."

With his eyes still tightly shut, he frantically runs his hands through his hair and over his body, trying to wash off the bubbles that remain. Soon after, he grabs the white towel he brought in with him and loosely wraps it around his hips. Walking out of the bathroom, he lets out a sigh as he enters the kitchen, opens the fridge, and chugs down the glass of fresh orange juice he left to chill earlier.

This is not how you expected to be spending your afternoon off—letting your tenant know that they will be without hot water for the rest of the day. Joshua is currently out of town, leaving you to deliver the message. You would have rang or texted, but your laptop, which holds the tenant’s details, has been sent for repair. This would usually mean you need to go into the office, but the villa is closer to your apartment, so instead, you take this as an opportunity to meet your new tenant for the summer.

The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle breeze, carrying hints of rosemary and lavender, envelops you as you walk up the pathway to the villa. The door is slightly ajar, and you bring up your fist to knock.

“Hello, is anyone in? It’s y/n, the landlord. Can I come in?”

When you don’t hear a response, you apprehensively walk in and head towards the kitchen, calling out once more.

“Hello?”

As you turn the corner, you’re met with the most perfectly-sculpted, muscular back you’ve ever seen. The man, still unaware of your presence, places a drink back in the fridge and closes the door.

You stutter when you finally speak up.

“O..oh sorry! I didn’t mean to just-”

Mingyu turns around to see the owner of the voice, you, visibly blushing as he notices your eyes scanning his physique. The towel does a poor job of covering the veins that snake across his lower body, and his deeply-tanned skin glistens, highlighting his huge muscles that are hard to miss.

You finally look up, and time seems to slow down for a moment as your eyes meet; small but memorable fragments of the brief time you spent together flash before your eyes, and you quite literally can’t believe Kim Mingyu is stood in front of you, naked with water dripping down his body.

“Mingyu?”

“Y/N?”

#mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt #seventeen imagines

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angelyuji · 28 days

Text

mr. pines

stanley pines x f!reader

reader needs a job really badly and stanford pines gives her a job... with a couple conditions.

tw // noncon, power imbalance, older man/younger woman, old man stan being gross, slight misogyny (mostly the pet names), also plss lmk if i missed anything

18+!!!!!!!! pls!!! pls!!! mind the tw and tags (also this is posted on my ao3 acc as well!)

you’ve been scrounging around for a job since you moved to gravity falls. finally, after a couple of months of begging around, the diner waitress, susan, had told you that the stan pines might be hiring at the mystery shack. you had promised the landlord that you’d give them the rent as soon as you find a job, but you can tell they were getting tired of letting you stay rent free.

you had walked to the mystery shack, only a 15-minute walk from the apartment. when you walk in, you’re hit with the smell of sandalwood and glue. you walk over to the red-headed teenager at the cashier stand.

“hey, uh- lazy susan said you guys were hiring?” she looks up from her phone to think for a second.

“oh really? um i guess you can check with stan. his office is right down the hall. he should be in there right now.” she points down the dark hallway to your right and goes right back to her phone. you thank her and she gives you a smile in response. goosebumps rise on your skin as you walk down the eerie, dark hallway. you were starting to second guess your choice of jobs, but you knock on the office door before you chicken out.

“come in.” a gruff voice calls from inside. you swallow and open the door.

“hi! i’m here to apply for a job at the mystery shack.” you smile and shut the door behind you. the only light in the room from the windows in the office. he hums and doesn’t say anything. he gestures to the chair next to him. you sit down and look around the messy office. a taxidermized animal head, a statue of an owl, a huge safe, all sorts of odd things litter the office.

“what are some of your qualifications?” he grunts out, surprising you. you list out your old jobs and hand over the resume that you brought. he gives it a once-over before tossing it into the trash can next to him.

“oh i needed that ba-” he holds a hand up and you shut your mouth. you don’t say anything as he leans back in his chair.

“you’ve got potential, (y/n).” he nods, “but… i don’t really want to pay anyone and it doesn’t seem like we really need the people all that much.” he shrugs.

you start to panic, reaching out and grabbing his hand, “please, mr. pines. i really need this job.” you beg and you watch him think for a couple minutes before smiling.

he clears his throat, “you know what, sweetheart? come back after the shack is closed, then we’ll talk about a job.” he stands up, your hands falling back to your sides, and you realize how much taller he was than you, how much more intimidating he was.

you pause to think, but realizing you have no other choice, “sure, i guess i’ll be back around 10 then.” he opens the door, but takes up most of the exit. you squeeze out from around him.

“i’ll see you then, sweetcheeks.” you feel eyes on your ass as you leave the shack. unfortunately, time goes by quickly and you’re back at the mystery shack. your stomach turns, warning you to make the right choice. you quietly go inside and notice that only the lights in stan’s office were on.

you fumble through the shop to the closed door. “hello?” you knock. mr. pines calls out for you to come in. you enter and you see him sitting on his desk, waiting for you. you clear your throat, “hi mr. pines.” he quirks an eyebrow at you and gets up. you force yourself to not back away as he comes closer to you. he walks past you and closes the door. you hear the quiet click of the lock and you feel chills go down your spine. alarms start going off in your head as he goes back and collapses into the chair. he leans back in his chair, groaning.

“so, you want a job here?” stan raises an eyebrow. you nod, “hmm… maybe i can help you, dollface.”

you let out a sigh in relief, “thank you so much, mr. pines. i’ll do anything, i really need this job.”

“anything, huh.” he nods with a smirk. you nod, eagerly.

“i’ll scrub walls, wash your car, or work from open to close! i will do literally anything!”

“you don’t have to do anything like that, sugarpie” you tilt your head, suddenly hearing the pet names. “you’ll just have to do a small little favor for me.” you don’t respond, hoping he’d explain. he gestures for you to come closer. you walk over to his desk and he turns the chair to face you. “kneel down for me.”

you awkwardly giggle, “what?” mr. pines looks at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“kneel down.” he stands up, you feel your heart drop. stan pines towers over you and grabs a fistful of your hair. he pushes you down and you yelp as your scalp stings. you try to crawl away, but he doesn’t let go of your hair. he uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and let his pants drop. his cock hangs, big and girthy. your eyes go wide.

“mr. pines. please, don’t. i don’t want to do this.” you beg, feeling the panic rise and tears start to well up in your eyes. he looks down at you with a smirk, but let’s go. you scramble up and back against the wall. he sits back down, nonchalantly.

“fine, you can leave, sweetheart.” he shrugs. you back away quickly, hoping to get out of the office as fast as possible. “but…” you pause as your hand touches the doorknob, “you need me, baby. suzie told me about you: new girl with no job, relentless landlord, and not a single friend in town.” he laughs, deep and unsettling.

“fuck. you. i’m going to the cops and i’ll tell them what you did.” you turn and glare, voice dripping in malice. you twist the doorknob, planning to get the hell out of the place.

he stares at you, a smirk resting on his face. you felt frozen in place. “and what then? the people of gravity falls know me, toots. they know of my… reputation. they’re gonna tell you that you should’ve known better. i mean,” he barks out a laugh, “you came to the mystery shack after hours to see me. you should’ve known.” your hand drops from the doorknob. you stare at your feet. “i could help you, (y/n). i’ll pay you good money as long as you meet my requests.” you look up, tears dripping down your face, and stan smiles. he gestures for you to come closer. you, reluctantly, come back to stand in front of him. you make sure to keep your eyes away from his undone pants.

“what-what do you want me to do?” you sniffle. with surprising gentleness, he grabs your hand and helps you to your knees. he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“all you have to do is do what i say. it’s a win-win situation, toots.” you start to feel yourself going numb. his hand leaves your face and he leans back. you inch closer, carefully placing your hands on his thighs. you move one hand up to gingerly wrap it around his cock. you hear him grunt at your touch and your vision starts to blur as your tears flow harder. you steady yourself on his thigh and stroke his dick.

stan groans, but you hear more irritation than arousal. “you don’t have to be so gentle, sweetheart. it won’t bite.” he growls. you swallow back the bile rising in your throat and tighten your grip a little more. with each stroke, stan’s grunts progressively louder. you watch as pre-cum leaks from his tip and feel his dick get harder with every stroke. but as you feel his thighs tense, stan grabs your hand.

“come closer.” he rasped. you inch closer, “i need you to open your mouth, sweetheart.” you hold back a gag and shake your head. stan grabs you by the chin and pulls you closer, you tighten your lips. stan chuckles before letting go of your chin to pinch your nose. your eyes widen, unable to think or breathe. you open your mouth to take a breath and stan lets go of your nose to shove two fingers into your mouth. you gag around his thick fingers, “you are just so beautiful, dollface, i can’t wait to use you every day.” he whispered and you feel a sudden wave of heat in your lower belly. he pulls his fingers out and you try to look away, but stan’s hand tangles itself in your hair. your eyes trail down from his face to his other hand, gripping his thick cock.

“wait-” you choke out, but stan pulls your head forward and plows himself into your mouth. he moves your head frantically, you choke and gargle as saliva and pre-cum drips down your throat and face. tears flow freely from your eyes as you were used as a worthless sex toy. you can feel yourself getting wetter and you feel disgusted.

“oh god, sugar, you feel so good. so. fucking. good.” he groans out, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. you could feel the tip of his dick almost going down your throat. you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you hit stan’s thighs, praying for a reprieve. you swallow around stan’s cock, trying to bring yourself back to consciousness, and stan moans. “oh, fuck,” stan’s hips stutter and he pushes your head down. your nose hits his springy, gray, pubic hair and you can feel his cock pulse as he cums down your throat. his hand loosens from your hair and you lurch backwards, gagging at the leftover taste of his bitter, salty, hot cum. you stumbled to the ground, leaning back against the wall, with your knees pressed to your chest.

“oh god, oh god.” you sob. stan gets up, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. he gets his wallet out and tosses forward a couple hundred-dollar bills. “consider this your signing bonus.” he pulls something out of his drawer and tosses a contract in front of you. “once you sign this, you’re a full-time mystery shack employee.” he walks to the door and opens it to leave, but looks back at you, “you’re a good lay, toots. i’ll see you tomorrow at 6. don’t be late.” he turns and walks out, leaving you shivering and humiliated.

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slowd1ving · 2 months

Text

TALES OF A DISGRUNTLED CORVID ⁺ 　 . MOZE

Quite frankly, you've been assigned an absolute loser (unaffectionate) to work with after your dramatic exit from the Intelligentsia Guild. Whoever said this guy was too silent was wrong, as he verily proves himself as the bane of your existence with his ceaseless yapping. art credits to @code_tesseract on x!! and tagging @ilovechuuy4 as requested :3 pairings: moze + male cryptologist reader (will be part of a series methinks) warnings: male reader, mentions of assassination? may be a touch ooc since this is pre-release writing unfortunately, lowkey crack fic, pre relationship, business partnership of hating each other wc: 1.9k

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s never a dull day when a certain Shadow Guard is your partner for an assignment. Truly, your life always sparkles brilliantly when the information pings on your Jade Abacus; without fail, everything gains just a bit more colour, a bit more vivaciousness. Pathetically fallacious, you might’ve described it as had you taken literature classes: mood hued with such dynamic chromaticity that you fear you might explode into little prismic rainbows. Always such a bundle of joy to be geminate with him.

“Must you be so… disorganised?”

Oh, who are you kidding.

It’s always a dull day when you’re paired with Moze.

“Get out.” A particularly rude gesture materialises in your open hand as you stare at the door he practically kicked down. Apartments in this particular sector of the Xianzhou Yaoqing do not come cheap, and you half-wonder whether he’d eke out coin to console your landlord. Then, with an especially sour, lemon-like expression, you realise he would fork out his own money just to make your life more difficult.

When you first got assigned work in the Yaoqing (read: kicked to the curb by the Intelligentsia Guild to gain real world experience), you really did expect your tenure to be plain office work. Letters, forms, public relations—these mundanities you anticipated. In fact, you would’ve relished such tedium; after decrypting endless scientific formulae and pondering your mysterious tomes, engaging in bureaucratic matters would be a piece of cake! A little treat for your weary eyes—if you closed them, you could still see faint imprints of equations in the theatre of your mind.

But what you hadn’t factored into your (ahem) calculations was just how sharp the Arbiter-General Feixiao was: just how passionate she was about pursuing Abominations and ruthlessly eliminating them, just how frank and swift the Madam General was. You also forgot that out of all the flagships, the Yaoqing were one of the most militarily driven. A blunder most fatal.

“Thy talents would be wasted in the mere administrative wing,” Feixiao gesticulated. “Come, child, put thy brain and brawn to use and track down these villainous curs most evil.”

“Goodness, Madam General!” you’d cried out pitifully. “My heart is thine for the keeping!”

Or something like that. Actually, it may have not all been like that.

After all, you were kicked out (temporarily! temporarily!) partly due to your penchant for delivering heart-rendering performances to your professors to avoid taking on their extra work. Such moving renditions, that they had to let you go lest you broke their bleeding hearts. Had you known you’d be working in the shady corners of intelligence and decryption, you would’ve kowtowed to the Guild for utmost forgiveness. Probably.

When your path first overlapped with the Shadow Guards’, you honestly couldn’t give two hoots about the rumours that followed silently behind their own noiseless steps. Your ears had perked somewhat at the gossip your colleagues threw back and forth—though, who could blame you. The job was no fun!

Weirdo with the crow feathers, they’d murmured. He’s so quiet. What a reticent chap.

Of course, you’d disagree, and perhaps tack on a loser to the descriptions of Moze. You’d disagree not with the ‘weirdo’, but rather with the quiet and reticent adjectives—partly because he really does need to shut up more.

And he needs to stick to his rumours more. If this loner’s made it a point to not work with people, then why oh why did the honourable Madam General decide your ancient science and study complemented his shady skillset? And why oh why does he never refuse her request? (You’ve conveniently forgotten how you always fold when it comes to her.) You’ve always worked alone too, for as long as you can remember; decoding the ancient equations in ruins and solving their gimmicky puzzles using your boundless wits is a job for one.

As it stands, the people he investigates, the work he takes care of, sometimes intrudes into the realm of questionable rituals and summonings the Abominations and their ilk oft partake in. Thus do you find your career verging into some gruesome form of forensics as you stare down what would commonly be considered a murder scene: sigils and ancient alchemical algebra staring right back at you. He deals with the human aspect of intelligence: the psychology, the crime, the covert espionage. You deal with the technical fallout: the analysis of antique sciences is your specialty, after all. This has culminated in a begrudging partnership where both parties wish nothing more than to leave it.

A business relationship, of sorts, founded on the mutual dislike (a weak description) of each other.

“No.” He doesn’t budge from where he leans against the doorframe, but he does have the decency to swing the door closed behind him. Yet, it’s not out of any respect for the hallowed sanctity of your abode, but more because he’s sooo Mysterious and Aloof that none of your neighbours are allowed to view his visage.

“You are—” a quick glance at your watch proves your point. For someone obsessed with keeping tidy, he sure does have messy time management. “—eighteen minutes too early.”

“And you still aren’t ready,” he counters, pointedly eyeing the loose shirt and comfortable cotton trousers slung over your hips. You yawn, tired already from his yapping. He’s been compared to a crow for as long as you’ve been here—and perhaps far longer—but to you he’s always been more like a little dog. Yap. Yap. Yap.

This is precisely why I don’t work with others, you can almost taste his words—his thoughts.

“You are currently the biggest hindrance to my getting ready,” you grimace. Casting a quick glance over his intricate garb, it’s no wonder he feels getting ready is such a lengthy endeavour: all straps and buckles and tough layers that makes him the walking fortress he is. “I’ll be on time.”

He doesn’t reply: laconic only when he acknowledges your point as unequivocally right, which is seldom.

“Are you going to keep staring?” you snap as you sling the worn shirt from your body. Beneath the soft clothes is muscle hard-won through your frequent collaborations with the Armed Archaeologists in the Guild: days filled with more sparring and their stupid callisthenics than actually finding ruins.

“Do you have to dress right here?” he counters, but it’s a futile argument—this apartment is barely big enough for you as it stands. Currently, he’s situated by the doorway, but you’re on the unseen boundaries of the living room and the tiny kitchen. Beyond is your bedroom and miniscule bathroom, of which neither have enough space to move comfortably to change. And you certainly aren’t going to sacrifice your comfort to appease his poor eyes; he’s seen worse for sure. Though, you doubt he’s ever seen a naked body that wasn’t in the context of assassination and the anatomy classes you know he’s meticulously attended for his shady work. Surreptitiously, you snicker at the thought: that there aren’t any lovers lined up for this weirdo.

You toss the garment onto your couch, precisely because you know he’s grinding teeth over it; and there’s that tell-tale click of molar against molar. You even whistle a bit as you untie the neat bow holding your trousers to your hips; the fabric pools on the floor, and you don’t make any move to pick it up.

There it is. His glower—red-hot and piercing through the flesh and sinew of your back—is heavy in this small space. What you don’t see, however, is how his eyes flicker briefly across your body, down the firm step of your legs as you step out of the trousers. Out of context, watching muscle ripple and twist as you strip forces crimson to seep into his face. This is an implication he’s absolutely disgusted with—with you.

“If you have any more input as to what I do in my home, you’re welcome to pay my rent first,” you finally deign to reply, rummaging in the dresser in your hallway—which he knows has never been neat with all the clothes spilling from the edges. His eye twitches.

“You’re an incorrigible man,” he retorts, carmine flush now from irritation rather than anything else. Irritation from the beginning, because it was never anything else.

“Wow,” you blink, weighing your options between shirt A and shirt B. The cherry-red with straps, or the Prussian blue with straps, you muse, holding the shirts against your beloved grey cargoes. “You sound exactly like my professor. Same adjective and everything.”

When it comes to shameless people, there comes the very real risk of insults being nullified by the insulted through them simply agreeing.

“No wonder the Guild kicked you out.” As you’re pulling the scarlet fabric over your head, you pause—it seems he’s finally hit a nerve. There’s a rare smile toying with his lips at the victory: one he doesn’t notice, but ghosts across his face nonetheless.

Now, there are many things you could reply to that with. Such as, did your parents give you a reason when they abandoned you? Nay, that is too low of a blow. No wonder you don’t have any friends. But he probably grapples with that bitter reality each morning, gnashing his teeth and beating his chest.

“Bold of you to speak of being unwanted,” you comment matter-of-factly. Both insults it is then, wrapped neatly into an ambiguous tale of these eight words. His smile fades.

With a slight gasp, you finally wrangle the tight material on—it’s armour, after all, a specific textile development by the Yaoqing for the protection of civilians and tourists alike, though you aren’t considered a tourist by your special work-abacus-plaque. It fits snugly against you: straps for knives sit tight against your forearms, while the harness that provides extra support for your torso rests neatly beneath your chest. The garb’s almost like a compression shirt from your home planet, except the Yaoqing has far more violent uses for it.

“Didn’t Guard Zhí reject you?” He bites out, and it takes a minute for you to realise he’s talking about Zhí Hua, the best friend you’d made on the flagship—and your Shadow Guard drinking buddy.

“Huh?” Dumbfoundedly, you pause in doing the buckles on your trousers, losing far more time than you’d bargained for. “A-hua is my friend.”

The diminutive doesn’t go unnoticed, which rankles him far more than falling prey to the rumour about you and his fellow Guard. No, both rankle him—likely because hearing about a workplace romance about you just disgusts him in general.

“Pfft,” you snort out, finally done with the laborious task of adjusting the materiel and various other gadgets attached to your body. “I have got to tell her about this. Who knew your ability to gather information would be stopped by a rumour?”

The tightness in his chest lessens somewhat.

“Besides, everyone already knows my heart belongs to the Madam General,” you sigh, clasping your hands to your chest in a dreamy gesture. It’s an ongoing joke: you professing your deep adoration of Feixiao after she gives you a pay raise for putting up with the so-called ‘reticent’ Moze. “Woah, what’s with the sour look?”

“Gross,” he mutters.

As you step near the doorway to grab your boots, you lean into his space mockingly: and he recoils back in even more revulsion.

“Of course, you wouldn’t know.” You pat his shoulder once, condescendingly, then promptly slip your heavy boots off the shelf. “Since there’s no one who loves you.”

And his glare as you shuffle your shoes on is poignant.

₊ ⋆ ☾

#res ･ﾟ writing #slowd1ving #x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #male reader #hsr moze #moze #honkai star rail moze #moze x reader #hsr moze x reader #this mannnnnnn #honkai sr #honkai posting

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hyewka · 1 year

Text

Because I’m currently pissed off ive decided to manifest it into positive energy 🙂!!! I present to you a scenario of very loud and annoying neighbour Yeonjun, like just criminally loud neighbour throughout every. single. night. Absolutely no rest ever since he moved in.

warnings: sub!yeonjun, grinding, slapping lol, dacryphilia, noona kink sorta

On good days, it’d be what you think is him producing music because at least your walls aren’t vibrating. Worst days? It would hands down be the ragers he throws practically every week as if he was still in college. Sex being a close second—to give credit, he has toned it down the past couple of weeks.

“We take your complaints very seriously, but please cut him some slack Miss. He’s still in college you know how…they get,” So…he is still in college. And to the newfound information, you guess he’s also under twenty three. It explains… a lot. “Between you and me, he’s practically scraping to get money for rent enough as it is.”

You hold back a scoff and instead try to be empathetic so you give your best attempt at a smile to the office worker. You could handle a few months of sleepless nights before he’s eventually evicted, can’t you?

So, just like that, you give up the weekly complaints you send to the landlord.

…Is what you chose to believe as you try your hardest to drown out the noise next door, pillow pressed against your ear with sheer strength before you finally give out, groaning with agony. If you can’t get anybody to listen to your complaints, then who will?

Communication.

Like a light bulb lit above your head you scramble out of your bed, not in the mood to change out of your nightgown, slipped on your slides, and you were now prepared to pay a visit to your more than lovely neighbour, Choi Yeonjun.

You knock a few times. No response.

Before you could get your tenth knock the door swings open to reveal the monster who has been tormenting you for the last few months. You hold up a polite smile, though your eyes unintentionally trail down to his exposed collarbones. A white tank top, a white tank top, a white— “Hey?”

Your eyes widen, getting flustered as you clear your throat, straightening your posture. “Um, so, hi! As you know I’m—"

“Y/N, neighbour 331.” Your brows raise impressed that he actually knew. “The one who’s been submitting complaints on me every Friday, right?”

Oh. He does not like you. Your smile falters for a second before you compose yourself and nod. “I just wanted to come to you instead of going to the landlord tomorrow morning, think it’s better if we communicate.”

He contemplates for a second before nodding, arms crossed lazily, eyes urging you to continue. “…I want to communicate that I am not very…appreciative of the noise every night. Well, I’m sure you already know—and I wish for you to turn it down a notch.”

Yeonjun gives you a tight smile, eyes turning into crescents, with his hand placed behind his door. “Sure.” —is all he says before the door’s slammed shut in your face.

Not taking into account the rudeness of what he just did, you think that was a success. So you take a second to commend yourself and pat yourself on the back, heading to your flat.

To your luck, he goes through with his word and actually keeps it down.

For one night.

You think maybe if you go knocking enough times, he'd follow through each time (which he does) and eventually learn to turn it down without you telling him to (which he doesn't).

You're faced with him again, patience holding by a thread, "Keep. It. Down." you grit out the moment his door opens, eyes with intention to kill.

"Damn. Okay. You can chill out."

And then again.

"Turn your TV down."

And...again.

"I would appreciate it if you turned it down a bit."

It was a daily thing to get up from the comfort of your bed and storm up to his door, your knuckles bruising from the abundance of times you banged on his door.

"At this point, might start thinking you're really into me." You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hung open not able to process the absolute audacity. You're even more pissed when he cheekily points out: "You're drooling."

You immediately shut your mouth before rolling your eyes to absolute oblivion. You hate his guts. Even more when you wipe at your mouth experimentally and do in fact find that he wasn't lying. "Just—just turn it down!"

You truly did not like him, nothing more nothing less. You couldn't even find him more than averagely attractive so there definitely weren't any underlying feelings. You just thought he was way too incredibly cocky for your taste, too unbothered of his surroundings; to you it looked like all that mattered to Yeonjun was himself. Which is a big turn off.

You were definitely all too aware of the numerous times his eyes would, with absolutely no shame, look you up and down, not caring to be discreet about checking you out. Each time you'd scoff, because god, does he remind you of all the reasons you hated college.

You didn't think he was at peak of childishness until the one time you saw Yeonjun arriving at his door as you struggled to key your door open with your sort-of-boyfriend slash co-worker Doyoung (which was another issue you had to deal with all around) beside you, waiting to finally finish off what you started back at his car.

"Hey, hey let me try." Doyoung offers and you let him, awkwardly making way for him to attempt to open your jammed door.

It wasn't hard to feel Yeonjun's quick glances over at you before he says nothing and disappears into the black hole that was his flat. When you came over to his door the next day, the daily reminder to keep it quiet, he does one of his cheesy fuck boy lines from a 2000s movie without fail. Except he doesn't end it there.

He asks you a question you would've snorted at if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't very humorous to have an annoying neighbor busying themselves with your personal life.

"Was that your boyfriend? Yesterday?" His very weird attempt at keeping his voice monotone and almost nonchalant has you puzzled...not in a good way.

You resort to not answering his question. You didn't have to. "From a scale of one to ten, how valuable is that information to you? It's supposed to be zero lovely neighbour."

"Well, you—you should keep it down next time," he starts, and you're confused. No way. "Couldn't sleep with all the bed creaking."

You could've even retort back and say something like 'oh, now you know how I feel', too embarrassed to say anything before just storming to your door. You did not like Choi Yeonjun.

At all.

All of that was before being stuck in an elevator with a more than a nervous wreck plus one.

"Can you calm down? They'll be here in like, less than a few minutes." You aren't too great at comforting, clearly, as he gets a lot more jittery. "Fuck! It's been five entire minutes!” —Not true. “What if—what if we just die in here, holy shit holy shit." Yeonjun was spiraling as he tries to pace in the confined space, eyes wide with panic, biting down on his bottom lip practically breaking down right in front of your eyes.

"Hey, hey look, just sit. On the floor. Calm down, and collect yourself."

To your surprise, he stops pacing, for a second looks at you before taking a breath and slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. You decide to also sit down, albeit, the awkward distance between the two of you making it less than comfortable. It feels like a few minutes before your ears pick up little sniffles.

Oh well, shit. He was crying. You attempt to not look at him, he was clearly more than vulnerable but your eyes can't help but slowly trail to your side. The confident, cocky neighbor you've had to deal with for the past five months was indeed crying.

Your perception of Yeonjun changes in an elevator that day, just a tiny bit. When he starts to apologize through his sobs, that had quickly picked up sound, you feel something. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just—fuck—"

"What happened?" You don't care, you think you don't, but you still end up asking. And listening.

"Don't judge." he says with that slight break of his voice and you nod.

Your eyes dart back and forth, hyper focused on every feature of his face as he turns to you, venting all of his worries to someone he most likely finds annoying the same way you find him—red runny nose, fox-like eyes already turning bloodshot, the way his perfectly trimmed brows furrow every few sentences like he was thinking over what he should reveal to a stranger that hates him, or his quivering bottom lip whenever he'd take a second to take a breath—your perception of him had definitely changed. Just a tiny bit.

You have no idea what possessed you to reach your thumb out for under his eyes—to wipe. Like you knew him at all. As if he wasn't the neighbor who had been the cause of all the sleepless nights you experienced. It was something about his pouty lips, pinkish tone from all the crying, making you behave so oddly. “Thanks…” Yeonjun’s strained whisper combined with his tears bordering his waterline had got you even more entranced and holy shit— you quickly retract your hand from his face, instead focusing on bright yellow light on your floor number.

“Mhm.” It was a panic hum, like any minute now you would do a very impulsive and frankly out of character thing.

But thankfully his paranoia was proven to not be true as just a few minutes go by before the elevator doors open to reveal someone from what you assume to be the rescue service.

When you get out, Yeonjun is rather quick to go to his flat, avoiding all small talk and shutting his door behind him almost as quick as he ran to it. And as for you, all night is spent sleepless once more. And the cause being once again, Yeonjun. Except it's not his music, his movies, or sex. He keeps oddly quiet that day. No, it's the short dream you have that scares you awake.

Yeonjun. Crying. And a sex dream. Oh you were fucked up.

Not only does that dream scare you wide awake for an entire night, it also scares you from ever approaching his door again. Or when you see him down at the laundry room, or at the elevator, or—

At your door?

When you open to the persistently annoying knock, you don't expect it to be your neighbor. In his signature frat look, a backward cap hanging on his head. "Hey—"

"What do you want?" You cut him off.

"Oh, well, straight to the point, um—Was here to tell you that I'll be throwing a party in just a few hours. So it'll get loud. And I won't be able to turn it down. Sorry."

"Okay." you simply say before adding, "Thanks for giving me a heads up I guess." You attempt to give a smile before shutting your door but Yeonjun stops you with the intervention of his foot between the door and the frame.

"Also. Question.” You quirk a brow. “This is probably really weird to ask because we don't even know each other, but, are you avoiding me? I feel like you are. Was it because of my …crying?" He whispers the last part like its some sacred omen.

"Huh?"

"What happened at the elevator. Can’t you—can’t you just forget about that? I mean I have no idea if you’re avoiding me because of it, but I feel like you are and I don’t know, I just need a confirmation. It’s driving me fucking insane and, and as a man—”

God, you’d do anything to not be the victim of a macho man attempting to explain how weak it is to shed a few tears. So you reveal the reality that you are currently living in. A reality where you dreamed about fucking Choi Yeonjun, A.K.A someone you would consider a mortal enemy by this point.

“I had a sex dream.” It’s the first time you see him taken aback, blinking rapidly, clueless of what you just said. “About you.” you confirm, pursing your lips at the few seconds of silence that followed after. Presuming he has nothing to say to you look down at his foot that was the sole reason you hadn’t shut the door yet.

He scrambles, flustered when he realizes, moving his feet, an incredulous chuckle leaving his lips right after, “Um, yeah, sorry— a sex dream? About me? Huh. I always knew—” With dread, you slam the door shut before he could get another word in, the last thing you see being a smug grin on his face with the newly found information settling in and god you just want to rip your hair out— the absolute last thing you wanted to do was feed his ego. Which you had clearly served to have done.

You choose to huddle up on your couch, watching a random Netflix show to pass time on your vacation day but the show’s too uninteresting so you inevitably end up spacing out.

You’re not entirely sure why you’ve been particularly childish about the dream. Especially since you’ve had awkward sex dreams before, the one about your fuck-ass boss taking the number one spot for most traumatizing. But you’ve never actively ignored anyone or even gave it a second thought other than “Holy shit that was weird.”

So, your subconscious leads you to believe you resorted to avoidance due to the contents of your dream. Said contents being you… dominating a man. Roped up cocky Yeonjun at mercy of every feather touch, squirming in his restraints, face a teary mess with his hair plastered onto his forehead from all the sweat, a ballgag drenched with his spit just to keep him shut, salivating dumbly down under his chin, the prettiest fucked out look, putting the little shit in his place and holy shit are you touching yourself?

Like some prude, you retract your hand out from under your pants and curse yourself at seeing your fingers stick because of your substance—Yeonjun was driving you crazy. And you hated it, he was at most five years younger than you and throughout your life span, you have never felt anything for a younger man—its always been a turn off. Especially when it shows. And with Yeonjun, oh it showed.

Even now as your reverie gets broken by an unrythmic knock similar to before, leading you to be faced by Yeonjun. For the second time today.

His stance is a lot different than an hour ago, almost like that one time on the elevator. “…Hey?” You start out with raised eyebrows.

Confused by his silence you assume what this was about, “I seriously don’t mind the party, I’ll be—”

Your eyes widen in surprise when Yeonjun’s lips crash on yours, roughly taking you up a wind before the realizations sets in the moment his hand start going places it should not be going. You bite down on his lip and he pulls away instantly, groaning, wide eyed, tears already springing on his waterline from the pain. He has the audacity to look offended as he yells with childish shriek of his voice, “What the hell?!”

“Are you insane? Who gave you the right to kiss me you fucking pervert?” You yell back, still shocked at his sudden advancement, finger lingering on your lips.

He visibly deflates with a knit of his eyebrows, eyes wide, "Um? You...you just told me you had a sex dream...of me."

"So?" you whisper-shout exasperated.

"I thought—"

You cut him off. "You thought what? I'd let you barge in here like some lead in a porno and...fuck me?"

He seems to think for a few seconds before literally...nodding, making you nearly gasp. "Well, sort of...yeah? I mean, women don't tell you that they've had a wet dream about you without trying to say something non-verbally." He seems almost proud when he says that, as if he has hundreds of experience in women psych.

Holy fuck. You dreamed about fucking this kid. A dumb frat whose probably got everything handed to him just because he was moderately pretty.

But maybe he wasn't too far off, because you find yourself stupidly attracted to his slightly bruised lip from your bite earlier, his eyes still glossy, iris looking up waiting for you to say something. Holy shit.

"How old are you?" If the age gap was bigger than three years—

"Turned twenty-three last September. Why?"

Two years. Oh fuck, to hell with it all.

You ignore his question and jump straight in the cold, freezing water. "How...much are you willing to do to...fuck me?" The question came out a lot more awkward than you intended.

He huffs out a laugh incredulously waiting for you to say that was a joke, but too much time has passed and now he's seriously thinking it over for a second. "Um...a lot? I don't know. I'm just super horny right now."

If you were in your right mind, you would've rejected him. Out the door he would've been because the way he drawled super had to have been the biggest turn off. But you were also a woman at mercy to her sexual desires. And right now, your sexual desire was Yeonjun.

"Okay," you exhale. "Sure. Let's fuck. But we're doing this my way."

-----

You surprisingly don't possess any toys...other than an unused dildo. You're not sure if he'd be too into that, or if you know him enough to even propose such an idea. So... you’re left empty handed; now all you had was your word and control.

And the slight age difference seemed to help it out too. “I-I’m—holy shit— I’m gonna cum noona, noona—"

Abruptly, you move from his neck that you were just lightly sucking on, hand once palming him over his sweats, retracted. He whines from the loss of friction, opening his shut eyes to give you the nastiest look as he tries to quickly bring back his high but he clearly fails when he groans, nearly feeling his eyes get teary. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I told you to stop calling me noona. Plus, I'm not gonna let you soil your pants the minute I get my hands on you."

Wild runs in his eyes and its unlike you’ve seen him. "Holy shit, you're so—" But it’s not intimidating. You cut him off by straddling his lap, and if you weren’t nicer you would’ve laughed at how fast his expression changed. Dumb kid.

He was totally awestricken, wetting his lips for a second until opening them again, "—fucking hot."

You strike a sharp blow across his face, the slap silencing him abruptly. His lips are slightly parted, confusion ridden in his features, his cheek quickly turning a shade of red, ears ringing—then you start grinding and his expression once again morphs into something sinfully pathetic, except this time he had those tears threatening to spill. “Don’t call me hot again. Understood?”

“It’s a fucking complim—”

You shove two fingers in his mouth to attempt of actually shutting this man up, and for a bit it serves to gag him until a lewd thought popped in your head. “Suck. Or I kick you out and you can jerk off your stupid dick alone.”

He immediately obeys, sucking on your two fingers, his saliva coating them. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shifting his position and not attempting to buck his hips like a dumb rabid dog. He was getting off from this.

You were proven more when you start pumping your digits in his mouth, too fascinated at how he sucks in his cheeks, making eye contact, whining on your fingers. “Why’re you so frustrating? Could’ve been a good boy from the beginning.”

You rolled your hips into his more, his dick hardening you’re surprised he hasn’t complained yet. “When are we gonna fuck?” He whines when your fingers are out of his watering mouth.

Clearly, you speak too soon.

“Never if you keep being a fucking bitch. You know how much sleep I lost because of your idiotic shenanigans? Let me have my fun.”

A lot. He was insufferable the first three months, dark circles getting more deep set. Feeling anger bubble up, you move to roughly trailing wet kisses down his neck and goodness is he audible—his soft moans are truly music to your ears. “You’re loud.”

And it gets you to needily grind down on his bulge even more, your core aching. Unfortunately, he takes this as you scolding him to be quiet, and so for a second, he’s extremely quiet. “No, no, want you to be loud. Love your needy voice, such a pretty dumb boy.” you breathe, getting off on his lap.

You suck hard on a sensitive spot and he spasms, whimpering. “Noona—”

You bite down on his exposed shoulder and Yeonjun cries. “Told you to stop calling me that freak.”

“Don’t care, I wanna call you noona,” you swallow the lump in your throat because the honorific does spur you on his lap, “My noona.”

Your eyes widen, flustered hands raising to slap him again, which he doesn’t dodge. Hot cheeks so red from the two times you hit his pretty face, tears long spilling down them, is so much better than the dream—except his bratty smirk pulls you out of the fantasy. “Stop pushing it dumb frat.”

His hips buck to hump up against your pussy and you really start to think he enjoys getting slapped. “P-please, want your pussy. Been thinking about it all week.”

“All week?”

“Y-yeah, since that guy fucked you dumb, like a bitch.” If it weren’t for how distracted you were getting by his twitching dick in between your thighs, you would’ve given him another strike against his face—and maybe then he would’ve shut up for good.

“You want to fuck me like a bitch?” you slur in his ear in mock tone, “You?”

He furrows his brows, visibly getting haughty. “Yes, me. What about it?” he bites.

You whine at the cute knit of his brows, the pout that rests his pretty lips. You lean to kiss them, you’ve been thinking of doing that since the beginning—they looked so pillowy, soft, everything you could now feel as he eagerly returns the chaste mouth to mouth.

It’s quick to turn messy, spit smothered by the side of his lips when you cup his cheeks—then you let go, abruptly. Yeonjun tries to blindly chase your lips, but you’re unrelenting, working yourself on his lap. “You can’t fuck me like him Jjunie.”

“I can fuck your brains out, you—” He’s mid barking back at your statement, his ego clearly beaten down to the ground, but you do the next thing you’ve been dying to try—playing with his nipples. You graze them with your thumb when you’ve had your hands under his shirt for a good minute—a fact unnoticed by the man under you—and that gets him mewling. Mewling.

“F-fuck, don’t touch me there..”

“But I thought you could fuck my brains out?” you mock with a pout, “How come you get like this just by…”

You pinch his nipples slightly and he throws his back on the couch almost immediately, whimpering through his tightly closed lips. “Me touching your tits?”

“Don’t c-call them that.”

“Tits? But you like this don’t you?” you ask softly, studying every bit of a jerk, or a slight quiver of his bottom lip. He loved every second of this, but you needed him to tell you. You stop massaging his nips, removing your hand entirely from under his shirt, which gets his eyes to fly open, holding your wrist. “I do! I do. I like it when you play with my tits.” he says exasperated, raising your hand under his shirt again.

What a desperate whore.

You smirk, incredibly engrossed by his eagerness, and his swollen glistening lips from your brief makeout earlier. “Yeah?” you drawl, pressing on his bud just a tiny bit, and he nods. Thank god he was sensitive.

“Mhm.” he hums, still pathetically chasing your warmth. All he can think with is his dick.

“Thought about wrecking my tight, little pussy so bad all week, huh? Jerked off to the thought all week? Poor baby. Then I have to make it up to you today don’t I?” you know those words would make him act up more, getting him unbearably hard to the point its torture. And god, now your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy.

“N-noona let me—let me—” Yeonjun’s crying more as the friction between your bodies gets too overwhelming for him— and gosh, does he look like such a dumb boy; none of his cocky stupid shit from earlier.

It was hot.

“Want my pussy?”

His nods are frantic, so much that you snort. “Yes, yes please. Wanted to fuck you dumb ever since you came over. You never gave me any attention, jus’ wanted to make a mess of you, cumming all over your tits—”

No way. He was a pervert from the beginning? You thought he hated your guts just as much as you did him. “Did that filthy fantasy give you a good enough reason to ruin my sleep schedule and ..and all my chances at a promotion? Huh? Because of you i can’t even dream of it—“

You were lying. Losing sleep had definitely affected your work performance but it wasn’t to the point you couldn’t aim for a little promotion. But you liked seeing his guilt pool in, crying, crying sooo pathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know noona, I swear.”

His hiccups are enough to get you to fasten your speed on his lap, the friction working to get you off.

“Yeah. Because your undeveloped brain can’t grasp at the real worlds consequence. I hate guys like you. So immature and dumb.”

That snaps something in him clearly as he finds the tongue to retort, “If you hated me you—you wouldn’t be getting off on my cock.”

You scoff, especially at picking up on the strained moan he tries to conceal, the shudder of his body giving away the orgasm. Choi Yeonjun just came. Untouched.

You could feel it between your legs, the warmth spread disgustingly all over and you grimace. “Gross.”

He groans out of embarrassment, hiding his face with an arm. And now you’re just sitting on his wet lap, contemplating two things. Kicking him out or getting to satisfy your needs?

Unfortunately, the banging on a door pauses your movement of unbuckling his jeans and you can’t hide the roll of your eyes. “Yeonjun! Are you home?!”

Convenient timing. Not.

You don’t let your disappointment show—he came and you hadn’t. You instead turn to face him, giving him a mocking smile, “You have a party to host ...oops.” And at least end it with the illusion you had the upper hand.

But Yeonjun is not as willing to give it up. “I don’t give a shit. I host these weekly,” Oh, you know. “…Can you at the least …let me eat you out?”

#############################

a/n; lol this got longer than i intended to the point i was thinking about naming it and getting it out as an actual fic but ehhhhh ill leave it raw 🥲 wish my shitty neighbor was yeonjun but we move 😁!!!!!

#yeonjun smut #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #sub!idol #txt hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours

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kpop---scenarios · 1 month

Text

Dark Book Series (1) - Masked

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Warning: A lot of mentions of murder, blood, and smut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 5.4k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @skittlez-area512 @skzdust @gnabnahcsworld @onlyhyunjin @stephanieeeyang @lostasoulinthedarkness @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @iam-wh0

@ayyonoona

“You're not still seeing Felix are you?” Your best friend, Yujin asks, switching her load of laundry from the washer and putting it into the dryer.

You turn your head to look at her and laugh. “Yeah.” You smile. “We've been seeing each other for a few months. Why?” You ask, also switching your load. She was only at the laundromat with you because the machines in your building broke and your landlord is too much of a cheap ass to get them fixed. Though Yunjin has her own home, the both of you prefer the bulky washer and dryer at the shop, so you can do a bigger load.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone, typing things in, holding it to her chest as she speaks. “Listen… I'm not saying it's him for sure. But you remember that coworker you were having issues with? June?” She mumbles.

“Oh my god! June!” You exclaim. “Look at this.” You say, waving her over. June rolls her eyes as she gets up from her desk, shuffling over to you.

“What?” She snaps.

“We overpaid to the LCC. Look. Like, 8 thousand dollars too much.” You say, pointing to the payment total. “I'll go tell Soobin.” You say, pushing away from your desk.

“No!” She yells. “I'm already up, I'll go tell him.” She finishes, walking away from your desk. You watch her walk over there, faintly hearing every few words she tells him.

“Overpaid…8 thousand… Y/N.” Oh good. She mentioned it was you who found it. You were worried for a second that she would try to take the credit. She had been absolutely fucking awful to you as a mentor the last few months. Nothing you did was ever good enough in her eyes, even the teeniest, tiniest mistake, she pointed out, rather loudly, calling you an idiot. This happened on multiple occasions.

“Y/N.” Soobin calls out. “My office, please.” He says, gesturing June into his office, just as you see your department head walking straight towards Soobin's office. This made your stomach turn. What was going on?

You got up from your chair, making your way down the little corridor hallway down to his office, behind the head of the department. You step inside, closing the door, taking the last seat available as everyone stares at you.

“What happened with the LCC?” Mr. Jung, the head of the department, asks you.

“I was just relooking at the invoice today and noticed that it was overpaid.”

“By 8 thousand dollars?” He asks. “Who paid them?”

“June did.” You say, gesturing to her. She scoffs at you.

“I'm not an idiot like you, Y/N. I would never overpay like that.” She says. “Y/N paid the invoice.” She says, smirking at you.

“W-what?” You gasp. “No I didn't. It has June's name on it.”

“Do you even know how to read?” June laughs. “Who hired this one?” She chuckles, looking between Soobin and Mr. Jung.

“You liar!” You snap. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, enough.” Mr. Jung says. “We will conduct our own investigation. You both enjoy the rest of your day. It's 5 pm, so go home.” He finishes. You stand up first, walking out of the office, while June calls your name, but you ignore her. You didn't want to deal with her, only thinking about the fact that your new boyfriend was down on the sidewalk waiting for you.

As fast as you can, you gather your belongings, unfortunately still meeting June at the elevator. The ride down to the ground floor is quiet. You can feel your ears turning red as you fume. The bell dings, opening the door, and you walk out quickly, not bothering to hold the door for June. The second you see Felix, it's like a sense of relief washed over you. You walk straight to him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you closely.

“June's a bitch.” You mumble into him, just as the door opens, out walking the bitch herself.

“Can you take your PDA elsewhere?” She scoffs. “No one wants to see that.”

“I'm going to guess you're June.” Felix says, pulling away from you.

“I-I am.” She says.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N’s boyfriend, Felix.” He says, extending his hand. She shakes it, but winces. You not noticing how hard Felix was squeezing it. “I hope you're treating my girl well.” He finishes, releasing her hand. She nods her head, wiggling her fingers as she walks away.

“I don't like her.” Felix laughs, opening the car door for you.

“Mhm, me either.” You mumble, getting into the passenger seat. Not noticing the smile that spread across Felix’s lips as he made his way to the driver's seat.

“Yeah? What about her?” You ask, feeling nervous. You glance around the laundry shop, it's quiet for a Saturday night.

Yujin turns her phone screen to face you, showing you the latest news article.

“Woman - 57, Found Dead In The Park.” You mutter, scrolling down slightly. “June Erikson, 57 who was an employee at JPH accounting, Found dead this morning from multiple stab wounds…” You trail off.

Yujin looks at you with wide eyes, placing her phone back in her lap. “That's so sad. Oh my god. I feel awful for her family.” You sigh.

“That's it?” Yujin exclaims. “That's how you react to that news?” She asks.

“I'm sorry?” You say. “How am I supposed to react?”

“You're supposed to be scared!” Yujin yells. “Felix did this!”

“What? Why?” You laugh. “Do you know something I don't?”

“I'm telling you, Y/N. It was Felix. You complained about her a lot. Think about it.”

“Oh my god. I can't deal with her anymore!” You exclaim to Felix. “Everyday it's something.”

“Baby, it's only Monday.” Felix laughs. “What happened?”

“She told everyone that I fucked up an account, and it wasnt me! I don't even have access to that account!” You whine.

“Just breathe, baby. Tomorrow will be better.” He says, placing a kiss on your lips.

“So how was it today?” Felix asks, as you slide into the car.

You sit there with your arms crossed, sniffling. You're trying not to cry but June was horrendous to you and you hated her so much.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Felix sighs, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives away from your work.

The next three days were all the same. June was relentless to you, she never let up, she was never nice and you so desperately wanted to quit even though you absolutely loved your job. She was just the worst part of it the entire thing.

“Oh babe.” He sighs, wrapping you in a hug. “You won't have to worry about her for much longer.” He smiles.

“Okay?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I complained about her to you as well. Are you sure you didn't kill her?” You ask.

“You know I'd never do that!” She scoffs.

“Just like I know he wouldn't do that either.” You sigh. “You really gotta stop this.”

“I'm sorry, I don't believe it wasn't him. Remember the night you met?” She asks.

It never fails, Anything Felix does or says has her bringing up that night.

“Fuck men!” You scream, your friends dragging you down the street, as you all drunkenly laugh, enjoying your night out. You had just broken up with your last boyfriend, a real piece of shit, and you were so happy to be free, and able to have fun and do what you want.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Some man yells, glaring towards you and your friends.

“Aww, did that upset you? Someone's got small dick syndrome.” You laugh, yelling back as they try to drag you away.

“The fuck did you say to me?” He screams, rushing towards you. He stomps towards you, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he approaches you, waving his finger. You close your eyes, tensing up as you wait for some sort of impact, but it doesn't come. You open one eye, peaking out, seeing a man standing in front of you, the man who was previously screaming at you, stopped in his tracks.

“You better watch what the fuck is gonna come out of your mouth next.” he snaps, no hint of humor in his very deep voice.

“This doesn't involve you.” The man scoffs, trying to move past the man who was helping you. He doesn't get very far, the man helping you, grabs the other by the collar, pulling him in close.

“You take one more fucking step, and I'll kill you and your whole fucking family. Understood?” He asks.

The man looks at you, muttering something about you not being worth it, before pushing the man off of him, turning around to go back to his friends.

The man who helped you turned around, and you felt like you had died and gone to heaven. He was the most attractive man you had ever seen. Blonde hair slicked back, dark eyes and a sinister smile.

Just your type.

“Thank you…” You trail off, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Felix.” He laughs.

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile, slowly shaking his hand. You were so mesmerized by him, you couldn't look away.

“Y/N…” Your friend, Jennie, urges, grabbing your shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go.” Jisoo whispers, pulling on your other hand.

You smile at Felix, walking backwards with your friends, still staring at him as he smiles, watching you walk away. From that moment on, you knew he'd be yours.

“That was fucking weird.” Yujin says, laughing. You can tell it's her uncomfortable laugh, she didn't like him right off the bat.

“It was hot.” You say.

“You're a psychopath.” Yujin shivers.

“He was just trying to protect me. And you, Jennie and Jisoo. He's not a bad man. I don't know why you can't just look past that.” You huff, grabbing your clothes from the dryer. “Look, I gotta go. Felix is waiting for me. Just please try to give him a chance?” You half smile, leaning in for a quick side hug, hoping things between her and Felix would get better.

A few weeks later, Jennie, Yujin and Jisoo had finally agreed to go out with you and Felix. You were so excited that all your favorite people were going to be in the same room, getting to know each other and hopefully finally getting along.

“I don't know why she doesn't like me.” Felix sighs, the two of you sit in a quiet pub where the music isn't as loud, people are calmer and the atmosphere is a little more relaxed.

“She will babe, I promise.” You smile at him, grabbing his hand. “Tonight she'll see how great you are.” You finish, leaning in for a quick kiss.you hear the bells on the door ringing, along with loud chatter. You can already tell it was your friends coming in. You turn around smiling and waving them over to the table, you and Felix already were sat at.

“Hi guys.” You smile as they all sit across the table from you two. “What's going on?” You ask.

“Jennie was just telling us about Hyunjin, she thinks he's going to propose.” Jisoo giggles. Your mouth drips as you grab her hands.

“Oh my god! That's so exciting!” You shriek. “Aw, you'd make the most beautiful bride.” You gush. You glance over at Felix, who's smiling, watching you with your friends.

“Sorry babe.” You laugh. “I’d officially like you guys to meet Felix.” You say, pointing to him. “Felix, this is Yujin who you sort of know, Jisoo and Jennie.” You say, pointing out each one. Felix stands up, shaking each one of the other hands, Jennie and Jisoo giggling as they look at him, but Yujin is straight faced, giving him a little smile.

She was going to be tougher than you thought.

“What do you guys want to drink?” You ask. They all give you their drink orders, Felix slides you his card with a wink, as he begins to talk to your friends, Jennie and Jisoo already immersed in the conversation as Yujin sits back with her arms crossed, observing the interactions.

“Hi.” You smile at the bartender. “Can I get 3 vodka crans, one vodka and sprite, a rum and coke and then 5 shots of tequila please?” You ask, setting down Felix’s card.

“Need some help, darling?” You hear a deep voice from behind you. You smile, turning around, expecting to see Felix but instead you're met with the face of a man you don't know.

“No thank you.” You say politely, grabbing a few drinks, taking them to your table and heading back to the bar for the rest.

“You sure? A pretty girl like you can't do everything yourself.” He winks.

“I'm good. Thanks.” You say, grabbing the rest of the drinks. The man grabs your wrist, holding you in your spot. By the time you look up at him, Felix has already gotten up and made it to you, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it off of you.

“She said she was good, man. Take the hint.” Felix says, taking a few drinks from your hand, and moving out of the way for you to go first. You blush as you make your way back to your seat, Jisoo and Jennie giggling at the interaction that just happened.

You didn't notice Felix turning his head to glare at the man, but Yujin sure did. A few hours later, Felix gives you a long kiss, heading to the bathroom, while you girls drunkenly gush about anything and everything.

“Thoughts, feelings, concerns?” You ask, as soon as Felix is out of ear shot.

“I like him!” Jennie exclaims.

“Me too!” Jisoo smiles.

“I don't like him.” Yujin yawns. “He's fake. He's acting and I don't fucking like it.” She snaps.

“You're never going to be happy for me, are you?” you sigh, feeling slightly defeated.

A few minutes of silence later, Felix wanders back from the bathroom, rubbing his hand along your back. “You ready, baby?” He asks, letting out a yawn.

“Absolutely.” You smile. “Thank you girls for coming out tonight. Let's do it again soon!” You smile, but give Yujin a little glare before you slide your fingers in between Felix’s.

“It was really nice to meet you guys. Thanks for a great night.” Felix smiles towards all three of the women. Jisoo and Jennie wave to you both, while Yujin keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd say that went well.” Felix smiles at you, as you both pass the alley on your way home. You don't have the heart to tell him what Yujin said.

“I think so too.”

The next morning you woke up to a few missed calls and texts from Yujin. You open one eye trying to focus without closing your eye, until the headline she texted you catches your eye.

“Man Found Dead Outside Local Pub.” You read.

You dial Yujin's number, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you wait for her to answer.

“Did you read the article?” She asks, answering the phone.

“Yeah?” You say. “Who is that?”

“The guy from the bar!” She yells. You crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Felix as you shuffle to the bathroom.

“What guy?” You ask, quietly closing the bathroom door.

“The one that came up to you when you were getting drinks.” She harshly whispers. “He was murdered. Just like June!”

“Okay? So there's a killer out there. Honestly Yujin. I appreciate you looking out for me, but this really is getting tiring. You don't spend time with him like I do. You don't know him.” You sigh.

This shit was giving you a headache.

“I'm just trying to protect you!” She yells.

“Seems like the only person I need protecting from is you. You're trying to ruin what is probably the best relationship that I've ever had. Enough.” You snap, ending the call.

After that day, Yujin had gotten to Jennie and Jisoo, and their once fondness for Felix, turned into hate awfully quickly, and you hated it. You truly did not understand where they were coming from. He didn't hit you, he didn't yell at you and call you names. He treated you like a princess, listened to you, cheered you up, he baked for you. He was everything you ever wanted and more, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let your friends ruin this relationship for you. So you stopped going out with them, you responded to calls and texts but not in the same way you did before. Your responses were dry, responding with the bare minimum answers and you knew they knew that you were disappointed but they were still your friends and you were still going to try to get them to see Felix the way you did.

“I just don't get it.” You whine to Jennie and Jisoo. “You guys loved him when you met him.”

“He was great…he might still be but like… Yujin had some really good points too. It's only been like, what, 5 months of the two of you dating and two people that have come into contact with you have died?” Jennie says.

“It's kinda crazy.” Jisoo adds.

“So is thinking that Felix is the kind of man who goes around murdering people.” You scoff. “That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”

“Is it?” Jisoo asks.

You let out a long sigh. You were so frustrated with how they were acting but unfortunately you weren't able to control the way other people react.

“Come on.” Jennie smiles. “Yujin is waiting at the bar.” She finishes, pulling your hand. Felix had gone out with some of his friends, which had led you to deciding to go out with yours, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it.

And you did.

“Y/N!” Yujin smiles, standing up to hug you. She was surrounded by four men when the three of you walked into the bar. “I'm so glad you came. I've missed you.”

You smile back at her.

“I missed you too.” You say, wrapping your arms around her, hugging her back.

“Come, sit, meet some people.” She murmurs, pulling you down beside her.

“This is Yunho, San, Hongjoong, and Mingi.” She says, pointing to each handsome man sitting around the table. You give them each a small smile and a wave, feeling uncomfortable, almost like this was set up, for you specifically.

“So, Y/N.” Mingi smiles. “What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I uh, working at an accounting firm.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink. “What about you?”

“How's that? Fun? Boring?” He laughs. “The four of us are in a band.” He smiles, motioning between himself and the other three.

“That's cool.” You respond, trying to catch the attention of Yujin.

“Would you… Maybe wanna get out of here? Go somewhere more private to get to know each other?” Mingi asks. You raise your eyebrow as you stare at him.

“What did Yujin tell you this was?” You ask.

Mingi laughs. “To be honest, she thought we would mesh well. This is like a blind date… Isn't it?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, sliding your chair back, standing up and walking towards Yujin who had moved down towards Hongjoong. “Seriously?” You snap, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She asks, trying to play innocent.

“Don't. Don't do that innocent act shit. A blind date, Yujin? Really?” You respond.

She throws her hands up in frustration. “Would you have come if I told you?” She asks.

“Obviously not.” You spit.

“Exactly! There's better out there for you! You just needed to be shown.” She smiles.

“I'm not leaving Felix for Mingi.” You say. “He seems lovely, but I'm happy. Why can't you get that through your head?”

“Because!” She yells. “How can you be in love with a murderer!?”

“I can't. I can't do this with you anymore.” You scoff. “I'm just done.” You finish, walking back to your chair to grab your bag. “I'm sorry Mingi, it was nice to meet you but I have to go.” You smile, grabbing your bag and walking out the door.

Yujin called and texted apologies everyday. For months. And you didn't respond to any of them, you were too mad and frustrated at her to respond calmly.

“Another text.” You sigh, looking down at your phone.

“Babe.” Felix pipes up. It had now been 3 months since you had spoken to Yujin. “I think you need to forgive her.” He says.

You look up at him, shocked. “What?”

“It's been months. How many times does she need to apologize for what she's done? She's your best friend.” He says.

“Yeah… but she set me up on a blind date, Felix. How could she think that's okay?” You ask.

“Because she's being protective of you. Like I am. Was I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I understand where she was coming from? You bet.” He says. “She'll come around.” He smiles.

“What if she doesn't?” You ask.

“Then we'll make her.” He winks.

A few days later, you're sitting in Yujins house with her. All the crying, hugging was finally finished.

“Okay.” Yujin, sighs. “I know what your answer is probably going to be. But I'm going to invite you anyway because I love you and I hope you'll come.”

“Okay?” You laugh, raising your eyebrow, curious about what's going to come out of her mouth next.

“I'm having a Halloween party next weekend. Costumes, drinks, games, the works. I really hope you'll think about coming.” She smiles.

“Oh!” You exclaim, laughing. “That sounds fun! Felix loves Halloween and dressing up.” You laugh, pulling out your phone to text him.

Yunjin sits there silently for a second, you can see her face sort of contorting as she thinks about how to put her next sentence as delicately as she can. You already knew what she was going to say. It had been 9 months now, and she still didn't like him or trust him.

“Actually, I just meant I'd like you to come. I'm sorry, but he's not invited.” Yujin whispers, twiddling her thumbs together.

“Yujin. Did we not just have a whole episode of working things out?” You snap.

“Yeah we did and I'm grateful for that because I've missed you. But he's still as fucking weird, intense and controlling as he was that day!” She snaps. “You deserve better! But you keep getting with these fucking losers.”

“Controlling? You've met him like twice, and put in no effort, except to judge him. He's not controlling.” You sigh.

“Then why don't you ever come out anymore? We used to do fun things all the time.” She pouts.

“Because of you! And your lack of consideration for my relationship.” You snap. “If you had a little more respect for me and Felix, then maybe I would.”

“Yeah, sure. It's not him at all.” She scoffs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go. Text me the details for the party. I'll think about it.” You sigh, getting up off the couch and heading for the front door.

You already knew you'd be going to the party. You knew Felix would be joining you, and you were all going to have a great fucking time.

The next weekend, you showed up to the Halloween party in a full Harley Quinn costume. You thought you did an amazing job on the costume, and by your friends' reactions, they thought so too.

“I'm so happy you decided to come.” Yujin smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Me too.”

“So what's the plan?” You ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“It's just gonna be us four for a few hours. We're gonna pregame until the party starts around nine!” She grins.

“That sounds perfect.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Jisoo!” Yujin calls out, you, Jennie and her gathered around the island in the kitchen, waiting for Jisoo to come downstairs.

“Should I go look for her?” Jennie asks.

Yujin sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She was done like 30 minutes ago, I don't know why she isn't down here already.”

Jennie leaves the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. You and Yujin are chatting about nothing, when you hear the start of a scream before it's cut off. You both look at eachother, walking forward, very slowly, your arms linked together.

“Jennie?” You call out, in a semi whisper. “Are you okay?”

You hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. Jennie rounds the corner, but she's not alone. Someone in a mask stands behind her, a knife placed to her throat.

“Jisoo? Did you completely change your costume?” Yujin laughs. “Scared the shit out of her, I didn't you?” She says to Jennie, who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She's trying to hold in her sobs as the person behind her cocks their head to the side.

Yujin realizes quickly that it's not Jisoo under the mask. “Who are you?” Yujin asks. “What do you want?”

No answer.

You and Yujin stand there, breathing heavily as Jennie mouths pleas to the two of you, begging you to help her.

“Just step away from h…” You begin, stepping forward. The knife is pulled away from her throat, she breathes a sigh of relief, hunching over as she tries to catch her breath. The person grabs onto her hair, yanking her back up before plunging the knife through her back, the tip poking out of her stomach.

“No!” You and Yujin scream in unison, watching your friend have the life taken from her.

She gasps and gargles as the knife is ripped out of her body and shoved in again, and again, and again, until she can no longer stand. The masked person shoves her lifeless body to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and each wound, the blood pooling around her body on the floor.

Screams erupt from you and Yujin, tears spilling from your eyes. The two of you go through the double doors to the living room, both of you frantically trying to find your cell phones. Jennie's body is dragged into the living room, streaks of blood left on the floor as she's dropped near the two of you.

“Why are you doing this!?” Yujin screams. “Where's Jisoo!?”

The masked person walks towards you two, turning towards the closet in the hall, pointing there.

“No, No…She's dead.” You gasp, crying a little harder.

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!?” Yujin screams. You let go of her hand, walking towards the faceless person. “Y/N!” Yujin screams. “What are you doing!?” She panics.

As you get closer, the person begins to lift the mask, and you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend.

“Felix?” She gasps. You turn around, looking horrified that it's your boyfriend. She was right.

Of course she was. He walks up behind you, placing the knife against your neck as he places a small kiss on the side of your neck.

“Please don't kill her.” Yujin cries.

“Oh.” You laugh, wiping away your tears. “He's not going to kill me.” You giggle, taking the drenched knife from his hands.

“Hi baby.” Felix whispers in your ear.

“W-what is happening?” Yujin gasps.

“You know, Yujin. I got really tired of you accusing Felix of being a murderer.” You laugh. “Even though you were spot on.”

“She was.” Felix laughs. “You should have been an investigative journalist or a police officer.”

“So he did kill those people! And you knew?” She asks, her face contorted into a disgusted look.

“Yes, and yes.” You laugh. “Your constant nagging was getting really annoying. So when I approached Felix about an idea I had, I knew he would be totally in.”

“You planned this?” She asks. “We're supposed to be best friends!”

“Yeah, supposed to be. But you just couldn't let me be happy! You really have no one else to blame but yourself.” You sigh. “But I also had a condition. Felix had to leave you…” You pause.

“Thank you… thank you… I'm not ready to die.” She sobs.

“Oh, honey, no.” You laugh. “He had to leave you for me.”

“What?” She whispers. You grip the knife in your hand, walking towards hers.

“If you had just left me alone this whole thing could have been avoided.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder with one hand, forcing the knife into her stomach. She stares at you with wide eyes as you push the knife in a little harder.

“Oh baby.” You laugh. “You were right, this is fucking exhilarating.” You groan. You pull the knife from her stomach, ramming it in again in a new spot as her body begins to collapse.

You pull the knife out, your hand covered in blood as you drop the knife, watching Yujin slowly dying on the floor. She tries to speak but blood pours from her mouth.

“That was so fucking hot.” Felix groans, pulling you towards him. He plants his lips onto yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Your bloody hand moves down to his crotch, feeling his already hard cock, growing even more.

“Fuck me.” You murmur.

Felix guides you to the couch, pushing you down onto the floor, your stomach laying on the couch. He flips up your skirt before quickly unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his cock. Felix rips your tights open in the back, kicking your knees apart to spread yourself more. He spits into his hand, gliding it up your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. Felix pumps his fingers a few times before he pulls them out, lubing up his cock with your juices. He quickly and harshly thrusts himself inside of you, grabbing your neck and squeezing. He pulls you up against him, his hot breath hitting your ear as he rams his cock inside of you.

“Did it feel good?” He groans. “Shoving that knife into her?” He gasps as you clench your cunt around him.

“So fucking good.” You cry out, reaching down between your lips to rub your clit.

“You looked so fucking sexy doing it.” Felix grunts, ramming his cock into you.

His hand tightens around your neck, squeezing harder, making you gasp for breath.

“I fucking love you so much.” He groans, fucking you harder. “Cum, baby. Cum.” He grunts. You move your fingers faster on your clit, your orgasm coming quickly.

He releases your throat, making you cough. “Fuck. I… love… you.” You scream, cumming hard onto his cock.

Felix grips your hips, thrusting into you harder and faster, cumming right after you, filling you all the way up.

He pulls out of you, tucking himself away before he helps you up, grabbing the knife from on the floor and bringing it to the kitchen. He slips it inside the backpack he stored in the closet, setting it by the door.

“Get ready to cry, baby.” Felix grins, grabbing his phone. You make your way to Yujin's body, sprawled out on the floor, forcing your tears to come.

“Help! Please help! Our friends were murdered!” Felix cries into the phone. “We're at 44776 Roadway Lane. Hurry!” He cries, hanging up the phone.

“Ready to put on the performance of a lifetime, baby?” He grins.

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” You smile, leaning over Yujin's body, forcing the tears from your eyes to fall as the sirens get louder and closer.

“Police!” They yell from outside the door.

“In here! Please.” You scream. The police rush in, seeing your distraught face hovering over your friend as Felix cries in the corner of the room.

“What happened?” One of the officers asks, pulling you away from the body.

“W-we… were having a Halloween party.” You sob. “The five of us… we were going to drink a little before it started later. Someone broke in… started stabbing them… we hid in the closet until we heard the person leave.” You cry.

“Do you have a description of the person?” The officer asks.

“No. We didn't see the person. The person was wearing a mask. And then we hid.” Felix cries.

“I'm so sorry.” The officer sighs. “Let's get you two checked out.”

Felix stands up, holding his hand out for you. You grab his hand, whimpering into his arm as the officer guides you out of the house. Felix grabs his backpack, and you both walk down the walk away, hand in hand, leaving the crime you committed behind you.

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