#slight breathplay

[glimmerglanger]

to the wall

Happy Monday!

I return with another @codywankinkbingo fic, this one dedicated to @frostbitebakery! "to the wall" is a NO66, post-war, established relationship fic for my wall sex prompt. SPICY!

This is a relatively short piece where Cody and Obi-Wan have an unpleasant run-in at a party and then go home to clarify a few matters.

Thanks so much for the inspiration that came from this picture, frost!

You can find my card under the cut! No bingos. Maybe later this week, though.

[rinhaler]

Trigger Finger Ready and Got Nowhere To Run To

Did you ever imagine your boyfriend would offer up your body to solve a yakuza dispute? No, but you aren't surprised.

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yakuza!ryomen sukuna x f!reader x yakuza!toji fushiguro

Genre: filthy filthy porn with a plot Notes: biggest happy bday to the dilf of dilfs (and my husband of husbands), toji!! (++ sukuna bc they r both beefy n hot :3) Warnings: 18+, dub/noncon, mentions of violence/murder, toxic!relationship, free use ♡, manipulation, jealousy, fem!Uraume, degradation ♡, praise, no prep, oral fixation ♡, size!kink, daddy!kink, choking (hands + belt), slight breathplay, exhibitionism, spanking, dacryphilia ♡, dumbification, creampie(s), calls your pussy “she/her”, slight cucking, oral (m+f receiving), restraints, fingering ♡, pussy spanks, squirting ♡, multiple orgasms, double penetration!(one hole), brief anal mentioning, breeding ♡, belly bulge ♡, pet names (princess, brat, good girl, sweetheart). Words: 15.2k

You’re numb.

Only mentally, numb, to the word which you willingly leapt into. A world with bloodied rivers and bodies piled to the height of the highest mountains. None of it bothers you, not anymore.

Talks of murder and dismemberment barely reach your ears as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You aren’t sure why Sukuna insisted that you be here. He likes to show you off, you suppose. He likes to flaunt what he possesses, and his men never will.

“How much longer?” you whisper, eyes scanning the pages on the gossip mag in your hands. You’d rather be reading a copy of Vogue, but one of Sukuna’s idiotic subordinates picked up the wrong magazine in a hurry.

Actually… You haven’t seen him since.

“What have I told you?” your lover whispers back, he leans over to you. His head turns away from looking at the men in the room as the meeting goes on. But their boss sharing his attention with you rather than the subject at hand earns a few nosy onlookers watching you converse. “Be a brat in private, not here.”

You sigh, crossing one leg over the other as you carry on reading. Sukuna’s hand rests on your thigh before he scowls at the men who’d dare to look at him with an emotion other than fear in their eyes.

He stands up, staring down silently at everyone in the room. It even manages to get your attention. The dread he’s able to instill into his subordinates is more than just impressive to you. It’s exhilirating. Sukuna is a king, and not just to you. To his little brother sitting nearby as the meeting continues. To the subordinates he trusts and who hang on his every solitary breath. And to the public.

People know who you are, now.

You’re Sukuna’s girl.

You were nothing, until him.

He was quite fond of your big mouth and downright horrible attitude when you met. He liked that you didn’t know who he was, and you didn’t hold back when he accidentally bumped into you while shopping. You were wearing a white sundress that hugged every inch of your body, and the coffee in your hand turned the material murky and hideous.

The men surrounding him and ready to silence you for good weren’t even registered in your mind. You didn’t even notice they were there until the friend you were shopping with told you to shut up.

You insulted him, sure. But Sukuna was barely listening. He was too drawn to the way the liquid made your already tight dress cling and stick in all of the right places. Your decision to go braless became painfully obvious to anyone who’d dare let their eyeline drop to your chest.

He dismissed his men, earning a sigh of relief from you and your friend. You watched him carefully as he pulled out his wallet.

“I ruined your dress, huh? Let me buy you a new one, and a new coffee.” he told you. Your eyes bulged as you saw the fat wad of cash in his hand. He smirked, watching your hand hesitate back and forth as you were unsure whether to accept it.

Before him, you weren’t wealthy.

The opposite, really.

You were barely making ends meet and every penny you had was spent on living essentials and rent. The money he offered you was enough for more than that. He was handing you the option to live a little. But before you could take it, before you could fully grasp the bank notes in his hand, he flicked his wrist away.

“I want your number for the pleasure of this expensive meeting.” he grinned.

In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid to accept money from a yakuza man. It seemed like too good of an offer to turn down, though.

For the pleasure of knowing Sukuna and that chance meeting, there have been ups and downs. Everything you knew before Sukuna is your old life. You can’t remember the last time you saw those friends you had. You haven’t been back to your old apartment in over a year, though you know Sukuna still pays the rent on it.

It’s used for some kind of illegal activities, you’re sure. You don’t know why else he’d still pay for it otherwise.

Your old clothes weren’t good enough for you anymore. That’s how Sukuna felt. And with each extortionate purchase he made, you began to agree. You can no longer bear the thought of wearing some cheap, discounted item like you used to. Your entire wardrobe is designer, and you’re like a new woman.

If anyone from your past could see you now, they wouldn’t recognise you.

You don’t care, though. You’ve been poor and you’ve been miserable. What Sukuna gave you that day wasn’t just money, it was an opportunity to cast the old you aside. You’re glamorous, you’re taken care of.

But most importantly, you’re loved.

You’re an object, a doll for him to play with.

But he loves you.

It’s apparent in the way you are in private together. He can be so many things in so many ways. But you know that you are more loved by him than you’ve ever been in any other relationship. He loves you more than friends and family combined.

To Sukuna, you’re everything.

“Listen. Up.” he starts. You know he doesn’t mean you. He wouldn’t mind if you kept your nose buried in your tacky magazine for the entire day. And yet, you find yourself closing it and putting it down on the desk in front of you. Your sole focus is on him. “My wife and I have better things to be doing than sitting here listening to this shit. Figure out this territorial dispute, today, or I’m going to lose my patience.”

His wife.

Everyone’s eyes fall on you when he refers to you as such, and it takes every ounce of concentration and sheer will power to stop yourself from smiling. Your face remains straight and composed, but there are two men who know you enough to see through the façade.

Sukuna, and his brother.

The elder of the two looks down at you, only because he loves to see you squirm because of him. And he’s proud of you, oh so proud that you are well behaved and know that you should appear as strict as he is.

Yuuji, however, has to turn away so no one can see how much he wants to laugh. He’s always liked you; he likes that his brother likes you and he likes how nice you are when you warm up to people. People like him. He’s gotten to know you through being his brother’s second in command. If Sukuna can’t be by your side, Yuuji will be.

And he thinks it’s cute, really, how much you love his big brother. The big brother that most would see as nought more than a terrifying monster. A murderer and a fiend who can so easily ruin lives just because he feels like it.

Yuuji thinks it’s downright adorable.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when his big brother whistles. He watches as you hurriedly stuff your magazine back into your handbag and follow him to the exit. Yuuji follows, too, after his brother gives him a commanding look.

“You shouldn’t lie.” you mutter, leaving the room and walking by Sukuna’s side as Yuuji trails behind you both. Sukuna turns his head sideways so he can look down at you. His tattooed hands remain in his pants pockets as you approach the exit of the building. You keep looking forwards, though. And he smirks.

It’s a cute little pout he recognises.

“You are my wife.” he tells you. “Don’t be a brat because I haven’t proposed, how droll.”

You scoff, finally looking at him, your full glossy lips seem to pout even harder when you actually face him.

“You know what happens when you get married for real, princess?” he asks. And you scoff, again, because you know what he’s going to say. He says the same thing every time you have this truly trite conversation. “Boring sex. And then, none at all. And I know you can’t live without this cock in you for too long.”

“You’re disgus—”

“Speaking of which,” he stops walking and turns to face you. It makes you laugh every time he talks about how boring your sex life would be if you got married. You aren’t sure how true it is, but it amuses you, nonetheless. He gets his wallet from his inner breast pocket and withdraws his credit card, handing it to you with a wide smile on his face. “That’s what you get when you’re a good girl. Thank you.” he grabs the crown of your head with a large palm and plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I thought we were talking about sex, not money.” you speak, and he smiles. “Which do you think I prefer?”

“With me, sex. In general, money.” he tells you, and you suppose he’s right. “But with money, you can buy things for sex. Unless you want to be a brat, I can take back the card. Otherwise, buy a pretty set for daddy to fuck you in.”

He loves how your demeanour changes at the use of your favourite name for him when you’re alone. Yuuji is here, yes, but he knows the intricacies of your relationship so there’s no need to be concerned.

“Theeeere she is, daddy’s good girl.” he approaches you; his hand settles on your waist. A simple cue for Yuuji to know he doesn’t want to be here. He walks on ahead; and you both watch him walk by before focusing on each other again. He backs you up until your shoulder blades rest against the wall. You tilt your head to kiss him, but he pulls his head back to tease you. “Why aren’t you always a good girl for me?” he wonders.

You allow your head to loll back against the wall with a gentle thud. He watches you, intently, wondering what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. His eyes drop as your right hand gently traces over his crisp black dress shirt until you find his tie.

And you tug.

His body cages you in and you will never get over what a behemoth of a man he is. He’s so intimidatingly large. You’re like a little mouse about to be devoured by a viper. And yet, somehow, you’re in control. He gasps, albeit quietly, but there is pleasure behind it as you pull him closer.

“You’d be so bored if I was always good, daddy. And you fuck me better when I’m a brat for you.” you tell him, voice filled with lust as your sultry tones reach his ears. His cock twitches at your words, although he’s tired of you having the upper hand. One hand grabs your jaw, and you know if he wanted to, he could break it with ease. But you smile, willingly.

If you are to die, it would be an honour by his hand.

He kills you with a kiss, instead. Your thoughts dissipate as you allow your lips to lock and teeth to clash as you needily make out. His body presses into yours, uncaring for the place or potential audience that could find you at any moment. A soft, needy moan slips by your lips as you feel his hardening bulge grind between your legs. It makes him smile, smugly and proud as he steals continuous little noises from you.

“You only keep your fucking mouth shut when you’re getting this dick.” he comments, his tongue licks against yours before he suffocates your desperately mewling with heated kisses once again. He pulls away, whispering in your ear. “You’re nice ‘n wet for daddy, yeah? Want my cock, baby?”

“Mhmm…” you nod, raising your leg to rest on his hip. His fingers squeeze into the flesh of your thigh as he helps it settle in place. His kisses are barely there anymore. Soft pecks as he gradually pulls away until you’re whimpering and begging for more. “Please, daddy… please.”

“Awe,” he gives you one final kiss before looking over his shoulder to see some of the higher ranked members of his organisation approach. He pulls away, leaving you completely breathless. “Brats don’t decide when their holes get used. Their daddy’s do.” he reminds you.

You’re left panting with your hand on your chest as he walks away. He looks over his shoulder at you before giving you a self-satisfied smirk as he waves at you.

“Keep your cunt wet for daddy.” he tells you.

You scoff, fleeing the scene quickly as the humiliation of his words surges through you. The lack of respect and discretion should make you furious. And honestly, it does. But that feeling of anger and fury is overridden with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Yuuji asks as you walk through the double doors and out into the blaring summer sun. The heat is unbearable, you’re sure the sidewalk would steam if you poured water onto it. “Are you okay? Thirsty? Can I carry your jacket?” Yuuji wonders. And you nod.

“Thanks, Yuu.” you smile, taking off your coat for him to hold for you. “You’re taking care of me again, I guess.” you sigh, but try to remain optimistic. You both know you’d rather Sukuna be the one taking you shopping, but you don’t hate spending time with his brother.

“What are we shopping for today?” he asks, opening the door to his car for you to climb into. He puts your coat in the back and rushes around to driver’s seat. “You can go crazy since he won’t be there to stop you.” he winks. You giggle a little as he buckles himself in and starts the car. “Oh, he wanted you to get some lingerie, right?”

You go quiet, looking down at your hands as you nod quickly. It’s almost unnoticeable, but Yuuji knows. He starts driving to a boutique he knows you like, smiling to himself. You’re so brazen and loud most of the time. You can be so confident and fearless.

But he thinks it’s sweet that you get so shy about things like this.

“I’m not judging you, y’know.” he tells you, looking to the side to see if you’re listening. You raise your head to look at him, the slight anxiety you feel slowly leaves your body the longer you look at him. “You’re a good friend to me. I’m happy Sukuna met you, otherwise I wouldn’t know you.”

“Yuuji…” you respond, you can’t stop yourself from smiling as you hear his sweet words. It makes him laugh, though. He’s happy he managed to break you out of your nervous sulk. “I wonder sometimes… if I’m crazy.”

“You are.” he tells you. You lightly slap his arm, “Hey, I’m driving!” he laughs. “You have some kind of arrangement with my brother, right? That doesn’t matter. You love him, don’t you? I know he loves you too. He’s told me enough, and I can see it in his eyes. You’re crazy, but he is too.”

An arrangement.

You’re happy it’s a secret, even to Yuuji. If anyone from your past life knew what you agreed to with Sukuna, they’d be ashamed. You figure anyone would be, really. But you don’t care. Yuuji is right.

Sukuna is crazy.

But so are you.

“Thanks, Yuuji.” you smile, weakly. “You’re a good friend to me, too.”

Sukuna is possessive, he’s greedy.

But what Sukuna doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You model a few lingerie sets to his little brother. And Yuuji, of course, is a perfect gentleman about it. His eyes rake over your body, though you can detect a lack of lust in him. There’s another woman on his mind that you know to be the reason. He’s a lovesick puppy, and you are off limits. He isn’t stupid, but he’s happy to help you shop.

Sukuna should be the one here with you now, anyway. He should be the one watching you try on panties and bras and pretty baby dolls. And yet, he’s sent you away to give himself some peace while he works on whatever the hell it is he does all day. Threatening and being a general bastard to the city at large.

If he were here, you know you’d be getting fucked within an inch of your life in every pretty ensemble you try on.

“Yuuji, what is your brother doing today?” you ask him, pouting a little. It feels humiliating to have to ask. You should know where your boyfriend is and who he’s with. Even Yuuji looks taken aback. Does Sukuna often keep you in the dark? It’s not like what he does for a living is some big secret.

“… There’s a huge territorial dispute right now…” he starts, looking at the store clerks and urging them to walk away if they know what’s good for them. They do, giving you two the space to talk. “He and the other higher ups are having a follow up meeting to decide what to do.”

You huff and start to undress as you head back into the changing room.

“Uraume?” you wonder, already knowing the answer. “Is she there?”

“Well, she’s Sukuna’s right hand. After me, obviously.” he tells you, and it only earns another huff of annoyance from you.

You know what Sukuna will want is for you to pick a pretty lingerie set to wear under your clothes all day until he gets home. You’re not doing that, though, not now. Not when you know he’s with her. He’s lucky you’re even still buying any in the first place. Yuuji watches you as you tell the staff to ring you up, a look almost akin to sorrow lingering in his soft brown eyes.

“Nothing is going on between them, y’know.” he tries to assure you. All you can do is scoff. The notion of remaining silent dies as you begin to think about how many positions he’s probably fucking her in while you run around and play the role of the oblivious wife.

A wife without a ring, at that.

“No offence Yuuji, I’m not exactly going to take your word for it. He’s your brother.” you sigh. He grabs the shopping bags for you once you pay the extortionate price. Sukuna had told you to get a set, not several. But you think it’s the least you deserve after finding out he’s with Uraume instead of you. “I want some new jewellery, let’s go.”

You hold the door open for Yuuji before you walk side by side towards the nearest jewellery store. Sukuna’s feelings are the least of your concern, whether he’s frustrated with your purchases or not doesn’t matter to you. Not right now. You’re hellbent on giving his credit card a workout before you go home.

The air conditioning hits you as you enter. Yuuji finds a seat as you begin to browse, dumping your shopping bags by his feet. He keeps a watchful eye on you as you’re shown around at some pieces you might like. A necklace is calling your name, but new earrings would be nice, too. But with the way you’re feeling, you might just leave with everything that you take even the vaguest of interest in.

You hear Yuuji’s phone ring behind you, and it forces you to look at him expectantly. It’s embarrassing, really, how badly you’re hoping it’s Sukuna to ask for your location so he can be here with you. But his younger sibling shakes his head despondently, feeling sad that he’s letting you down.

“Shit, I have to go.” Yuuji tells you, and your brows furrow. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been left alone. What could be so important? He looks at you, eyes serious and almost desperate as he wills you to listen to him. “I won’t be long, please don’t leave. Sukuna will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“It’s fine, Yuu.” you nod, barely looking at him anymore as you admire the glimmering jewels in their glass display cases once more. “I’ll be here.”

He smiles, gratefully, and squeezes your shoulder. His speed is impressive, you’re surprised you haven’t been left with a dust cloud as he leaves your side and departs the store. You have no idea what’s happening, but it must be serious if Yuuji had to rush off like that.

The clerk assisting you can’t help but fawn over how gorgeous you look as he allows you to try on a diamond necklace that caught your eye. It’s simple, something you’d wear every day. It’s glamorous but not overstated.

“There are matching earrings, if you’re interested.” the clerk tells you, and you nod. “And there’s—”

“If it matches, I’ll take it all.” you smile. The clerk nods and takes the necklace from you. You watch for a few minutes as he wanders around and collects everything you’ve asked for, but you soon get bored and begin browsing again.

You raise your head as you see two men with black hair enter. You unintentionally stare, but soon avert your gaze when another necklace catches your eyes. You hear the men discuss something about a sister, and you deduce they are likely here to purchase gifts. You feel your blood run cold as they become silent, and you feel them glaring at you.

You’ve gotten a sense of when people are sizing you up, now. Even if it’s something as tedious as being leered at. Being with Sukuna has taught you to sense danger, however small.

“I’d like this necklace as well, please.” you speak, hoping your confidence and signalling of the staff will get them to stop staring at you. The clerk nods and sends another member of staff to your side to aid you.

You look in the direction of the men. Truthfully, you aren’t sure if you had tried to warn them that you were onto them with a look their way. It seems like you’re more interested in scoping out a potential threat.

“It’ll suit you.” the younger one says. “Maybe we should get something like that for Tsumiki?”

The older man is silent.

Your skin tightens together, breaking out in goosebumps as his looming presence gets closer and closer to you. You clear your throat, hoping that it will be enough to tell him that you know he’s there and you don’t want him to be. It does little to dissuade him, though.

He stares at you, urging you to return it. There’s an uncomfortable yet palpable silence between the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. His face is sculpted, yet damaged. And still, you find him beautiful. A scar stabs betwixt his lips, though it’s aged and healed.

It’s a warning, in itself, that you shouldn’t trust him.

But his gaze is serious and endearing all in one. His eyes are beautiful, just like the man he’s with. There’s no doubt, now, that they’re related. They’re like a copy of one another. Father and son, you suspect. Though they remind you of Sukuna and Yuuji. The man in front of your appears to be the same age as your lover, maybe a little older. Yuuji is around the same age at the young man accompanying him.

You find yourself lost in his eyes, an odd compulsion to figure out this man and his life story. Who is he and what could he want with you? Your guard has been lowered, despite it being unwise. You should be more alert, if anything.

But those eyes are—

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” he tells you, breaking his eyes away from you to look at the clerk behind you. He curls his finger, a simple instruction that you seem to miss until you see him holding the necklace in his hand. “May I?” he asks, acting before you even answer.

You turn around and make sure your hair isn’t in the way so he can put it on you. This isn’t right, you know it isn’t. You aren’t sure why you’re allowing him to do this. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end when you realise.

He fastens the clasp behind your neck, and casually allows his hand to fall into the small of your back as he guides you to a nearby mirror.

“Suits you.” he tells you, tucking hair behind your ear so he can examine it further. You don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your cleavage, though, and you clear your throat again. It prompts him to slip back into his cool demeanour. “My daughter is around your age. Think she’d like it?”

“I don’t know your daughter. And I don’t know you.” you remind him, earning a soft chuckle from him. You watch him summon the man he brought with him, and now you’re sure he’s his son. After hearing him mention his sister, you manage to put the pieces together.

“I want two of these.” he announces, making sure everyone can hear. You aren’t sure if he’s instructing his son or the clerk beside you. Either way, he hands his credit card to the man he’s with in a similar way Sukuna does to you.

It’s almost… dismissive.

“Two?” you say, curiously.

“I’m buying yours.” he tells you. He shushes you when you go to protest. “You’re brave, hah? Big mouth, attitude, ‘n your pretty too. I like it.”

“I’m spoken for. And expensive things won’t—”

“I know.” he interrupts you, putting his hands in his pockets. He looks over to his son as he pays for the jewellery. You’re nervous, though it’s not entirely because of him. The thought of explaining this to Sukuna sends chills down your spine. “Girls like you are always spoken for. And he looks after you, yeah? Buys you nice things ‘n all that. Figures.”

“… Y-You didn’t tell me your name…” you say, meekly. It’s pathetic and wimpy, though that’s how you feel beneath his divine gaze. He smirks at the sound of your voice, maybe it’s the submission.

“Toji.” he replies, simply. His son approaches him with a single shopping bag, it’s black and sleek with the store logo on the side. It makes you excited and impatient to receive your own purchases. And after this, you have no desire to shop anymore. You want to get home where you know you’re safe. “We ought’a get goin’, Megs.” Toji tells his son, who nods in agreement.

Just as they’re about to leave, Yuuji returns.

He can’t say anything, not right away. If you were looking at him, though, you’d be able to see how much he wants to burst. There’s a vein bulging in his forehead as he looks between the men.

But your eyes are solely on Toji.

His hands remain firmly in his pockets as he walks away and towards the exit. And then he turns around again, fully, facing you head in to gift you with his parting words.

“Give Sukuna my regards, won’t you, sweetheart?” he smirks, leaving the store with his son in tow.

“Fushiguro!” Yuuji yells, though they pay him no mind. He faces you, now, intent on finding out what the hell is going on. “What was that all about? Are you stupid? Seriously stupid? I told you not to talk to anyone!”

“You didn’t, you told me not to leave.” you remind him, and he grunts. “Who were they, Yuuji? I’ve never seen either of them before.” you tell him. He just shakes his head and decides to ignore you. He’s furious, though you can’t figure out why.

Have you really done something so bad?

The fact that Toji seems to know who Sukuna is certainly doesn’t bode well. They’re from rival gangs, clearly. His and his son’s tattoos aren’t like Sukuna’s. His are brazen, confident. He was cocky enough to get them on his face, too. But the Fushiguro’s, as Yuuji had named them, must hide their markings beneath their shirts like most yakuza men tend to.

“Let’s go.” Yuuji speaks, anger lingering in his quiet words as he leads you out of the store and back to his car. “I’ll have to tell Sukuna about this…” he explains, making sure all of your shopping is secure safely in the trunk of his car. You get into the passenger seat and shrug, it makes no difference to you if he tells his brother about this.

You don’t even know what he’s telling him.

It gets later and later into the evening, with no signs of Sukuna returning any time soon.

And you’re ready for him.

You’re fully dressed, wearing the very same clothes you’d worn to go shopping hours earlier. But you had stripped briefly when you got to your room. The lingerie options were almost infinite as you peaked in each and every shopping bag you brought home from the boutique.

He’ll like the pink one most, you suspected.

So, you put it on.

“Where’s Sukuna?” your one and only true friend in this cutthroat world asks through the speaker of your phone. It snaps you from your daze as you recall how the pink lingerie fit your body like a God damn glove while you checked yourself out in the mirror. “You’re doing housewife shit while he’s out having fun?” Nobara continues, and it makes you scoff. There’s laughter in it, but your annoyance towards your lover is evident.

“He’s with Uraume.” you say, calmly, as you continue washing the mountains of dishes in the sink. You aren’t normally one to do chores, but you thought it would distract you from your worries. Even if only for a moment.

“Oh I hate her.”

“Me too.” you agree. Something tells you Nobara doesn’t feel as strongly as she’s making out, she’s just showing support. You appreciate it all the same, though. “There’s something going on… I know there is.”

“No way. You don’t know, you just think you do. But even I can see how much he worships you. He’d never cheat!” she says confidently, and you wish you could believe her. It’s not like you’d leave him, even if he was.

He’s conditioned you to need him, after all. How can you go back to your old apartment when it’s his, now? Your old, pathetically paying job won’t cut it, either. Sukuna has gotten you used to the finer things in life, things you don’t want to lose. Your friends, your family, it’s all gone and forgotten. All you have is him.

There’s no leaving him, now.

“… I don’t trust him, sometimes.” you confess, quietly. You aren’t even sure if she heard you over the sound of the gushing tap. “I don’t trust—”

The sound of a lock turning in the door stops you from speaking anymore. You look over your shoulder, and you finally see him. He doesn’t say a word as he comes in. He gives you a curt nod as he hangs up his jacket.

“Uh, Nobara, how’s your day been?” you ask, loudly, hoping she’ll get the hint and change the subject.

You tense up a little as you feel Sukuna’s presence looming closer and closer. You put down a plate as you feel him behind you. His body traps yours between his and the sink. You hold your eyes closed lightly as you feel him. Really feel him. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get over his domineering size.

Nobara begins to prattle on about nothing in particular, and relief flows through you. You manage to stifle a heavy breath as Sukuna begins to kiss your neck; though you almost falter as he takes your earlobe softly between his teeth.

“Sukuna, ‘m on the phone.” you angle your head to whisper, but he just silences you with a kiss instead. And instinctively, you’re smiling again. You’re so simple, maybe even stupid. It’s always so easy for him to placate you, even without knowing you’re upset with him.

“Don’t care,” he growls into your mouth, kissing you again. “You agreed, did you not?” he asks, feeling you up over your clothes. Your head droops back onto his shoulder as you feel him caress your tits through the fabric of your dress. His free hand roams between your legs, pushing the black material covering your thighs between them and dampening it with your slick.

“Mmpf,” you hum, lightly, biting your lip. You can’t help but wriggle and squirm beneath his touch. As much as you’d prefer to stop so you can wrap up what you’re doing first, you did agree to this when you started dating him.

“Anyway, I still don’t think Sukuna would fuck Uraume.” Nobara speaks, and you both freeze for a moment.

As she lists her reasons, in gratuitous detail, Sukuna’s hands move across your body. They’re slow, but with purpose. Your dress settles back into place once he moves his left hand away from your core. He wraps his arm around your midsection, tightly, giving you no chance to flee. His right hand moves a little quicker, fingers brush along your collarbone until he finds your neck. He somehow manages to choke you, slightly, while holding your jaw with his thumb and index finger.

And he makes you look at him.

He doesn’t speak, the sound of Nobara discussing everything you’ve told her about him and Uraume is the only sound either of you hear. His red eyes terrify you the longer it goes on. The longer he goes without speaking a word.

“’Kuna—”

“You’re jealous of Uraume?” he says, loud enough for Nobara to hear. She’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so. And then your heart plummets when you hear the beep that signifies the call has ended. “Still?”

“What do you— Sukuna!” you yell, feeling him pull your dress down your body. You try to scold him. You try to focus on finishing the dishes so you don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how desperately you crave him. But it’s all in vain as he spanks you upon seeing the pretty pink set hugging your body.

“Good girl.” he tells you, spanking you again.

The chore of washing cups and plates is soon abandoned as he yanks your hair by the roots. Your back arches gloriously, and he can’t help but slap your ass repeatedly until it stings. He wants to hurt you, just because he loves you.

He’s insulted that you think so little of him.

“What happened to you, princess?” he asks, spanking you again. “You never used to be so insecure. That’s what I liked about you.”

Liked?

“Don’t— c-care—”

“Oh?” he interrupts, “You really want to be a brat for me right now? I’m not in the mood, but you can test me if you’re feeling brave.” he warns you, and you manage to shake your head in defiance.

“Sukuna, I just— I don’t like her.” you tell him, you see an eyebrow raise out of the corner of your eye. It’s a curious look you can’t quite place. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to say something so honest, or maybe he just can’t put his finger on why you feel this way about her. “She has feelings for you… it’s so obvious.”

“And?” he speaks, his hand that had been around your throat moves to the bend of your knee. He effortlessly raises your leg so that it rests on the marble countertop. His breathing is heavy and stained with alcohol as it fans across your shoulder.

Your breath hitches as he hooks his finger into the seat of your panties, moving the pink material into the crease of your thigh. You shiver just slightly as the cool air of the air-conditioned room hits your folds, and he growls as he holds you tighter.

With one hand, he unbuckles his belt and manages to free his length from his trousers. You gasp as you feel him press his heavy tip between your folds, the tacky wet sound reverberates through the room. He isn’t targeting anywhere specific, but he snarls each time you mewl when he catches against your entrance.

“Unff— fu-uck!” you keen as he finally pushes into you.

“This,” he starts, slowly sinking inside of your welcoming slot. Your eyes roll over white with each agonising delve into your walls and towards your sweet spot. He spanks you once more, demanding your concentration as he tries to drill his words into your before he starts drilling his cock into you. “It’s all yours, y’hear me, princess?” he explains as he carefully rocks his hips, his chest swells with pride as he repeatedly nudges against your g-spot.

“S-Sukuna,” you pant. “Daddy, I love you.” you tell him, tears spill down your cheeks as you pathetically confess. He knows, of course he knows. But his ego will never tire of hearing those four precious words from the lips of his favourite girl.

“Yeah? Y’love daddy?” he asks, faux sympathy in his voice as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Hurts my feelings when you don’t trust me.” he lies.

“’m sorry,” you sob, “I trust you, daddy, ‘m sorry!” you continue, and you melt into his touch when you feel him softly kiss your cheek again and again as his thrusts get faster and faster and faster.

He’s so deep you can feel him in your throat. Your mind is churning, thoughts become liquid the harder and deeper he pounds into you. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he continues, and he shoves his fingers into your mouth to silence your cries.

You suck and lick and lave over them as if your life depended on it.

He forces your mouth open wide, strings of drool dribble from your lips and tongue as he repeatedly fingers dangerously close to your throat. He laughs maniacally when he flies to close to the sun, triggering your gag reflex.

“Oh, baby, got real tight for daddy like that.” he tells you. Your hands search for something, anything to grasp as he ruins you from the inside. “So fuckin’ tight for me, princess. Wanna cum?”

“Yes, yes please.” is what you’re hoping to say despite his fingers still invading your orifice. “Please daddy, n-need it.”

“Mmm, good fucking girl.” he praises you. “So needy, hah? I’ll be good to you this once. So cum.”

You brace yourself, twisting your torso so that you’re facing him. His fingers remain in your mouth, but your fixation on them has dies a slow, painful death the longer this encounter carries on. His fingering slows, but the spit leaking from your mouth still pools out and covers whatever it squelches on top of.

“Go on, cum for daddy.” he orders.

And you do.

You cream his length as you lose control of your entire body and give it to him. You’re crying so hard but you don’t know why. He licks your cheeks, though, getting off on the taste of the salt and sorrow you’re gifting him with. You convulse as you reach the peak of your orgasm, and he makes sure to keep a careful hold of you.

“Hate you being fucking jealous.” he explains as he chases his own high, the deafening sounds of your genitals meeting again is so sloppy and lewd. If you weren’t so tired, you’re sure your face would flush with heat from the embarrassment of it all. “You’re mine. I only fuck you. I only cum in this perfect cunt. Are you listening? Or did daddy fuck you too fucking stupid?”

“D-Daddy,” you mumble, “love you…” you trail off, exhaustion consuming you as you bargain with yourself to rest your eyes for just a minute.

“Daddy’s slutty girl, yeah?” he grunts, and he’s surprised that you manage to nod in response. “Only shut that big fucking mouth of yours when you’re getting this cock.” he speaks, he hopes you’re listening but he’s not so sure.

With only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming buckets into you. You hum at the sensation, the warmth of being gifted with your daddy’s load is a soothing feeling that makes you feel completely claimed. You’re safe, secure, like this. He plugs his cum inside of you for a while as he refuses to move.

You don’t want to think about the fact that you aren’t ever really going to know the truth. You won’t know if he’s just telling you what you want to hear while he’s out doing exactly what you’re worried about. You won’t truly feel safe unless Uraume goes.

But you know that will never happen.

He pulls out of you, watching as your pussy pulses while he splits open your lips on his fingers. His softening cock jumps at the sight of his sperm gushing out of you and splattering against the cold kitchen tiles below. He angles your body, again, so that he can plant a searing, messy kiss on your lips from behind.

He wipes his dick against your ass, doing a poor job of it before he tucks himself back into his grey trousers. He moves the gusset of your panties back where it belongs to stop anymore cum from dripping out of you.

“I should… clean up…” you say, wistfully as you look at the remaining dishes in the sink and the dollop of sperm on the ground beneath you.

“Don’t worry about it.” he tells you, walking towards your bedroom to find your shopping bags. “Show daddy what else you got today.”

You take a deep breath and stumble a little on unstable legs. He looks behind himself, reaching out to take your hand to support you. He leads you to your room, a little surprised by the amount of new shopping bags spread out.

He lifts you up and places you down carefully on the bed. You bite your lip as he helps you out of your high heels while he’s down on one knee. He watches, attentively, as you throw your head back as he kisses each of your legs.

“I don’t recall telling you to buy jewellery.” he speaks, knowing he didn’t say it at all. You only giggle, which makes his smile grow wider. He rests his body on his knuckles on either side of your thighs, his nose almost touching yours as he examines you. “That one is new, isn’t it?” he asks, reaching up to hold the pendant against his palm. You nod, and he hums.

He takes his time admiring everything as he looks through each and every bag. You’re silent as he searches, not sure what he’s actually looking to find. Sukuna seems pleased with the multitudes of lingerie you’ve returned home with, often looking between the material and yourself as he envisions it on your body.

Though soon enough, he’s looking through the jewellery. He’s full of flattery, for some reason. You can’t help wondering if it’s because of your very obvious insecurity.

Your heart sinks, however, when he picks up the receipt.

“W— uh, what are you doing?” you ask, cursing yourself for not playing it cool in the least.

He’s silent as he looks over each item and price. His eyes drift briefly to look at you before he’s fixated on the receipt again. “I’m checking how much having a bratty princess for a wife has cost me today.” he tells you, his voice almost monotone as he speaks. He picks up each piece of jewellery as he mentally checks it off of the list in his hand. And then his eyes zero in on you once more. Or specifically, the necklace you’re wearing. “Did you steal that?” he asks.

You shake your head.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt from being with Sukuna, it will never serve you to lie. He knows more than you can possibly imagine. And what he doesn’t know, he figures out quickly.

“… I’m going to fucking kill him.” he speaks through gritted teeth, crumpling up the receipt in his hand. You have no idea who he’s talking about. He stands up, holding the necklace around your neck in a clenched fist. “Tell me, princess. Do you love this necklace? Or did you pick it impulsively?”

“Both,” you nod. “I was only looking at it because— b-but I love it, now.”

He lets go of the pendant, now warm against your skin after being in the palm of your lover despite it being brief. He smooths his hand over your hair and then strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“A lovely gift from a man trying to muscle in on my territory.”

You knew Toji must be yakuza, too. But you had no idea he was such a direct rival of Sukuna’s. It’s unsurprising, though. Maybe they’d been tailing you and Yuuji today. You’d assumed it was a coincidence that they wound up in the same store as you, but you’re no stranger to being naïve.

Sukuna’s territory…

Could he also be referring to you?

“Territorial disputes are standard practice in our line of work, Sukuna.” Uraume starts, trying her best to calm your boyfriend down as he seethes in yet another meeting. “Although she has certainly complicated things.” she speaks, looking at you as her tone becomes more calculated and vicious.

Of course to anyone else, it sounds like she’s just making a point.

But you know better.

“I didn’t complicate anything, thank you, Uraume. I went shopping as I was instructed to do and he just showed up.” you try to defend yourself maturely despite wanting to rip her hair from her scalp.

“No, this isn’t your fault.” Sukuna reassures you. “You shouldn’t have fucking left her you idiot!” he bellows, his voice booming through the room until it reaches his brothers ears. His words seem to echo the longer Yuuji remains silent. He doesn’t even get the chance to talk as Sukuna demands he be quiet. “More and more of them are doing shady shit in areas that I own. Making profit that should be mine. How do we—”

“Yuuji, you’re friendly with his son, right?” you ask. And he shrugs, passively. You’re sure there’s a story there. Perhaps they went to school together given that they’re the same age, but you don’t want to press it and risk him getting in deeper trouble with his sibling. “Do you have a phone number or anything for him?”

“Uh…” Yuuji pats down his body as he looks through his phone. Sukuna watches, everyone watches as he scrolls through his contacts. And finally, he nods.

“Call it.” Uraume orders, Sukuna looks at her and then nods at his brother in agreement.

The tension in the air can be cut with a knife as each ring passes. You feel sick to your stomach the longer it goes on.

Until finally—

“I was wondering when you’d call.” the younger Fushiguro answers, Yuuji places the phone down on the table and puts it on speaker. “My old man has an offer for your brother.”

“Megumi, Sukuna isn’t exactly the negotiating type.” Yuuji explains. “He wants you and your dad dead, to be honest. That shit you pulled at the jewellery store—”

“Is he listening?” Megumi asks. Yuuji looks up to his brother for permission to confirm or deny his presence. The silence lasts a beat too long, and Megumi figures it out for himself. “I’m with Toji, now.” there is a shuffling sound on the other end as he hands his phone over to his father. A large sigh rattles through the speaker, and then he finally speaks.

“Sukuna.” he starts.

“My brother is right, Zen’in, I don’t negotiate.” Sukuna speaks, announcing his presence to them finally. “There is no benefit to me letting you stake your claim on my territory. We’ve killed a few of your men already for your insolence and disrespect. You’ve no idea the lengths I will go to so that you will understand this threat isn’t empty. We won’t just be killing the small fry next time.”

He looks at Uraume, listening carefully as she warns him not to resort to threats of violence so soon. You look between them both, trying to gauge how he’ll respond. He only sighs, agreeing with her, before asking what the negotiation would entail.

“I want to fuck that little girlfriend of yours.” Toji says.

The room falls silent. Sukuna stares daggers at you for a few minutes as if it’s your fault he said something so outrageous. You look around uncomfortably, seeing everyone’s eyes have fallen on you.

You feel dirty.

You feel like a mere bargaining chip, an object for them to make a decision over.

“Everybody out.” Sukuna says, noticing your distress as you feel compelled to hang your head in shame. “NOW.”

Everyone scurries from the room, the only people that remain are yourself, Sukuna, his brother and Uraume. Your lover slams his palm, hard against the table before yelling down the phone at Toji.

“Are you FUCKING joking?” Sukuna shouts, Uraume tries to calm him down but it does little good. “In what world do you think I’d agree to something so stupid?”

You hear Toji chuckle, like he’s considering how to use his words and what he should say. He knows exactly what he wants to tell him in response, but he’s deciding if he wants to rile Sukuna up further or get straight to the point.

“I’ve heard rumours that you use her like a toy.” he starts, a smirk curls on his lip and his scar pulls along with it. You and Sukuna look at each other, wondering who could have found out about your lewd secret. “I’m not… unreasonable. If you comply, I’m willing to come to a binding agreement that we will keep clear of your turf.”

“… Hang up the phone.” Sukuna orders, and Yuuji immediately presses the big red button. Sukuna looks at you, eager to speak. And by his expression, whatever he wants to say seems fuelled by rage. But by a stroke of luck, Uraume intervenes.

“I think you should do it.” she starts. Sukuna directs his angry glare towards her, while you look at her in surprise. “We’ve all heard the rumours, it’s not a secret, Sir. I believe it’s called ‘free use’ yes?”

“Why is that relevant?” you ask.

“Well, you’re used to being used, no? Why is this any different. It would be for Sukuna, for all of us. I’m sure you’d be able to open your legs for a few minutes for the sake of peace.” she speaks, calmly, crossing one leg over the other as she leans back in her seat. You scoff, standing up to argue, but Sukuna splays out his hand and warns you to keep in line. “Sukuna, it’s just sex. You won’t have to pay them off, you won’t have to share your territory that we— that you have worked so hard for. A simple trade.”

He sighs as he looks between you both.

“It’s not that straightforward, at all.” Sukuna tells her. You hope he’ll elaborate but feel a little deflated when he opts to keep quiet instead. You feel comfortable with your so-called arrangement because you’re in love.

At least, that’s what you thought.

“A shame. You continue to be a useless disappointment in this organization.” she tells you. “If it were me, I’d do it.”

“Well, Uraume. It isn’t you. You know why?” you spit back, shoving by Sukuna with the intention of leaving when you’ve said your piece. “Because you are his subordinate. I am his wife.” and with that, you leave.

Uraume is unfazed, however, which would infuriate you more if you were around to see it. Instead you’re leaving with your handbag in tow. You’re stopped, however, when you reach the exit. Sukuna’s men are holding you hostage on his orders. He hasn’t followed you to see if you’re okay. He’s still talking to Yuuji and Uraume as you pace around an empty meeting room.

You’ve always hated this building. Every time you come for a meeting here you’re nauseated by an overwhelming mechanical smell. It’s the office supplies, you assume. The copy machines and printers whir all day and night, the perfect operation taking place to disguise Sukuna’s general misdeeds.

Around twenty minutes later, you’re no longer alone.

Sukuna enters the room and shuts the door behind himself. Your eyes water as you instantly read his expression. You know there’s another way, but he’s obviously made his decision. Uraume’s influence played a part, you don’t doubt.

“I don’t want to. I love you…” you cry. “She’s trying to—”

“Enough.” he silences you, curling his finger. A simple instruction for you to follow him. “I haven’t decided yet, come along.”

He brings you back to the meeting room where you were sitting earlier. He commands Uraume and Yuuji to leave, and they do, Yuuji leaves his phone behind so Sukuna can call Megumi’s phone again.

“I don’t want to share you.” he confesses, pulling you into his lap as he spins the phone in his hand. Each thud against the desk makes your anxiety spike. “Uraume is right, though. It’s a tempting offer for the sake of a few measly minutes.”

“I don’t want to fuck him, Sukuna.” you pout. “I can’t believe you’re even considering it! What if he’s lying and will keep asking to fuck me? I don’t want everyone to find out about it and think I’m some whore. Do you—” you stop, a large knot gets stuck in your throat as you try to remain composed. You feel sick to your stomach, and you hate that you even have to ask. “Do you even love me anymore… Sukuna…” you ask, lower lip trembling as you speak.

“I do, of course I still love you.” he tries to assure you, but it feels half-hearted at best. “I’d prefer you to make a decision; but I want it to be the right one. And remember, you agreed to let me use you. And I will use you for whatever purpose I desire, if that means letting other men use your cunt for the sake of peace… then…”

“’Kuna…”

“I’m talking now.” he stops you, grabbing your cheeks in his hand and squeezing until your lips pucker. “You better spread those pretty legs nice ‘n wide for daddy, I want you to make me proud.”

He lets go, slowly, and uses a single finger to call Megumi back.

It rings.

And it rings.

And it rings—

“You mull it over?” Toji answers, his cockiness radiating through the phone. “Who am I speaking to? Sukuna?”

“I’m here.” he answers, he bounces his thigh, a silent instruction for you to announce yourself. And, for him, you do. “We’ve thought about it.”

“And?” Toji speaks.

Sukuna looks up at you, expecting you to do the honours of answering. His face is stoic and it makes your heart sink. He really wants you to agree to this. This is the first time since you’ve been with him that’s he’s made you feel like the object you agreed to be, for him. You thought it was out of love. Maybe even respect.

You were a fool to think that, you see that now.

You take a deep breath, and your whole body shakes. Even the little breaths you take to steel yourself warble and you try and gain the confidence to tell Toji that you agree.

Sukuna agrees, you don’t.

“We’re not interested.” you tell him. Sukuna glares at you, and you swear you see flames licking through his pupils. You try to stand up, but you’re trapped. He holds you, tight, and you worry about what you’ve let yourself in for. “Sukuna, get off.” you try to warn him off quietly, but it only increases his grip.

He mutes the call, and fingers sink harshly into the fat of your hips as he lifts you up. You land on the large meeting table with a thud as he towers above you with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“You dare disobey me?” he starts. You flinch as he raises his hand, the rings on his fingers twinkle under the fluorescent lights in the room. He doesn’t hit you, and you can’t tell if that’s what he was considering. He’s never struck you before. But, thinking about it, you’ve never defied him before. He balls his hand into a fist, a singular finger breaking free as he points in your face. “I don’t think you understood me before. Did you get confused?” he asks, voice dripping with condescension as his eyes alternate between your shimmering eyes and tremoring lip.

You ignore him, you just stare at him as you wait for him to finish.

“Understand me now. You are mine. Your life, your clothes, the bed you sleep in? Mine. Your body is mine. Your cunt is barely yours, I own her.”

“You said the decision was mine to—”

“I said I want you to make the decision I’m telling you to make. I’m not giving you a choice, I was giving you the power to make the decision yourself. But I see now, you’re too dumb to make the right call without daddy’s help.”

You sniff, picking up the phone to your side and unmuting the call. You’re surprised Toji is still on the other end, perhaps he knew that you’d gone against orders and was waiting to hear your reconsideration. He doesn’t say a word, nor does Sukuna, as you continue to sniffle and gather your bearings.

“T-Toji?” you whimper, and you hear an amused breath on the other end.

“Yes, darlin’, I’m here.” he speaks. His voice is somewhat soothing given the circumstances. Your lovers fiery stare remains on you. He and your very own body are imploring you to make the decision he’s expecting of you. But your heart, your mind, tell you otherwise. If Sukuna kills you, so be it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to sleep with you, I love Sukuna too m-much.” you whimper, tears cascade down your face as you look at him. Even after this, after how he’s spoken to you and what he’s trying to make you do, you can’t help but love him. Even his face softens as he hears your plea. Your utter devotion to him makes his heart skip a beat.

There may even be a slither of remorse behind his eyes.

“You’re a real good girl, aren’tcha? So loyal… It’s hard to find girls like you.” Toji responds, and it snaps Sukuna out of his daze. The looming anger returns as he realises you’ve ignored direct orders twice now. “Tell ya what… Sukuna, you still there?”

“… I’m here.” he responds, slouching down in the seat he’d been sitting in previously. It’s odd, looking down at him like this. He looks deflated, like he doesn’t know how to handle you. Maybe he does still love you, after all. He doesn’t want to hurt you or kill you, he’s wrestling with it. If you were like his subordinates you’d be dead already.

He doesn’t know what to do with you.

“Princess, would you feel better if Sukuna was there?” he asks. You both look at each other, unsure of what he’s getting at. The idea infuriates Sukuna. Why on earth would he want to sit like some cuck while one of his enemies rails his girlfriend? “I don’t need you to myself, I just want to fuck you.”

“Um… oh.” you speak, the penny finally dropping. “I like that better.” you confess.

“Mm, I’ll bet.” Toji smirks. “Alright, I’ll make arrangements.”

“Go find Yuuji and go home.” Sukuna whispers as Toji continues to speak. He barely looks at you as you slide off the desk. So you don’t even bother saying goodbye. You’re still so fucking angry at him for all of this. But, really, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t pulling the strings here.

Not really.

You find Yuuji outside vaping, and he chokes when he sees you. He desperately attempts to swat the plume of smoke away, but it’s too late. You take the device from his hand and drop it on the ground.

“Enough.” you tell him, crushing it beneath the chunky platform and heel of your boot while looking him dead in the eye. “Stop buying them.”

“Sorry.” he chuckles. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “The long way… if you don’t mind.”

He nods, understandingly.

Maybe you chose the wrong Itadori to fall in love with.

You hadn’t realised how close Toji’s apartment is to yours and Sukuna’s. You never even knew he existed until a few days ago. And yet, now, you’re in the elevator on your way up to the penthouse suite.

The preparation into this night, which you’re sure will amount to a few grunts and thrusts from each of them before they’re panting and bored, has been substantial.

Sukuna agreed to let Toji cover the cost of everything, which surprised you. Sukuna is a proud man, he’s proud of himself and the money he makes. And he’s especially proud of his possessions.

Most of all, you.

You’ve been accompanied by Yuuji and Megumi for the last week everywhere you go. And they’ve bickered about everything.

As you were sitting in the hair salon earlier, Yuuji insisted upon how Sukuna would like your hair to look, whilst Megumi argued about what Toji would prefer.

They argued when they took you clothes shopping about what kind of outfit you should wear. They argued about what colour lingerie you should wear. Hell, they even argued about what perfume would be best.

You didn’t have the energy to intervene, however, not when it feels like your world is crumbling around you. You’ve lost Sukuna, you think. You aren’t sure how or when it happened, but you don’t see love in his eyes anymore. And it’s a fool’s gambit to try and force that love back.

Now, you’re just a toy he’s grown tired of.

The elevator stops with a ding as you reach the top. Your stomach is doing somersaults, and you’re a little taken aback as Sukuna takes your hand in his. The reassuring squeeze he offers calms you immensely as he leads you out directly into the apartment.

“Welcome.” Megumi greets you both. He gestures to a bottle champagne and three pre-poured flutes filled with the gorgeous, bubbly liquid. You don’t notice until you get closer that there’s even strawberries drowning in the glasses. “Make yourselves at home, he won’t be long.” Megumi speaks, gesturing to the modern staircase that leads upstairs.

And with that, he leaves. He enters the elevator and waves as the doors shut, taking him all of the way to the ground floor. You can’t help but wonder where he’s going. Maybe, despite all of the bickering, he and Yuuji are planning to go out and have fun together while their bosses are occupied.

You feel sick.

Everyone’s going to find out about this. Everyone is going to have you down as a slut who trades her body for the sake of gang disputes. The naïve nature within you is telling you that this is a one time thing. That you made the choice and you only made it because there is something so alluring about Toji.

But, really, after this… you fear that you may be better off dead.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Toji speaks as he announces himself, slowly descending the stairs as he drinks you in. His shirt is open, revealing his glorious body beneath. Each move he makes is teasing, only subtly showing off his musculature that glistens beneath. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” he tells you.

His hand settles on your hip as he kisses your cheek. It’s gentle, yet forceful, and it lasts a beat longer than you had expected. The feeling of his lips is cemented against your face, and it takes every ounce of willpower that you have to not hold your cheek longingly.

“Glad you could make it, both of you.” Toji expresses, looking at Sukuna briefly before focusing on you again. He can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop ogling your perfect body in the skintight, chocolate coloured dress you’re wearing. The way your breasts slightly spill over the bust, the way the plunge shows the perfect amount of cleavage, the way a huge slit down the side perfectly showcases one of your legs and teases the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

He picks up two glasses, handing them to you and Sukuna, before grabbing his own.

“To peace.” he smirks. Sukuna chuckles and repeats his sentiment, though you’re silent. You aren’t exactly proud of yourself for doing this for the sake of peace.

But at the very least, you might have a little fun. You take a small sip, while Sukuna and Toji’s glasses are bare. Toji tops them up, and they chat as if they’re old friends.

“I’m sure you didn’t invite us over just to make nice, Zen’in.” Sukuna comments, and Toji laughs but nods. Sukuna sets down his champagne flute, tilting your head up by your chin with two dominant fingers. “She won’t object to anything. Isn’t that right, princess?” he asks, and you nod.

Toji finishes his drink again, circling around you both to stand behind you. Sukuna sits down, already pouring his third drink of the evening as he watches how you choose to behave. You’re not going to defy again, though. Not when you agreed of your own accord.

Your gaze narrows as your eyelids become heavy from Toji’s presence behind you. He softly gropes and manhandles every inch of your body. And even the areas you wouldn’t normally consider sensitive have you shuddering under his touch.

He attacks your exposed thigh, dragging the back of his nails upwards towards your pussy as his teeth lightly graze your pulse point. You emit a vociferous moan as his fingers splay outward, his digits barely breaching the material of your dress and yet somehow stimulating your immediately drenched cunt.

“I think she likes me.” he sighs against your skin, maintaining complete eye contact with Sukuna as he feels you up. “This dress was made for you, baby.” he tells you, kissing softly behind your ear.

“Look,” Sukuna starts, standing up as he looms above you. He pulls down the bust, revealing the black mesh bra underneath. Your nipples are barely covered, perfectly visible to all eyes in the room. He cups your breasts, and his thumbs repeatedly swipe over the raised buds. “They’re so hard, princess. Is this exciting you?” he asks.

You nod, dumbly. He captures your lips in a deep kiss and you moan into it. Toji reaches forwards over your shoulder, grabbing a handful of your tit as he squeezes the flesh and lightly flicks the nipple. His other hand settles in the curve of your hip, and you yelp slightly into Sukuna’s mouth as he pulls you backwards against his body.

“Feel how hard you’re makin’ me already, darlin’?” he asks, sharp canines nipping lightly against your bare neck as he pants shallowly against your skin. “Haven’t even touched your pussy yet and I’m aching. Haven’t even seen your fuckin’ panties.”

“Strip her, go on.” Sukuna orders. He backs away as he allows Toji to move you wherever he desires.

You gasp as you feel him move you with ease until your bent over the countertop, your face turns to the side to face Sukuna and the bucket of champagne. You’re distracted by the water droplets slowly traversing down until you hear Toji gnarl against the nape of your neck.

You can’t help but whimper when you feel him repeatedly kiss your bare skin until he reaches the zip of your dress. Sukuna stares into your eyes. Watery, eager eyes that are still focused on him without him even touching you. The red irises that own you and your every move, Toji was right, you are a good loyal girl.

Toji takes the zip between his teeth and pulls downward until the dress shucks from your body, it starts to pool at your feet, but still clings to your waist. Sukuna helps yank it downwards, while Toji lands a harsh strike against your supple rear. He whistles at the sight of your flesh jiggling, repeating the action on the opposite cheek just to see it again.

“Do you know how to use that mouth, princess?” Toji asks, and you nod.

“She knows how to talk shit with it.” Sukuna informs him, and Toji smirks. “But she gives good head, too. Get on your knees.” Sukuna tells you.

And you drop like a stone in front of Toji, you’re sure your knees will be red raw from the uncomfortable landing. You watch Toji with complete focus as he unbuckles his belt. Your eyes stay on his, getting the perfect view of his defined abs and large pecs as you stare up at him. The metal of his belt echoes through the room as he throws it in Sukuna’s direction.

You’re awestruck when Toji’s length is revealed. He’s beautiful. You don’t even realise you’re drooling until the bubbly liquid drips down and splats against your hand. He’s huge. Sukuna is too, but Toji might have him slightly bested. His cock curves upwards, and you can’t help squirm as you think about it hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

His pubic hair is trimmed perfectly. You wonder if he usually keeps himself groomed or if he only did it for this occasion. His tip is gorgeous. A slightly more blush pink in comparison to the rest of his cock. And it’s oozing. It’s shimmering with pre, the tip is completely covered and some of his length below is coated too.

“I’m gonna kill you if you keep staring at his cock like that, princess.” Sukuna warns you. You look at him, worry stabbing through your eyes before Toji grabs your jaw and forces you to focus on him again. He bends down, his face dangerously close to yours.

“He might kill you later, but I’m gonna kill you now if you don’t hurry and put that pretty mouth to work.” he snarls. You nod, widening your mouth to accommodate his girth. He groans, passionately, as his tip hits against your restrictive throat. “Fuuuuuck, good girl.”

You hold his hips as you attempt to take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your jaw already hurts, you feel like you might need the ability to unhinge it like a snake just to take him. It’s a similar experience with Sukuna, though he doesn’t make you suck him off often. He prefers your cunt, he doesn’t like to waste time on foreplay normally.

Only if he’s particularly stressed.

“You’re right, she’s a good little cocksucker.” he tells Sukuna as he praises you. He lightly combs his fingers through your hair with one hand before he forcefully shoves you to take his full length. And you cry out, you sob, and he slightly pulls out before shoving back in. “Are you gonna sit and watch me face fuck your toy?” Toji asks, earning a scoff from Sukuna.

He bends down, picking up the belt Toji discarded as he approaches. “Watch.” he orders. You gasp as Toji sets you free so that you’re true lover can take over. He wraps Toji’s belt around your neck but doesn’t completely fasten it, giving them both the freedom to tug and choke you into submission if needs be.

Sukuna removes his own belt, handing it to Toji to do with whatever he pleases. You whimper as he pulls your wrists behind your back, tying them together with the uncomfortable leather binding.

He pulls out his cock, slapping you lightly across the face with it as you wait patiently with your tongue hanging out. You mewl at he taps his tip against your tastebuds, the taste of his pre instantly permeates your senses.

Two hands settle on either side of your skull as he sinks his cock into your drooling mouth. He throws his head back, groaning as he slots in comfortably. He wastes no time, thrusting into your mouth again and again until you’re sputtering and sobbing.

“She cries easily, huh?” Toji drawls as he strokes himself.

Sukuna nods, forcing you down all of the way to the base until you’re choking. You can’t even steady yourself anymore with your wrists being bound. You can’t breathe and you can’t push away. He pinches your nose when you remember you can breathe through it, suffocating you completely.

“Aw, what’s wrong darlin’? Not gonna break so soon, are ya?” Toji asks, grabbing the makeshift collar and leash around your neck as he softly pulls. But he lets go as Sukuna frees you from his malicious clutches.

They both laugh as you cough and sputter, collapsing into a heap on the ground as you try and get your breath back.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Sukuna asks. He picks you up with ease, and you’re soon bent over the counter again. But, this time, your feet don’t touch the ground. You’re left there, powerless to their touch with your ass perfectly raised while your feet and legs dangle helplessly over the edge.

Toji spreads your ass apart, and the stickiness sounding through the room is deafening. He sneers when it hits his ears. “She’s lying.” he spanks you, hard. And then his fingers toy between your pussy lips, making a complete and utter mess of your panties. “Do you like old men picking on you, hm? You must do. Can you feel how sloppy this cunt is, princess?” he asks.

You whimper out apologies, though they don’t seem to be interested. Toji picks you back up, throwing you over his shoulder as he carries you towards the stairs. Sukuna follows, a wicked grin on his face as he observes your tear-stricken face.

“Does she like anal?” Toji wonders.

“She likes whatever I tell her to like.” Sukuna laughs. “Would you like that, baby? Should we use both of your pretty holes?”

“Can’t wait to tear these fuckin’ panties off ya.” Toji explains. “Dunno why you bothered coming here with clothes on. Should have come bare, with a bow on your head.”

You enter Toji’s bedroom. And it’s gorgeous. It’s so sleek and stunning and there’s even a fireplace crackling away. The atmosphere is romantic, but this situation is hardly that.

Sukuna strokes your cheek, a subtle check to make sure you’re okay as he looks into your eyes. You nod, discreetly, before he slips his thumb between your teeth. You bite down, softly, and he can’t help but smile.

“Think this is the quietest she’s ever been,” Sukuna starts. He massages his thumb into your tongue, and you can’t help but instinctively suck. “Bein’ so good for daddy tonight.” he praises you.

“Daddy, huh?” Toji smirks, taking two fistfuls of your panties between his hands and tears them apart carelessly. “Hope you’ll call me that, sweetheart.”

You look to Sukuna for permission, and he nods. “Just this once.”

“Real pretty girl when you’re suckin’ on somethin’.” Toji comments. He sits on the bed beside you, lifting you up abruptly to sit on his lap. He unhooks your bra and Sukuna seamlessly breaks the straps between heavy fists, ripping it quickly from your body without undoing your bindings. “Suck ‘em while I play with this sweet little cunt.” Toji groans against you as he pulls your back flush against his chest.

Sukuna lightly slaps your tits before walking away. You watch him as he takes a seat in the corner of the room, and he’s become exactly what he hadn’t wanted to. He looks unfazed, though. He seems to be enjoying it if anything. He pulls a cigar from his inner breast pocket along with a lighter, he rests his ankle on his knee as he watches Toji toy with you.

“Watch him, want him to see how good I make you feel.” Toji whispers. He presses two fingers into your mouth slowly. The metal of his rings clang against your teeth, but you don’t care. You wish you could hold his hands as you suckle and lap at his digits. Though you’re broken from your efforts as he starts to circle your clit. “Mmm, such a messy pussy.” he comments.

You wriggle and squirm even with such little pressure applied to your clit. He runs his fingers through your folds, teasing your hole only slightly before he massages your swollen clit again and again.

“—addy!” you whine, unable to sit still as he torments you.

“Hear that? She called me daddy.” Toji chortles, looking at Sukuna. He smirks, but again seems more unfazed than anything. You almost screech around his fingers as he finally inserts his other digits inside of you. As if they weren’t already thick, more metallic rings seem determined to push your pussy to the limit. “You’re gonna make a mess f’me. Alright? Don’t fight me.”

He inserts a third finger between your lips, your mouth contorts and stretches uncomfortably, and still, you suck.

He digs around inside of you like he’s searching for something in particular. And when your legs begin to jolt and quiver, he deduces he’s found it quick enough. His ministrations are almost evil as he alternates between hard and slow fingering. It’s so intense, so excruciating that you can barely concentrate on his fingers in your mouth.

“Can’t see your face, baby. You still with us?” he asks, and you can only offer a barely intelligible response. Sukuna leans forward in his chair as he smokes, uncaring for where he flicks the ash. It’s the last thing on Toji’s mind, too. Especially when you’re already losing consciousness like this. “They’re just fingers, darlin’. Gonna go stupid for my cock if you can’t even handle this.” he laughs.

“Slap her cunt.” Sukuna tells him. And soon enough Toji is landing a hard enough spank to your puffy clit. You mewl, so he repeats it. Again and again. Harder and harder. “Finger her, I’ll do it.”

Toji puts his fingers back inside of your tight walls and finds that spot again. Sukuna lords above you, cigar resting between the gentle bite of his teeth as he spanks your cunt hard. It makes you dizzy, almost delirious. The conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure make your eyes water.

“Crying again.” he says as he spanks your pussy again. “Who knew two cocks would make you so obedient and submissive?”

“And we haven’t even fucked her yet.” Toji reminds him, and he smirks. “I should have invaded your turf a long time ago if I knew it would get us here.”

“Hm,” Sukuna hums. Your breath hitches, and he raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “She’s going to cum. Is she getting tight?”

“Like she’s gonna break my fingers.” Toji smirks. And with a few more spanks against your clit as Toji continuously batters his fingers into your g-spot, you’re cumming harder than you ever have in your life. Sukuna doesn’t move away as he feels you douse him with the thick stream shooting from your cunt. “Oh fuck. You’re a little squirter, huh. Or a big squirter, look at the fuckin’ mess you made of us, dirty girl. Told ya you would.” he teases you, not letting up on your insides as he tries to draw every last drop of your arousal from you.

It's not like it’s the first time you’ve squirted.

But you’ve never squirted that much before.

Your mouth is free as Toji pulls out his fingers, and you feel a chill as he wipes your saliva against the column of your spine. You’re surprised when you feel him undo the belt keeping your wrists together. And you’re even more surprised as he helps you straddle him properly.

He squeezes your ass as you begin to rut your hips against his cock, the tip catches against your hole as he holds cups your cheek and offers you a showstopping, tongue tangling kiss. You yelp as Sukuna yanks your hair until your vision is his face at an almost upside down angle. He spits in your mouth, crudely, before releasing your hair.

You don’t bother swallowing it as Toji brings you back to him and locks his lips with yours. He couldn’t care less that Sukuna had spat in your mouth. You’d already sucked his cock, what did it matter to him?

“You’re so well trained, princess.” he smirks. He stands up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He places you flat against the bed, nibbling on your collarbone before he nips and kisses downward. Further and further and further. “Let daddy taste you.” he demands, and you nod.

Sukuna holds your underarms and pulls you until your head droops backward, lolling over the edge of the mattress.

You wince as he slots his cock between your lips again, and he loosens the tightness of the belt still around your neck. The slight choking feeling is replaced with his hand, intent on feeling your throat bulge from the broadness of his cock.

Your legs cramp around Toji’s head as he gets to work feasting on your folds. If not for Sukuna’s length stuffing your throat, you’d be screaming at the way he suctions his lips around your clit. He licks and sucks again and again until your mind goes blank.

“That’s a good toy,” Sukuna chuckles darkly. “Stop thinking, now, we’ll do that for you.”

Toji can’t get enough of your taste. He can’t help but stroke himself as he pleasures you, and he grunts again and again against your heat. The fingers on his free hand sink into your doughy thighs. He’s doing all he can do to make sure you stay put. And he wants his face to be suffocated by your cunt.

Sukuna pulls out, determined not to cum this way. He’ll only cum if he’s doing so directly into your womb. He drops to his knees, helping you up a little so you can look down at the man about to give you your second orgasm of the evening. Your head sags against Sukuna’s broad shoulder, but you manage to look through barely open eyelids to see raven locks shaking and swaying as he lashes his tongue against your clit.

“’m gonna c-cum, daddy… fuck.” you mutter, unsure if you’re referring to Sukuna or Toji. Neither of them seem to care, though, they’re more focused on your wobbly thighs and spasming cunt. “Ngghh—!” you wail.

Toji slurps up your mess as you squirt all over his face. He laughs, scar pulling deliciously as he tries to catch your essence in his wide, smiling mouth. He sticks his tongue out before attaching his lips directly against the source again.

And even he’s panting when you’re finished. Completely satisfied from this alone.

Though his eyes and mind are full of desire as he fantasises about how close he is to feeling you wrapped around him.

“I want her pussy.” Toji insists, and Sukuna shrugs his shoulders.

Sukuna scoops you into his arms, and the two of them help position your near lifeless body between them. Though your pseudo-husband is the first to shove his cock into your drooling slot. Toji scowls, prepared to pull you away from him if needs be.

“I said—”

“And?” Sukuna responds. “Fuck her pussy, then.”

Toji is frozen, unsure of what he means. But they keep eye contact as Sukuna fully sheathes himself to the hilt. Toji’s gaze only falters when he hears you moan from the stretch. You look up at him, your sweet doe eyes absolutely sodden with tears. And still, you bite your lip as you lose yourself to the bliss of being an object.

“Oh, princess,” Toji smirks, kissing the tip of your nose before he lines his cock up with your hole. “Gonna have to break this little pussy, ‘cause your daddy’s so selfish.” he tells you.

He hisses as he breaches inside of you, and your head falls forward to rest on his chest. They both hush you and coo sweetly as their cocks tear you apart. You aren’t sure which of them he was calling selfish, but really, it’s both.

They could have taken turns if they both wanted you this way.

But they were hellbent on double stuffing you.

Their hips move in tandem, neither of them giving you a single moment to catch your breath as they bully their cocks into you again and again. You’re screaming out moans as they pummel your insides. You’re bound to be aching and bruised tomorrow. You don’t care, though, not right now. And they certainly don’t. Not when your tight little hole feels so Goddamn perfect.

“Fuck— fuck,” Toji grunts. “Don’t wanna pull out.”

“D—on’t.” you squeak out, and they both let out a little laugh each at your weak request.

“She’s a little cum slut, can’t get enough. Fill her up, fuck if I care. Want this little pussy bred, baby? Hm? Want your daddy’s to fuck you full’a kids?” Sukuna teases. And you nod, it’s weak, pathetic, but determined. “Goooood girl, ‘m close.”

“I’m close as well, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Toji announces, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more staggered.

The change in pace has you clenching, the third and final nail in your coffin as your pussy begins to gush for them both. They’re both a little embarrassed, flushing red in the face as your tightening hole leads to both of their mutual demise.

“That’s it, take it, little slut.” Sukuna commands as he empties his balls inside of you. Toji is no better, the obscene names seem like second nature to them both.

“Fuck, look at her stomach.” Toji snickers. Sukuna looks down to see your tummy swollen with their cocks and cum.

They both pull out, wholly beguiled as your body collapses onto the bed in a heap. You’re practically asleep as they position you onto your stomach and split your legs apart to see how their sperm leaks out of your twitching cunt.

“I want another go.” Toji smirks, unable to pull his eyes away from your glittering slit.

“Let her rest a little.” Sukuna tells him. “I’m not done with her, either.”

You’re tired.

You’re so tired of coming to these fucking meetings.

Sukuna walks through the building with you close by. His arm around you, protectively. Somehow, you think the encounter with his rival has made him love you more. He’s been clingier, lately, which isn’t like him. He never wants to let you out of his sight, or his grasp.

He’s been using you more too.

It’s like how things were in the beginning again.

You’re sure everyone knows what happened. Eyes are on you, and their full of judgement. It hurts, of course, but there’s nothing to be done. Sukuna was right: you agreed. You did it for him and yet out of the two men who were supposed to deal with this amongst themselves, you’re the only one paying the price.

Nobody cares if their boss had a threesome.

Everyone cares if his girlfriend got used like a slut though.

Mostly, you can’t bring yourself to care. As you sit down beside Sukuna, his hand rests on your thigh while you scan everyone’s shame-filled faces. You’d challenge any of them to care what others think of them after the night you had.

It was mind blowing.

To be dominated thoroughly by the two biggest men you’ve ever met like that is a feeling you can’t begin to describe. To feel so small and worthless in comparison to them. For your body to be used in whatever manner they see fit and for them to still allow you to cum despite your purpose being for their enjoyment…

You haven’t stopped thinking about it.

About them.

About him.

Sukuna’s hand leaves your thigh as he addresses the room. Explaining how Toji miraculously decided to back off after a firm warning. No one believes it, but everyone is happy enough. But there’s always going to be issues and problems when you’re involved in illegal activity. So despite your nose being buried in your phone, you can’t say you’re surprised when you hear Sukuna move onto the next issue.

Uraume sees you smirking as your fingers tap away at your keyboard. And it makes her smirk, too.

Toji insisted that you put your number in his phone when you spent the night. Sukuna was using the bathroom, and he forced his phone into your shaky fingers. You were panicking, but you typed fast.

You’ve been texting non-stop ever since.

Uraume thinks you’re a naïve fool.

She knows exactly what you’re doing because this is what she had envisioned from the very start. She orchestrated everything. She invited Toji’s foot soldiers to start operating their business on Sukuna’s turf; just like she is the one who informed Sukuna of the invasion with such haste and loyalty.

She is the one who hinted at where they might find you that day you were shopping with Yuuji. And she is the one who let slip to Toji what your arrangement with Sukuna is.

Sukuna respects Uraume, but he doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

She has managed perfectly to drive a wedge between you that neither of you even know is there yet. His lack of respect for your body has driven you into the willing arms of another man. Only through texting, for now, but before long that won’t be enough for you. Sukuna’s jealousy and possessiveness have made him love you more, the scales have tipped the other way and it is all to benefit Uraume.

Sukuna will find out, she’ll make sure of that.

And whether he kills you or casts you aside, it matters not to her. Because his heart will be broken either way; and she will be there to pick up the pieces. Sukuna hates how jealous you are of Uraume. But neither of you have a single solitary clue that she’s thinking all of this through right now.

Uraume feels a little bad for you, your intuition is keen. But Sukuna will never suspect a thing. You’re just insecure, he thinks. But Uraume applauds you for having your guard up about her.

You were right to worry.

© 2023 rinhaler

[ervotica]

hehe dark!rafe fucking jj's ex bc she spiraling after the break up and using hella drugs so he's just degrading & using her however bc she's beneath him and he can't help but record it and send it to the male pouge's

warnings; DARK, smut (18+ only), drug use, dub-con (r is HEAVILY under the influence and not very aware), throat fucking, fingering, slight daddy kink, breathplay, degradation (I may have gone insane with this one I fear)

A cruel hand is splayed against the top of your spine where the base of your neck begins, subduing you enough to keep you from thrashing as Rafe curls his fingers against the spongy walls of your cunt. You're alight with pleasure, the lick of a flame igniting your every muscle as you gargle into the sheets below you; you're not entirely sure how you got here but your drug addled brain is too hazy with the white-hot euphoria he is so kindly granting you.

He groans at your blank eyes, breath hot on your skin as he licks a long line against the column of your throat and bites down, taking great enjoyment in the way you wriggle and whine.

"Please," you gasp out, that coil in your belly drawing tighter the longer he keeps his fingers nestled against that spot deep in your pussy that makes you scream.

"Please, what?"

"Please, daddy. Lemme cum."

"Attagirl." His grin is wolfish, teeth pointed and bared like a predator. "Little fuckin' whore, aren'tcha, kid? Bet Maybank never made you feel this good."

You shake your head vehemently, almost incomprehensible where you're drooling into the pillow beneath your balmy face.

He tweaks his fingers once more and suddenly the dull flame of bliss has roared to life, squeezing every one of your muscles like tendrils as you gush and your hole clenches around his thick digits.

The muted roar of white noise is all you can hear for a good while; eyes rolling, lashes fluttering, limp and spent from just one orgasm.

You don't see him next but rather you feel him. A thick mushroom head prodding against your swollen lips, the taste of bitter precum on your tongue as he feeds his cock down your spasming throat. A gag rips through you but he pushes past it, unfazed by your own discomfort as he chases the feeling of your tender gullet tightening around him.

"Yeahhh, that's good," he unabashedly moans, deep and gravelly. His cock pushes at the thin skin of your neck, flesh bulging as he settles your nose in the thatch of hair at his pubic bone, heavy sack pressing lewdly atop your gurgling mouth with every rut of his hips.

Bubbles of spit ooze from the corners of your stretched lips and then you're suddenly blinded by white light. The flash of a phone camera crowds your vision and Rafe doubles down, hips pistoning against your slack face as he groans and grunts, degrading insults pouring from his mouth.

"Dirty slut, all you're good for 's takin' dick, right? Just a filthy little hole for me to use when 'm bored."

You purl and choke around him in an effort to voice your complaints, but all it seems to do is spur him on further.

"G'na have this throat trained in no time, kid. You're my personal cocksleeve from now on."

He wrenches himself away despite being seemingly on the precipice of blowing his load; you gasp and whimper as he turns to prop the still recording phone on the dresser behind him, twisting a large handful of your mussed hair around his hand and dragging you across the expanse of the king sized bed. Your neck contorts in an odd sort of manner as he positions you with your head hanging upside-down from the side of the plush mattress. It gives him ample leverage to use you without care; he's not bothered if you pass out, he'll use you either way.

It's rough, borderline abusive, how he fucks your throat. Hard and fast and unrelenting despite your almost continuous retching and slapping feebly at his thick thighs. The bulge in the divot of the soft flesh only becomes more prominent, his spongy head pushing from the inside as though it's trying to rip through you.

His hand reaches between his own legs to plug your nostrils and a menacing chuckle hits your ears as your vision blurs and your eyes lose focus and roll to the back of your skull.

He lets up just as you're on the cusp of unconsciousness, dick never leaving your warm cavern as he reaches blindly behind him for the phone. Forearms dig cruelly into your ribcage as he props himself up and zooms the camera in on your sopping, swollen cunt, parting your petal soft lips and slipping two fingers inside to bully another orgasm from you.

"If I were you, Maybank, I'd have never given up this tight cunt," Rafe rasps. "Fucked the poor thing dumb, already. 'M keeping her."

He presses send before you can protest- not that you'll ever be able to. You'll be too cockdrunk to ever notice what he's done.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  

“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

[witchywithwhiskey]

🌝 booping trucker!ari while cockwarming

Chi, you wonderful menace, you have no idea what you've done to me!! this was going to be a short little scene and then it turned into THIS i'm sorry

bored on the road

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you're bored on the road and it gets you into trouble.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, cock warming, object insertion, sadism/masochism, slight bratting/brat taming, choking, breathplay, painplay, face slapping, come play/come eating, exhibitionism, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, brief objectification, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, tiny bit of aftercare, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, a mean hot man

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i know we're like almost a week past the tumblr boop fest but work was rough this week so apologies that this is a little late!!! also uh, this got way filthier than i was expecting so please enjoy i guess?? 😅

trucker king masterlist

Your head lay on Ari’s shoulder, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window of his truck and landing on your face, making you sleepy. But, though you were comfortable with your legs straddling Ari’s lap and your chest pressed so close to his that you could feel his heart beating against your sternum, sleep didn’t come.

You sat on your trucker’s lap, your bodies joined in the most intimate way while he navigated his rig through the frustratingly dull traffic on a dusty highway somewhere in the midwest. Both of you were quiet—Ari because he shut down all your attempts at conversation and you because you’d grown tired of trying to get him to talk. 

Though he wouldn’t talk, Ari wanted you on his lap, your tight, soft hole keeping him warm while he drove. You’d acquiesced as always, happy to follow his command, to be useful and connected to your trucker.

Still, you were bored. 

You’d turned your head to look out the window, but with traffic creeping along so slowly and nothing but the endless, barren desert stretching out beyond the road, there wasn’t much to look at. You could feel a restlessness thrumming beneath your skin, urging you to move, to do something, even as you tried to push it down. 

Ari had made it clear he didn’t want to talk, and you knew well enough he wanted you to be a quiet, well-behaved little cockwarmer. You wanted to be that for him, you wanted to be content with cockwarming him like you so often were, but that restlessness clawed through your body until you finally succumbed to its siren’s song.

Sitting up straight, you wiggled your hips, watching your trucker’s face for a reaction as his cock shifted deep in your cunt. Though you knew it felt good for him, Ari merely grunted at the sensation, flicking a warning glare at you. Pouting, you squeezed him with your inner walls, clenching down hard enough to wring a huffed sound of exasperation out of him.

“Sit still,” he scolded in a low, rumbling growl, his words barely discernible in his gruff grumble. One of his hands shifted from the steering wheel to your lower back, pressing you down on his cock so the tip of him ground against a spot inside you that made your lashes flutter with pleasure.

Instead of settling you, his words and his hand on your back only made the frustrating restlessness worse. So you stared at your trucker in quiet contemplation for a moment. 

Ari’s handsome face was hardened into a severe expression as he stared out at the unrelenting traffic clogging the interstate. His blue eyes were dulled with boredom and frustration of his own, the edges of his mouth pulled down in a frown framed perfectly but his dark beard. His brown hair hung down on either side of his face, calling attention to his handsomeness—and his unhappiness. 

An idea came to you suddenly. A terrible idea. A wonderfully terrible idea. 

Before you could think better of it, you booped Ari on the nose. 

“Boop,” you chirped, pulling your finger away quickly. You knew the probability of retaliation from your trucker was high, though you weren’t certain what form it would take. 

However, instead of growling or yelling at you to get back to being a quiet little cockwarmer, Ari simply cut his eyes to yours briefly. He raised an eyebrow, managing to look condescending even as he asked a silent question. He didn’t wait for a response, though, before he looked away from you and back out at the dusty road.

You huffed a little annoyed sigh at being essentially ignored by your trucker, your lips pursing in an even deeper pout. Though it was clear Ari didn’t like being booped, you refused to be deterred. 

Tapping Ari’s nose again with your finger, you trilled, “Boop!” even louder than before.

Still, your trucker gave you nothing in the way of a compelling response. You should’ve seen the trap for what it was, but then, you were the one who got into Ari’s rig in the first place. 

Determined to get a reaction out of your trucker, you pressed your finger to the tip of Ari’s nose like you were holding down a button and droned, “Booooop!”

Quicker than you would’ve thought possible, Ari tipped his head back and caught your finger between his teeth. He nipped at your skin hard enough to scold, but not break skin. It was so sudden, it shocked you. 

“Ah!” you squealed at the sting of his teeth, the surprised sound dissolving into a giggle. You tried to pull your finger free, but Ari bit down a little harder. 

His eyes cut to yours, a mirthful reprimand in his sparkling blue eyes. They practically shone in the warm afternoon light filtering into the truck cab. 

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming your hips, the slight pain of his teeth digging into your skin going straight to your core. A soft moan slipped from your lips when you felt your trucker’s hard length twitch within your cunt, making you grind down on him as subtly as you could, trying to eke out the delicious friction of his cock rubbing inside of you. “I’m sorry for booping you,” you mumbled, pouting at your trucker. “I’m just bored.”

With one last nip to the pad of your finger, Ari let you go. However, he clearly wasn’t done with you because a moment later, his hand circled the front of your throat and he held you still, pinning you with his ruthless gaze. 

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine and you tried desperately not to show how much you enjoyed finally having your trucker’s attention. 

“Aw baby, why didn’t you tell me you were bored,” Ari cooed in a mockingly sweet tone. It was the one he used just before he got really mean. Your heart beat faster with excitement.

His fingertips digging into your neck were a second warning, Ari’s hand squeezing your throat so tight, an involuntary whimper slipped past your lips. Instead of fear, though, there was only heady arousal dripping through your body, pooling in your core and leaking out around Ari’s stiff cock. 

“Since warming daddy’s cock is so boring,” Ari began, his voice lowering into a deep, seething growl as he squeezed your throat even tighter, choking off your air supply. “Let’s see how you like it when daddy makes you ride something else, huh, fucktoy?” 

You barely had time to grin at the malicious glimmer in Ari’s eye before he was forcing you off his lap and down onto the floor between the driver’s and passenger seats. The sting of pain in your knees as they collided with the hard floor scarcely registered when you were too curious about what your trucker had planned for you. 

Ari shifted his grip to your chin and pushed your face against the gearshift sitting in front of you, the thick, leather-wrapped knob at eye-level from where you knelt. 

The realization of what Ari expected you to do struck you like a freight train, stealing the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened. Even as your mind went blank with surprise, something dark and filthy deep inside your body twitched with interest, coming alive at the thought of sinking your pussy down on the gearshift of Ari’s truck.

“Lick daddy’s gearshift, sweetheart,” Ari ordered, mocking condescension dripping from his tone. Then your heart nearly stopped when he confirmed he wanted you to do exactly what you’d suspected. “You’re gonna wanna make it nice and slick if you don’t want it to hurt when you fuck yourself on it.”

Your eyes went heavy-lidded as you let Ari’s words wash over you, your pussy throbbing with desire and your lips dropping open in a silent moan. However, your trucker wasn’t an especially patient man, so he pushed your mouth against the gearshift, urging you to follow his command. 

You knew well enough to follow any order Ari gave you, so you wrapped your hands around the shaft of the gearshift and pulled yourself closer. Pressing your lips to the leather and plastic of the shifter, you kissed all over it, making sure to leave plenty of drool behind. 

“That’s it, cock slut,” Ari rumbled, his tone pleased. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was flicking his gaze between you and the road, depraved delight sparkling in his eyes. “Show daddy’s gear stick some love.” His big hand settled heavily on the crown of your head, pushing your lips harder against the leather handle.

You redoubled your efforts, licking and kissing the gearshift until your lips and chin were covered in your own saliva. It was sloppy and messy, but you could tell from Ari’s warm chuckle that he enjoyed the sight of you making out with his truck’s shifter.

“You’re drooling all over that knob like you wish it was your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari teased, a wickedness in his tone that made your pussy throb and clench desperately around nothing. A soft whine caught in the back of your throat, but Ari heard the pathetic sound, laughing harder at you. “Is that it, gross girl?” he asked mockingly. “Ya wanna make daddy’s gearshift your new boyfriend?” 

Using his grip on your head, he made you nod, rubbing your mouth lewdly against the slick leather knob. You whimpered, clutching the long shaft of the lever so you weren’t tempted to shove you hand between your thighs and impale yourself on your fingers. You were dripping down your thighs and you wanted something to shove deep in your aching, throbbing pussy.

“Well get him nice and wet, baby,” Ari said, the laughter in his tone stealing some of the edge from his command. “Cause he’s going in that tight cunt of yours—we’re gonna see how much we can stretch and ruin that needy little hole of yours.”  

Ari’s hand left the back of your head, giving you room to lick and kiss and drool over the gearshift to your heart’s content. Distantly, you felt the drift of the truck as it slowly merged into another lane, but you were too preoccupied with your task to care much about the traffic Ari was navigating. 

When your trucker was satisfied with your work, he grabbed the back of your neck and yanked you away from the gearshift. A protesting whine fell from your lips, which made Ari laugh loudly, the sound cold and mean as it filled the truck and made you hotter with desire. 

“Time to fuck your new boyfriend, sweetheart,” Ari mocked, looking pointedly at the slick gearshift then back at you. “Let’s see if you’re still bored when you’re stretching your tight cunt on daddy’s gear stick.” His eyes danced with wicked mirth as he stared down at you from the driver’s seat, squeezing your neck when you didn’t immediately move to follow his command.

On trembling legs, you stood, bending at the waist to fit within the confines of the truck cab and turned around. If your bare ass was on display for any cars or trucks around Ari’s rig, neither of you cared. Thankfully, the oversized t-shirt your wore covered most of you.

As quickly as you could manage, you positioned yourself above the flat top of the gearshift and reached between your thighs to hold the shaft steady. You lowered yourself down onto the knob, the slick leather pushing against your dripping pussy. 

However, though you were soaking wet with arousal and the gearshift was covered in your drool, the broad leather handle met resistence from your cunt, which refused to give and allow the thick object inside your small hole. No matter how you shifted or pushed down on the gearshift, it wouldn’t sink into your sopping pussy. A whine worked its way up your throat, leaking from your lips and filling the truck cab with your frustration.

“It’s too big, daddy,” you whimpered as you struggled, your thighs beginning to shake from the awkward way you hovered above the gearshift.

“Aw, baby,” Ari cooed before his voice turned cold and mean, “Do you think I fucking care?” He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides until your eyes flicked to his. His blue gaze danced in the afternoon sunlight with depraved intent. “I was perfectly content with you sitting in my lap, your cunt keeping my cock warm,” he growled, sounding furious as his gaze flicked between you and the road. “But you were bored—so you’re gonna fuck daddy’s gear stick or I’m gonna find something bigger to shove in that needy cunt of yours.” 

Ari’s ruthless words had your pussy throbbing in response, more arousal dripping from your slit and onto the knob between your thighs. It was all you could do to whimper with desperation and rock against the leather shifter, your cunt aching to be filled. 

The gearshift rubbed between your folds, teasing your little hole with its broadness. With renewed determination, you pushed down on the lever, pressing against it until your pussy’s resistence gave way and you finally—finally—felt the thick knob slip past the tight rim of your cunt’s entrance.

A loud, pornographic groan fell from your lips as your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of Ari’s gearshift sinking into your pussy. There was the burning sting of the thick, unyielding lever inside your stretched cunt, but the sensation softened into waves of pleasure that threatened to carry you away to a sea of ecstasy. 

You craved more of that deliciously aching pleasure, so you pushed down on the gearshift, taking the leather knob deep inside your cunt. It felt like your pussy was greedy for more with how easy it was to lower yourself further on the shifter, until the top hit the end of you and you couldn’t take any more.

For a long moment, you hung suspended in the feeling of the fullness in your cunt, the leather knob so deep inside you, you were convinced that if you pressed down on your lower tummy, you’d be able to feel it. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open in pleasure-drunk bliss as you reveled in the sensation of having the strange object inside you. 

However, your trucker clearly wasn’t happy that you’d forgotten you were putting on a depraved show for him, and he dragged your attention back to him in the meanest way possible.

Ari slapped you across the face, the cracking sound reaching your ears before you registered the sting. When the pain hit you, your pussy clenched tight around the gearshift inside you, and you moaned, blinking dazed eyes until your trucker came into focus. His blue gaze was dancing with amusement and cruel delight. 

“Look at me while you ride your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari sneered meanly, his hand returning to your throat. He squeezed your neck lightly, a warning not to look away from him again. “Go on and degrade yourself for me, baby,” he rumbled, a grin slowly spreading across his handsome face. “Fuck yourself on my rig’s gear stick—show daddy what a disgusting little slut ya are.”

You stared into Ari’s eyes and moaned, your mouth parting and your gaze going heavy-lidded with pleasure at the depravity of his words. Your reaction only made Ari’s grin deepen, his eyes shimmering in the golden afternoon light filtering into the truck cab. 

He kept looking back at the road, one hand on the wheel to steer the truck, the other around your neck. His attention was split because it had to be, but you had the compulsion to put on a show for him that was so distracting, he’d have trouble remembering to look away from you.

With that thought crystalizing in your mind, you lifted yourself up on the gearshift until only the top was lodged in your pussy, the knob stretching your tight hole to its limit, before sliding back down on the shaft. The lever was so stiff and unrelenting inside your body, the object so foreign, that a wicked shiver raced down your spine.

Your body knew it was taking something unnatural, something that was never meant to be shoved inside your slick hole. But you were riding it anyway, your pussy taking Ari’s gearshift like it was a cock and it turned you on more. Eagerly, you fucked Ari’s truck like it was him, bouncing on it happily, the knowledge that you were using something as perverse as a gearshift to get yourself off only making you gush even more with arousal. 

“Daddy,” you whimpered on a moan, staring into Ari’s handsome face while you rode his gear stick. Pleasure and pain twisted your expression, your thighs trembling violently from holding you up, even as you kept fucking yourself on the leather knob.

“Ya still bored, cock whore?” Ari taunted, his hand around your throat pulling your upper body closer to him. Your nose brushed against the coarse hair of his beard and you moaned when you inhaled the familiar musky scent of your trucker. 

The new position allowed you to brace your hands on Ari’s chest, and you nearly sobbed in relief as it took some of your weight off your shaking legs. The reprieve was so overwhelming, it took you a moment to gather your wits and answer Ari’s question.  

“No, daddy, ‘m not bored at all,” you purred, using the new angle of your body to bounce your hips on the gearshift. The wet schlick sounds of your cunt fucking the knob filled the truck cab, and you let loose a low moan, the sound nearly muffled in Ari’s beard. 

“Good girl,” he rasped, his hand squeezing your throat and moving you so he could see the pleasure dancing across your features. His gaze trailed down your body to where your ass was bouncing on his gear stick, his throat bobbing in front of your eyes as he swallowed thickly. “Good fucking girl.” 

The look in his eye was nearly entranced and you couldn’t help but smirk a little to yourself. It had been a few seconds since he’d glanced at the road, and though you knew you were playing a dangerous game, you didn’t really think you’d cause Ari to crash his truck. 

Probably.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimpered, pouting your lips at your trucker and dragging his attention away from your ass. His darkening eyes fell to your lips, exactly like you wanted. “It’s so big inside me, my little pussy’s so full, daddy.” You batted your lashes at Ari, pleased to see his pupils dilate even more, until only a thin ring of blue remained. 

“Christ, baby, you’re making me jealous of my fucking rig,” Ari groaned like he was in pain. His fingers dug into the sides of your neck while the hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to his cock. Your trucker used his knee to steer while he stroked himself in his fist. “Ya like your new boyfriend better than me?” Ari asked, something dangerous in his tone. 

You almost giggled at the idea that you could like his truck’s gearshift better than his cock, but you bit the sound back knowing he was asking a serious question. Holding Ari’s gaze, you shook your head solemnly.

“No,” you said honestly. “Nothing’s better than your fat cock, daddy.” You trailed your fingers down Ari’s chest before wrapping them around the tip of his cock, both of you using your hands to stroke his hard length. “You fill me up so good, daddy, I love feeling you pump me full of your come.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his bearded cheek, the gesture so at odds with the filthiness of what you were both doing that it made it hotter.

“Fuck,” Ari ground out through clenched teeth. Then, something in him seemed to snap right before your eyes.

Suddenly, Ari’s hand was gone from around his cock. He gripped the wheel and swerved the truck to the side to pull onto the shoulder of the highway. The truck went half off the road, the bumpiness making you ride Ari’s gearshift harder, wringing a depraved moan from you that made his eyes flare with more wildness.

A thick cloud of dust swirled around the cab, but neither of you gave any thought to the fact that it would shield what you were about to do from everyone else on the road.

“In the back, baby,” your trucker growled, throwing on his hazards and reaching for his gearshift to put the rig in park.

For a second, Ari seemed stumped about what to do. Since the shifter was still buried in your pussy, he couldn’t grab it like he normally would. Instead, he opted to grab your hips in both hands and use your body to shift the truck into park. 

A delicious shiver at the perverse obscenity of the action raced down your spine and you moaned loudly. There was something about Ari using your body as an extension of his truck that was so fucking hot, your mind went completely blank for a moment. 

Then his hands released you and the need to be fucked rushed back into your body. Without thinking, you were tumbling forward, pulling yourself off the shifter with a whimper and crawling eagerly onto the cot in the back of the rig. 

“Hope your new boyfriend loosened you up, fucktoy,” Ari growled as he followed you into the back, pushing you down onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. “Because I’m gonna use your cunt like it’s my own personal fleshlight.” He slapped your ass hard enough to make you jump and yelp before you relaxed back into position.

You were perched on the edge of the cot, your knees spread and back curved in an arch, head resting on your arms so your ass was up and on display for your trucker. Without any more warning, Ari slid his stiff, leaking cock into your slick, warm cunt.

Your trucker groaned loudly, the pleasured rumble warming your heart with pride as he buried his thick cock in your snug little pussy. A soft smile tugged at the edges of your mouth as Ari curled around you, covering your back with his chest, his hands reaching around to grope your tits through your cotton t-shirt. 

“Christ, ya feel so fucking good, baby,” Ari growled, rolling his hips in tight circles, fucking you hard and fast.

The sound of your bodies clapping against each other drifted to your ears, adding to the pleasure gathering in a tight coil in your core. Your trucker’s face was pressed into the back of your neck, his breath hot and harsh against your skin, raising goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re still so fucking tight, cock slut,” Ari rasped, nipping at the underside of your jaw and making you clench down on his cock from even that brief bite of pain. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t ya, sweetheart—my cock and anything else I want, huh, kiddo?” 

Ari’s husky chuckle and his degrading words ghosted over your cheek and you could do nothing else besides moan your response. You’d fuck anything he told you to fuck, riding his gearshift whenever he wanted, as long as he fucked you exactly like he was afterward. Ari’s cock filled you perfectly, like your body truly was made for him, the tip of him grinding against your cervix and making you see stars.

It seemed Ari didn’t need you to answer his question, because he went on speaking filth in your ear, one of his hands wrapping around your throat and choking you while the other groped your tits and plucked at your nipples.

“Ya gonna come on daddy’s dick, sweetheart?” he taunted, his tone mean and cruel and so cold it made your desire flare hotter. “Gonna cream all over your filthy trucker’s fat cock even after I made you fuck my gear stick, baby?” 

Your lips moved, forming words before you could force them off your tongue. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, daddy,” you whispered, riding the edge of your release. Ari’s cock pummeled your cunt, pounding so deep you could feel him in your throat, and it was almost enough. “Please, daddy,” you cried, needing just a bit more stimulation to push you over. 

Ari grunted in your ear, “Alright, kiddo,” before reaching between your thighs and finding your clit, slippery with your wetness. His thick fingers rubbed the aching nub and it was exactly what you needed. 

With a piercing cry, you tumbled headfirst into an ocean of pleasure, your body going tight and taut as the coil in your core snapped, warm bliss flooding through you. Your cunt gripped Ari’s cock, choking his thick dick in a vise that made him groan viciously.

Your trucker rutted into you furiously, finding his release moments later. He buried his cock deep inside you and came, grunting his pleasure as he emptied his balls in your cunt. You moaned softly at the feeling of his hard length twitching inside you. His low groan as your cunt wrung every drop of seed from his dick filled you with satisfaction. 

For a long moment, you and Ari savored the pleasure of your bodies together, but it couldn’t last. Your trucker didn’t linger—he couldn’t, not with his truck idling on the side of the highway. 

Once he’d caught his breath, Ari pressed a rough kiss to your cheek before pulling out of you and shuffling up to the front. He collapsed into the driver’s seat while you fell onto your side, your eyes watching as he grabbed the gearshift and put the truck back in drive to pull back onto the highway. 

Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but you kept them open long enough to catch Ari licking your juices from his palm. An unmistakeable groan rumbled deep in your trucker’s chest when he tasted you and your pussy gave a week throb in response. Too tired to move, you smiled and sank into the waiting arms of the sleep that called to you.

However, Ari’s snapping fingers dragged you back into the world of the waking. 

“Get up here and clean up your mess, kiddo,” Ari ordered, his voice gruff and stern. 

There was a warmth to his tone that you recognized as the satisfaction you’d given him by making him come, and you couldn’t help smiling at your own pleased pride. But his words were a command all the same, and you knew what you had to do. 

Gathering your strength, you hauled yourself up from the cot and shifted onto your knees between the two seats. You leaned into the gearshift and began licking your slick from the leather, turning your head enough to catch Ari’s eye. He wore a satisfied smirk, reaching down to pet your head as you did what he’d told you. 

Humming happily, you smiled and cleaned up the gearshift like the good girl you wanted to be for your trucker. By the time you were done, the sun was low in the sky. The golden light in the truck had darkened into a fiery glow, and you felt the tug of sleep more insistently. 

Ari chuckled when he noticed you were half-asleep and still licking his gearshift. He helped you into his lap, guiding you down onto his cock to keep him warm while he continued driving. 

You fell asleep against your trucker’s chest, happy and satisfied, the restlessness that had plagued you earlier in the afternoon having been finally subdued by Ari. 

Still, you’d discovered what Ari would do if you booped his nose, and you tucked that knowledge away, saving it for a rainy day when you were inevitably bored again. He was a truck driver after all, there were bound to be more boring days on the road. But you knew your trucker would make sure you were entertained—by making you entertain him.

trucker king masterlist

[fayes-fics]

Ruler & Subject

Paring: Benedict Bridgerton x royal!fem!reader

Summary: blurb where a princess and a certain untitled artist play together…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, power swap, dom/sub dom!Benedict, sub!Princessreader, hair pulling, blow job, deepthroat, breathplay, derogatory names, masturbation, swallowing, smidge of cunnilingus and face-sitting.

Word count: 1.4 k

Authors note: Another smut blurb that came as a result of a roulette prompt (“Swallow. All of it”). Written in an hour. Unbetaed. Utter and complete filth. Enjoy? 🤷‍♀️

Something about his slightly rough treatment makes you mindless with need—a want to be used by him. And he knows it. Gets that glint in his eye when you give him the signal across a room at a boring soirée.

Once in a quiet corridor, he grabs you by the back of the neck and steers you away from prying eyes. Out across the manicured gardens. Deep into your aunt’s Byzantine maze, a mist clinging to the neat privet hedges in the crisp night air.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to get on your knees anymore; it’s a reflex. As soon as he stops marching, you drop. Eager to please. His crooked smile beguiling as you gaze up at him roughly, pulling open the buttons at his hip.

“Hands behind your back,” he tuts as you go to touch his clothed thigh. 

Instantly, you obey, fingers clasped over the small of your back. The rough pebble path under your knees is already a slight discomfort you know will only heighten your experience. Bruises on both your knees for him.

His cock is already leaking as it bobs against your nose, leaving a patch of wetness there that you will savour later. Without being told, you shuffle a fraction, greedily wrap your lips around the tip, suckling into your mouth. Hot, salty and tart against your tongue as you lathe the underside, and he exhales raggedly. A large hand rounding your scalp and pulling your hair at the root, a slight burn on your scalp.

“What's your signal?” He checks quickly.

You raise your left hand and tap twice on his outer thigh. Then, obediently, place the hand back. You never want to use it. 

“Good,” he nods, scraping blunt fingernails over your crown. “I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns, a prickle of excitement running down your spine at that news.

He thrusts his hips forward and slides his cock deep into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut at the blunt force attempting to school your gag reflex.

“Eyes open,” he snaps, “you will look at me the whole time.”

You do as bidden. Wide-eyed as he holds for a few beats, watching you suckle hard and accommodate his girth.

This is what you crave. So very opposite to who you both are; the role reversal and personality juxtaposition are intoxicating. A strong-willed princess on your knees for a sweet, affable, untitled artist. But not when you play like this. He is dominating and rough, bossing you around in ways no one dares. And you revel in it, insist upon it. The submission, the abdication of power, control. The pleasure to be used when, in all other aspects of your existence, you are the designated user, purely by the luck of your birth. 

“My filthy princess,” he coos, one hand moving to tap your hollowed cheek, a thumb hooking into the corner of your mouth to break the tight seal you hold around his cock. “Relax your throat; let me in,” the order is velvet and steel, just like his shaft.

Slackening your suction, you exhale around him, letting your throat open. He tips forward, deeper than before, groaning at the restriction your throat provides, a bead of precum sliding over your tastebuds as he rocks back moments later.

Then his hands clamp around your ears, and he is thrusting. Using your pliant mouth, your lips a ring of soft friction as he grunts, a slick gurgling noise every time he plugs your throat. His movements get rougher, plunging in, his grip strong in your hair, the gravel crunching around your knees and toes as he rocks your whole being. 

He stills, your nose buried in his pubic hair as you burble around his invasion, gaze locked on his. Unable to draw breath, You know he is waiting for that slight hint of panic on your face before giving your reprieve.

He withdraws, letting you take a shuddering, coughed breath as ropes of saliva web from your lips to his glistening cock.

“Call me it,” you implore hoarsely, feeling your spit drooping across the priceless large diamonds that drape around your neck.

“Wanton little slut,” he growls, and you flood yourself, a trickle of arousal running down your trembling inner thigh to your right knee.

“Please fuck me,” you beseech as he roughly moves your head around by your hair, chasing your mouth with his cock, a game of cat and mouse he is playing with himself as much as you.

“No. Ride your fingers if you must, but tonight, you stay on your knees.”

You whimper in disappointment before he slides back into your mouth, holding still shallow, awaiting your suckling attentions. Which you enthusiastically do. Humming and lapping at his cock, sucking hard with your tongue swirling over his frenulum. He mewls little noises, praising your talented mouth as you hitch up your skirt and hurriedly drive two fingers deep into your dripping cunt, wishing it was his cock.

He takes over again, thrusting deep as you ride your own hand, spiralling greedily towards completion. His gaze slips down, and he smirks when he sees your hand thrust under the hem of your dress.

“Give me that hand,” he instructs, holding still a weight over the length of your tongue as you offer your hand above your head. 

He pulls your arm straight, a slight burn in your shoulder socket as he wraps his warm, wet mouth around your soaked fingers and laps at your juices lasciviously. 

“You always taste so deliciously sweet,” he groans as he lets your fingers slip from his lips, thoroughly cleaned.

You can’t answer, your mouth too full, but he already knows it, both so feral for each other's taste. An irresistible tang that leaves you constantly coming back for more. 

Just last week, he was buried under your cloak, making you orgasm - silently - over his tongue in the royal box at the opera. You wanted to scream louder than every singer on stage but had to settle for a vice-like grip on your opera goggles and a few ragged, mute whimpers. Knowing he would stop immediately if you so much as made a peep. You are sure other box patrons likely saw him emerging from under your layers, a smug smirk on his dampened face, before being summarily dismissed from your company. And yet word never got back to your mother, the queen of Prussia, or your aunt Queen Charlotte. Women of power need their pretty playthings, likely being the Ton’s shared sentiment.

Urgency takes over for both of you. A need to climax clawing at your beings. You roughly rub your clit as his movements turn sharp, more pronounced, using you without mercy, knowing it is driving you closer, too, the heady sensation of denied breaths. You feel his peak as much as you hear his barked warning, a ripple up his shaft that has you readying yourself for the salty, tart taste, his tip at the back of your tongue. You have to hold your breath as it coats the inside of your mouth, him curled over and around you, cursing, his hand heavily matted into your hair.

“Swallow,” he commands. “All of it.”

You do as you are told, almost unable not to, mouth filled, his hand slipping to your throat to ensure you follow the directive.

“Good,” he groans, rubbing your windpipe soothingly with his palm as he shudders with little aftershocks.

You feel the throb of denial, unable to complete before he did, your clit burning, engorged, needing relief. As he withdraws from your mouth, you cannot stop the little shimmy in your hips, desperate for reprieve.

“Did my little Princess not finish?” he chuckles as he tucks himself back into his britches.

You pout and shake your head, looking up at him imploringly. The smirk that grows on his face makes your heart light up.

“Alright, you can sit on my face,” he offers conciliatoryly, sinking to join you on the ground. “But it will cost you…” he ends with a clipped warning.

“What is the price?” your voice slightly hoarse, eagerly gathering your dress around your hips and shuffling over him.

“I’ll think of something,” he hums affably before disappearing under your gown.

You offer him half of Bavaria when he slides his tongue deep into your slit and has you howling at the moon. Instead, ever your loyal subject, he settles on what you already had planned for him—one of his paintings hung in the National Gallery and you wearing a choker with his initials hidden amongst a cluster of sapphires.

No taglist cos just a writing sprint blurb.

[zaynescitizen]

How do you think what could be the kinks of LnDS boys? 😏😏😏

I had fun writing that but oh my god I was STRUGGLING with Xavier, and I had to hold myself back with Sylus because in my eyes he is an absolute whore🎀. For Rafayel and Xavier I think it ended up being quite poorly written but I genuinely couldn't think of anything more than that, so I do apologise.

-Issa

(English is not my first language so there is a high chance of grammar mistakes. If you come across any please point them out and any and all constructive criticism is welcomed)

content warning: NSFW, different kinks and slight descriptions of them (I never know how to write the CW </3 let me know if I should add any specific ones)

Word count: 671

Characters: Zayne, Sylus, Rafayel, Xavier

Lads and kinks:

In general:

-Starting off I don't feel like any of them have those extreme kinks except maybe Stylus but that is speculating purely off of his card (no defense zone, unfortunately, that is one of two cards 5 star I have of him). I don't think I can genuinely place them from most to least kinky since all of them are on about the same level of it, some a bit more some bit less but overall on the same frequency

Zayne:

-Breast worship, and I will die on this hill. He loves your chest. Coming home after a long day of surgeries he wants nothing more than to play with your breasts or sleep on them. The amount of hickeys he leaves there is abnormal.

-Praise, he loves both giving and receiving paise. Burying his face in your neck while ramming into you, telling you how well you're taking him and how good it feels

-I don't know if this would count as a kink but seeing you ride him makes him near feral, his hands resting on your hips with a tight grip, helping you move over his length.

-Spanking, he loves spanking you as a form of punishment, though he doesn't go overboard and makes sure you are fine with it and are doing alright.

Sylus:

-Accidental stimulation, except it's not accidental and he loves riding you up during auctions he finds boring or when it's least necessary. Seeing you squirm and try to calm down brings him joy and entertainment.

-Sensory deprivation, he loves tying you up and blindfolding you, giving him great ego boost since he takes it as a sign of trust, and the way you react to every touch and kiss makes him lose his mind

-Breathplay, same as the previous, he takes it as a sign of trust and the visual gets him off. Squeezing your throat just enough to make it hard to breathe, but not doing any actual damage

-Begging, another ego boost. The fact that he makes you feel so good that you are begging for him is a dream come true

-Spanking, if you were being bratty he will gladly put you in your place, whether with the palm of his hand or a riding crop

Rafayel:

-This man is a brat and you can't deny it no matter how hard you try.

-Begging, he begs you so sweetly while moving in and out of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, pressing kisses and giving lovebites while trying not to lose it completely

-Bondage, either tying you up or being tied up himself. He loves it.

-Lingerie, he loves seeing you in such pretty yet revealing sad excuses of clothes. He doesn't know whether to take you right then and there or to draw you.

-Temperature play, his evol is fire, he will use that to his advantage and warm you up in all the right place, though for cooling down he will have to use ice cubes

Xavier:

-I think Xavier is the least kinky of them all. After being alive for so long I think he does enjoy more casual vanilla settings, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy something more from time to time

-I genuinely can't think of a single kink for this man, which is disappointing. He has them, but I can't pinpoint which ones.

-One I can definitely see him in is restriction/bondage, holding your arms pinned up against the bed or behind your back while rutting into you like a dog in heat

-Again, not sure if this counts as a kink but he loves giving you oral. He could do it all day, every day, anywhere, everywhere, on every surface, in every position… you get the point. He loves it.

-Cockwarming, sometimes he just wants be be close to you, inside you, but is simply too tired. Especially after a hard mission. Lying in bed with him, filled up and on the verge of falling asleep in his arms

[taeyongers]

Between the Hammer and Anvil (M)

pairing: mafia boss/ceo taeyong x spy reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, mob au, ceo au

word count: 33.6k

summary: you are a member of yuta's mob sent to spy on a rival mob's boss taeyong who unfortunately happens to be your childhood love that you haven't seen in a decade. when you realize he's still in love with you, and you with him, you grapple with the reality of your mission. (also includes best friend jungwoo and brief Johnny appearance)

warnings: blood, guns, gunfights, illicit activities, minor to medium injuries, physical violence, kidnapping, mentions of death, explicit sexual content, subyong and domyong and everything in between, oral (m. and f. receiving), slight hair pulling and breathplay, semi public (office) smut. healthy relationship though (besides the spying), accidental pregnancy. minors dni.

“The Scorpion?” You echo. The name is big, feared, and known throughout the criminal world, but never you thought you’d take him on.

“Yes. We need to infiltrate his base.” Your boss, Yuta, speaks busily while sifting through folders on his desk.

“That’s a bold move. He’s the most powerful mob boss in the city.”

“We have no choice. They’ve slowly been taking over our territories. I know we are big in the city as well, second only to him, but he’s too powerful to fight head on. We need to turn the tide against him before we’re nearly wiped out, and we do that by infiltrating his base.” He glances at you. “We need to get intel from there directly so we can figure out how to sabotage his operations, eliminate his members, and hit him where it hurts. Then, with the most powerful organization crumbling, we can take over.” 

You mull the idea over in your mind. It’s a good idea in theory but you can’t imagine how you can possibly put it into action. “Do you know where his base is?” He shakes his head. You snort. “No offense, Yuta, but for all your wittiness, this plan is foolhardy. Not to mention risky. How do you intend on infiltrating him? He’s smart, powerful, and hides in the shadows. No one knows who or where he is.”

Yuta smiles. “Nobody did. But I do.” He rummages through his files. 

You blink. “You managed to uncover his real identity?”

“Yes.. with a great deal of tracking and tracing through member interactions, we’re about ninety percent sure of his identity.” He seems to find the file he was looking for and pulls up a paper for view. “And I need you to go in, pose as a new recruit, monitor them for a while and then come back and report to me.”

Now, you laugh. “What makes you think they’d just let me in willy nilly?”

Yuta grins behind the paper. “Because the Scorpion knows you.” You freeze. He puts the paper on top of a deck of documents in a folder and slides the case file across the table towards you. The thick stack of papers come into view haphazardly, but the printed photo on top slides stops your heart. Familiar eyes, face, all from your memories. “His name is Taeyong.”

Your mind swirls in flashbacks. Taeyong. A childhood friend. A friend whose father was a mob boss. Your father worked directly under him and you were Taeyong’s age, so naturally, you grew up together, from elementary into high school years. It was always expected that he was to take over his father’s position. His father’s organization was far reaching, well established, and successful. Yet no one would’ve ever believed Taeyong was a mob boss’ heir. He was always kind, funny, full of life, and soft. You’d watch him fall from the jungle gym and cry, thinking he’s soft, much too soft. You wondered how he could possibly be related to his ruthless father while wiping his tears and putting a bandaid on his wound, secretly hoping his softness never went away. 

But around high school, he’d suddenly grown shy, avoiding eye contact, avoiding everything, avoiding you completely. It hurt at first and then frustrated you to no end. You’d cornered him between the shelves of the library, watching his face painted full pink, flusteredly asking you what you were doing but all you could say was you’re my best friend, please don't leave me with tears in your eyes. He’d looked shocked, then relaxed, then apologized, finally, promising he wouldn’t. Painfully, painfully ironic because the next day was the last time you saw him.The police had managed to pin your father with evidence. Your dad suddenly made you pack and leave the state before he got caught. You recall crying in the car as you drove away from your home, your friends, from Taeyong. You’ve missed him every day since, even until now. Sometimes, the inexplicable aching emptiness threatens to swallow you whole.

Since moving here to a place outside police jurisdiction, your father began working directly under another mob boss. Twelve years later, it fell to his son Yuta’s leadership, while you followed your father’s footsteps after his early passing and joined to work directly under him. 

Yuta was reasonable but strict. And when he was ruthless, he was terrifying. Fitting for what was needed in a kingpin. He used you as his weapon for many missions and was usually successful. But this.. this is beyond what you had bargained for.

“Y/n?” Yuta’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. “Do you recognize him?” You blink rapidly, eyes tracing over the very grown features of the once lanky, shy boy you saw last. The Scorpion. So, it seems that Taeyong did take over his father’s position after all. 

“Yes,” you force out, voice shaky for some indiscernible reason.

“Great,” he sighs in relief. “I heard you grew up with him. We can use this to our advantage. If you try to join their organization, hopefully high up in the ranks. He might let you in easily. Then, you can infiltrate and we’ll have our victory on our hands.” Infiltrate. Let you in. You’ll have to see him again..

“No.” The word falls from your mouth before you can stop it. “I… I can’t do it.”

Yuta’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never refused a mission before. Why not?”

“We have uh..” your throat burns. “..history” 

He raises a brow, understanding seeping into his features. “A lover?”

Your cheeks burn, and you look away. “No.. just friends.”

Yuta looks skeptical. “How long ago?”

“Twelve years.” 

“Good. That's enough time to be over him, or for him to be over you.” He continues rummaging through papers. You realize he’s going to continue with this plan. Your eyes flit back to the photograph, of Taeyong staring up at you, of memory flashes of soft, sweet smiles and blushing and butterflies. The thought of seeing him again, of betraying him…

“Yuta.” He hums in question. “I can't do it. Find someone else.”

He glares at you before scoffing. “You’re being dramatic. Just get in there, infiltrate, and get out. Find his weak points, things we can take advantage of.” Yuta drops the other papers onto the table. “I can’t find someone else to do it. You’re the only one he won't suspect since he knows you.” You hesitate. He leans forward. “You’re telling me that you’d betray us, after a decade, for a boy you had a crush on in childhood?”

“Of course not!” You say, but uncertainty flares in your chest. You are fiercely loyal to Yuta. You can’t imagine betraying him for anyone else.. but this is different territory.

“Good. All you have to do is remember your allegiance and get intel and come back in a month.”

A month.. you will have to interact with taeyong for a month. “And how will I join them if I don’t know where their base is?”

“Easy. You talk to their recruiter.” He says, filing all the papers back into the folder. “I had one of our guys spread the word around about a daughter of a former mob member who has great skills for illegal activities. It’s only a matter of time before they call you.”

You snort. “Wow, you even gave them my phone number?”

“I don’t need to. They’ll trace you on their own.” He answers distractedly, gathering the files. “Why don’t you take the next week off? I don’t want you here when they trace your number and location. Maybe hang around in a coffee shop or something?”

You watch him, nerves creeping up. “You’ve really planned this out, huh? What if I had said no?”

He glances at you. “Remember, this is our only chance to take down the Scorpion and ensure our success for years. I’m not going to waste it. Besides,” he smiles, plopping the files into a near pile on the table. “You never had a choice anyway.”

...

You begrudgingly visit coffee shops, parks and other public places the next week and stay away from Yuta’s base. Sure enough, you get a call from a private number.The man on the other end identifies himself as a recruiter for an illicit organization. The recruiter’s voice was rich and sweet, like molasses or honey. You find yourself enjoying listening to it. He calls himself Jungwoo and says that he heard about you through his connections, that he knew your father worked for this group a long while ago, and that they’d love for you to work with them. You try to sound interested and accept, feeling your stomach churn all the while. You are that much closer to seeing Taeyong after over a decade. He tells you to go to a specific location in the city from where he will pick you up. You follow his directions and within an hour, you’re climbing into a sleek black van with a young, handsome man and driving down the highway.

“We know about your father. He was a well respected man. It’s a shame what happened,” he recounts.

“Yeah, a shame.” You reply distantly, your mind only on the idea of seeing Taeyong after all these years and spy and subsequently betray him. Your stomach churns more.

“Were you okay after that? Did you go into hiding?” 

“Uh.. yeah. The police never managed to catch my dad once we left this area.” You are careful to leave out the part where you got involved with another mob, unknowingly the rival of Taeyong’s.

“That’s good. It’s nice that you can return here now.” He smiles at you. You inspect him. Is everyone working under Taeyong going to be this nice? 

“When I join.. do you know what position I’ll be or… or who I’ll work under?”

He hums in thought. “Well, since you’re a fresh recruit, you’ll be at the bottom of the hierarchy. Give it a few years and you’ll work your way up. You may even work directly under the boss.”

A few years? You will never get valuable intel for Yuta while working as a simple recruit. You need to be higher up than that to get valuable information. The gears in your mind turn until you play the only card you have. “Is there a Taeyong there?”

Jungwoo freezes, eyes flitting to you suspiciously. Nobody is supposed to know who the boss is, so you’re hoping to play it off like a coincidence “Taeyong? How do you know him?” He asks guardedly. 

“We were friends when my father worked directly under his father. I was wondering if he was still here.” Jungwoo’s brows furrow, and you explain further. “Yes, we grew up together.”

Jungwoo gives you a once over before carefully acquiescing. “Yes.. there might be someone like that there. I’ll have to double check our members’ list when we get inside. We’re almost here anyway.” He pulls the car into the lot of a large building that looks like a typical financial office building. Jungwoo parks his car and takes you through the doors, past reception and towards the elevators. The lobby is filled with people who look like office workers, dressed in formal wear and carrying briefcases and files. You figure it’s a nice camouflage for the real happenings of this building. Yuta’s group is mainly hidden underground in the slums and didn’t need this much of a cover. Once in the elevators, you both go to the highest floor. Upon stepping out, you catch sight of the floor to ceiling windows in the hallway. You can see the entire city’s skyline from here. Jungwoo leads you to an empty office room with some chairs and tables. “Please wait here. I’ll uh… check if Taeyong is here and knows you.”

“Okay,” you say, watching him leave. The moment the door shuts closed, your heart begins pounding. You’ve rarely been nervous before, not even during missions or shootouts. But this is different, so wildly different, you don’t know how to behave. You settle for focusing on the stunning view outside the window in order to ground yourself. Not even five minutes later, the door swings open abruptly. You whirl around to see two figures standing in the doorway, making no effort to come inside the room.

One is unmistakably Taeyong, dressed in a suit and hair carefully combed back from his face. His face, that he grew into after all these years, makes your heart come to a stop. His eyes are the same, big and wide and wonderful, even wider now with the shocked expression he wears, along with his parted mouth. His hand is still clamped around the door knob as if it's an anchor to reality. He stands there motionless, eyes running over you in disbelief. Jungwoo stands behind him, slightly bewildered at his reaction. “Y/n?”

Similar shock and disbelief well up inside you. Your churning stomach turns into a butterfly garden. “Taeyong…”

Junwoo watches the exchange before stepping back into the hallway. “Okay.. I.. think I’ll just stand outside.” He disappears from behind Taeyong who dazedly steps into the room. He looks so grown and handsome, with the same eyes you’ve always known.

“Jungwoo asked me… if I knew a Y/n…” he says, his voice so familiar even after a decade. “All I did was just run over here…” He steps forward carefully towards you until he’s standing in front of you. With him so close, your stomach turns into a bursting mush of butterflies and tingles. With his dark eyes drinking in every feature of your face, you barely recall where you are and why you came here in the first place.

“I… It’s been a while,” you manage out.

He blinks, as if registering your voice. “Yes. You’re... grown up,” he flushes. “You’re beautiful.” Your face burns, and burns again when his lips fall into a fond smile, eyes running over your features.“I missed you,” he breathes out. You find yourself  sucking in a breath. “Can I hug you?”

You pull him into you without a word, arms wrapping tightly around him. He melts immediately, hands pressing you closer against his chest. You sigh in the embrace, head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” you say, voice cracking a bit this time. The daily, inexplicable longing you’ve felt for a decade has all been washed away in this moment. He squeezes you tighter, nosing your hair, so warm and safe in your arms that you never ever want to leave. It's a minute or two before he reluctantly lets go with a warm smile. He still looks so soft, just as in childhood, and it’s hard to believe you’re hugging a kingpin of a criminal empire.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He touches your face again, gently. “Were you just recruited?” You nod, pressing your cheek into his hand. “Ah,” he blinks. “Jungwoo?” He calls. The man steps through the open door, eyes taking in the close distance between you two. “She’ll be working directly under me. Give her clearance to everything.”

Your brain grinds to a halt while Jungwoo looks skeptical. “Will she go through the initiation?”

“Not needed.” Taeyong turns back to you, eyes softening. “Her father worked with us for many years. No doubt she’ll be just as loyal as him.”

Jungwoo furrows his brows and looks as if he’s about to say something. Then, he stops himself, says “yes, Boss” and walks out the door, closing it behind him. Taeyong doesn’t pay any mind. He’s still gazing at you, smiling.

“So.. Boss huh?” 

He smiles, shrugging. “It took some getting used to.”

“For a kingpin called the Scorpion, you still look like the soft boy crying on the playground.”

He grins playfully. “Do I?” You nod, chuckling. “I’m glad you still remember.”

“Of course I remember. I remember everything about you.”

A light pink settles on his cheeks and you know you’re right; take out the title and he’s still the same boy you knew. “Listen, we actually have a meeting right now with my staff. I want you to join.”

And suddenly you remember why you’re here, how this is a supposed golden opportunity as Taeyong’s mob’s rival, and your heart bleeds in pain. “Ah.. is it really okay for me to join without an initiation?”

“Of course,” he answers easily, trusting, always too trusting. He hesitates and seems to gather courage to raise his hand and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Your stomach bursts into a mess of butterflies once again and you hold your breath, not daring to move. His eyes are soft and you find yourself mesmerized. “You’re already part of this family, just as your father was.”

You grow unbearably soft, forgetting even the guilt as you gaze silently back at him. He does the same, and the air shifts in the silence. He looks like he’s about to say something before someone knocks on the door. “Boss, the meeting is starting,” Jungwoo’s muffled voice sounds through the door.

Taeyong blinks himself back to the present and smiles warmly at you. At that moment, you know more than anything that you don't deserve him. “Come on, let’s go.”

...

The meeting is held in a large room at the end of a hallway that is covered in crystal clear, floor to ceiling windows. You marvel at just how much money this organization must be bringing in compared to Yuta’s. No wonder he wants to take down this group so badly. As soon as you enter, all eyes are on you. A dozen men and women are dressed in suits and formal wear, as if this were no different than a business conference. You have to admit, they play their front well. Taeyong enters behind you and closes the door before standing in front of the room. “Everyone, this is our new member.” He gestures to you and introduces your name. 

You feel self conscious as skeptical eyes burn into you from around the room. Given your experience with mobs and their initiation process, no new member should be joining the ranks so high up in the hierarchy, let alone be introduced directly by the boss himself to the inner circle. None of these people should know you yet. You should even be here in this room. And from their questioning glances at Taeyong, they know this too. Taeyong is either oblivious or ignores them by the time he’s done introducing you. You smile and bow slightly before awkwardly shuffling into the back of the room, out of sight, with everyone’s eyes following you all the way. 

Taeyong seems to ignore the confused glares and questioning glances and starts the meeting. He outlines high level happenings of the organization, just as a CEO would for a corporation. You watch him confidently explain plans, ask questions to different people, and instruct them on what to do. It’s a marvel, and so different from who you knew in childhood. You take in his frame, dressed in his blazer and black button down and with matching trousers. A kingpin indeed. After giving instructions specific to each person on how to execute the phases of their next operation, he dismisses the group and everyone shuffles out. Soon, he stands alone at the front of the room, peering at the laptop screen sitting open on the table.

You saunter over to him. “You didn’t give me any orders, Boss.”

He looks up suddenly, a little startled, then seems to register your words. You catch the slightest glimpse of a blush before he looks down and rubs his hand across his mouth, obscuring his cheeks. “We uh… may need help identifying possible locations of a big shipment dropoff. You can work with Jungwoo on that. He’ll let you know what to do.”

You notice how he avoids your eyes. “Is that an order?” His eyes stay trained on the laptop, hands moving up from his mouth to scratch the back of his neck.

“Uh huh.” He suddenly catches you trying to hold back a laugh and sighs, ducking his head. “This feels strange. I don’t like giving you orders.”

“I’m just like everyone else.”

He looks at you like he’s about to protest but looks down again. “You aren’t,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

And if that didn’t make your chest hurt with an absurd amount of heart flutters, you would be lying. You watch him silently, not knowing what else to say. “I’ll get right on it, Boss.”His cheeks seem to tint that much more as you leave the room.

...

You’re supposed to be collecting intel, not helping them, you try to remind yourself as you find Jungwoo’s desk out on the main floor of cubicles. He greets you and pulls up a chair beside him in front of his computer monitor.“So, how was your first day?” He smiles as you settle in.

“Not so bad. I think the skeptical looks will take some getting used to.”

“They’ll warm up. Your situation is unusual, after all,” Jungwoo comments. “I’m surprised how quickly you’ve adjusted without skipping a beat. Almost as if you’ve been working for another organization all along,” he jokes. You laugh nervously. “Speaking of unusual, Taeyong seems to .. like you.” He eyes you inquisitively.

“Yeah. I’ve known him for a while. We didnt get to have a proper goodbye the last time we saw each other.”

“I see,” Jungwoo nods. “So were you together? Back before…”

“Oh no, we weren’t,” you shake your head. “Just friends.”

He squints, smiling. “Really? Because you two seem awfully close. I’ve actually never seen him like this before. I’ve been working closely with him for a while now and he has a tendency towards being on the softer side but he is never not strict and can be ruthless when needed. That’s how we become so successful. But with you, all that seems to melt away.”

You can’t imagine Taeyong being ruthless. Ever since childhood, and even until now, he’s been nothing but sweet and kind in everything that he does. “I think he’s just sentimental,” you wave it off. “It’s been twelve years, after all.”

Jungwoo doesn’t seem to buy it. “Whatever it is, it’s only a matter of time before he starts showing favoritism towards you and everyone will take notice. Actually, he already has shown favoritism, and everyone has taken notice.”

Your cheeks burn. You were supposed to not draw attention to yourself. “If you’re talking about letting me in without going through initiation, I think that was just a one time thing. I’m sure from now on, I’ll be treated just like everyone else. No special attention here.” 

Jungwoo is about to say something before a woman approaches his desk, calling your name. “Boss wants to see you in his office.”

Jungwoo gives you an insufferably knowing look. You ignore him and follow the lady. She guides you down the main floor of cubicles and towards the end of the hallway with large wooden double doors. It’s clearly the room of someone important. She drags open one heavy door by the long vertical handle and ushers you inside. You step tentatively through and balk at the scene before you. Taeyong’s office is massive - as big as a house. The ceilings are two stories tall. On the left wall, there is a main desk area in front of three bookshelves and various art decor. An armchair sits behind the large desk made of some fancy high caliber wood. On the right, there is a seating area with leather couches and chairs upon an expensive looking, misshapen- shaped rug. Of course, there’s a marble fireplace on the right wall to top it off.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you step in. Yuta would be fuming with jealousy if he saw this.

You hear a chuckle. You didn’t even notice Taeyong standing by the back end of the room, given that the size of his office completely dwarfs him. He walks towards you with a wine bottle in hand. “Do you like it?” He smiles. “It’s my favorite room in the whole building.”

You step further into the room, taking in even more details you didn’t see at first glance. The leather of the armchair, the carved ivy detailing on the fireplace, the nameplate on his desk that looks suspiciously like it’s made of gold. “Yeah, I can see why.”

He grins again, motioning to his wine glass. “I was thinking we can catch up over wine. We barely had a chance to talk today. And we have twelve years to cover.”

You smile slowly and nod. “Sounds like a great idea.”

Within twenty minutes, you two are laughing over sloshing wine glasses and reminiscing excitedly over old memories. “I could not believe you,” he laughs, filling your glass again.

“I just wanted to know what riding on a bus felt like!” You protest, lifting the glass just as he was done pouring to take another sip.

“But you got on the bus with no ticket at eight years old?” He gazes at you, wide eyed.

“I was curious what a bus would be like! I’m pretty sure the bus driver thought I was one of the other passenger’s kids when I came on so he didn’t bother with the ticket.”

He struggles, laughing between breaths. “How long did it travel before you started freaking out?”

“Like ten minutes.” He laughs louder, hitting his hand on the desk you both are leaning against. “I demanded to be let off. I realized I didn’t know any of those people or where I was going. It was a good thing the bus stopped near your house.”

“I remember you rang the door crying,” he giggles, sipping his glass. “I figure being so rich really does inspire curiosity in such everyday things.”

“Yeah, with all that untaxed money our fathers made from illegal activities, we missed out on a lot of everyday things, so I was completely justified.” You emphasize, watching him laugh again. You smile giddily, feeling energized and oddly proud you can make him laugh so much. 

“Of course you were,” he acquiesces easily. 

“Our fathers were always busy but do you remember how they’d just drop us off at one of our houses or the other when they needed to go to work?”

“Oh yeah, those playdates were fun.” He smiles, eyes distant. “You were genuinely my only friend back then.”

You protest with a noise before you even finish drinking from the glass. “That’s not true! Remember your ninth birthday party with all our classmates?”

He scoffs before taking another sip, his smile fading. “Yeah, classmates, not friends. Remember that one kid blew out my birthday cake candles before I could? And I just broke down in tears?”

“Oh no, I do remember.” You recount your sadness while watching your friend crying and then the burning anger your nine-year-old self felt afterwards. “Oh and then I-“

“Then you took a chunk of the cake and shoved into that kid’s face,” Taeyong laughs brightly. “You got in so much trouble. And you ruined the cake, but that made my day.” You giggle, remembering the lecturing by multiple parents and the annoying kid crying into his mother’s skirt with pieces of cake still smeared on his face. All that mattered to you though was that Taeyong was smiling through the entire aftermath.

“I didn’t like that kid anyway. He teased me on the playground every day, yet my mom invited him.”

You frown. “I hated him for that.”

He looks at you fondly. “I know.”

You flush a little bit under his gaze, then straighten up and blame it on the alcohol. “Remember middle school and high school and how awkward we got?”

Yong suddenly grows shy and scratches his neck. “Ah yeah… I regret those days.”

“Puberty does wonders,” you roll your eyes before looking at him pointedly. “And our peers not minding their own business while being extremely heteronormative and interrogating any co-ed friendship throughout the entire school,” you point your glass at him. “Which ultimately led you to completing ghosting me freshman year.”

Yong waves his wine glass in apology, approaching you. “I’m sorry! People wouldn’t leave me alone! Besides.. you were ah..” he trails off, looking to the side as he always does when he's embarrassed. You mentally note again how difficult it is to believe he’s a mob boss. 

“I was what?” You press lightly.

“You were becoming really pretty and.. uh.. I.. was a toad,” he sighs.

You laugh out loud, reaching out to hold his hand in comfort. “You were not!” 

“I was! Do you even know what fifteen year old boys look like?” He shakes his head as he comes to stand before you. “All the wrong proportions.”

You shake your head, smiling giddily at the wine flowing through your system. You set your glass down onto his desk and tug him closer by the shoulders. “You were perfect,” you say purposefully, but don't miss the way a flush rises to his cheeks. Whether it's from the wine or your words or both, you can't tell. “Remember when I cornered you in the library sophomore year?”

His eyes widen. “Yes! I couldn’t tell if you were going to punch me or kiss me.”

You laugh again. “But instead I cried and said I missed you and asked you to talk to me again.”

Taeyong chuckles, eyes growing sober. “Yeah. And I promised to. But the next day..”

“Yeah, the next day.. I left.” Silence fills the room. The muscles of your face are slightly tired from all the smiling. You realize you’ve barely registered how close Taeyong has come to stand in the midst of talking. Your hands are still on his shoulders. His smile fades away until now there's an intense look in his eyes.

“I missed you, Y/n.”

Your chest aches. “Me too. I missed you too.” His eyes dart between yours, and find yourself falling into them. They are the same sparkling, wondrous, soulful eyes you've always known, which have always looked at you like this. It's when these eyes dart to your lips that your mind stops working. A burning, fluttering sensation erupts in your stomach like it did when you were back in middle school, being questioned by your friends on if you were in love with Lee Taeyong. You register him leaning a bit closer. His nose nudges yours, hands slide around your waist, and his hot breath fans your mouth. You subconsciously tighten your grip on his shoulders, your heart rate speeding up, your stomach twisting into knots. All you have to do is angle your head up…. 

Your lips barely brush his before a loud knock erupts from the double doors. Both of you freeze and are ripped back into reality. “Boss? Something just came up. We need you in the meeting room.” A muffled voice sounds through the door. 

Your hands retract from Taeyong’s shoulders with heat crawling across your face. His hands slip from your waist in return, his head falling forward in disappointment before calling out, “I’ll be right there.”

You clear your throat, cheeks burning. “I should go. Unless you need me for whatever that is.“

He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his mouth like he does to hide his blush. “No no, you go on home. I don’t want you to be overworked on your first day.”

You gaze at him. He looks a bit put out and avoids all eye contact, frowning. You briefly wonder if he even enjoys being a mob boss. You lean up and kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He brightens up considerably, a smile blooming back onto his lips, eyes sparkling once more. “Yeah.. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

...

You return home in the evening, mentally replaying every single moment of that day. You swear your heart feels lighter than it has in years, as if the answers to all your life questions have been found. The world around you even seems to be a bit more colorful and you find yourself enjoying the walk from the parking lot to your apartment. You lightly smack your head. “Oh god, what am I doing? I’m a member of the mafia, not a giddy high school girl in love.”

Were you in love? Your cheeks burn, remembering how you shamefully melted at every single thing Taeyong did and said today. You even threw all caution to the wind and almost kissed him. You force yourself back to reality with a pounding heart. You really don’t want to know the answer to your question. You spot something in front of your doorstep and find a small cardboard package addressed to you from an unknown address. You step inside your apartment and rip open the cardboard flaps, revealing a brand new cell phone with a note. It reads: Activate this. Don’t take this anywhere outside your house. So, Yuta sent you a separate untraceable phone with which you can contact him to provide intel. You loathe how smart that man is. Groaning, you plop onto the couch and activate the phone.  As soon as it’s set up, you receive a call. “Hello?”

“Missed me?” Yuta’s voice sounds from the other end.

You rub your forehead. “You tracked my location to figure out when I came home so you could call me?” 

“Yes but mainly so I could find out where the Scorpion’s base was,” you hear him smiling on the other end. “And now I do, thanks to you.”

“Great,” you say sarcastically. Now Yuta knows where the headquarters are. You’re not sure if that’s good. 

“So?” He prods. “Tell me everything.” You hesitate and then relay to him how you were accepted without initiation and are working directly under Taeyong. You feel dirty while doing it, knowing you’re nothing but a weapon to Yuta for selling out a man who completely trusts you. “Good. Very good. Keep doing this until you collect enough information that we can use to really hurt them.”

“…Alright,” you say tiredly. There’s a glaring silence from the other end. You sigh and adjust your tone.  “Yes, Boss, I’ll get right on it.”

“Good,” he says before hanging up. You toss the phone across the cushion, feeling disgusted. What are you doing? How can you do this to Taeyong? You bury your head in your hands, mulling over your reality. At the same time, Yuta and his father helped you and your family when you had no one. You feel guilty if you don't do as he says, as if you were caught between two impossible choices.

You don't sleep well that night. 

...

You return to the office the next day. Jungwoo texted beforehand asking if you needed a ride to the office but you figured you could take your own car. Once you’re inside the building, it amazes you again just how much like a typical financial office space the entire place looks. People are busy with files and documents, rushing this way and that in their business clothes, meetings are held in conference rooms, and telephones ring throughout the floor. What a mask for the sheer amount of illegal activities happening here. You find Jungwoo seated at his desk, working away already. He greets you with a smile and a pat to the chair next to his. You vaguely remember you’re supposed to be helping him pick locations for some shipment dropoff. 

“Shall we pick up where we left off yesterday? You know, before the Boss whisks you away again?” He grins, teasingly. “By the way, I saw you leaving the office yesterday looking very flushed.”

Yesterday's memories flash through your mind, of the laughing and flushed cheeks and that almost kiss. You clear your throat abruptly. “We were just drinking wine and catching up.”

He grins into his coffee mug, swinging his chair a little to face his computer screen, not believing you for one second. You sigh and begin your work, asking plenty of questions when you need to. Jungwoo is kind and explains everything, their operations, clients, alliances, even the hierarchy of the organization itself. It’s a wealth of intel and you loathe it. You loathe having to know and learn things from people who trust you. You dread having to report it to Yuta. Your resolve in this “mission” falters by the day and you’re not sure your loyalty can last this week.  

You barely see Taeyong today. You only catch a glimpse of him talking to a subordinate in the hallway before disappearing into his office. Whatever came up yesterday must have made him very busy. You try not to deflate. Once the day ends, you bid Jungwoo goodbye, give one last glance at the hallway to Taeyong’s office and head home. You don’t get a call from Yuta that night. After all, he made it clear that you are expected to call him and report any new intel you receive, but you don't have it in you today, or for any day for that matter. The evening passes by uneventfully and you fall asleep in your bed. 

...

Like a dutiful employee, you return to the office the next day and the next, slowly getting used to the daily routine of the organization. You even begin to enjoy it. You are given the easiest tasks and are often paired up with Jungwoo, who you already know and who readily helps you understand things. You wonder how many new initiates were afforded the same privilege upon joining. Taeyong even invites you to his office again a few times this week for more wine and story time sessions. You’re happy to see him, but this time, you’re careful to keep a distance and not drink too much lest you repeat what almost happened the other night. Kissing him would make things… complicated, even more than they are now. You're not sure you’ll go back to Yuta if you do, no matter how much you want to kiss him. Taeyong seems to notice your distance and keeps a respectful space. You try not to feel disappointed that he does.

From the outside, it becomes evident that everyone else views you differently. They either avoid you completely or are overly respectful and almost treat you as their boss. You ponder Jungwoo’s words earlier, that everyone will take notice of Taeyong’s favoritism of you. The regularly scheduled rendezvous office sessions with their Boss probably aren't helping. You wonder if your preferential treatment will invite resentment from anyone. So far, everyone has been respectful to you, but by the end of the week, you get your answer.

You get your answer to two things, actually. One, your preferential treatment definitely does invite someone’s resentment. Two, you couldn't imagine Taeyong being ruthless. You said that before today. On the way to Taeyong’s office one day for another meet up, one of the male employees lingers behind you, the same one you’ve seen around with a perpetual stink eye and a bad attitude. You don’t recall exactly what happens, only that he’s spitting insults at you as he follows that steadily grow to shouting. 

“Outsider!” He shouts. “You didn’t even go through the initiation and you’re on more classified projects than I am!? Hell, you’re probably making more money than me.” You shoot him a glare without a word. You’re almost to Taeyong’s office. The brute will leave you alone then.

“Doesn’t even have the decency to turn around,” he growls. “Fucking bitch.” Then, his hand is in your hair, yanking you backwards sharply against his chest. The pain is like needles shooting throughout your scalp, stars and tears bursting from your eyes. Despite the shock, your training kicks in immediately, and you elbow him in the ribs so that he keels over. He lets go of your hair, giving you the chance to turn around and go for a kick to the chest.

You don’t have a chance to do anything else before someone is throwing him off of you. He’s knocked into the wall of the hallway before he falls down. Taeyong is bent over him, clutching the man’s jacket until his knuckles turn white to lift him partly off the ground. He is absolutely furious, something you have never ever seen before, yelling something that you don't register. Then, he punches him in the face. Other people are shouting and running down the hall towards you three. Taeyong’s eyes are hard, jaw clenched, his fist cocked and pulled back as if to punch the man again. You step forward, hands finding his shoulders and stepping him away from the man groaning on the floor. Taeyong’s eyes are cold and glaring.

“I want him out!” He shouts, uncharacteristic, pointing past your shoulder. “I want him stripped of everything, all clearances, documents, his name on everything. I want him out of here and dropped at a police station! He can rot in jail for all I care!” People rush to do his bidding, restraining the groaning man and lifting him off the ground. An ugly bruise is already forming on his cheek where Taeyong punched him. You tug him into his office and shut the large door closed. The commotion and noise from outside is muffled here in the silence of his room. Taeyong however is still restless. His chest is heaving in anger, jaw clenching as he paces back and forth. He’s clutching his one fist, which seems slightly swollen. 

“That fucking pig.” He growls, taking you back. You’ve never even heard him curse before today. “What the hell was he thinking!? Putting his hands on…” he focuses on you, softening. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Of course he hurt you, I saw him-“ his voice wavers before becoming harsh again. “I swear to God I will-“

“Taeyong, hey, look at me,” you reach for his arms to stop him from pacing. He stops moving and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. In the next moment, he exhales and opens his eyes to gaze at you, his stunning eyes that you’ve loved for years. Your heart softens. You don’t want him to be in such pain. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this,” he mumbles.

“Well, he got what he deserved. You just beat me to the punch.” 

“It’s not that. I’m not this jittery or restless. I’ve dealt with worse than these kind of people before. I would’ve instructed someone else to restrain him but when I saw that it was you, I…” he trails off, eyes growing unfocused.

“Are you okay?” You cup his bruised hand.

His eyes flit back to you. “You’re asking me?” He releases another breath, thinks for a moment and shakes his head. “No I’m not,” his voice wavers.

You push forward and hug him gently. You wonder if it’s been a long time since he’s lost his composure. “I’m okay. I'm here and I'm okay.” You can feel him trembling against you and slowly relax, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tightly against him. Then he gives in, inhaling your scent and burying his face in your neck. 

“You’re okay,” he repeats, a bit shakily. You’re taken aback about how absolutely undone he is, how worried, how much he cares for you. It might even be a trauma response from you disappearing from his life all those years ago without a word.

A lump forms in your throat. “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shoulder. He pulls away in confusion, his wonderful eyes roaming your face in question. “Not for this. I’m sorry I left. I.. must have put you through so much pain.”

His eyelids flutter, arms around you squeezing tighter. It’s ridiculously comforting. “That wasn’t your fault.” You stay silent, tucking your chin back onto his shoulder, heart feeling heavy. “I’m sorry for what that pig did to you.” His voice is harsh, and you can feel his jaw clenching against your shoulder. “He was always a shady guy, harassing other members.” 

You pull away slightly. “It's okay, it's not my first time.” He looks at you with such disturbed anguish you feel bad for saying anything. “But I'm okay. I'm alright.” 

He sighs and gives you a thin smile. Then, he blinks and remembers to let you go. Your arms detangle from each other and you stand there, gazing silently, before he speaks. “I’m sure you could have taken him,” he smiles.

“Yes, I could have,” you grin. 

He smiles a bit proudly, then looks to the door. “I should.. take care of the commotion outside.”

You nod. “Sure.. and thank you.”

He looks confused then looks away, scratching his neck “You don't have to thank me. It was… well I didn’t even process what I was doing when I did it.”

You smile. “Still, I got to see another side of you.”

He flushes, looking away. “And you… you like it?”

You shrug. “I finally know why you're a mob boss.”

He smiles, his expression almost relieved, before he chuckles and takes his leave. When he disappears into the hallway outside, you feel an ache from the empty feeling of missing his arms around you. When you get home and Yuta calls, there's no information you want to give him. “What did you learn this week?”

“Nothing.”

Silence fills the room for a moment. “Are you serious? You’ve been there for a week now and there's no new info?” 

“What do you want to know, Yuta?” You snap. The deceptiveness of this mission has finally taken its toll on you. Seeing Taeyong drop everything to defend you today is enough to make you not want to help Yuta again. 

“I don’t know! Key operations? Shipment drop-offs? Members' names? Where can we hurt them the most, Y/n!?”

You groan internally, wishing you can just hang up. You remember finishing your task with Jungwoo in picking a drop off location for a shipment. You figure this is relatively harmless information to keep Yuta off your back. “They’re dropping off some important shipment for some high profile clients, probably government officials, tomorrow at eleven at the hotel on twelfth street. Maybe if you intercept them you can get that shipment and hurt Taeyong’s operations.”

“Taeyong? You’re not calling him the Scorpion anymore?”

You curse mentally. “Scorpion, sorry.”

There’s silence from the other line. “This information is barely useful but I’ll take it.” He pauses. “Do you remember where your loyalty lies?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course.”

“Good. Because the minute it changes, I’ll have you extracted from there.” He hangs up abruptly. It’s a threat. He knows your allegiance has changed. Although, it’s not as if you tried very hard to conceal that fact.

...

You decide to go in late the next day after lunch, mainly because you were tossing and turning awake all night. But the minute you walk into the office, the air is different. Everyone is tense and nervously mumbling. You approach Jungwoo at his desk who also looks more nervous than usual. You take in his bouncing leg and him peering at the computer monitor, reading an email intently. He barely notices when you slide into the chair next to him. “What’s wrong with everybody today?” Jungwoo startles at your voice, but instead of greeting you with a warm smile as he usually does, he looks at you sympathetically. You gaze at him, your smile fading. “Jungwoo, what is it?”

“Taeyong was shot.”

“What!?” you stand up so fast, the chair tips over and clatters to the floor behind you. He stands up with you, hands up in a placating gesture.

“Listen, he’s fine! He was meeting with some government officials today during our dropoff location and somehow, someone seemed to know he was there and that he was the Scorpion. They tried to take him out.” You are paralyzed, a wave of nauseas guilt hitting you all at once. “I’m not sure what followed. There was a scuffle of some kind, maybe he fought the gunman after being shot.. the details were unclear. It was a bullet graze to his shoulder and a few other injuries from the scuffle. He got checked at the hospital and they bandaged him up. He’s resting at home now. But he’s kind of depressed and won’t let anyone in, he said, though I think he’ll make an exception for you.”

Your heart flips. “Can I see him?” He nods and both of you hurriedly take your leave and get into Jungwoo’s car to drive to Taeyong’s home. His “home” turns out to be a ridiculously sized penthouse in a ridiculously sized high rise luxury apartment. “I guess the salary is good,” you mumble, peering up at the building from your window.

Jungwoo snorts. “You have no idea.” You enter the equally ridiculously luxurious lobby and Jungwoo escorts you to a special elevator that seems off limits to everyone else. “This will take you directly to his apartment.” He says, ushering you inside the elevator and pulling out a card from his wallet. “Just text me to let me know when you want me to take you home.”

You watch him scan the card against a pad and step back out of the elevator. “Thank you, Jungwoo,” you say sincerely.

He gives a nod. “Just make sure he’s alright.”

Then, the doors close, cutting off your view of him, before you’re taken directly to the top floor. With a ding, the doors open, revealing polished marble floor and ceiling. You step through hesitantly. His penthouse is much like his office, oversized and luxurious. It’s two stories tall with marble walls and floor, and a floor to ceiling window view of the city skyline in the living room that stops your breath. You wonder if he lives in this entire place alone, as you wander through the space. Somehow, you find your way to his bedroom and knock on the door. You hear a groan from the other end. “I said go away, Jungwoo, I don’t want-“

“It’s me.” Silence answers from the other side before you hear a small “come in.”Your heart leaps into your throat when you spot him lying on the bed with a bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Other cuts and bruises litter his arms and face, and probably his torso which are obscured by his shirt. Tears sting your eyes. You see people injured everyday as part of your job but this is not bearable. Even worse, this is all your fault, all because you told Yuta that intel about the drop off. Now Taeyong’s injured, and nearly died because of you. You’ve never felt so disgusted with yourself. “Oh.. oh no,” you hold back a sob as you approach his bed. 

Taeyong gazes up at you, no doubt able to see your stress. He even offers a small smile as you sit down gently at the edge of the bed, your stomach churning at the bloodied bandage on his shoulder. “I’m guessing I’ve looked better?” He smiles, though his eyes are tired. You blink back your tears, not even processing his humor. Your hand comes up to hover over his cheek. He gazes up at you with what looks like hope. You banish all doubts and gently cup his cheek, finger stroking his slightly bruised skin. His eyes flutter closed and he nuzzles your hand immediately. Your heart squeezes in pain and affection.

“Taeyong, I…” you swallow a heavy breath. What can you say? You’re sorry? Sorry for not protecting him? Sorry this is all your fault? Sorry, you were sent here as a spy to gather intel and you’ve been lying to his face this entire time? Guilt stabs at you ruthlessly, as you gaze down at this sweet boy meant for a softer life than this. Instead of speaking, you take clean cloth nearby and gently wipe a dirt smudge from his cheek. He watches you silently, his eyes like the starry night sky that you fight not to focus on. You spot a deep bruise on his wrist, and take another clean bandage to wrap around it. His hand is light in yours, his eyes watching you carefully. Once you’re done, you can't help but raise his hand to your lips and kiss his wrist reverently. His chest stutters in breath. Cuts on his fingers and the back of his hand catch your eye this time. You take another bandage and clean each one, kissing them too, one by one. His eyes turn soft, always soft when they’re on you.

“Does it hurt?” You ask softly when you’re done.

“Not anymore.” 

You flush, turning back to his fingers, stroking them gently with your own. ‘Remember how I used to put bandaids on you when you fell on the playground?”

He smiles and the butterflies take flight in your stomach. “Of course. You’d grumble that it’s not that bad while putting it on and looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like I’m the most precious thing in the world,” he says softly, “Like you love me. Like how you’re doing right now.”

You fall completely silent, the breaths halting in your chest. Wordless gazes are exchanged. Then, he reaches up with his good hand, tangles his fingers in your hair, and pulls you down to kiss him. You don’t resist and melt so fast against his lips it's almost embarrassing, but he could never make you feel embarrassed. His kiss is soft, reverent, and gentle. You sigh into his lips as he strokes your hair gently. Warmth blooms and spreads to every inch inside of you until he pulls away with soft lidded eyes. Your forehead rests on his. Both your eyes are closed with breaths mingling as you both savor the moment after so many years of waiting. Then, he kisses your forehead and your heart twists again, with guilt and love and pain and all. 

“Taeyong I…” you struggle and he notices. His newly bandaged hand comes up to stroke your cheek in comfort as he nuzzles your nose. “I’m so sorry.”

He takes it as you being sorry for his injuries, because he doesn't know. Doesn’t know you’re a traitor. “Don’t be. I was careless.”

You can’t even object and explain that he never did anything wrong. Frustration wells up inside you. “After all these years I just want to be with you.” 

It’s a careless slip, a frustrated wish voiced aloud when it was meant to be kept buried in your thoughts. But it’s too late. A light kindles in Taeyong’s eyes that replaces all the tiredness they held before. His lips lift into a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter in all ways and you realize you are doomed. You never had a chance against him.

“Then be with me.”

...

After more bandages and kisses, you don’t want to leave Taeyong, but know he needs rest. When you let him know as much, he pouts and asks you to stay. You give him a final kiss to the forehead in response and tell him you’ll be back tomorrow. He lets you go after that. Literally. He was holding onto your wrist to prevent you from leaving. 

With your heart thumping and affection running high, you give Jungwoo a call and ask him to pick you up and drop you back at your place. You thank him profusely for doing it so late in the night. When you step through the door, you spot the secret cell phone that Yuta gave you lying on the table, and feel anger rip through your body. It was Yuta. He took your intel about the drop off and sent men there to steal or sabotage it or who knows what else. When they saw Taeyong, they couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kill the boss. It’s a miracle Taeyong even made it out alive. You grit your teeth and pick up the phone. A notification pops up with 3 missed calls from Yuta. Without another thought, you call him back. It goes straight to voicemail. You figure. It’s late in the night so you decide to leave a message. As soon as you hear the beep, you growl into the phone. “The deal’s off. I can't do it and I’m not coming back.”

You hang up and pull out your own personal phone, holding the two cells side by side in your hands. Yuta’s tracking both of them. You make up your mind to have both destroyed and dumped tomorrow.

... 

You feel much freer going to work after that voicemail for Yuta and destroying both your phones. You let Jungwoo know you need a new phone and it takes no effort for him to get you one. Besides this, it takes a few weeks for Taeyong’s shoulder to heal. He misses work the entire time and rests at home. You visit him after work each day and take your own car so as to not bother Jungwoo. Most of the evenings and nights are spent changing his bandages, talking and sharing sweet kisses.

“It's nice to be taken care of,” he comments, sitting on the edge of the bed. He has a tank top and you try not to fixate on the muscles of his arms as you remove his shoulder gauze. 

“No one’s ever taken care of you while injured?” You ask, putting some ointment on his shoulder wounds. He winces a little and you give him an apologetic look.

“Well, I live mostly by myself. And I've never been this injured before. Jungwoo does have access in case of an emergency and he needs to get me. But other than that, no one knows I live here.”

You lift his arm slightly to wrap the gauze over and around his shoulder. His eyes roam your face, watching your concentrated features. “But this giant penthouse and no one ever comes by? That’s lonely. Especially knowing you,” you smile.

He smiles back before scratching his ear. “Uh, well.. I’m not entirely alone here. Sometimes my past partners would stay here.”

“Past partners?”

“Yeah.. you know, relationships.”

“Oh,” you say. Of course he hasn’t been single, you mentally note, just look at him. The thought makes you feel strange, though. You’ve missed such a huge chunk of each other’s lives but feel like you’ve known him forever. You finish wrapping the bandage around his shoulder.

“But I'm glad you’re here and not.. them or anyone else,” he manages out. “To be honest,” he laughs, looking down at his hands, the cuts having healed long ago. “I was looking for you in those people, but never quite found you.”

Your heart melts, eyes taking in the way he’s bent forward, avoiding your own. You cup his cheeks, bending over to kiss his forehead. “I was looking for you too all these years.”

He glances up and smiles slowly. “Really?” You nod. “So, we wasted our time?”

Your thumb strokes his cheek, and you watch the way his eyes flutter. “I suppose we did.”

“Well, in that case, we’d better make up for it.” He wraps his arms around your waist and tugs you into his chest so hard you both topple backwards onto the mattress.

Surprised laughter bursts from you, hands trying to push him off as he rolls you to the side and onto the bed. “You’re injured! Stop it!” you say between laughs.

He tries to prop himself on the bed with you underneath him, eyes dancing with amusement. “I'm the kingpin of the greatest mob empire. A little shoulder wound won’t - ow!” his shoulder flinches as he puts pressure on it.

Concern floods your chest. “See, I told you.” You maneuver him to rest flat on the bed against his pillow once again. “You need to rest, oh great kingpin lord of everything.”

Unbelievably, he pouts. So you acquiesce and lean over to kiss him. He hums happily, threading his hands through your hair. When you pull back, his eyes are soft. “Can you stay tonight?” You glance at his shoulder but he tugs at your arm. “Please? I don’t get sleep anyway when you’re not here.”

You swallow, gazing at his pleading eyes. “Of course.” A smile blooms on his face before he makes room for you to lie down next to him. Your body is a mess of nerves and butterflies but once you’ve settled in his soft sheets, he immediately wraps his good arm around your waist and bends forwards to kiss your forehead.

“Goodnight Y/n,” he sighs, snuggling closer. 

“Goodnight,” you echo, feeling more comfortable than you have in a long time. 

...

The next day, you wake up feeling well rested for the first time in your life. Taeyong’s body is plastered to your back, his good arm wrapped around your waist like a vice. The sunlight filters through his window blinds, falling onto his soundly sleeping face like bars of gold, and you think, just here and now, life is perfect. You’re not sure you’ve ever said that before. 

You flip over to see him. Your heart lurches at his peacefully sleeping face. He looks like an angel. You push back his hair from his eyes and lean over to press a slow kiss to his temple.

He stirs, inhaling. “Hmm, what was that for?” he asks sleepily, eyes still closed. 

You chuckle at his sleepy smile.“Nothing. You looked cute.”

He blinks open one eye. You giggle at his messy hair. “Cute, huh? I’m the mob kingpin lord of everything and you call me cute?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Hmm, definitely the cutest king for sure.”

He chuckles, reaches his arms over his head to stretch but flinches in pain, bringing his arm back down. “Ah, still sensitive.”

Worry flashes through you. “Are you sure you wanna come in today?”

“Yeah, it's been over a week and I'm feeling much better. Besides, a mob can't run without its cute boss.” He mumbles sleepily, throwing his good arm around your waist again. You gaze at him longer, your heart fluttering. It’s a slow realization that also happens all at once somehow - you want this everyday, for as long as you imagine. It grows worse the longer you stare at him. He cracks an eye open. “What?” 

It’s impossible to hold it back now no matter how much you try. “I love you.”

He grows still, both eyes flying open as he gazes at you in slight surprise. “What?”

You run your fingers through his soft strands again, pushing them away from his eyes, your heart lurching. “I love you.” Your voice is soft, almost as if you’ll shatter him.

Taeyong stares for a moment before pulling you in to kiss you, morning breath and all, but you can’t give a care in the world. When he finally lets go, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I love you too. So much.” You laugh in disbelief as he cups your cheek and presses his forehead to yours. “To be honest, I’ve been having trouble holding those words back since the first day you came here.” Love flares in his eyes. “I loved you even before this. I’ve loved you since childhood.”

You’re slightly surprised at the sting of tears in your eyes. “I’ve loved you since then too.” 

Taeyong cups your cheeks and presses short kisses again and again on your lips, saying I love you between each one. You chuckle, blinking back tears as you accept them. Then, he pushes aside the heavy comforter, and rolls you over so that he’s on top, kissing and gently stroking your hair, making your heart lurch over and over again. Soon, his short kisses become longer until your mouths are pushing and pulling like tides. You kiss until your lungs burn. When you pull back, gasping for breath, he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Y/n,” he mumbles reverently. Your fingers skit down his jaw to the nape of his neck. He shivers in response, hot breath fanning your lips. You pull him impossibly closer to you and he meets your lips again. His tongue slips through your lips this time and sends sparks through your stomach. It grazes your own tongue, and you sigh, letting yourself melt into him, his warmth and body heat, the unbelievable feeling of being in his arms, his fringes tickling your forehead, his breath fanning your face. You kiss until you can't take it anymore.

He whines a little as you pull away once again. You laugh breathily, watching him balance on his propped arms over you. “Isn’t your shoulder hurting like that?”

He gives you a boyish, lopsided smile. “Honestly, my shoulder has been hurting the entire time, but I don't care.” In horror, you try to rip away from him but he easily drags you back and pins you to the bed without so much as a retort. His fingers intertwine with yours and hold them against the pillow. 

“For a cute mob boss, you’re pretty strong,” you remark. He only grins and buries his head in your neck, pressing kisses down the skin. More electricity buzzes through your body. His kisses are hot and wet and you arch when he meets a pulse point. Your voice comes out shaky. “Taeyong, if you keep going, I won't be able to-“

“Me neither,” he answers. His voice is a different color than usual, one that you haven't heard before. It’s gravelly and rough. Combined with his body insistently pressing yours into the mattress and his kisses to your neck, your body turns into a mess of tingles and butterflies. 

His teeth nips your pulse point and you gasp, pressing your hips against his slightly. He picks up on this imperceptible movement and rolls his hips against yours with a low groan. You can feel him through his pants, and you arch and moan at the friction. Your hands clutch the cloth of his tank top from his back until it's bunched in your fist. He pulls back a small to observe your reaction, his pupils dilated.

His hand comes up to touch your face reverently. “Y/n, do you want to…”

“Yes, keep going, please.” You should be ashamed at how easily you beg, but you could never feel that way for him, especially with the way his pupils dilate and his breath comes out ragged.

“How far.. do you want to go?”

“Everything, I want everything from you,” you press your head to his, feeling strangely emotional. “I just want you, please.” He seems still for a moment, gorgeous dark eyes boring into yours. The uneven breaths fill the silence, as if he were savoring this moment. Then he reaches down , fingers slipping inside your pants, and pressing your clit through panties. A moan falls from your lips, your hips arching towards his touch. His dark eyes drink in every reaction. Then, he moves to suck your neck again and you’re clutching his tank top harshly as he works your clit, moaning into his ear. You have half a mind to drag his tank top half way up his chest until he gets the idea and pulls away from you. He sits up, slipping it over his head, and tosses it to the side, revealing his bare skin with tattoos littered here and there. When he falls back to you, carefully supporting his injured shoulder, you drag him in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful.”

He moans slightly into your mouth, tongues meeting again before pulling away. “I can say the same for you.” He eyes your shirt. “Can I?”

“Yes,” you manage out.

His lithe hands peel your shirt up and over your head. His eyes roam over your torso with a bated breath as you sit up a little and undo your bra. It’s a few seconds of awed silence once you lie back down before his hot mouth planting on your nipple. You arch and moan loudly, your eyes clenching shut. “Oh god.”

He strips your pants and underwear from you in one movement. His hand returns to your clit though this time, his finger slides into your core, stretching your walls. A moan tumbles from your lips as he comes up to press kisses to your face. “My love,” he calls gently as you moan again, “my Y/n.” Sparks fly behind your eyes in your pleasure. Your head presses back against the pillow and you let out a particularly loud moan. Then, he rips his hand away as well as his mouth and you’re left teetering, then coming back down the way you came, unsatisfied. You let out a whine but he sits up, panting harshly, grabbing a condom from the drawer in his nightstand and settles back between your legs. He gives you another kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your heart thrums each time you say it. Then he’s slipping inside you, stretching you until your eyes flutter closed. You’re full and you realize this is how you've always belonged, how you were always supposed to be. He thrusts slowly, lips hovering over yours or pressing all over your face, his eyes fluttering when you squeeze around him. You realize this is different from all the other partners you’ve ever been with. It feels like he fills you with life , every second he looks at you or smiles or walks into a room, he fills you with purpose.

You live for his moans, unabashed and light and airy and beautiful. It makes you lose yourself so much faster. His lithe hands clutch the bedsheets beside you, lips grazing your neck, hair tickling your face. You realize you want him all the time, near you all the time, you want this forever. You memorize everything, his touch, his scent, his features screwed up in the pleasure you give him. You’d give him anything. You memorize him until he hits a spot inside you that has your brain coming to a halt. He notices easily, lifts one of your legs to hook over his good arm, and hits it again, much more intense this time, until you're shivering and arching, your mind turning to mush. Sweet praises fall from his lips as he pushes into you. You’re perfect, you’re so beautiful, my love.

My love. 

You contract around him like a vice, burying your head in his neck, muffling the moan bordering on a scream as you come apart. He shivers as your nails dig into his back and halts his movements until your walls grant his cock mercy enough to move again. He finishes the last few thrusts until he's pressing deep inside you with a loud groan, and you vaguely think you wouldn’t mind hearing that sound forever. He collapses on top of you, panting and breathing harshly but you couldn't care less about his weight squeezing you. Your hands tiredly comb through his hair, littering kisses along his forehead while he catches his breath against your chest. Pleasure brims and hums through your body and mind as you relish the feeling of him in your arms. After a few beats, he lifts his head up just enough to kiss you. “I love you.” 

You smile, brushing back his sweaty fringes. “I love you, too.” You’re rewarded with a beautiful smile before he rests his head back on your chest. “Wait, wasn’t your shoulder hurting this entire time?” 

He makes no effort to move. “Yes, but I didn't care.” You groan and he only chuckles against your skin.  

...

You end up going a little late to work that day. Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind, though. He seems content enough to brush his teeth with you, shower, change into office clothes, grab breakfast and drive you to work in his car, even though you have your own parked in the garage. You’re guessing it's the inkling of domestic bliss that’s keeping a smile on his face and making him leisurely savor each mundane moment with you this morning. As for you, it’s something you never knew you needed. It’s easy to imagine a life like this and only this, with none of the complications. Taeyong looks over at you in the passenger seat with a smile, bright eyes, so many times during the drive to the office that you’re laughing. “What is it?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, turning back to the road again. “Nothing.” You let it go, but your heart flutters. Once you step through the lobby, the busy chatting stops and are replaced by jeers of welcome aimed at Taeyong after his week’s absence. Soon after, though, their curious eyes are trained on you. It’s obvious you came in the same car together and therefore probably from the same place since you usually drive yourself. If anyone had any suspicions before about you both, they definitely know for sure now. Once you and Taeyong enter the elevator, he pulls you close and kisses you once again. “I love you,” he smiles.

You laugh, adjusting his tie. “I love you too. Not tired of saying it?”

The way he looks at you, eyes half lidded, an amused smile across his lips as if you’re the most perfect thing in the world, makes you feel foolish for even asking. “No. And I never will be.”

Your heart flutters, biting back your smile. “Me neither.”

He grins this time and kisses your forehead. Then, he deflates a little. “I wont see you much today.” His fingers brush a lock of your hair. “But maybe by the end of the day, you can swing by my office?”

“Deal,” you agree, snaking your arms over his shoulders. “We'll go home together after?”

“Of course,” he smiles, leaning forward to kiss you one more time before the elevator doors ding open at the top floor. He grins again and pulls away. “I love you.”

You laugh. “I love you, too.” You go your separate ways. When you approach Jungwoo’s desk, he’s already smiling, face tilted and propped on his hand. 

“You’re in a good mood.” Jungwoo comments.

Your steps falter. “Ah.. I’ve uh…”

“No need to explain. Everyone saw you two come in together. The boss is practically bouncing with each step,” he smiles knowingly, turning back to his computer. “It’s good that he looks better though. Everyone was worried. Thanks for taking care of him.” He says, glancing up at you. “For all those days.”

Your cheeks burn. “How did you know-“ But Jungwoo gives you a look that makes you feel foolish for even asking. You plop down in the chair next to him, propping your bag against the desk. “Of course you know.”

“Actually, you might see more of him today. He has a client meeting at a high end club and I’m guessing he’ll take you as a date.”

“Really? Why does he need a date?”

He shrugs, crumpling up a piece of paper in his hands. “He doesn’t.” He throws it in the basket. “But he’ll ask you anyway.” He grins.

You watch him clean up his desk of unneeded and old documents. “You’re very perceptive of people aren't you?”

Jungwoo smiles. “It’s my job. I recruited you, remember? I find out things about people.” He says a matter of factly before changing the subject. “So, a newbie whose first mission is with the Boss himself. If no one was sure of your privilege, they’re sure now.”

You exhale, shrugging. “I'm pretty sure everyone is sure of it by now. I just hope I don't get attacked again.”

Jungwoo freezes then, concern flooding his eyes as he turns to face you. “I never asked, how are you feeling after that?”

You shrug. “I'm fine, I guess. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Jungwoo nods slowly. “Taeyong was angrier than I’d ever seen him. He made sure we removed that guy. But please know he was an outlier. People may not be the friendliest here but everyone’s generally happy to have you around.” He cups your hand in comfort, sincerity evident in his eyes. “I hope you always feel safe here.” He pauses to smile. “Even though we're an illegal organization.”

You wordlessly listen to Jungwoo, feeling strangely touched. Yuta never made you feel like this. “Thank you,” you say, and you mean it. 

He gives you a warm smile that makes you feel even softer. “Now come on, we have a lot of work to do today and many things to discuss.”

“Like what?”

“Like, did you sleep over at Taeyong’s last night?” He grins, leaning over in interest. You shove his arm, pulling peals of laughter from his lips. The rest of the day passes with jokes and work, with you secretly counting down the hours until you can visit Taeyong in his office. It seems as if an eternity passes until Taeyong himself is strolling onto the main floor and approaching Jungwoo’s desk. 

“Hey guys,” he greets. Jungwoo glances at him with a hint of surprise. You figure this is an unusual occurrence since Taeyong usually summons people to his office. “I was just wondering if I could borrow Y/n in my office for a second, if I’m not interrupting or anything.” Taeyong seems a bit hesitant.

Jungwoo shakes his head slowly. “You’re never interrupting anything. You're the Boss.”

Taeyong blinks. “R-Right…” he turns to you. “Is it okay with you?”

Jungwoo watches the exchange with growing interest. You try to ignore him and stand up from your seat. “Of course it is.”

“Great,” Taeyong says, before waving at Jungwoo, which you also assume to be unusual given Jungwoo’s perplexed expression “Bye, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo waves slightly in confusion. “Bye…?” He watches until you two disappear from sight.

Taeyong curses once you’re out of earshot. The laughter you’re holding back spills from your lips. “What was that?”

He slows enough to allow you to fall in line with his walking. “I have no idea. I just.. felt weird beckoning you to my office chamber as if you’re my maid or something.” He shakes his head. “God, Jungwoo’s going to think something is wrong with me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,” you reply, biting back a smile. So, he feels weird about you calling him Boss and also about ordering you around. It’s strangely sweet in its own way, how a man with all the power at his hands refuses to see you as anything but his equal. 

He drags open one massive door to his office and ushers you inside. Once you’re in, he shuts the door, pulls you to his chest and kisses you. “Mmm what are these for?” You ask when his long kiss dissolves into small short sweet ones littered on your lips. 

“I just missed you all day. And missed kissing you all day.” You giggle as he turns to littering kisses over your face. Your hand wraps around his tie and tugs him to you abruptly so that he can kiss you properly on the lips. He makes a soft noise that travels like electricity through your body. The kiss turns deep once again, your hands coming up to comb through his soft hair. When you pull away, your breaths are shallow and his gaze is intense. “Believe it or not, I actually have work for us to do.”

You chuckle. “Jungwoo told me. We’re going to some high end club? 

He takes a moment to gather himself before pulling away from you. “Yes, just to visit a client we’re sorting out a contract with.” 

Your nerves twist in your stomach. You remember the last meeting with a client ended in a gunfight. Your eyes settle on his shoulder, where you can still see the bandage underneath his office shirt. “Are you sure?”

He glances at you and sees the concern in your eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be safe,” he smiles reassuringly. “To be honest, I still don’t know why I was targeted that day and by whom. I’ve ordered everyone to track them down, but we haven't found any clues.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s probably a rival gang that somehow got our info.”

Your blood turns to ice. You haven’t even told him about what happened that day, about where you’re from and the truth about why you’re here. You can sell out Yuta right now. You can give Taeyong all the information and help him take down your former leader. But the words fail you and you realize that you can’t. You’ve spent a decade working under Yuta, longer than you’ve even known Taeyong. As much as you hate it, your loyalty to Yuta are your chains. You can’t rat him out. And worse, even if you do, what if Taeyong hates you? What if he sends you away and never wants to see you again? What if you have to return to Yuta? Return to a cold, meaningless life full of violence and crime, devoid of sunshine and sleepy smiles and slow mornings.

You swallow back any words and stay silent. You feel awful. You’re a liar. You never want to lie to Taeyong, ever. But you’re a coward and you don’t know what to do. Even if he doesn’t know now, he will find out the truth eventually and hate you then. Taeyong seems to notice your intense conflict and mistakes it for concern. He steps towards you, a soft smile finding his lips that nearly makes the terrible thoughts melt away. “I know you feel bad, but it's not your fault that I was injured,” he takes your hand gently in his. “Besides, I don't think any sniper will be able to find me at a strip club.”

Your whirling thoughts pause momentarily. “We’re going to a strip club?”

“It’s technically a gentleman’s club. It’s just a meeting with an old client. She runs the whole place and makes quite a lot of money from it. She wants us to protect her territory. A lot of members of the criminal underground frequent there and have been stepping out of line and making her workers uncomfortable. The security they have there doesn't intimidate these kinds of men enough. She wants mob protection, so these criminals will feel less inclined to do whatever they want.” 

You nod. “It’s an honorable cause. But if you’ve met her before, why am I coming?”

His eyes slide away from yours in embarrassment. “Because.. I’m uh… they like me over there,” he flushes a light pink, “I’ve gotten.. too much attention when I went alone in the past. I might as well show them that I'm taken.”

The image of women and probably men hanging over Taeyong as he talks business, flirting with him, their fingernails running down his chest, makes your insides twist in jealousy. Yes, you figure, you should be there. “Yes, you are taken.” You grip his tie and watch his eyes flare. You chuckle and mentally note his reaction. “So, this is our first date?”

He snorts. “At a strip club? No way. I'll plan a much better one than that.”

“I thought you said it’s a gentleman’s club.”

He laughs. “Come on, let’s head out. We’ll have to dress up a little.” You both stop by your apartment to pick up some fancy clothes and make up before driving over to his place to get ready. By time you change, style your hair, apply makeup and jewelry, the sun sets and the evening sky’s moonlight glows through the windows. When you walk into the living room and find Taeyong in a tuxedo, silver cuffs, and his hair neatly combed back, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He has a similar reaction when he spots you. “Wow.” He stares breathlessly for a moment before blinking back to reality. “Oh no, maybe I should go alone. This isn't a good idea.”

“What? Why?”

His eyes run over you once again. “Because you’re beautiful. Too beautiful. There's going to be too many sleazy criminals there. They’re already harassing the workers. They’re not going to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. I can handle myself. Besides, do you think I’m the only one who looks good? I’m not letting you go there alone looking like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too beautiful too,” you echo his words, watching him flush. Then, because you’re feeling playful and curious, you decide to push further. “And because you’re mine.” His eyes flare. You see him swallow imperceptibly. You don't know why it feels good to see him like this, but you want to do it some more. “They’ll keep away if they know what's good for them.”

His breath catches in his throat. He swallows again and seems to blink himself back to reality. “F…fine, then. Just tell anyone who asks that you’re with me and I'll say that I'm with you.”

“Tell them that I'm yours and you’re mine. Understood,” you grin.

“Ah… right,” he mumbles, unable to find a suitable reply. A pretty blush spreads across his cheeks as his eyes slide away from yours. It never fails to satisfy you. He pauses, then gently cups your face and brings you close to kiss you. He pulls away and gives you a warm smile. “Okay, let's go."

...

You know that gentleman’s clubs are just higher end strip clubs, but this one is so far beyond anything you've seen before. As you walk in, you’re hit with the sight of patrons dressed in black tie, waiters carrying flat dishes holding unknown colorful alcoholic drinks, curved leather booths scattered throughout the space, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. “I can see how this owner can afford us,” you mutter. Your arm is looped through Taeyong’s as he guides you through the area and towards the back rooms. You pass by people chatting, drinking, smoking, and eventually spot the main stage. Some dancers are already there, dressed in sparkly two pieces. 

Some of the girls passing by to get to the stage notice Taeyong and smile brightly at him. Some  touch his shoulders and arms, bat their eyelashes, give cherry lipped smiles, even though you’re quite literally hanging off his arm. You suppose your presence here doesn’t spurn any of them in the slightest. Taeyong guides you into one back room that looks like a luxurious private meeting room of sorts. An older woman adorned in jewels and a shimmering gown is seated upon an expensive looking armchair with a lit cigarette between her painted nails. A few girls stand or are seated around her. They smile and greet Taeyong when he walks in but their friendly gazes turn to questioning glares when they fall on you. It seems as if the air itself stops when you walk through the door. 

“Who is she?” the older woman asks, voice raspy probably from years of cigarette smoke. 

“She’s my date,” Taeyong answers easily.

They all eye you suspiciously. “This is the first girl you’ve brought in as a date. How long has she worked for you?”

“How is that relevant?” Taeyong counters.

The woman ignores him and glares at you. “How long, girl?”

“…A few weeks.”

Murmurs start from the girls. The older lady laughs and takes a drag from her cigarette. “And you let her in this high up already, working by your side? Ever the softie you are,” she notes. Taeyong flushes slightly. “You’re not worried she’s a spy?”

Your heart jumps. Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Of course not. And I’ve known her much longer than a few weeks. We just.. were separated for a long time.”

Her eyes narrow a bit. “That’s even more dangerous.” Her lips blow a puff of smoke. “She’s not allowed in here. That’s final.” 

Taeyong growls. “Listen, Mabel, we have a contract to sign.”

“Yes, with very sensitive content. Which unauthorized people should not be allowed to listen in on.” Her eyes coldly drag down your frame. “No matter how pretty.”

Taeyong looks like he’s about to argue but you stop him with a hand to his shoulder. “It’s fine,” you say, not wanting to complicate things. “I’ll wait outside.”

He glances at you, brows knitted. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes. It’s no big deal.” You give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and step out the door. You hear a muffled sentence from Mabel of she’s got you bad, huh? through the door before you’re walking into the buzzing scene before you.You decide to sit at the bar because you need to be alone. Mabel’s words have triggered you. You feel awful, guilty, and disgusted. You have to tell him the truth, even if he hates you forever. But what if he doesn't hate you? What if he understands, forgives, and then wants you to help him take down Yuta? You pause. How can you take down Yuta?  You spent a decade under him, working for him, being with him through good and bad times. You can't just turn against him completely. You feel stuck. You seem to always feel stuck these days and it’s making you miserable. 

“Why the long face?” You hear a rich voice behind you. It rips you from your internal monologue. It’s a tall man with dark hair, twinkling eyes and a colorful suit. He sticks out easily among the crowd. You notice he already has a drink in hand.

“Ah.. just a bad day.” You say a bit dismissively, looking back down at your drink, hoping he’ll get the message and disappear. He doesn’t.

He nods in understanding and slides into the stool beside yours. “I’m Johnny. You Yong’s girl? I saw you come in with him.”

“Uh.. Yes.”

He nods, taking a sip from his glass. “He’s never brought anyone with him here before.”

You eye him. “Do you work here?”

“Nope. I’m from my own..um… group.” He smiles. “I come here sometimes as a patron.” Right, you think, Taeyong did mention that members of other criminal groups hung out around here. It’s the reason why the owner needs protection in the first place. Johnny bumps you slightly with his elbow. “So, why are you so sad? Is he not treating you well?” He smiles easily. “You can come to our side, you know, and work as a spy. You have the look. A beautiful woman with eyes like yours, who wouldn’t believe every word that comes from your lips?” Johnny smiles into his glass. “Best part is Taeyong doesn’t have to know.”

He’s joking, but you know it's the way deals are made underground. The thought of taking him up on his makes bile rise in your throat. “No.. I don’t…” you blanch. 

He notices the look on your face. “Too loyal?” he nods in understanding. “It’s not for everyone.” he glances at you. “But you never know.” He raises a hand to touch your chin. Your reflexes get the better of you and you grip his wrist before he can touch you. 

“Y/n,” Taeyong’s voice cuts through the air, catching both you and Johnny in surprise. He’s fuming. Similar to the time when the man jumped you in the office, his expression is hard and unmerciful. “Is he bothering you?” His eyes slide to Johnny who releases a breathy chuckle and turns back to sipping his drink.

“I was actually just leaving.” You slide out from the seat and walk past Taeyong who gives Johnny a lingering hard glare before following you out the door.

Once you’re seated in his car, Taeyong grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “What the hell was he doing? I knew I never liked him for a reason.”

“He’s from another organization?” You ask.

“It's a smaller one. It operates at the outskirts of the city. They’re one of the… less moral organizations that others need protection from. They’re a thorn in our side but nothing we can’t handle.” He glances over at you, concern replacing his irritation. “Are you okay? You look.. sick.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing I… just…” you exhale tiredly. “It’s nothing.”

His worried eyes scan your face. “Is it because of what Mabel said? Don’t listen to her. I trust you with everything I have.” You gaze at him, speechless. His words make you feel infinitely worse after the night you’ve had.

When you return to his apartment, you change out of your dress like you can’t wait to get it off. Then, you mindlessly set to packing up the things you’ve left at Taeyong’s place while staying over the past few days. Taeyong watches you wordlessly, still in his suit, looking as if he’s about to say something, then changes his mind. The cycle repeats until he works up the courage. “Did you…want to stay over tonight too?”

You glance at him and try not to chuckle at his puppy face. “I would, but I have to go home and take out the trash and do the dishes and .. get new clothes,” you sigh, walking over to him. “But I’ll come visit later, okay?” Your fingers take to combing through his hair, coaxing a sigh from his lips.

“What if you moved in with me?” He says it so easily, lost in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. Your fingers pause and his words hang in the air. At your silence, his eyes fly open in panic. “Is that too soon? Of course it is. Fuck, forget I said anything.”

He so visibly retracts in on himself that you’re scrambling to reassure him. “No, no, I’m just… surprised is all.” 

He sighs almost helplessly, brows pinching in frustration. “I just see you here and .. when we spend time together, I..I want it… all the time… and nothing else,” he says heavily, grasping your hand and holding it up to his chest. His dark maroon eyes are large and heartfelt. “Sometimes I wish I just had a simple life. No mobs, no criminals, no territories or fighting. Just you and me in a house, living peacefully.”

Your eyes burn, pricking with tears. “Me too,” you whisper, unable to convey just how badly you’ve dreamt of the same dream for so long. “Me too.”

His expression is almost as if he’s witnessed a small miracle. He pulls you into the tightest hug, as if he can’t hold you close enough. You breathe him and relish the weight of his head tucked against yours, the smell of his lingering cologne and the comfort of his arms. “We can talk about it later,” he mumbles into your neck. “Can you stay over tonight, please?”

You forget about packing. “Of course.”

...

The next day when you come into work, you spot Jungwoo sporting a new type of pistol that spikes your curiosity. You ask him to show you the features and end up seated, facing him with the gun in your hands. Jungwoo’s fingers slide against your own as he guides yours to the grip and the trigger. "The safety lock is actually here," Jungwoo points out, turning over the unfamiliar silver pistol in your hands before guiding your finger to the small button. You test the weight of the gun with both of Jungwoo’s hands cupping yours. "It's comfortable, isn't it?" He offers with warm eyes. "Yeah, it is,” you say incredulously. “I haven’t seen-” "Jungwoo." A serious voice cuts through the atmosphere. Both of you stiffen and spot Taeyong, arms crossed with hard eyes, taking in the scene before him. "Don't you have something to turn in for me?” Jungwoo releases your hands as if they were burning hot coals. "Yes, sorry Boss. I was just taking a break and showing Y/n my new gun." "Well, get on it.” His usual soft voice is hard. Jungwoo’s face drops. Taeyong’s eyes slide to you. “Y/n, can I see you in my office?” He doesn’t wait for you as he begins walking back. You and Jungwoo exchange bewildered glances as you stand to follow him. Once you step into his office, you notice that Taeyong doesn’t greet you. He leans over his desk, his hands gripping the wooden edges. “Did you.. need me for something?” You ask, perplexed by his demeanor. 

He straightens up, running his hand through his hair. “No,” he sighs, turning to glance at you. “You… you ah… you and Jungwoo…” he trails off, averting his eyes. He huffs. “You and Jungwoo…spend a lot of time together.”

You try not to laugh. “Yes, you assigned us to work together. On everything. Don’t you remember?” 

He only grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “Right.”

“Are you alright?” You test carefully.

“I’m fine,” he says curtly, turning his back to you once again to walk towards his desk. You wait for him to elaborate but he doesn't. 

“Well… if you are, could you apologize to Jungwoo later? It was kind of rude.” He glances at you and then exhales, plopping into this arm chair. He tries to speak but struggles, then seems to give up and glare at his tie. “Hey,” you say gently, following his path around the desk until you’re standing by his chair. “Tell me what’s wrong.” You touch his chin, then run your fingers through his hair that has his shoulders slumping with stress seeping out.

"I'm sorry,” he sighs, the hardness in his voice gone. “It’s just, the past few days.. with you finally being mine after so many years… but then stupid Johnny at the club was with you and then Jungwoo was holding your hands and… I just got jealous. It's silly, I know. You love me. There's no doubt about that." He mumbles, sighing. “I can’t help it.”

“Oh,” your brain processes his words. “You were jealous?”

"What else was I supposed to be?" He now lifts his face to look up at you directly. "I think of you in every moment, in every breath I take, even in every dream I have at night. And then I see you with Jungwoo.. or someone else.. and I get jealous of them, for being in your presence. Because sometimes, they’re the ones that have your eyes… or hands on them. Not me.”

You chuckle. “Even though I have my eyes on you ninety nine percent the rest of the time?”

“Only ninety nine percent?” he laughs, his smile finally appearing. “I want the full one hundred.” He twists his chair a little to bury his head in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want, Y/n. Anything in this world.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I know.” He doesn’t respond and seems deflated so you try to reassure him. “I get jealous too.”

He lifts his head to look at you. "Really? I never noticed." 

“I don’t tell you.”

He suddenly sounds curious. "Jealous of whom?"

Your cheeks burn and you look away. “I don’t know. When the women were all over you at that same club the other day. When I hear you haven't been alone all these years, that you loved someone else. It.. makes me jealous.”

Taeyong’s eyes seem to kindle with light. He stands up slowly until he’s slightly towering over you. "So.. you're jealous of my attention too.” His eyes darken only slightly, but the air shifts. "Would you prefer that I give you one hundred percent as well so that I only ever pay attention to you?”

You feel flustered at your vulnerability but provide your answer without breaking eye contact. “Yes.” 

He falls silent then. The air is still around you, growing heated as you gaze at each other, wordlessly. "What would you do if they were here right now?” His voice is low, raspier than before.

You know he wouldn’t engage; has no interest in anyone else but you, but from every previous interaction with him, you know by now he’s very into you being possessive. So, you decide to indulge him and playfully growl. You lean over and kiss his pulse point. He swallows hard. “I’d wring them away from you.” 

Your words work on him. He shivers in your arms. "What else?” he asks, his voice slightly more gravelly in your ear.

You think. “I’d also push you against the nearest wall and kiss you until you’re panting, making sure they watch.”

He grows still. “Really?” You nod. It looks like it’s the right answer. He abruptly pulls away from you with a determined look on his face. "Good. I need you. Right now. Let's.. let's go to the closest wall we can find."

You laugh out loud, following along as he pulls you away from his desk. “Which wall?" He tugs you towards one end of the room, coaxing another laugh from you.

“There is no one to watch here. Should I just kiss you against a wall?”

"Yes. Yes, that's the idea," His voice turns rough once again. He pulls you to the wall nearest his desk and turns around to face you. "Show me, love." he orders, his eyes dark with his fringes falling into them. Your throat grows tight, all your previous laughter disappearing. He leans close to you again, hand wrapping around your wrist so that you can’t back away. "I want you to show me how jealous you can get. Right now." He growls lowly. You swallow thickly, and force your limbs to move. You raise your hands, his loosening from your wrist, and press against his chest. He doesn’t break eye contact as you push him against the wall. He gasps a little when he hits the surface, eyes darkening again. You press forward to kiss him harshly. He moans as he kisses you back just as aggressively. “Yes,” he breathes shakily between kisses. “You’re so good.”

Your mouths push and pull like tides as you keep up the show. “You like this? Being shown who you belong to?”

He’s gasping between kisses, all your words exciting him further. "Oh.. god yes, I do." he breathes out. "I love it.. I love knowing that I’m yours.” He lets out a small moan. "You'll make sure that no one will steal me away from you, right?"

You kiss down his neck, nipping the skin slightly, causing him to tremble in your arms. “Yes. No one can take you from me. You’re mine.” You say the words you think will affect him most and you’re right. A pretty blush settles on his cheeks and he moans softly at your kisses. 

"Yes... no one will take me away from you because you're mine, and I'm yours,” he breathes, eyes lidded.

“Yes,” you soften, littering kisses down his jaw. “You’re mine and I’m yours.” He shivers when you undo his buttons to litter more kisses along his collarbone. You subconsciously press closer to him and feel his hardness graze your thigh. “You’re this worked up? From just my words?” You ask fondly, nipping his chest. His eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, hair falling into them.

“F-From you. I’m worked up from you,” he mumbles.

It’s endearing. You comb this hair back from his face and kiss him. “Well, it would be unfair to let you go home like this.”

His eyes seem to focus on you in confusion before you press your palm against the bulge in his slacks. He shivers against you. “Y/n-“ You press until he bites his lip. Your nimble fingers unzip his pants and slide in past the hem of his boxers to grip him. He gasps, eyes flying open. “Oh god,” he moans. You keep a tight grip as you stroke him, watching his head fall back against the wall, jaw working open. You lean forward to kiss his neck.

“Good?”

“Good… so good,” he nods. You struggle to work him with the small space you have in his boxers but he moans so beautifully even with what little you do. “Y/n,” his eyes open, half lidded, shallow breaths. You pause to look at him. “I love you.”

You soften, push forward to kiss him gently, chastely, so at odds with your hand still stroking him. “I love you too, so much.” You squeeze him gently and he gasps, breaking away from your kiss and arches against the wall, moaning, and you know you have to hear more. With a final kiss to the hollow of his throat, you drop to your knees. He gazes down at you, eyes going wide, then jaw clenching, arousal seeping into his face. You grip his pants and boxers slide them down a bit along his hips until his length is free for your undivided attention. The sight of it completely hard has arousal surging through you but a brush of his hand to your cheek breaks your focus.

He’s gazing down at you softly, arousal drenched on his face but tended by loving concern. “Are you sure?”

You take his hand by your cheek and kiss it firmly, smiling up at him. “More sure than anything.” Then he hisses as you stroke him, hard in your grip. You budge closer until your lips are right by his length and gaze at him with dark eyes. “I want you to know what I do for you and nobody else.”

All softness drains from his face and his eyes grow ravenous. He gives you a nod and you take him into your mouth. His head hits the wall, body trembling a little as your mouth engulfs him. You drag back and come forward, tongue swirling against him, slowly setting a rhythm that has you humming. His breaths grow harsh and shaky quickly, his hands combing through your hair. You relish the feeling of him, the weight of him in your throat. You want to hear him moan but one glance tells you he seems to be holding back. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes clenched shut in concentration, hand gripping your hair gently. You decide to pick up your pace and he curses, biting his lip hard. Your shallow sucks grow deeper and his length goes in further along your throat. He trembles and a low groan finally loosens from his lips. You yourself nearly moan at the sound and take him even deeper, until he hits the back of your throat. His eyes fly open and he attempts to pull back his hips, tugging you by your hair back a little to get you to slow down. “Y/n… I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You ignore him, grab his hips and shove him back into your mouth. He harshly gasps out your name and it’s everything you wanted to hear. You gaze up at him, tearing yourself from his length with great self control. “I’m in control right now, aren't I?”

He shivers at your authoritative tone and surrenders. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your stomach burns at the title and you quickly set back to work, taking him deep in your mouth. This time, he moans freely, his hand back in your hair. His soft caresses of your hair become tight, his finger curling around the strands absently as his face screws up in pleasure. Soon, he’s subconsciously guiding your head in your movements as his hips push forward to meet your mouth. It makes his length go even deeper in your throat until you have to focus more not to gag. His free moans are music to your ears, his head is tilted back against the wall, eyes clenched closed. With one particular stroke, you feel him pulse in your mouth. Then, his eyes are flying open and he tugs you off of him roughly by your hair. The sensation sparks pain and pleasure through you, coaxing a noise from your lips, which he seems to notice. He pants harshly, eyes lidded, as you gaze up at him in confusion. “I’m… too close,”. He struggles to find his composure. “I .. don't want to lose myself in your mouth.”

“Where then?” You tease as he helps you stand up. His eyes darken. 

“You’ll see.” Your breath catches as he steps forward, backing you towards his desk. “I think it’s my turn to show you how possessive I get.” His lips crash into yours and it's rough, rougher than he’s ever kissed you. You gasp as his hands grip your cheeks and hair hard, pressing you insistently against him. You feel heat pool quickly in your lower abdomen. He walks you backwards, kissing you hard until your back hits the edge of his desk and he’s towering over you. His dilated umber eyes hold you captive, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, lips parted with shallow breaths. 

“Sit.” He directs you. You obey, lifting yourself on your tiptoes and then seating yourself on the wooden edge. Then, he kneels, and it’s so graceful and how he does so, but your throat goes painfully dry. He takes one of your legs in his hand and kisses your ankle, still strapped in by your formal shoe. He lifts it so it slides over his shoulder and does the same with the other. 

He gazes up at you, brows low, gaze dark and you swear you’ve never been so turned on. He grips the hem of your skirt and slides it up to reveal your thighs. He comes closer to kiss the revealed skin, never breaking eye contact with you, his gaze searing into yours. Your gut is a mess of fire and butterflies, twisting and flipping and grappling for sanity while your mind wonders where did that young shy boy that you knew all this time go? 

“Y/n,” he groans, sliding your skirt up all the way until the front is bunched around your hips. It's when his hands grip the hem of your panties does electricity strike your senses. He gazes at you as if asking for permission and you lift yourself up slightly in response.

He smirks and slides your panties down your legs, past your socks and over your heels before tossing them somewhere neither of you bother to remember. He settles back close between your legs and the image of him gazing up at you on his knees sears itself in your brain. Then, he leans forward and licks a stripe along your core that has you gasping and clutching his shoulder. He smiles and presses his hand against your stomach, hinting at you lie back against his desk. You shiver and obey and it's not even until your head hits the wood does he lick another long, broad stripe that has you arching.

“Shit,” you gasp, clutching the edge of his desk. You feel him grin between your legs before his fingers slide inside you. Your eyes clench shut, mouth falling open as the burning stretch gives away to pleasure. He pumps his fingers leisurely into you, making your toes curl in your shoes. He licks your clit at the same time, causing a long moan and a jerk for your hips. You vaguely wonder when was the last time you’ve been pleasured like this. 

He pushes his fingers deeper and curls them deep inside that has you letting out a long moan of his name. He groans at that and retracts his fingers, leaving you empty. “Look at me,” he says raspily into your skin. “I want you to look at me.” You lift your head up a small ways to see him between your legs, his dark eyes glaring at you, his nimble hands hooking around both of your thighs. Then, he slides his tongue inside his tongue inside, hot and thick. You let out a high pitched moan, hand coming down to tangle in his hair as you arch up. “Oh god,” you clench around his tongue as he goes deeper. He groans in satisfaction and you can feel it reverberate through your body. Sparks of pleasure fly in your vision. His tongue twists and moves and flicks inside you, turning your limbs and mind to jelly. Your head hits the back of his desk as you arch again and suddenly you feel his nails digging painfully into your thighs. You lift your head up to glance back down at him and he gives you a pointed gaze. Right, keep your eyes on him.

He continues his ministrations, leaving you arching and moaning and whimpering all while struggling to keep eye contact. He doesn’t let up once, not even when you accidentally tug his hair too hard, which earns a hiss and then a moan. He continues, tongue sinful sliding deep inside you before moving to wrap his lips around your clit and suck hard. That has you gasping, moaning, hand tightening in his hair as your face screws up in pleasure. He watches every single facial expression carefully while working you all the while. He slides fingers inside while suckling your clit and when he curls them once again deep inside you, you fall apart.

‘Oh god, oh god,” you moan out as you hurdle towards your end. He groans when he feels you coming, and redoubles his efforts so that you have to cover your mouth when you scream. You fall back against the mercilessly hard wood as the  purest bliss washes over you. You arch and moaning and shake around his tongue until he groans into your core, tongue lapping up everything you have to give him. He leaves you then, granting you enough mercy to come back to reality and your body with all the energy sapped out of you. 

He’s suddenly near you, bending over and pressing his body against your weary one to kiss your forehead. Hand comes to comb through your hair gently as you regain your composure.

You open his eyes to see him smiling softly down at you. “Good?” You nod breathlessly. He smiles proudly. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.” 

Your words catch in your throat as he guides you to sit up against the desk once again. He stands before you, towering, his hair even messier now thanks to you, and a slight shine to his lips where he didnt wipe you off completely. He cups your cheeks reverently and bends down to kiss you. It’s loving and passionate and you find yourself melting against him one again. His hand runs through your hair before he tangles it in a few strands in the back of your head and tugs firmly. You gasp harshly, breaking away from the kiss as your head is forced back a little. He examines you briefly before he tugs again experimentally. You moan this time, eyes fluttering and pleasure buzzing through your body. He drinks in your reaction like it's an elixir of gold. “Just as I thought,” he mumbles before gently combing through your hair again. “I can’t believe I do this to you. The effect I have on you,” he says reverently, watching your hair slip from his fingers. 

You catch your breath. “You have every effect on me.”

He gazes at you intently before leaning over and gives you another kiss. Then, he helps you off his desk until you're standing on your slightly unreliable, still shaky legs. He steadies you with his grip on your hips. He presses his lips to your temple and eyes his desk behind you. “You know… I dreamed of having you here.” His eyes are dark again, pupils blown wide, voice raspy. “Some days, it distracts me so much that I can’t do any work sitting here,” his eyes flit across the wood. “I’ve wanted it for so long.”

“For how long?” You ask. 

“Since the day you walked into this building,” he laughs, nudging your nose with his. “You were so beautiful,” he sighs, settling his forehead on yours. “And the first time we drank wine here and I almost kissed you? After that, god, those thoughts would not leave me.”

“What…” you swallow, “what thoughts?”

His eyes darken. “Of you bent over my desk, moaning and whimpering as I fuck you.” Excitement buzzes throughout your body, arousal seeping through you once again, so embarrassingly quickly after your release. Taeyong cups your jaw, his thumb resting on your lip. his stare is dark, unwavering. “What do you say, my love?”  

You swallow hard. “We should make those thoughts reality.”

His eyes darken impossibly more. “You sure?”

“Please.” His eyes darken again, growling as he kisses you hard. Then, he turns you around, pressing your stomach into the edge of the desk and drags his hands down your body. He presses and kneads your clothes breasts, his hard length pressing into your ass as he kisses down your neck. You moan and arch against him. “Bend over,” he instructs. A wave of arousal hits you hard as you do his bidding. Once you’re bent over with your forearms resting against the wood, Taeyong flips over your skirt. You hear him groan, probably at how unbelievably sopping wet you are by now, especially from having come once already. Then his hard length is sliding into you and all thoughts grind to a halt. Both your moans synchronize as he slowly thrusts into you, mumbling praises while you fight to stay sane. You are still so sensitive and the lazy drag of his length against your walls compounds your pleasure. He eventually picks up speed, sending pleasure coursing through you with each stroke. One hand tangles in your hair, and you feel him press down against your back until his lips are by  your ear. “God, I love your hair.” He gives a firm tug so your head is pulled back against his neck, coaxing a shaky moan from your lips. He groans and sinks his teeth into your neck. You gasp at the sharp pain mixed by the pleasure brought from his hips. 

“Oh,” you gasp out as his hips speed up, his hand still in your hair, his teeth by your neck. It all sends your mind spiraling. He moans into your ear, whispering praises on how good you feel, how long he's waited for you, how much he loves you. Then, his other hand comes up to grip your throat and suddenly, you’re whimpering.

“Is this okay?” He whispers lowly in your ear, his hips not faltering in their brisk pace. 

“Yes yes yes,” you manage out, relishing the pressure on your throat. You want to feel him everywhere, in any form, as much as you can while he takes you for himself. 

He chuckles. “Good girl.”  You moan and clench so hard his thrusts stutter and he gasps into your ear. “God, Y/n….You like that dont you?” You moan in response and he chuckles, resuming his thrusts. He kisses down your ear and your neck. “My good girl, my sweet girl.”

You gasp, feeling yourself clench even tighter at his praise, pulling more moans from his lips. You push your hips back to meet his thrusts and he groans.

“Say my name, Y/n,” he orders, hand slightly tightening around your throat. 

You mentally scramble to remember words. “Ah, Taeyong.”

He groans lowly, possessively, his thrusts turning rougher, making you cry out. “Say.. say you love me,” his voice is a bit softer this time but still demanding. 

“Hah.. I love you,” you manage out, fingers scratching the wood for leverage. 

He releases a harsh breath against your ear. “Again.” 

“I love you,” you gasp, eyes clenching shut at his harsh pace. 

He moans, gently kissing the side of your face that he can reach from behind you, so at odds with the rough thrusts that are making you shiver. “Again, love.”

“I love you,” you cry out. He growls as his thrusts grow faster and the grip on your throat grows tighter, pulling whimpers and incoherent mumbles from your lips. His other hand untangles from your hair and reaches down to rub your clit.

“Ah!” your yelp echoes through the office. The hand clutching your throat slides up to clamp around your mouth. 

“Careful, I may have a big office but they can still hear you from outside,” he warns, voice strained in pleasure as his lips brush your cheek. “And I wouldn’t mind all of them hearing you. But I think you’d be very embarrassed walking past them into the office after this.” 

You breathe harshly against his hand, and pressing it against your mouth to signal him to keep it there because you know you’ll definitely not be quiet. He growls, his thrusts growing harsher now that your moans won't reveal you. His fingers resume drawing circles on your clit that has your whimpers coming out muffled against his hand. Your legs are shaking again, mind numb, moaning incoherently into his hand clamped around your mouth. He lets you sink flat onto the desk when you can’t hold yourself up anymore, the coolness of the wood offering some relief to your flushed face. He fucks you until his breaths grow harsher his moans louder before he drapes himself over you. 

“You’re mine,” he growls into your ear. He hits a spot deep, deep inside you that has you careening. Combined with his words and his finger on your clit, you lose yourself into pleasure for the second time. The world washes in white as you come, gasping harshly into his hand and dragging nails down his desk, walls squeezing him mercilessly. “Y/n,” he moans, desperate, thrusting into you until he strains and stills suddenly. With another moan of your name, his warmth spills inside you. He lets out a long groan as he shakes before collapsing on top of you.

Both of you fight to catch your breath. After a few minutes, it seems to take all of Taeyong’s energy to drag himself off of you and collapse into the armchair nearby. You’re still gasping over his desk, not trusting your legs to support you if you stand. “Oh my god.”

He chuckles, hand combing through his hair. “Did I get carried away?” 

Pleasure is still thrumming across your body, through every inch of every nerve. “Please.. get carried away more often.” He laughs out loud. You push yourself off the desk and shakily stand up. 

“Come on, let's get cleaned up,” Taeyong says, tangling his fingers with yours. “I have more things for you in mind at home.” 

Your stomach flips. “Still haven’t gotten it out of your system?”

“Nope.” 

At home, he gives you so many hickeys that you have to wear a high neck shirt and a scarf when you go to work the next day. When you meet Jungwoo, he only quirks a brow.

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he smiles knowingly. “I’m guessing it's going well with the boss?” You flush under your scarf. “He apologized to me, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have something to do with that, do you?”

“Uh,” your voice comes out high pitched. “Nope no, uh.. he just feels bad.”

He smiles, eyes narrowing. “Does it have anything to do with the scarf you’re wearing in June?“

“Don’t you have work to do?” You snap. He only chuckles and turns back to his computer.

...

Several pass with this routine of work and then staying over at Taeyong’s place some days of the week. The days you do, you wake up from restful slumber with his arms around your waist, his sleepy mumbled protests when you try to leave his arms, even for the bathroom. On the weekends, you spend time making breakfast and sharing kisses and watching funny movies and cleaning his apartment. It’s domestic bliss and you wish it lasted forever.The days when you don’t stay over, you stare at the emptiness of your apartment and wonder if you should just move in with him. You would have said yes already had you not felt so guilty for lying to his face everyday. You can’t even imagine taking that step when he still doesn't know the full truth and how you’ve betrayed him. Judging from his sad expressions any time you pack up and head back to your apartment, you can tell that he wants to ask you to stay for good, to move in, but he hasn’t mentioned the idea after the first time he brought it up.

Apart from this, life is routine for a while. Soon after, however, strange things begin to happen. A few of the lower ranked members get ambushed while running some operations in the city. The following week, a shipment was stolen. A few days later, some high profile clients suddenly decide not to work with the group anymore. And, the worst of all, somebody shoots at Jungwoo on his way to work. Yesterday, Taeyong told you that someone was following his car while heading home. He managed to lose them before they discovered where he lives.

“It’s bewildering,” he said in his office, brows pinched in concern. “No one has ever attacked us like this before. We are the most powerful criminal organization in the city with the highest security. Who could suddenly have access to all our details and carry out attacks like this?”

Today, your stomach churns with dread as you drive home. You remember how shaken everyone was, including Taeyong, and you hope to god it isn’t what you’re thinking. As soon as you step into your apartment, you spot a letter on the floor by the entryway.  Someone must have slid it under the door.  Come back or we kill him. You have one week. -Y.

The note shakes slightly in your hands. You read the words over and over until they’re seared into your memory. Then you push down the overwhelming sensation of dread swelling up inside you. Your suspicions are confirmed - Yuta’s behind everything. And now he’s exploiting your weakness for Taeyong so that you’ll be forced to come back to him. You don't know how he got access to so much classified information to do as much damage as he did. He seems to be everywhere, attacking everyone at once, out of fury. You wonder if it’s because of you. Either way, it’s only a matter of time before they kill Taeyong. 

Still shaking, you crumple up the note and slam it into the trash can. You feel the sting of tears in your eyes and shut the door to your room, collapsing onto your bed. You won’t be able to sleep tonight. You make up your mind about at least one thing, though. Taeyong won’t get hurt again because of you. 

...

The next day, you don’t bother checking in with Jungwoo and drag your feet to Taeyong’s office. He stands at his desk, organizing files and smiles at you brightly when you enter the room. Then, he registers the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” His brows furrow.

You steel yourself with a shaky breath. “I’m leaving.”

His face falls, hands dropping the files onto the desk. “What?”

And suddenly, you can’t hold back your tears. “I’m leaving. I have to leave.”

He registers your tears, realizes you’re crying for the first time in front of him, and swiftly walks over to you. His arms pull you into a hug, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Why? Why are you crying?” Concern heavily laces his voice. 

“All these attacks that are happening.. you being followed… it’s all because of me,” you manage out against his chest.

His arms tighten around you, his breath stuttering. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

You sniff and pull back, taking in his concerned face. It’s likely the last time you’ll see it when he still has love for you, before you tell him the truth. “I was sent by another organization as a spy.” It’s like slow motion, the way his face drains of all emotion and grows hard and shaken. His arms retract away from you as if you’re poison. He steps back suddenly, far out of your proximity and your heart shatters. “I know. I’m a traitor,” you say shakily, staring at the ground so you don’t have to look at that heartbreaking face. “You have every right to be angry.” Tears fill your eyes, emotion choking your words. “But I had no chance with you. I knew even before he sent me here that I’d fall in love with you and I told him as much.” 

Taeyong makes no further movements to step close to you. His voice is cold when he speaks. “Who sent you?”

You exhale. “Yuta.” His expression hardens. He knows him. You’re not surprised. Yuta’s mob is second only to Taeyong’s in the city. “He sent me here to gain intel because he knew we were close. He…he knew you would trust me and keep me close despite being a new recruit,” you say wearily. “I told him I didn’t want to but he forced me. It…it was so hard being here, seeing you, lying to you and everyone, you have no idea.” Tears fill your eyes as you chance a glance at him. Taeyong’s face is carefully neutral but his eyes betray him. They are filled with unspeakable hurt. Your heart lurches.

“I gave him some intel about that shipment drop off at the hotel. Then, you got shot. That was because of me.” Taeyong inhales sharply, you can see in his eyes that you’ve shattered his heart further. You feel nauseous. “I didn’t know it would get you hurt. When I saw you injured and bleeding, I called it off. I told Yuta I was never coming back.” Your words stutter and tears slip from your eyes. “So, he took revenge. He’s behind all these recent attacks, all because of me. He sent a note to my apartment yesterday saying either I come back or he’ll kill you.”

Taeyong seems alarmed and then turns thinking, mind working overtime. You continue.

“So many people have already gotten hurt, even Jungwoo, because of me. It’s only a matter of time before you get injured o-or worse and I can't.. I can’t be responsible,” you gasp, wiping your eyes. “So, I have to go back. I have to never see you again.”

Taeyong’s face is unchanging, his voice still cold. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth before? Especially after you called it off with Yuta?”

You exhale. “I should have. I should have told you from the beginning. But I’ve been loyal to Yuta for a decade. After my father escaped, we joined his mob. It’s only because of his protection that the police didn’t catch my father and throw him in jail.” Understanding seeps into Taeyong’s eyes. “I couldn’t betray him. But I couldn’t betray you. I just… I was just stuck,” you bite out, clenching your fists. “And I was afraid if I told you the truth, you’d want me to leave. I was happy here for the first time, with you. I just wanted to disappear into this life, where I didn't have to think about anything else, not even the idea that you’d find out the truth and hate me,” Pain seizes your chest. “I was a coward.”

“But you want to leave now,” he notes, expression still neutral.

You blink at him. “Because you’re in danger. It doesn't matter how I feel anymore.”

He watches you for a second before the slightest hint of emotion shows on his face. “Do you love him?” He swallows, eyes pained. “Yuta?”

“No!” The word falls so quickly from your lips but his pained expression doesn’t shift. “I’m only loyal because he’s like family. Like… like you. I couldn't easily turn against him just like how I couldn’t be against you. But I never loved him,” you say evenly. “And I love you more than anything.”

Taeyong’s expression falters, softens. “If… if I allow you to stay, will you help us bring him down?” He asks carefully.

Words fail you for a moment. You thought Taeyong would yell in anger, throw you out like he did with that man. Instead, he gives you the smallest chance of penance. As of yesterday, you found happiness with Taeyong while Yuta threatens you and uses the love of your life to hurt you. It’s clear he will never see you as anything more than his weapon. And for the first time, everything feels clear. “Yes, I will.” 

Taeyong seems relieved. “Then… then stay. Help us bring him down.”

You blink at him, wide-eyed. “You trust me?”

Taeyong looks away. “I don’t know yet. But I can’t just let you go back to him. Who knows what he’ll do to you as punishment.” His hands curl into fists. “And I may not trust you completely, but I still love you. And I’m not losing you again, not after I found you after all these years.” You inhale. You never imagined that this conversation would end in any way other than with you leaving and never seeing Taeyong again. Something painfully tight in your heart loosens and suddenly, tears spill from your eyes. Taeyong reaches for you, then falters for a moment before deciding. He steps forward and pulls you into his arms. His fingers tangle in your hair and press you close to his chest. You melt against him, relishing the sound of his heartbeat as you cry freely. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” you cry.

“I know,” he says gently, stroking your hair. He kisses your forehead. “I’m not losing you again.”

...

Over the next few days, you tell Taeyong everything you possibly know about Yuta and your old mob, including sensitive information. You hold nothing back. You know this is the time for endings. Taeyong uses every scrap of your information and turns them into orders for other members, into strategies and plans that will give an advantage, and generally puts things to work to ruthlessly take Yuta down. You are grateful that he does not tell the entire office of your treachery. It only appears as if Taeyong has received a sudden influx of highly sensitive information related to a hostile rival mob in a stroke of good luck. But as members of a criminal organization, not everyone is so naive, and they pick up on your sudden increase in visits to his office. Their warm looks suddenly turn to suspicious glares and wide kept distances. 

Jungwoo’s reaction hits you particularly hard. You’re not sure if Taeyong told him the truth about you since he’s his right hand, or if, more likely, Jungwoo found it out by himself. Either way, when you try to speak with him the first day after your revelation, he gives you the cold shoulder. You dont blame him, of course. He gave you information in confidence, which you relayed to the enemy and indirectly put him in danger. Still, your stomach sinks at his aloofness and spreads ice through your heart. You make sure to visit Taeyong’s office only from now on and relay only the necessary information, missing your friend’s twinkling eyes and warm smile the whole time.

Over the course of this work, even Taeyong keeps a distance. He doesn’t show you affection as much as he did before. When he does, it’s with a slightly guarded look in his eyes as if you’ll attack at any moment, with his kisses and touches all too fleeting. Sometimes, you feel lucky if he gives you a smile. You try to blame it on the busyness of work in taking down a rival mob, but it makes your heart crumble all the same. You know he needs time to build back trust, so you give him space. You don’t stay at his place these days and leave work before he can ask. It’s better than him telling you no or, worse, feeling pressured to offer. Whatever he feels, you want to be there for him, always, and hope that he’ll eventually make his way back to you. 

With everyone in the entire office regarding you suspiciously, work becomes a cold place. You’re also well aware that the ultimatum’s deadline is approaching, of which Yuta ordered you to come back within a week’s time or he’ll kill Taeyong. You’re sure that it will be more difficult for Yuta to target Taeyong now that the latter has all the dirt on him, has bolstered his defenses and is launching raids and attacks against Yuta, but it still makes you uneasy.

Taeyong seems to remember this too and asks you about it during one of your meetings with him. “Where did you say you found that note from Yuta?”

“My apartment.”

He blinks. “So he knows where you live?” You nod uneasily. He stiffens slightly. “Y/n, you can’t stay there.”

“I know.” You sigh. “I was thinking of secretly moving to a hotel. I’ve been packing and getting ready.”

“No!” He says bewilderedly but cuts himself off with a sigh. “With me. Stay with me.”

You stare at him. “Are you sure?” 

He gives you a level gaze. “Of course.”

You hesitate for a few moments before nodding. “Okay. I’ll bring over my things.” His face melts in relief, churning small butterflies in your stomach. Taeyong seems to want to say something else but decides against it and turns back to work. It’s enough though, for you. 

“I can take the guest room,” you offer, once you’ve unloaded your boxes and suitcases into his apartment.

“Don’t be silly.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Just use my bed, like you’ve done a million times.” You hesitate, uneasiness stirring in your gut. His dark eyes fix on you. “I don’t hate you, Y/n. You don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable.”

You still don't budge. He makes a show of plopping down on his bed and scooching to the far most end, patting the space beside him. You acquiesce with a sigh and climb in, settling into the sheets and lie down, facing away from him. You relish the familiar feeling of his mattress and his scent on the sheets, remembering the last time you were here before everything changed. “Goodnight Y/n,” Taeyong mumbles behind you.

“Goodnight,” you say into the darkness. Of course, the next day, you wake up tangled in each other's arms. You nearly hate yourself for it. He’s still sleeping and you find yourself quietly admiring his features, as you always do, when you wake up beside him. He looks so angelic and peaceful. You chance a small kiss to his forehead that you don't deserve before tearing yourself away. He catches you, though, arm wrapping around your back to press you to him as his eyelids flutter open. It's silent for a moment before he kisses you. You melt embarrassingly fast in his arms before he pulls away with a sigh. It’s silent for a few moments before you speak.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say thickly, your heart aching. 

“I know.”

“I should've told you. I wanted to tell you.”

“I know,” he smiles, his eyes sad. “Your soft spot is your family and the people around you. And you were stuck between two. I know because it's mine too.” You sigh, blinking back the sting of tears in your eyes. He brings your hand up to kiss your palm. “I forgive you. Now, just forgive yourself.”

A few stray tears make their way down your cheeks. He wipes them gently. “Sorry. You probably prefer a girl who’s much less messy than me,” you laugh weakly.

He shushes you. “In all your rawness, ugliness and truth, that's how I want you.” His words seep into you. He gives you a final kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed to get ready for work. You manage to do the same.

...

This new way of life continues for several weeks more. Yuta continues his attacks on the mob but not on the same level as before since Taeyong has been counterattacking and sabotaging his operation, thanks to your help. You continue to supply as much information as you can remember, like how many members Yuta has, where they’re active, who are their allies, what documents he kept in his ever-secretive files. It helps greatly and Yuta’s attacks seem to decrease by the next month.

Everyone’s coldness towards you seems to thaw until you are accepted back as their member, all except for Jungwoo. He still doesn’t speak to you as much as before and when he does, it's curt and quipped, with cold, short words, not spending more time in your presence than necessary. It torments you. You make up your mind to have a direct conversation with Jungwoo so that he knows how sorry you are. But you also haven’t been feeling well suddenly the last few days and have not come into the office all together. Yesterday, your stomach churned as soon as you woke up and Taeyong caught you throwing up in the bathroom. He was worried and fussy and you assured him it must have been some bad fish you ate the day before. He didn’t want to leave you alone, and outright refused at first to go to work, but you assured him you’ll take some medicine and will be fine in a few hours. He left only after ten minutes of convincing and a promise that you’d call him if you were not feeling well.

As soon as he left, you finally let the dread swallow you whole. Could you be pregnant? You recounted that night in Taeyong’s office months ago when you definitely didn't use a condom. You facepalmed. If only you two hadn’t been so far gone with each other that day, you would’ve remembered. You tried to relax. Maybe it was something else. You did, in fact, eat fish the day before. One pregnancy test would have solved this question but you decided to do it later. Today, you’re determined to come into work and talk to Jungwoo. Damn your queasy stomach. He’s your only focus. Thankfully, you manage not to throw up this morning and unnecessarily worry Taeyong. Instead, you get ready and drive to work with him. As soon as you get into the office, you make your way to Jungwoo who is busy with some emails on his computer. 

“Jungwoo?” He doesn’t turn to face you, his full attention fixed on his screen. “Can we talk?” He sucks his teeth and doesn’t bother to turn around. “Look, I know I’ve-” An unpleasant nausea rises in your stomach, and suddenly you’re bolting towards the female restroom without another word. When you finally emerge back onto the main floor after emptying your guts, you spot Jungwoo staring at you from his desk, eyes narrowed suspiciously. You approach him, giving him a pathetic attempt at a smile.  “Just some bad tuna.”

“For three days in a row?” He asks. You merely stare at him in question as to how he could possibly know that. “I know you haven’t come into work the past few days,” he answers. You stare at the ground, tapping your shoe against the carpet, feeling foolish. He releases a sigh. “Does Taeyong know?” You shake your head and grumble, rubbing your forehead.

“Why not?” 

You exhale. “I… I'm still processing it myself. I'll tell him soon. I just need my head to clear.” you say wearily.

“Does anyone else know?” He asks. You shake your head. Jungwoo watches you with an unreadable expression. Then, he adjusts the chair beside him, the one that used to be yours. “Sit,” he instructs. You gaze at him with a glimmer of hope and obey. Once you do, he turns to face you, brows pinched in concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Nauseous,” you grimace, pressing your hands to your abdomen. He bites back a laugh. 

“I can guess. I meant your mind.”

You slink in your chair. “I'm scared. A mob at war is no place for a child.”

He nods. “And how do you feel about telling Taeyong?”

“Not much better. I’m sure he’ll be happy. I’m not worried about that. But for many months, I'll be… pregnant… and vulnerable.. With this war, if I fall into danger or if anybody takes me, I think he’ll destroy everything, even himself, trying to get me back.” You gaze at the carpet, deep in thought. “And I’m also afraid he’ll lock me up and never let me do anything out of fear for my safety.”

“Well, for the first one, you don't have to be pregnant for him to destroy everything to get you back,” Jungwoo says, smiling “And the second one, yeah, he would probably do that.”

You chuckle, glancing at him. “I know I have to tell him. I’m just… figuring out how to, I guess.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he reassures you. 

A few moments of silence settles between you. “I missed you,” you finally admit, watching the unguarded flinching emotion in his face before he attempts to shutter it away. You cover his hand with yours. “I’m sorry, I truly am.”

Jungwoo gazes at you then, sincerely, and whatever resistance he’s trying to put up against you fails. “I know. I'm sorry too. I'm here for you, you know?” You nearly tear up in relief. You tug him into a hug, which he reciprocates easily. Warmth spreads through your chest and to your heart that has been aching for months. Then, Jungwoo tugs himself away from you. “Careful, I don't want Boss yelling at me again.”

You laugh. “I won't let him do that. It's the reason why I got pregnant anyway,” you mumble.

He looks at you sharply “What?”

“Nothing!” You stand up suddenly. “I uh.. am late, bye.” You hear him laughing as you scurry off.

...

You join Taeyong in his office to help out on some work. Your stomach seems to settle down the rest of the day, thankfully. Your brain swims while you watch Taeyong work busily, trying to figure out how to break the news to him. Would he be happy? Of course he would. You know he wants this more than anything. You just have to work up the nerve. Maybe you can later, when you return home. The day ends and he drives you back to his place, as he’s been doing for weeks since you’ve moved in with him. “You know, it’s nice having you live with me. It feels almost as if we’re married.”

You snort. “We don’t argue enough to be married.”

He chuckles. “We’re happily married, how’s that?” He offers.

“Oh, so that’s why people specify the phrase ‘happily’ before the word ‘married’.”

“Yes,” he laughs. Once you get into his apartment and settle in, he gives you a look. “I would marry you, you know.”

Your cheeks heat up. He looks sincere. “Really?”

His eyes twinkle. “Yes.”

You gaze at him, speechless with emotion before you remember your news. “I need to tell you something.” His brows quirk as he undoes his wrist watch. Just then, the elevator dings behind you, signaling someone has gotten on from the bottom floor. Both of you freeze and turn to face the metal doors.

“That’s strange. No one has access to the elevator except Jungwoo. Did he tell you he was coming over?” Taeyong asks. You check your phone. No text messages or calls. Chills run down your spine as you stare at him and shake your head slowly. Taeyong’s eyes widen. Then, the doors ding open and you realize it’s most definitely not Jungwoo. “Y/n, get back!” Taeyong shouts.

Four or five men with guns step out of the doors and into the penthouse. It’s a surreal sight but they are all familiar. Yuta’s men. You scramble backwards away from them but one lunges to catch your sleeve and drag you off the chair towards them. You barely register Taeyong grabbing the gun from his dresser and aiming at them with a shout to let you go. The man who has you in his grip whirls you around to face Taeyong and presses a gun to your head. All the color drains from Taeyong’s face, but he doesn’t lower the gun. The man holding you captive growls behind you. “She belongs to us. We’re taking her back.” His arm  bars your neck and presses hard until you wince. “Yes, bring even traitors like you back,” he snarls into your ear.

Taeyong flinches as if to make a move but all guns suddenly train on him and he freezes once more. You merely gaze at Taeyong, trying to apologize with your eyes. His face is hard, his eyes a storm of emotions. His gun is still aimed at your captors, both hands wrapped around the handle, one finger around the trigger but you know he’s outnumbered. The gun against your temple pushes into your skin. “If you make one move, we’ll shoot her right here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flash. “Why don’t you just take me instead? Or kill me? Isn’t that what your boss wanted from the beginning?”

“Because someone would just replace you. Why do you think Yuta didn’t just send her as an assassin? We want to destroy your organization from the inside out. And she,” the gun nudges your head. “Is the key. She knows all your secrets by now. And as long as we have her, we’ll control you.” Another man speaks up. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t kill you and her if you try anything.”

“It's okay. I’ll be okay.” You reassure Taeyong as calmly as you can.

Taeyong’s eyes shine, the gun wavering in his hands before he lowers it. “I’ll get you back, I promise.”With that, the men are stepping back into the elevator, dragging you with them. Your last view is Taeyong’s distressed, anguished face before the metal doors close.

...

After a never ending van ride with your familiar kidnappers calling you a traitor and telling you to wait until Yuta gets his hands on you, you end up back at his base, sitting in a dark, empty room with a single chair and a lightbulb dangling above you. You know this room. It’s one of the rooms they used to question enemies and prisoners, although “question” is an understatement, you think, spotting the faded bloodstains on the ground. Just then, the door opens to reveal a familiar face with long red hair. “Long time no see, Boss” you hum as Yuta steps into the dim light of the room. 

He looks angry. His eyes glint as he slowly circles you. “Yes,” he gives a fake smile. “I recall the last time I saw you, when you were still loyal.” 

“Yes, that was a while ago. Many things have changed since then.” 

He snorts. “Things, huh?” He stops in front of you, peering down. “Why don’t you tell me every single piece of intel you know about that place, just like I ordered you to?”

You match his glare. “Do you need it? You seem to be managing fine against them on your own.”

Yuta grits his teeth. “Not anymore. Your boyfriend put up a good fight against us. You saw to that, I’m sure.”

“How did you manage to do that much damage in the first place?” You ask.

“I wasn’t aware this was my interrogation session.” He growls. “Besides, I don’t answer to traitors. You’re lucky you're even alive to ask questions. I could've had you killed for your treachery instead of being taken.”

You huff out a laugh. “Then you would’ve lost your precious chance to use me to take down Taeyong’s mob.” 

His eyes flare. “Right, Taeyong. The one you threw everything out for.”

“I told you when you gave me this case and I didn’t want to take this one. I told you the risk.”

“I didn't think we’d lose you so easily. After ten years, you throw that loyalty away?”

You glare at him. “Ten years is not enough for me to put my loyalty to you over him.”

He seems to falter. Then, he steels himself, eyes flashing with anger. “How long then? Twenty years?” You don’t reply. ”Fifty? One hundred?” When you still don’t respond, he throws his hands in the air. “I don’t believe this.”

“It's not personal, it's just-”

“Yes, it is personal!” He jabs a finger into your face. “I send you to do a job and you throw out everything we built together over some crush!?”

“You know by now it’s not some crush!” You bite back. The anger on his face crumbles a little into surprise. You sigh frustratedly. “You don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice. I was stuck between you and him. I couldn’t betray either of you. Do you know I didn’t rat you out right away? I didn’t tell Taeyong or anyone until you sent me that fucking note. And when I did tell them, it was because I was going to leave and come back to you. That’s when they saw me as a traitor. I was loyal and a traitor to both sides.”

Yuta falls silent for a few moments before speaking quietly. “But you didn’t come back to me. You stayed and helped him take me down. You made your decision in the end.”

“Yes, I did. But it’s because you were going to kill him. It’s not because you meant nothing to me.” 

He falls quiet again. “Tell me what you know of the Scorpion, Y/n.” You stay silent, staring at the floor. “You know this business. If you don't tell me what you know and prove to me your allegiance, you’re of no use to me.”

“What then? Are you going to torture me? Kill me?” You ask him. “Would you do that to me, Yuta?” 

He doesn’t respond. He only turns and walks out the door, speaking over his shoulder. “You have one day to make up your mind.”

....

Taeyong is losing his mind. Jungwoo has never seen him like this. He called an emergency meeting, had people come back into the office to assemble in the conference room, and proceeded to pace and ramble and stumble over his words as he tried to explain the situation. He runs his hand through his hair until it stuck up on the ends, even stopping to kick a chair over in frustration. Jungwoo still can’t believe you were taken from his apartment. He figures they must have tracked you somehow. “I want everyone to split up and come up with plans to get her back,” Taeyong orders, his voice uneven. “We already know where his base is, thanks to her. We’ll meet back here in ten minutes. Dismissed.”

The room empties out with people already mumbling ideas. Taeyong goes back to pacing, scratching the back of his head nervously before growing taut. Then, he kicks another chair over with a frustrated grunt. It’s only then does he notice Jungwoo is still in the room. “Ah,” he blinks, embarrassed, staring at the chair. “I was just… just frustrated.” 

“I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?” Jungwoo asks.

Taeyong’s face crumbles into despair. “They just took her… right out from under me, they just came in and pointed a gun at her head and took her.”

“I know,” Jungwoo tries to sound soothing. “I’ll help in any way I can.”

Taeyong doesn’t look reassured. His brows are pinched and his lips have been twisted in a perpetual frown since he walked in here. “We have to come up with a plan.”

Jungwoo nods. “Any ideas so far?”

Taeyong chews his lip. “Maybe we can just raid his base with sheer manpower. She can figure out how to run or hide in the commotion. If she gets her hand on a weapon, she can even help us out before we get her out of there.”

Jungwoo’s stomach churns, remembering how, just today, you couldn’t get through a full conversation with him without vomiting. Worse yet, you’ve been like this for the past three days. The plan doesn’t seem like the best idea given your condition. “I don’t know about having her join the fight. We have to keep her protected at all costs.”

Taeyong looks at him inquisitively. “I mean, she can handle herself. She’s a trained soldier.”

Jungwoo realizes you never got the chance to tell Taeyong the truth. “She didn’t tell you?”

Taeyong blinks. “Tell me what?”

“She’s pregnant.”

Silence blares loudly in the room for a full minute. All emotion drains from Taeyong’s face only to be replaced with shock. “What?”

“She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up just this morning.”

Taeyong looks dazed. “She’s pregnant..?” Jungwoo nods. Taeyong’s eyes become misty. He suddenly grips his forehead. “She told me it was bad tuna.”

Jungwoo bites back a laugh. “She told me that too.” He watches Taeyong blink back tears and take a breath, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “Boss, listen. We can't let her fight on her own. She’s not well as it is and can barely keep her food down. On top of that, the baby…”

“The baby...” Taeyong breathes. His eyes are a million miles away. “Her and my baby… and,” His eyes grow cold, jaw clenching. “And Yuta took her.”

“Yes, he did.” Jungwoo says. “And he might kill her tonight if she doesn't give him any useful information.”

All panic is gone from Taeyong. Now he’s cold, rigid, familiar, the one that Jungwoo is used to. “We’re not going to show mercy.” Taeyong growls. “And we’ll find a way that doesn't put her.. or.. our baby.. at risk.”

Jungwoo grins. “Yes, Boss.”

...

You’re locked in a cell for the night. Not really a cell, more like one of their spare bedrooms that can be locked from the outside. It’s not too bad; it has a bed and a bucket. The bucket is particularly useful for your nausea bouts that have started up again since they locked you in here. Even if you try to escape, it will be difficult in your condition. Fatigue aches throughout your body. Your head feels light and your stomach is perpetually queasy. Being kidnapped, questioned and thrown into a cell certainly hasn’t helped. At least they gave you some semblance of a dinner, you think, eyeing the slop of food in a bowl on your table.

You can’t sleep, obviously, and opt to keep your mind busy during this insufferable silence. You try to trace how Yuta knew where Taeyong’s penthouse was in order to kidnap you. Then, it hits you. Your old cell phone that you threw out because Yuta was tracking it - you did that after you visited Taeyong’s place for the first time. Yuta must have just figured that any place you were staying at for a long stretch of time that wasn’t the office or your apartment was Taeyong’s.You wonder what Taeyong must be thinking. He was so panicked when you saw him last, understandably. You told him the location of Yuta’s base weeks ago, so he definitely knows where you are. He’s probably on his way here right now, or hopefully before tomorrow. 

You wonder if Yuta would really have you killed tomorrow if you don’t cooperate. He’s always been strict, mean, ruthless, but never entirely heartless. You find it hard to imagine him being able to execute you after spending a decade together. 

Suddenly, the sound of shouting and banging doors erupts from outside. Then, gunfire. You shoot up in bed and catch the sight of people running to and fro through the small window of your door. It looks like Taeyong came early after all. 

...

“We attack from the front main entrance in heavy numbers. Jungwoo, you lead this group. A small group will loop around the side. There should be a back entrance that will likely not be guarded because of the commotion at the front. I’ll slip in there and find her,” Taeyong instructed the team.

They follow it perfectly. As Taeyong slips through the back entrance and descends into the underground base, he hears shouting, gunfire and footsteps bounding down hallways. He quietly navigates the abandoned backrooms. He vaguely remembers you describing the layout of this place once. If he remembers correctly, the place where they hold prisoners should be…He turns the corner and finds a series of doors lining the entire hallway. Behind each one is a bedroom. All of them are empty except for one whose light is filtering through the small window of its door. Anticipation swells inside him as he dashes to the room, muttering a prayer that you be okay. 

The door is locked. He curses and peers through the window. He sees your face, alarmed and caught off guard before you register that it’s him. The sweetest relief floods him at the sight of you unharmed. You mouth something that he can't hear before you motion to the outside wall at the end of the hallway. He follows the line of sight and spots keys dangling on a wall hook. He dashes over to grab them before running back, unlocking the door and shouldering it open. You’re swallowed in a hug so quickly you can barely breathe. Taeyong’s arms are around you, squeezing you to him, tucking you under his chin, before running through your hair and cupping your cheeks. He’s mumbling questions and you realize he's checking to see if you're injured. You can feel him trembling. “Hey, hey, I’m okay,” you reassure him, holding his hands that are cupping your cheeks.

Anxiety bleeds from his face. He checks you one again, then pulls you in for another crushing hug. You can’t help but sigh and melt in his arms, grateful that he’s here. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs.

“It's not your fault.” You rub his back. Another round of gunfire erupts in the background. “We have to get out of here.”

He pulls away. “No, we’re not running. Yuta will just come after us. We’re going to defeat him here.”

Your stomach flips. “Defeat… Will you kill him?”

Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Yes. He was going to kill you wasn't he?” 

“I know… I just-” More gunfire rings out. You turn to Taeyong. “Give me a gun. I can help. I know their weaknesses and where to hide in this place.”

Emotion envelops his face. He cups your cheek softly. “Not this time.”

“Why not?”

“You… the baby…” he trails off, his eyes shining. 

“Oh,” you swallow. “Jungwoo told you.”

He releases a breath, lips curling into a small smile before he presses his forehead to yours. “Yeah, he did.”

The sounds of gunfire and shouting grow louder. “I can help, Taeyong. It can make a lot of difference out there. What if our guys run into a dead end hallway and get shot down? I can help everyone navigate this place, especially where to retreat to.” 

He pulls away from you. “No.”

Your eyes roam his face. “Please. I'll hide. What if you take more losses because you could have used me?”

“That’s a risk I'll take.”

“Taeyong…”

“Please, just for this one time, please do as I say.”

You fall silent. He’s never given you an order before. His hand slips from your cheek as he turns towards the door and the sound of gunfire. You make a last attempt. “I'll hide, I'll keep safe. I just want to help.” He shakes his head one more time, steps out of the room and closes the door, automatically locking it from the outside. You speechlessly stare at him through the small window. He gives an apologetic look before running off. You stare in disbelief and then rattle the door handle. It doesn't budge. The sound of gunfire rises and you anxiously wonder if it's because Taeyong entered their line of sight. If he gets hurt again when you could've done something about it….

You slam your palms against the door this time, desperation and anger rising inside of you. He locked you in here like another prisoner. “This is not happening,” you mumble. More gunfire rings out. Someone shouts in pain. Tears sting your eyes. There must be some way.

You look through the door window at the ground of the hallway outside and spot the keys on the floor close by. Taeyong must've dropped them as soon as he unlocked the door and ran to hug you. You kneel and find a big enough gap under the door for your palm. You stick your hand out, fingers brushing the edge of the keys. You pinch them with your fingertips and drag it through the door successfully. 

You stand up and exhale in victory, fumbling with the keys. You unlock the door from your side and make your escape. Gunfire echoes from all around you, from every floor and hallway. Most of the people you find along the way are unconscious or too injured to fight, and a few you fear may be dead. Most of them are Yuta’s men. You know almost all of them and it makes your heart ache. Then, you hear Taeyong’s shout and all blood drains to your legs. You sprint into the main hall and spot Taeyong’s familiar pistol on the floor by the door to Yuta’s office, which is open. Your stomach lurches and panic seizes your brain. You fight down the rising nausea in your stomach and run through the door. 

Taeyong is bleeding on the floor in front of you, clutching his leg while Yuta stands by his desk, the same spot where he gave you this mission all those days ago. His gun is aimed directly at Taeyong. Without thinking, you hurl yourself into his path.

“Stop!” You shout. 

“Y/n!?” Yong shouts in disbelief. “What are you doing here!? I told you to stay there!”

You glare at Yuta who’s been frozen since you first stepped in his line of sight. “If you’re going to shoot him, you’ll have to shoot me first.”

Yuta stares at you, gun still aimed. His face is hard but uncertain. “You’d give up your life just for him?” You don’t respond but your expression is all Yuta needs as an answer. Taeyong gives a protesting groan behind you. The sound of gunfire tapers off in the distance. The raid sounds like it's coming to a close. Yuta releases a breath, his gun wavering. “All I wanted to do was take down the Scorpion. You made it so, so difficult. I only retaliated.” Yuta grits his teeth.

“You harassed my people, infiltrated my organization, and tried to assassinate me. Taking her was the final slight,” Taeyong growled. “Don’t act like you are the victim.”

Yuta glowers. “Y/n, I will let you walk out of here right now if you step out of the way.”

“Walk away, huh? So what about that ultimatum you gave me when you brought me back here?” You ask him. “You were never going to kill me if I didn't give you intel because you can’t do it.”

Yuta avoids your eyes and doesn't respond. You were right; he has a soft spot for you too. “So, what’s it going to be? Will you kill us both?” you ask.

Silence fills the room. His gun is still trained on you. Then, you hear Taeyong’s voice from behind you. “She's pregnant.” 

Shock envelops Yuta’s face. His gun wobbles before he lowers it. He seems to search for confirmation in your face and finds it. He groans,  running his hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

You stare at him, perplexed. He turns around and grips the edge of his desk, head falling forward in defeat. When you realize he’s not going to shoot, you immediately kneel by Taeyong’s side and check his injuries. There's a gash below his knee but it doesn't seem terribly serious. “Y/n,” Taeyong whispers. “Grab my gun back there and shoot him while he’s distracted.” 

You freeze. “What? I can’t do that.”

Taeyong’s brows furrow. “Y/n-“

“She won’t kill me if that’s what you're whispering about," Yuta calls, sighing heavily before turning around to face you once more. “She’s too soft. Too attached.” His head falls forward. “What a fucking weakness,” he mumbles, almost to himself.

“And you?” Taeyong glares. “You won't kill me as soon as she's not in your line of sight?”

Yuta only looks on tiredly. “No. I’m not going to take a father away from his kid before it's even born.” Silence fills the room. It looks like Taeyong doesn’t know what to think. You remember how Yuta has always refused to hurt children and, if he could help it, parents. It's why he and his father gave you a chance to join this mob when your family was on the run. Similar to Taeyong, there's a softness behind the ruthlessness that sets their mobs apart from all others in the city. “Everything I built is gone,” Yuta sighs tiredly. “Most of my men are dead or injured, my base is discovered.”

You help Taeyong sit up, and tear a cloth from your shirt to wrap it around his wound. “We both did some bad damage,” Taeyong grunts as you tend to his injury. “We seriously compromised each other. Worse yet, we’re the two biggest mobs in the city and now we’re handicapped. The worse, less moral, more violent ones will try to take over.”

Yuta hisses. “The ones peddling drugs and trafficking humans. They will turn this city into a fucking warzone while vying for power.” 

Taeyong nods in agreement. His bleeding seems to have stopped. He sits up with a wince. Yuta stares glumly at the ground.

“Maybe you both can come to a truce,” You suggest, catching their attention. “I know we’re literally sitting in the aftermath of a bloodbath of a mob war but… if you have a common interest, maybe you can come to an agreement or ceasefire or….” you trail off as both men stare at you as if you’ve grown two heads. You sigh exasperatedly. “Do you want Johnny’s mob taking over? The one that's already terrorizing that club we went to and probably every other establishment in the city?”

Taeyong and Yuta exchange glances. They seem to come to a begrudging, silent understanding. Taeyong turns to you. “Ceasefire for now. We’ll… talk about this later. We have to check on our members.”

You eye Yuta in question. His eyes are narrowed and you know he’s mulling over every angle and opportunity in his head. In the end, he exhales. “Fine. Ceasefire. Go tend to your wounded.”

...

In all, a handful were injured. A few died. You find Jungwoo unharmed and give him the tightest possible hug. Once you leave the base, Taeyong gets checked over at a hospital. They don’t ask any questions, as always, since they have a general idea he’s with the mob that runs the city. You stay with him overnight until he's discharged in the morning. Both of you return to his place after that and try to recover over the next few days. Taeyong orders the office closed for a few weeks. He says that, after everything that’s happened, people need time to process the loss of life, assess the damages and heal mentally and physically. Yuta honors the ceasefire and, for a few weeks, it seems as if there is peace.

A few days after the raid, you finally register the dull anger broiling in your stomach. You find yourself keeping a slight distance from Taeyong whenever he’s nearby and you realize, for the first time, that you are angry with him. He realizes this too and finally speaks on it one evening when both of you are watching television in his bedroom. “Back in Yuta’s base, you know why I had to leave you in there, right?”

“No, I don't.” You sit up from the bed to face him. “You almost died. Maybe it all would’ve been better if I joined and we talked Yuta down sooner.” 

Taeyong frowns. “Or he would’ve hurt you. You trust in his goodness too much. I was only trying to protect you.”

“It didn't feel like protection. It felt like an easy way to guarantee your peace of mind at the cost of my free will.” You stare at him. “You cannot make decisions for me.”

“I can if you’re carrying our child.” He glares back.

You purse your lips. “I’m aware that I need to protect myself and the baby, but I wanted to protect other people too, just like you. That isn’t something you can order me not to do. You’re not the Boss in everything.” You pull away from him and slide off the bed.

“Y/n.” His expression of anger turns to pleading.

“Do you know how helpless I felt? You could have been dying and I would have been stuck behind that door. And if all of you were killed, what then? I’d just be stuck there, with no one to come get me out.” 

“But we weren't killed and you did get out. Somehow,” he says bluntly. His expression looks like a parent’s who is chastising their child for disobeying orders. The look you gave must have been so full of disappointment since he sighs and acquiesces. “I wasn't thinking much at the time. I was just afraid you’d deny my order and run into combat, which you did. I… needed to keep you somewhere safe.”

“Keep me or lock me?” You huff. “It felt so insulting to be physically locked away and not being allowed to do what I thought was best at the time in my mind because fear clouded yours. Why are your wishes more important than mine?” 

Taeyong visibly slumps against the headboard. “No. They are not more important. I was just.. selfish and scared. When they..” He falters before his voice comes out shaky. “When they came here, put a gun to your head and took you from my own place where I should've been able to keep you safe, I thought you were dead. I lost it. Every minute when I didn't know you were okay, I was losing my mind.” He releases a heavy sigh, blinking back tears. “Then when I saw you again unharmed in that cell, I was so relieved. I couldn't bear the thought of you being in danger again and I just acted on my feelings.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart lurches. You climb back into his bed and take him into your arms. “I didn't think of that. I’m sorry too.” He sniffs and presses himself closer. What a mess, you think. Injured twice, put in danger’s path too many times, all with a baby on the way. “This is no life for a child,” you sigh, tickling his hairs under your chin. “I wish we could get away from all this.”

His hand presses against your stomach. “Maybe we can.” You glance at him in question. “I can step down as boss. We can abandon this violent life, raise our child safely and live in peace.”

You blink, gazing down at him. “That sounds like a dream. But you said the mob was compromised and the city will suffer.”

His words come out muffled against your chest. “Maybe Yuta could take over.”

Your brain grinds to a halt. “What?” 

You pull back to look at him. He sighs, propping his head on his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I can’t think straight right now. Too much has happened recently.” He glances at you. “But we originally kept other mobs in check. We kept the city stable and safe to an extent. But now, we’ve destroyed each other. Others will challenge us. If we merge into one organization, we can consolidate power and retain our standing.” He chances a look up at you. “Besides, I’m impressed with how he was so good at finding out our top secret information. He might be a boon to our team.”

You release a breath, sliding down against the headboard. “I never thought I’d hear that from you.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t know the extent of the damage we were doing to each other until we were in his base, surrounded by bodies, from both sides. Not to mention our months of attacks against each other before that.” he sighs. “People have taken it hard here. We are weakened.” He says. “And Yuta didn’t…. he kill me when he could have. I would have killed him in his position. I guess that’s something.”

You gaze at him. “So is this the truce you will offer him? Merging? And you’ll step down and make him boss?”

He winces. “I don’t know about making him boss. He can run his own unit as part of our larger organization if he chooses. But I’ll step down.” He says, smiling. “And we can live far away from the violence and never think about it again.”

“That… sounds almost too good to be true.”

He takes your hand and kisses it. “We deserve it after all these years. I want to be a father rather than a kingpin. I’d much rather be by your side raising our baby and being your h… um,” he averts his eyes and clears his throat. “Being domestic.”

Your heart melts, noticing the pink tint to his cheeks. “You do love domesticity.” You chuckle. “Who will take your place then?”

Taeyong grins. “I think someone deserves a promotion.”

...

Over the next few weeks, Taeyong notifies Yuta of the proposed plan, who begrudgingly accepts. He also tells the office about the news of the merger, earning loud protests of outrage. “We’re supposed to work alongside the people that killed us!?” One member shouts. 

Taeyong gazes around the conference room. “It’s either this or we close down. Given what’s happened, it will be extremely difficult to climb back to where we were,” he explains. “We will be vulnerable to attacks by other mobs and more people will die. If we don’t come to an agreement with Yuta, he might begin attacking us again as well. This will repeat for a while.” Grumbled murmurs echo around the room. “Also, I will be stepping down.”

That gets even louder shouts. Taeyong raises his hands signaling everyone to settle down.

“You said we’re compromised but you’re going to leave us without a leader!?” A woman protests.

“Someone will replace me, of course. Someone who is far better suited to the position than me, someone who is much more intelligent and perceptive will be a force to be reckoned with if anyone dares challenge us from now on.” Taeyong smiles, eyes fixing on one person. “Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo looks stunned. The mumbles of protests pause entirely for a few moments before they turn into cheers and hollers. Someone slaps him on the back a few times in congratulations and he blinks as if in a daze. “Me? As Boss?” 

Taeyong grins. “Do you accept?” Jungwoo blinks furiously before nodding. “Then, congratulations.” The room bursts into applause. Absolutely no one objects to his appointment. Jungwoo has always been the most intelligent and discerning, and will no doubt be a force to be reckoned with against any of the mob’s enemies. Within a few days, Taeyong officially hands over the position, his office, and the reigns to his right hand.

...

In the following weeks, Taeyong exchanges a few calls with Yuta, mostly on how to merge the organizations, and discuss grievances and conditions. They settle on some specific deal you don’t understand, but it must be adequate since Yuta agrees to merge and actually comes over to the office for a few meetings. Within a month, they officially merge and things seem to stabilize and run smoothly. Jungwoo takes to the new role quickly as well. He already knows the inner workers of the mob so he needs very little training. In turn, Taeyong is able to resign fully. Jungwoo insists on throwing a going away party, filled with some teary goodbyes, congratulations and well wishes with the pregnancy. From here, you can begin to believe things will actually get better. 

With all the new free time, Taeyong is able to help take care of you for the rest of your pregnancy. He supports you through all your woes, like making you food, holding your hair back while you’re hurling into the toilet, massaging your aching muscles. Some nights he props his chin onto your stomach, speaking to the baby with a light in his eyes. It’s the deepest peace you’ve ever felt. A month later, your morning sickness evens out and you identify the faintest change in the protrusion of your stomach. A baby bump. When you first show him, Taeyong is over the moon. He can’t keep his hands off your tummy. His eyes shine and lips are curled into a smile that stays for a week. It’s also when you chance a question at Taeyong that you meant as a suggestion, just something to think about, but it changes everything. It’s when you’re lounging in bed, one of those restful days. Sunlight pours in through the blinds and the television is low in the background. “Taeyong?” He hums in question. “Do you want to get married?”

A beat of silence passes. “...What?” You chance a glance at him. He’s absolutely shocked. Heat flares on your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I don't know… I just thought maybe someday we can. I know we don't have to, but I just thought we’re going to be together… I mean, forever, right?” You blush. “That came out cheesy. I meant neither of us have any intention to leave, so might as well-”

He cuts you off with a kiss and pulls away before you can even process it. “Yes, yes, yes,” he litters butterfly kisses across your face and pulls you into a hug. You melt, laughing into his shoulder. “I thought you wouldn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You giggle. “We’re already having a whole kid together.”

“I don’t know,” he pulls back, a smile curled wide over his lips. It’s wonderful to see him happy. “I want to. I definitely want to.”

Your heart soars. “Then let’s get married.”

....

It’s short work to plan your wedding. Neither if you want it too large, but much of the office is invited to reception afterwards. It arrives in another month, your belly swelling a little bit more by then, but not noticeable under your wedding dress. The ceremony is emotional and filled with reverence. You’ll never forget the sight of your groom in his tux, shining eyes and smile, calling you his wife and him your husband, the words like magic on your tongue. The reception afterwards is a jubilant contrast, full of dancing and drinking. A few colleagues, including Jungwoo, pat you on the back in congratulations. You pass the night in a tizzy of dancing and laughing until a familiar figure enters the hall. You think it’s a stranger before you realize it’s Yuta. He spots you, eyes running over your wedding dress before giving you a smile. “Yuta?” You ask in disbelief. “I can’t believe…”

“That I'm here at your wedding? Neither can I.” He laughs a little, surveying the venue hall before focusing on you again. “Taeyong invited me.” You stare at him in surprise. He shrugs. “We are business partners and all.” He grabs a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter’s dish. “Surprisingly, it seems that your husband and I work well together.”

You bite your tongue but can’t seem to hold the words back. “How can we know that you’re not going to split and attack us again when you’ve recovered enough power?”

He blinks. “What, and repeat the same cycle that ended me up here? Don’t worry. I’m not that stupid, sweetheart.” He says, and suddenly, you’re the one who feels stupid. “You look beautiful by the way. Your father would have been proud.” Emotion grips you without warning. Yuta gives you a final smile and turns away, sipping his champagne as he disappears in the mesh of guests and dancing.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of chatter, smiles, drinks, dancing and food. When the night ends, you and Taeyong climb into his car to the whoops and hollers of the crowd, and drive back to his place. You both would have been tipsy out of your mind and gone straight to bed, but since you can’t drink, Taeyong refuses to as well, claiming emotional support. That leaves time for other things.

“Alright, how do you want this to go down?” You ask, undoing your jewelry in front of his vanity.

Taeyong laughs, unzipping your dress when you offer your back to him. “You mean for our wedding night?” You nod as you slip off the gown and sigh at the freedom of not being weighed down by a thousand pounds of fabric. He eyes you as you undo the rest of your jewelry, your hair and underclothes. “I can think of one thing.” 

“And what’s that?” You ask, catching sight of him through the mirror. He’s leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed, still dressed in his tux but without the jacket, looking as handsome as ever. 

"I think I'd like to be your plaything for a while.” Your brain grinds to a halt. You turn to blankly stare at him. He smirks. "What's the matter?” He reaches out to place his hands on your hips. "I promise I won't resist whatever you want to do to me.”

You swallow thickly. “You’re teasing me.”

"Oh, I'm not teasing you at all, love,” He smiles softly, his hands tightening slightly around your hips. "I'm giving myself up to you.” You blink hard. A former kingpin at the complete mercy of his wife. Just the thought of it has heat blazing through your body. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. "Play with me, tease me, do this however you want. I’m yours,” his lips brush your jaw. “I’ll be your good boy.”

You inhale deeply as his arms wrap around your waist and press you to him. “You’ll do anything?” He hums in acknowledgement, kissing down your neck. “Alright,” you test, “kneel for me.”

He smirks, and steps away from you. He then kneels down, lowering himself until his knees hit the ground and he’s peering up at you. “You… you actually did it.” you breathe.

His eyes dance with amusement. "What, did you expect me to disobey you?” He chuckles softly, and his eyes going dark. "Or is it just seeing me on my knees that's making you lose your train of thought?”

“Uh… yes.. it's the knees.”

He grins, reaching out to caress your calf. “Now what should I do?”

“I don't know. I didn't think I'd get this far.”

He laughs. Then, he takes your hand and begins kissing your palm. “Use me, love.”

Heat flares in your stomach. You cup his cheek gently. “Would anyone have suspected the mob king lord of everything was so submissive? And obedient at that?”

He nuzzles into your hand. “I think they all know me pretty well. Besides, I’m only like this for you.”

“Hmm,” you move your hand to cup his chin and rest your thumb on his bottom lip. You do it out of curiosity, but his lips close around your thumb without hesitation. His dark eyes burn into yours as his tongue circles your thumb. You are struck with a flashback to that evening in the office, how he held you down against his desk with his gaze burning into yours and ate you within an inch of your life. Heat burns and pools through your body. You pull your hand away, tug him up to stand again and kiss him hard. He groans into your lips, arms wrapping tightly around your waist and mouth parting immediately to grant you entrance. He lets you completely dominate the kiss, your tongue sliding past his lips. His demeanor is so different from that time in his office. He’s much more vocal now, whiney even. His lips are soft and pliant, his brows knitted in slight desperation, his hands roaming over your body. You break for air and plant kisses under his jaw.

“My good boy,” you mumble. His eyes flutter closed and he releases a loud groan. You pull away to take him in. His lips are stained from your lipstick, his hair that was neatly combed before now slightly messy, his dress shirt rumpled, eyes lidded and mouth panting. “Get on the bed.” He obeys quickly. You watch as he settles against the headboard before waiting for your next order, his eyes expectant and eager to please. “Take off your vest and shirt.” He listens without complaint. He tilts his head back to undo the tie at his collar before throwing it to the floor, then unbuttons his vest and dress shirt underneath. He works with urgency, nimble fingers determinedly undoing every part of his ensemble all because you asked. 

Now free from your garments except your slip underdress, you comfortably climb onto the bed to rest beside him. His dark eyes fixate on you as the final button is undone. He tears off his dress shirt and throws it off to the side, revealing his familiar bare torso that encourages your eyes to run across his tattoos.“You’re beautiful,” you mumble before leaning over and kissing him deep. He melts immediately, hands cupping your cheeks to pull you closer. You pull away abruptly to leave hot, open mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck until he’s groaning lowly and melting into the mattress. You nip his skin with the slightest nick of your teeth as you travel down to his collarbone. It has a profound effect on him, pulling shallow breaths and moans from his lips. Your lips travel over his heart and down his chestline. His breathing turns harsh, and moans grow louder. You opt then to lick down his abdomen, leaving him shivering. 

You glance up at him. You figure your gaze must have been dark and full of lust because he looks completely wrecked and held immobile. His cheeks are flushed, lips stained red, pupils dilated. You maintain eye contact as you kiss and lick and nip down the rest of his abdomen, urging his muscles to quiver and flex the lower you go. Once you get to his pantline, he’s already straining against his slacks. You press a final kiss to the spot below his navel, earning a jump of his muscle and a low groan from him, before undoing his belt and tugging the garment completely off his legs, along with his boxers. You don't wait to press kisses to his thighs. His hard cock is so easily within reach but you choose to litter kisses along his hips, thighs, and navel instead. You tease until he’s whimpering and pressing his hips up from the mattress and towards your mouth. When you kiss the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, he gasps, tangles his fingers in your hair and moans. “Please, Y/n.” 

“Please what?”

His hazy eyes manage to focus on you. “Please stop teasing.” 

You hum, moving to suck the juncture of his pelvis while your hand not-so-accidentally grazes his balls. “You mean like this?”

He gasps harshly, fingers tightening in your hair, head tilting against his pillow. “Y-Yes, yes like that.”

“But I don’t want to stop. Not until you’re completely gone, and begging and teary for me.” You see him swallow, eyes darkening a few shades. He barely has time to find a response before you’re back to kissing, sucking, and biting his thighs until he’s panting and whining once more. After a few more minutes, you can tell that his mental cohesion is slipping. His brows are knitted, bottom lip bitten and red, eyes helpless with the slightest hint of desperate tears.

“Please, please, please Y/n,” he babbles, gasping at your tongue on his hip bone. His hands are still in your hair and you allow them to stay there so long as he isn't forcing your head towards where he needs you the most.

“Just a little longer. You said you wanted to be my plaything, didn’t you?”

He shivers at that, eyes clenching shut. His cheeks are flush much more now. “I can’t take it anymore.”

You hum as you mouth along his pelvis. “Tell me what you want.”

“You mouth,” he moans brokenly.

“You already have my mouth,” you say, pointedly ignoring the straining, leaking cock within reach.

His eyes fly open when you mouth his balls, suckling the skin. He shivers hard, eyes rolling back. He pants harshly, fighting to remember words. He trembles under you, hands shaky in your hair. “On my cock, please, please.”

“As you wish.” When your lips close around his cock finally,  his face twists into a pained grimace. You slowly stroke him with your lips, tongue swirling around his length, pulling harsher breaths and shivers from him. His eyelids flutter and are so deeply lidded they are almost closed. He seems to fight to keep them open if only to take in the sight of you between his legs. You take him up till his base, enveloping him entirely with his mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. He arches and releases a deep groan. He twitches in your mouth, and you realize he’s already close. You take the liberty to speed up, your lips meeting the hilt each time, tongue swirling around his length. He gasps harshly for breath, back arching, hips trembling and bucking up to meet you before you hold them down with your hands. You suck him faster, making his moans grow higher in pitch until he’s suddenly seizing up, tight and still, his head pressing back into the pillows and back arched beautifully. His warmth fills your mouth and you groan, relishing it as you swallow. He’s shaking everywhere as collapses on the bed with another breathless moan. 

You continue licking him clean while he pants to catch his breath. He’s still hard in your mouth, you realize, and you can’t help continue sucking him until he’s flinching and tugging you off of him by your hair. “Ah, too much.” You relent, thinking you’re tormented him enough for one night, and press a final kiss to his hip. He pulls you up to kiss him, hands reverently cupping your cheeks, mouth and tongue moving leisurely against you. When he pulls away, he has stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing.”

You laugh. “It was that good, huh?”

He presses another kiss. “I think I almost blacked out.”

You laugh. He guides your leg over his hip to straddle him comfortably. You kiss his palm. “Y/n,” his eyes shine, cheeks still flushed. “Tell me I’m perfect.” You blink at him and he explains. “The first day you came to us, when we talked in my office, I told you I looked like a toad and you said I was perfect.” He flushes “I couldn't tell you at the time how it made me feel, but now I can.” He kisses your hand. “Tell me I’m perfect. Tell me everything.”

Your heart melts at his pleading, vulnerable eyes. You hope he knows you’ll give him everything he asks for. You give him a soft kiss. “You’re perfect,” you say, watching his eyes glow with your praise. You litter kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “You’ve always been perfect. You’re sweet and strong and kind and you’re mine. Absolutely perfect.”

He shivers and groans, hands pulling you roughly against his lips to kiss you. You melt into him, hands running through his hair, breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne. You slip off your underdress and the rest of your garments, watching his eyes darken. When you straddle him again, you’re already so wet from having him in your mouth from before. You slide him in easily up til the hilt, pleasure bursting across your eyelids while he grips your hips like a vice, lips parted and head tilted back against the pillows. This time, it’s slow and passionate, just like your first. You bend low to kiss him and barely allow a few inches of distance the entire time you ride him. You relish his groans, his fluttering eyes. Praises fall from your lips in abundance, without pause or restraint, and you watch the flush of his cheeks grow darker after each one until he's vulnerable and moaning and tucking his head into your neck, coming inside you a second time with a broken whimper. It hurls you towards your own edge, gripping and contracting around his length as you hold onto him for dear life.

When the moments passed, the vice grips on each other loosen, and both of you catch your breath. He doesn’t let you roll off him onto the mattress. Instead he holds you close, pressing one hand to your stomach, which still looks barely different than before, but his eyes shine as if the baby is already here. 

...

The rest of the pregnancy is blissful. It consists of buying baby items, picking out names, cleaning out Taeyong’s guest room and setting it up for the baby, though both of you know it will probably end up sleeping in your room with the guest room used for nothing other than storage. As the date approaches, Taeyong gets increasingly more anxious. You try to calm him and redirect his focus to baby proofing the entire penthouse, which works well. He’s adorable, nervous and tittering, worried if he’ll be a good enough father. You remind him again and again that he will be.

When the day finally comes and contractions erupt and you’re whisked away to the hospital, Taeyong is a mess. Jungwoo even visits to calm him down, which works. By the end of a long day, a baby girl is born. He’s absolutely enamored, and has her in his arms all night, rocking her gently, cooing and speaking soft words that have her falling quiet to listen. Sometimes, he remembers to tear his eyes away to give you a teary, beaming smile. It’s enough to make you the happiest person alive. Upon coming home, it takes many sleepless nights for you two to get the hang of it - the feeding, the crying, the burping. Within a few weeks, though, it’s a natural order, a timetable, a cycle. Tonight is one of those rare ones when you’ve miraculously gotten the baby to sleep a few hours longer. Taeyong and you relish the few moments of quiet and try to get some sleep.

“You’re a good mother, you know,” he mumbles sleepily in bed, arm thrown around your waist. “I’m glad she looks like you.”

His words envelop you in warmth. “I think she looks more like you, actually. Don’t you see her giant brown eyes that take up half her face?”

He chuckles and makes your heart flutter even after all this time. “My eyes are not that big.” 

You cup his cheek. “They are and they’re wonderful and I’m glad she has them.”

He cheeks warm under your palm. He pulls you close and kisses you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A high pitched, piercing cry rings out, startling you both before you’re groaning. “She gets that voice from you, though,” he says.

“She does not!” You complain. He gives you a pointed look at your near screech of protest. “Fine, maybe a little.”

He chuckles, stopping you from slipping out of bed. “I’ll get her, don’t worry. Get some sleep.” You sigh in thanks.He presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s slipping out the door. The piercing crying suddenly quiets down once his coos interrupt the noise and soon, the house is silent with no sound other than a baby’s whimpers and your husband’s soft words. 

In that moment you’re grateful for all the choices you’ve been able to make. 

[kittievampire]

idk if you’ve done this yet but like

i just need an mc that’s just sexually frustrated and lowkey touch startled like hello, you live with the living embodiment of Lust, that’s gotta hurt especially when he’s talkin bout his latest hookup while gossiping and mc’s just like “yeh that sounds.. like you had a wonderful time” words just so fulla jealousy and hurt

okay big word wall, im sorry, it’s late and this app is a bit buggish

teal deer: sexually frustrated maybe touch starved mc just wanna get dicked down hard by anyone at this point. your choice of who, cuz let’s face it all the available options are a good contender for our poor unfortunate soul

Hhhhhhh YES

I spun a wheel of names for this one lmao

Lemme see what I have in my bag, my dear~

Click here if you wanna request!

Relief

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Wet Dreams, Implied Non-Con Somnophilia (MC wants it when waking up after), Teasing, Degradation, Edging, Breathplay, Slight Dacryphilia, Creampie

Enjoy.

"Fuck!" You cried out, rage and frustration laced in your voice.

Tears welled up in your eyes, half of the duvet on the floor from your incessant squirming, and a hand between your legs, that's what your situation had you reduced to. Anyone else would've been embarrassed to be in this state. And you would've been too, had you not been so desperate to get off.

You slipped your fingers out of you, flipping your body over and slumping against your bed in defeat. You glanced at your D.D.D., tapping it twice to see the picture of the youngest sin you'd set as your lock screen, date, and time.

7:40pm

It'd been two hours.

You pushed your face against the pillow and screamed against it, your sounds being muffled by the soft material.

Two hours and you couldn't cum once?!

Have the gods forsaken you? It wasn't your fault you were, quite literally, kidnapped and sent to Hell! You didn't do anything but breathe to end up here!

You clicked your tongue, pulling the duvet back up from the floor and over your heated figure.

"At this point, I'll just go fucking atheist," You grumbled, eyes sealing shut as you let sleep whisk you away, hopefully to a land where you'd get some relief.

_

The Avatar of Sloth was never one to purposefully eavesdrop on conversations you and his brothers had. He respected your privacy, he truly did. It's just that you decided to have such conversations in front of him. Granted, he did have his head down, but that didn't mean he was asleep. He was trying to be, but he couldn't with what you were talking about!

"It was the worst thing I've ever felt in my life," Asmodeus sighed, taking a sip of his Demonus as he rambled on about one of his hook-ups. "Like, honestly, you can't talk that much game and be horrible in bed. You get it, right, MC?" The sin glanced at the tired and irritated expression on your face. You were practically seething, not only at the fact that he was bragging but the fact that he couldn't even tell that you were upset. "Totally," You grumbled out.

Belphegor shifted in his spot, biting his lip and looking down at his lap. It was surprising that his brother couldn't tell how frustrated you were, being the Avatar of Lust and all. Anyone could tell that you were struggling to keep your cool, and he knew why. He'd see it all the time in those wet dreams of yours.

The ones where you'd seduce him in an empty classroom at RAD, or where you'd guide him to Lucifer's room to fuck in his bed (he should consider that for one of his next pranks). Whenever he'd penetrate your dreams, he'd always wake up hard as a rock.

He had considered confronting you about it, but figured he should back off.

That was until the two of you decided to have a sleepover in the attic.

_

You had dark circles under your eyes from how late you'd stay up trying to get yourself off. Nothing worked. Even the wet dreams you had only served to make the hours of sleep you get decrease severely due to the number of times you wake up horny and decided to take a shot at masturbating. Then, of course, you'd be up a majority of the night with a fruitless endeavor for relief. You were pissed, but you figured that you might be able to sleep properly if you got help from the Avatar of Sloth.

"Can't you, like, put me to sleep or something?" You asked, holding a pillow close to your chest. Belphegor shrugged. "I guess I could. The only issue is I'm not sure how long you'll be out." You wave your hand in dismissal, placing the pillow under your head while throwing the blanket over your and Belphie's bodies. "Make me sleep for days for all I care, just put me to sleep, yeah? I haven't gotten a full night's rest in so long."

The seventh-born chuckled and pat you on the forehead. "Alright, goodnight, MC," He whispered softly into your ear as he gently placed one of his hands over your eyes. Your breathing slowed as you felt drowsiness course through your veins and relax your muscles, readying you for slumber.

"G'night... Belphie..."

_

The feeling of pleasure was what you yearned for, what you chased after. However, as soon as you'd feel its warm embrace around your body, wrapped around you like a blanket, it'd always seem to disappear from your grasp. Nothing was good enough, not even the dreams you had about the youngest brother.

This one, though, was quite interesting.

You were in the attic, the same place you fell asleep in Belphegor's arms. However, your face was pushed into the pillow and your ass was in the air, his hand planted in your hair to keep you in such a degrading position. He mocked you, teased you, and fucked you so well.

"Look at you and your needy little pussy, MC," He chuckled, thrusting his cock into the warmth that was your cunt, hips bucking into your ass and thighs. "Honestly, don't you have any shame? Walking around the House of Lamentation all horny, practically begging for someone to fuck you."

All you could let out were mindless babbles as he slammed his cock deep inside of your warmth, the tip bullying that same spot that made your vision go fuzzy. You whined out his name into the pillow, only causing him to push your face further into it. "What are you over there saying, hm? I can't hear you."

The lewd way that his balls clapped against your cunt was sending the pleasure you were experiencing straight to your brain, then back down to your pussy. Your walls convulsed around him, feeling that relief just inches away from you. Just a few thrusts away and—

Belphegor pulled out of you, delivering a spiteful smack to your ass as you whined at the loss. "No! No, no, nonono!" Tears formed in your eyes as your orgasm was denied. His hand moved your hair to the side before gently pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your neck. "You're so cute when you're desperate, MC," He murmured softly, running the palms of his hands along your thighs and slowly up your ass, giving it a squeeze of appreciation. His touch was stimulating, but your peak was already too far out of reach, and you weren't going to cum anytime soon without him pleasing you. Knowing this, you pushed your ass backward, causing it to collide with his pelvis as his cock slipped between your thighs.

"Please," You begged softly, beginning to move your legs so that your thighs would rub his still-hardened cock. With a low groan, Belphie gripped your hair once more. "Please what, MC? Use your words." He ground his hips against your ass, one of his hands reaching under you to gently cup your exposed breast.

"Please, Belphie, I wanna cum," You whimpered out, blushing at the sound of his chuckle in response. "You're so needy, aren't you?"

Suddenly, you felt something push the lips of your cunt apart with its entry, letting out a soft whine. Something of similar length and size penetrated you as well, gently thrusting into your pussy. You gasped in confusion. His hands were on your ass and your breast, and his cock was between your thighs.

What the hell?

_

Your eyes shot wide open as you felt your body temperature rising. One of your legs was hoisted up with Belphie's hand while the other was inside of your shorts and panties, thrusting his fingers into your cunt. He gently nibbled on your neck and smiled as he watched you stir to consciousness.

"Welcome back, MC." You could feel his smile on your neck as he pressed a kiss to it. "I wonder what you were dreaming about that got you so wet down here," He teased, thumb beginning to rub slow, lazy circles over your clit as his fingers thrusted into you slowly.

You let out a sharp gasp as you gripped the bedsheets, closing your eyes and shivering as he pressed his tongue against your neck, gently gliding it over your skin. "You seemed so agitated lately... Are you sure sleep was all you needed?" He curled his fingers, making you whine. You reached one of your hands down, almost as if trying to stop the stimulation despite enjoying it so much, only for the hand that held your leg up to grab your wrist. Your leg now resting on his forearm, he leaned in close so that his lips were an inch from your ear. "If you do that kind of thing, I'm gonna start thinking you want me to stop."

You felt your heart drop at his threat, immediately lifting your leg higher to give him more access to your cunt. "That's a good girl." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, continuing his soft administrations.

However, you were quick to grow restless. You'd been trying desperately to relieve yourself for weeks, and he was going far too slow for your liking. While you didn't particularly mind him slowly pulling you apart before making love to you, you wanted him to break you, fuck you senseless into the mattress. Though, maybe you were a bit too prideful to admit that. Instead, you keened and began to roll your hips down, feeding more of his fingers into your sopping heat. Belphegor raised a brow, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "What are you doing there, MC? Is there something you want to tell me?" You caught your lower lip between your teeth, muffling a moan as you buried your face in the pillow, not wanting to give him an answer for fear of embarrassment.

"Tch,"

You heard a squelching noise as his fingers abandoned your pussy, which only made you gasp and start whining. "W-Wait! No, I was—" You cut yourself off with a small sob as you felt that familiar pleasure escape you once more. The sin pushed your shoulder down to the bed, climbing ontop of you and pulling down his pants with a small sigh. "You're so picky about what you get, aren't you? I didn't know you were so spoiled." He flicked his tongue against the tips of his fingers before launching that same hand to your throat, capturing it in a near-vice-like grip. "You want to be treated like a whore, don't you?" He pulled down your shorts and panties. "Here I was thinking I'd have to treat you all nice and stuff," He teased, a small grin forming on his face as he ground his hardened cock against your slit.

"Fine. I won't hold back then."

With that, he lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance and shoved himself between your folds, letting out a soft groan as he forced himself deep into your heat in one go. Your cunt fluttered at the stretch, and you cried out in pleasure. That ache in your stomach that had been bugging you for weeks was nearly gone. Bottoming out almost immediately, the Avatar of Sloth gave you no time to adjust. It didn't take you long to, but it would have been easier if he didn't start pounding into you from the get-go. His hand clenched around your neck, blocking your airways just enough to where you could still breathe somewhat, but your oxygen was limited. You gently wrapped your hands around his wrist, letting out choked whines as he fucked you into the bed.

"Poor lamb—" He smiled— "How frustrated have you been that your pretty little cunt is this needy? I don't even have to move that much, it's sucking me in every time I pull out," He teased, lifting your leg to press a kiss to your ankle. His hips maintained their merciless pace, the tip of his cock bullying your G-spot with its constant abuse.

Your walls were constricting around his shaft, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter as your orgasm neared. Finally, that relief that you'd been craving was closer than ever. Your eyes rolled back as you clenched your teeth, nails digging into the flesh of his wrist.

So close, so fucking close.

Belphegor hummed at your expression, brushing his bangs out of his face as his magenta eyes scanned your body. "This isn't right," He murmured, pulling his still-hardened cock out of you and removing his hand from your throat. You gasped for air, taking in as much as you could before letting out a sob, tears forming in your eyes. "No! Why?"

The youngest brother snickered at your protest, grabbing your hips and flipping you over. "Was this the position we were in in that dream of yours?" He asked. Before you could answer, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your face into the pillow, bullying his cock into your pussy once more.

A muffled cry erupted from your throat and could barely reach his ears due to the pillow he'd shoved your face in as he began to thrust once more. "Jeez, you really are a slut aren't you? You like this kind of stuff?" He laughed softly to compliment his sweet tone and contradict his harsh words and demeaning actions.

Skin slapping against skin, squelching, muffled cries of pleasure, and soft grunts from the disheveled seventh-born were filling the room, bouncing off of the walls and drowning out the sound of flickering flames coming from the fireplace. You were close to your climax again. Whimpering into the pillow, almost as if begging him not to stop again, you gently clasped one of your hands over his. He looked down at your hip, where now both of your hands were placed. He let out a small groan as he felt himself getting closer the more sounds you made.

"Fuck," He grunted out. "Gonna cum... You want me to fill you up, huh? Like in your dreams? I can do that if you say please." Belphie growled at the sound of your muffled moans in response, pulling your hair to bring your head up so you could speak. "Go on then, beg for it."

"Please! P-Please, please, need it! N-Need it, please, Belphie!" You choked out between sobs and mewls of pleasure.

Your tongue lulled out of your mouth as his cock pushed against your cervix, your walls clenching as your orgasm washed over you. His cum coated in your juices, he slammed into you once more, balls pushing against your cunt as he came. His hips stuttered as he rode out his orgasm, fucking his cum deeper into you.

When he pulled out, you collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily with a thin layer of sweat coating your body. Belphegor didn't even attempt to fix his clothes, merely throwing them off and brushing his hair back, smiling in amusement at how the white liquid he'd gifted you spilled out of your opening.

One moment, he was pulling your clothes off to make you more comfortable. The next, your nude body was pushed up against his for cuddling.

"Sweet dreams, MC."

Hope you liked it, anon!

Masterlist

[2baabbies]

🖤 Holding Back from You (hyunchanlix x reader part 3; stray kids x reader)

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 (WIP)

Pairings: established hyunchanlixreader, established background minsung, slight references to past hyunebini?

Words: 16220

Summary: Holding back from you is never easy for Chan. You and your boyfriends are aware of this fact when Chan suggests switching your dynamic and trying a new kink, hoping it might help him destress. You expect a challenge, but you, Felix, and Hyunjin are happy to try anything if it means helping your overworked boyfriend. (song quote and fic title are from Taylor Swift’s ‘Dress’)

Fluff + Smut + Humour + Slight Angst/Comfort

afab+fem!reader

CWs: nsfw, cringe jokes I’m sorry, insecure/burnt out chan, insults/swearing at each other (but with love), drinking alcohol (it’s wine babes; no dubcon they’re not even drunk), crying during sex, “tough love” treatment (might seem mean idk), gratuitous pet names, uhh this fic ended up being hyunchan focused but felix is loved too I promise 🫶🏻

Smut Tags: pegging, mommy/daddy kink (but like, not who you would expect?), discussing kink/kink exploration, dom/sub dynamics (sub!felix trying to dom, dom!chan trying to sub, soft and mean dom!reader, switch!hyunjin), communication during sex, color system for safewords, teasing, begging, praise, slight degradation, chan and felix are a little bratty, some dumbification, choking and breathplay (chan), virginity roleplay (hyunjin), rough sex/manhandling (chan), anal fingering, overstim, dacryphilia?? (no one’s really getting off on it, chan just needs to cry his feels out), chair sex, aftercare (including hyunlix in the background), cunnilingus, unsafe/unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be like these fools)

Taglist: @bookswillfindyouaway @rixenluv

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation or to train AI, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are always welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘I’m spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we’re both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you’

The coziness of Chan’s bedroom is unlike anything you have ever experienced. While not quiet, it brings you a certain tranquility that you have never quite been able to capture on your own. The downtime you spend in this room with your boyfriends has turned into little fragments of your own personal Heaven. You look forward to every second you can steal with them between their busy schedules. You are all together now, crammed into Chan’s bed with only the purple lights on the wall to illuminate you. Music is playing in the background, instrumental tracks Chan arranged himself. You recognize some of them as being released songs, and some are still only demos. Waiting for Chan to perfect them and release them to your beloved Stays.

Felix is closest to you, letting you use his chest as a pillow. His brow is furrowed as he reads something on his phone. You could turn your head and easily see his screen, but you are too tired to care. Chan is curled up on his other side, his nose brushing Felix’s shoulder as he mumbles tiredly. His cheek is smushed into the pillow and he is wearing his exhaustion, his face puffier from lack of sleep because of the upcoming album. Hyunjin is spooning him from behind, littering kisses onto his neck and shoulder as they chat drowsily. Their legs are tangled together, and Hyunjin is rubbing soothing circles over Chan’s stomach under his shirt. You are not fully listening to their whispered conversation, but you can see Chan’s playful smile and the slight quirk to Hyunjin’s pouty lips.

Felix speaks and rumbles your ear over his chest, “I don’t know how people only adopt one cat…”

“Stop looking at cats,” Hyunjin orders.

“But this one is named Sprinkle and she has a sister named Cupcake…”

“Baby,” You whisper, “You’re just gonna make yourself sad. You know you can’t adopt a kitten right now.”

“I could…”

Chan chuckles. You hear clattering and shouting in the kitchen as Jisung and Changbin begin to argue over something.

“I don’t think you should subject an animal to our chaos. It’s bad enough y/n has to deal with it.”

Hyunjin raises his head to frown at Chan.

“Are you comparing our girlfriend to a pet?”

“No,” Chan mutters.

“Meow,” You offer.

“She’s certainly as cute as a kitten,” Felix says.

“Am I?”

You flutter your eyelashes and Hyunjin sighs dreamily, nestling back into his spot with Chan.

“Yeah, my kitten,” Felix replies.

“I’ll be your kitten.”

“Discord kitten?”

Felix smirks at you and Hyunjin groans.

“Ugh, you ruined it.”

Chan snorts as you move to straddle Felix’s lap. Small hands come to rest on your back as you nuzzle your noses together.

“Anything for you, daddy.”

“No,” Hyunjin whines, “Don’t enable him.”

Felix tilts his head, his eyes glinting dangerously.

“Anything?”

Chan smacks your bottom, making you squeak and squirm in Felix’s lap.

“Be good, you two.”

“I didn’t do anything,” You whine, pouting at Felix.

Felix hums and squeezes your plush flesh where Chan had hit you.

“Poor kitten, he’s so mean to you.”

He, rather shamelessly, gropes your backside. You huff and reach back to grab his hands, halting his actions.

“Stop feeling me up.”

“You feel so good, though. I should make you my new stress ball.”

“Ugh, that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said!”

You move his hands up your back as they all laugh at your disappointment. You slump forward and Felix pulls you closer. He pecks a chaste kiss to the top of your head, a peace offering after his mischievous behavior. There is a long pause, a heavy silence that falls over the four of you. It is the kind of silence that usually melds into more silence, and leaves you feeling assured that there is nothing left unsaid. Today the silence does not carry on. You hear a sharp inhale from Chan before he quietly begins another conversation.

“I want to do something.”

“Like what?” Hyunjin replies.

“Like… a kink thing.”

“Right now?” Felix questions.

Chan is already flushed, but he quickly dissolves into a flustered mess at the bold assumption.

“N-Not now… Just… sometime soon, maybe…”

“What is it?” You ask.

The amount of kink exploration you and Chan had done together was not entirely extensive, but you thought you knew all of his preferences and aversions. The line for comfort was still vague in your relationships with Felix and Hyunjin though. Sure, you had established your boundaries at the start of sleeping together, but you were lovers now and were exploring uncharted territory. You can see Chan’s hesitation to continue, and his cautious glance at the bedroom door to ensure the others would not hear his soft confession.

“It’s, um… I’ve just been thinking of like… d-daddy kink stuff.”

You smile fondly at the nervous pitch in Chan’s tone. It is understandable why he would hesitate to bring it up; your group had only ever used ‘daddy’ as a joke. It was a bit of a joke to Chan himself, but you are suspecting now there was some truth behind his façade of mocking it.

“Oh?” Felix prompts, instantly intrigued by the suggestion.

Hyunjin nuzzles Chan’s neck and mumbles, “Oh, that’s not so bad. You’re so anxious, I thought you wanted to try something really extreme. Like, a car battery hooked to your nipples or something.”

You burst out laughing at Hyunjin’s chaotic remark and Felix stares at him, bewildered at what he just said. Chan is still in his own head, and still on course to ramble an explanation for himself.

“B-But not like the usual way. Like the opposite way.”

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin asks.

“L-Like, you don’t call me daddy. I call you daddy… o-o-or m-mommy- whatever you prefer… I think i-it might help me destress. But if it sounds like too much it’s fine, I just want to talk about it a bit- we don’t have to do anything.”

There is a pause that makes Chan hide his face in the crook of Felix’s neck. Felix pecks the top of his head while you give him a patient pat on the arm.

“Chan, do you want to bottom?” Felix eventually asks.

You have to laugh at the abruptness of it, and try to stifle it with your hand when Chan nods shyly into his shoulder. Hyunjin tsks and leaves a butterfly kiss on Chan’s shoulder as he murmurs:

“That’s what you’re nervous about? What, you think Felix and I can’t top you?”

“N-No, I just… I’m always domming everyone, so like… I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Oh, Channie,” You coo.

“We wouldn’t be disappointed,” Felix assures, “And we’re happy to switch things up for you. Whoever you need, we want to make you feel good.”

Hyunjin hums in agreement.

“You always do it for us. Felix and I can manage to switch it up for you.”

You pout.

“What about me? Is pegging not on the table?”

Chan snickers and peeks up as you straighten in Felix’s lap and cross your arms. The youngest stares in confusion, only slightly less offended by your outburst than when Hyunjin brought up the car battery. Hyunjin in turn looks mildly perturbed.

“Since when do you peg us?” He asks.

“Since- whenever- I’ve pegged Channie before.”

“When?”

“I don’t know! A while ago!”

“You never peg me!”

“You never asked!”

“Alright, alright,” Felix interrupts, “Let’s put a pin in this. This is about Chan right now. We’ll come back to pegging later.”

Chan is laughing hysterically at you and Hyunjin as you throw your arms up in frustration. Your boyfriend glares softly in retaliation.

“We will be coming back to this,” Hyunjin asserts, “You were saying, Chan?”

Chan rolls onto his back, no longer hiding but still undeniably embarrassed by the conversation.

“Ah… I don’t like asking for what I want… I feel too… needy.”

“Do you know what you want?” You ask.

He shifts.

“Maybe…”

Hyunjin rests his head over Chan’s heart and lets one of his hands slip under the fabric covering his abs once again. Your mind gets sidetracked imagining Chan’s pattering heart, and how hot his flushed skin must be right now.

“You said you needed to destress,” Felix prompts, “Did you want us to treat it like a special occasion? Make it part of a selfcare day, or something?”

Chan strokes Hyunjin’s arm as he considers the option, then he nods hesitantly.

“Yeah, I think so… Um, it would be great if we were alone.”

“We can handle that,” Hyunjin assures, “We’ll make sure we have the house to ourselves.”

“Total privacy,” You reiterate, “No sneaking around. You’ll be able to fully let go.”

Chan swallows as he nods at the promise.

“Right.”

“Anything else, Channie?” Felix invites.

“No… I just want to make sure you’re all okay with it. If it’s too weird we don’t have to do it.”

“I’m into it,” You reply.

“Yeah, I’d be good with trying it,” Felix agrees.

“It’s not too weird, baby. We’re all comfortable, what’s important is that you’re ready to trust us,” Hyunjin says.

“I am… It’s just so hard for me to calm down lately. I-If there’s something you can do to make me relax before we try it, I think it would help a lot.”

“We’ll take care of you, Channie,” You purr, caressing his cheek, “We’ll be gentle with you. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“Thank you…”

“Just let us take care of it,” Hyunjin adds, “You can just sit back and look pretty.”

“Ah… You know that’s not always one of my strengths…”

“You can do it,” Felix insists, “You’ve got the looking pretty part mastered already.”

Chan shakes his head, then whines when Hyunjin tucks his face into his neck and begins littering kisses there.

“Channie you’re so cute, what do you mean?”

“A-Ah, I dunno…”

He squirms from the attention Hyunjin is giving him. Your head perks up as Jisung enters the room.

“Yo, what are you guys doing?”

“Talking about pegging,” You answer nonchalantly.

Felix chokes while Hyunjin stops his assault on Chan’s neck to sit up and point at you.

“We will be talking about it. Prepare yourself.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

Jisung clicks his tongue.

“Well, alright. Supper is ready, you sexy freaks. Come get it before Bin eats it all.”

Hyunjin leaves one last kiss on Chan’s cheek before scooting off the bed. Chan makes a show of wiping his neck and face clean before the three of you follow your boyfriend out of the room.

It is later that same week that you, Felix, and Hyunjin put your plan into action. Chan is preoccupied in his bedroom, headphones on as he works away at his laptop. You peek in his doorway, noting his comfy sweats and the large black hoodie he threw on before resigning himself to editing his newest tracks. He does not notice you, too immersed in his work, so you find your other boyfriends in Hyunjin’s room and give them a thumbs up.

“He’s very stressed.”

Felix snorts.

“Why did that get a thumbs up?”

“Because this would be the perfect time to help him destress?”

Hyunjin throws a mocking thumbs up.

“Our boyfriend is having a bad time.”

Felix follows suit.

“Our boyfriend has anxiety!”

“Okay, dicks.”

You are still smiling despite their jokes. They meet you in the doorway, and Felix nods down the hall.

“I’ll take care of Han, if you two can get rid of Bin?”

“Can do,” Hyunjin whispers.

He follows your lead to the kitchen, where Changbin is making a snack. Hyunjin quietly leans against the counter, failing to look casual as he poses suavely. You roll your eyes at his shenanigans and clear your throat before speaking up.

“Hey, Bin.”

Changbin looks over his shoulder, assesses Hyunjin’s pose, then nods at you.

“Oh, hey.”

“What are you up to?”

“Just going to eat something then head to the gym for a bit. You?”

You smirk at Hyunjin as he tries to lounge against the counter, and instead accidentally knocks over a metal bowl that loudly clangs when it hits the floor. Changbin slowly turns, his brow gently furrowed as Hyunjin scrambles to tidy it up.

“We’re, uh,” Hyunjin clears his throat, “We’re just gonna hang out here.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?”

Changbin smiles innocently, but you see a knowing glint in his eyes when Hyunjin blushes at the question.

“You know. Doing something special together.”

“Something sexy?”

Hyunjin sputters.

“Maybe,” You tease.

“And you didn’t invite me?”

You cock your eyebrow up and look at Hyunjin, who falters before responding, “I didn’t know… You’d be into it…”

Changbin rolls his eyes.

“Well, you know, I’m open-minded?”

You giggle as Hyunjin covers his face and Changbin casually begins packing up his snack.

“Well, Bin, why don’t we talk about it sometime? Maybe then we’ll ask you to join us?” You offer.

Changbin keeps his back to you, but you can see the tips of his ears reddening.

“U-Um, it’s okay…”

Hyunjin tilts his head as Changbin finishes and steps past you swiftly, his head lowered to hide his flushed cheeks.

“I’ll, uh, spend some extra time at the gym. Stay out of your way.”

“You may want to catch a movie after that. Just to be safe,” You suggest playfully.

“Ah. Understood.”

Jisung leans in the doorway with his overnight bag as Changbin exits, and calls after him:

“Min’s on his way, if you want a drive. And, you know, somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“Yeah, I’ll be ready in a second.”

Jisung faces you and Hyunjin then shakes his head.

“Sexy freaks.”

“Takes one to know one,” Hyunjin shoots back.

Jisung grins and blows him a kiss before walking away.

Once Changbin and Jisung have left, you and Felix take on the task of separating Chan from his laptop while Hyunjin takes care of other matters. You enter Chan’s room carefully. He is on the floor now, back supported against his bed as he listens to his work. You can see him replaying the track on loop, brow furrowed as he searches for the missing piece. Felix kneels on the bed, drawing Chan’s attention as he feels the shift behind him. He looks over his shoulder and smiles, pulling down his headphones to hear you.

“Hey.”

“Hi, baby,” You greet as you sit beside him.

Felix sits behind him and dances his fingers over his shoulders before finding a troublesome knot and working at it. You caress Chan’s arm and offer him a sympathetic smile as he sighs and slumps in his spot.

“Tired?” Felix asks.

“No… just frustrated…”

You slide your hand over to rub his chest, your gaze softening as his eyebrows pinch.

“Ready for a break?” You suggest.

“Um… maybe a short one.”

He notes the silent agreement that happens when you and Felix lock eyes.

“Ah.”

“Channie,” Felix begins, as you slowly close his laptop and pull it from his lap, “This can wait until tomorrow, yeah?”

“U-Um, m’not sure…”

Felix is still working away his tension, humming softly to himself as he targets a particularly difficult spot. You feign disappointment, tsking in Chan’s ear before you gently catch his lobe between your teeth. He groans, lets you nip behind his jawline and tease his earrings with light flicks of your tongue.

“Please, Channie?”

“Mhm, well…”

You leave his side, hiding his laptop in his dresser drawer as Felix speaks in his ear.

“You deserve a break. Come on, let’s go.”

Chan offers little protest, he knows how futile it is at this point. When he stands you return to his side and take his hands, guiding him to follow you down the hall. Felix follows close behind. He loops his arms around Chan’s middle and pecks the back of his head with each step. You lead Chan to the bathroom, where Hyunjin has been hard at work.

A steamy bubble bath is waiting for Chan when you enter. Hyunjin is changing through playlists on his phone, stuck on making a decision when the three of you enter. He is wearing nothing but a pair of black silk pajama pants, giving you clear view of his muscled upper body and a not so subtle peek at the outline of his cock under the fabric. Chan pauses to drink him in before shyly looking away.

“You didn’t have to do all this… for me…”

“Oh trust, there’s more,” Felix sings.

You tug gently at the bottom of Chan’s sweater and kiss his shoulder.

“Strip down, baby. We have lots planned for you.”

“Oh, I forgot,” Hyunjin curses himself, “Hold on.”

He decides on a playlist and breezes out of the room while Chan pulls off his sweater. He chuckles when Felix snaps the band of his sweats.

“Don’t wait on him. Get to it, please.”

“Wow, bossy.”

“I said please.”

Chan obliges, strips himself down and eases himself into the tub with a giggle when you take his hand and help him in. You kiss the top of his head as Felix undresses, then comes to sit behind him in the water. They settle in and you perch on the edge of the tub to admire them when Hyunjin returns. He holds an open bottle of wine and two nice glasses between his fingers.

“Oh, Jin,” Chan protests, “Don’t waste your good stuff on me.”

Hyunjin gapes.

“It would not be a waste, and I decide what occasions are worth my wine.”

You roll your eyes.

“He means: this moment is special and we thought a glass might mellow you out. But if you don’t want it, or you don’t want us to drink, we can save it for another time.”

Chan chuckles.

“No, wine is good. I’ll have some. It, uh, still feels a bit excessive to bring it out just for me.”

“Just for you,” Felix breathes as he bunches his hair in one hand and reaches the other out to Hyunjin, “You’re adorably humble sometimes, you know, Chris?”

Hyunjin hands him a hair tie then gives you and Chan the two glasses of wine. Chan only blushes and takes a sip to avoid the compliment, while you inspect the maroon liquid sloshing around in your glass.

“Candles,” Hyunjin announces, speaking his thoughts, “It’s time for candles.”

Chan laughs as Hyunjin leaves the room again. You take a sip of your glass then hand it off to Felix, who takes a generous swig before smacking a wet kiss to Chan’s shoulder blade.

“Relax, babe. Lean back a bit. I’ve got you.”

Chan lets out a dramatic little sigh but obeys the order. He lets Felix pull him so his head is resting in his shoulder, and so he sinks more into the water. Felix’s arm wraps tight around his middle. Chan leaves his wine glass on the edge of the tub, and lets himself unwind a little more. You giggle when Felix tilts his head back to take another sip, then nuzzles his nose into Chan’s hair.

“You’re overdue for a good break.”

Chan sighs.

“Seems that way…”

Hyunjin enters the room again with a flourish, dropping a handful of pretty candles on the sink and brandishing a lighter. Chan pinches the bridge of his nose but stifles his complaints. You gather some bubbles from the water and teasingly blow them at Hyunjin. He whips around and flicks the lighter in your direction, three times, until it catches.

“Hey!”

“No,” Chan scolds, “Please, no.”

“We’re supposed to be helping Chan relax,” Felix adds, “What the hell guys?”

“Don’t bring bubbles to a lighter fight,” Hyunjin defends.

“Don’t light your girlfriend on fire,” You argue.

Hyunjin lights the candles and casts a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to get changed?”

“Oh, right. I just wore it under my pjs.”

Chan’s eyebrow lilts slightly.

“‘It?’”

You stand and pull off your top, revealing the bra of your lingerie set. You grin as you catch their attention, Hyunjin even pauses for a moment to give you an once over before continuing his candle lighting. You shimmy your bottoms off and fluff the skirt as it comes untucked. The black satin set is a one-piece, with lace details along the sides. The top is secured in the front with a large bow of ribbon, and tied around your waist is the silky skirt giving the illusion of a dress. You do a little spin and pose as Chan’s hungry eyes take you in.

“Baby, how long were you hiding that from us?”

“Wasn’t a secret for Jinnie or Lix. Look, we match,” You say, tugging at Hyunjin’s pants and gesturing to your own fabric.

“You do. You look lovely.”

“You like it, baby?”

“I do.”

“Good,” Hyunjin purrs as he sets some of the candles on the corner of the tub, “We got something for you as well.”

Felix interrupts Chan as he opens his mouth:

“Don’t say we shouldn’t have. You deserve it, and it’s a treat for us too.”

Chan smiles wryly and responds, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good answer,” Felix whispers.

“Now,” Hyunjin states when he finishes arranging the candles to his liking, “I have some things to finish setting up in my bedroom. I’ll leave you with our darlings to get nice and relaxed, and I’ll come get you when it’s ready. Deal?”

Hyunjin leans down to share a sweet kiss with Chan, who hums in agreement. Hyunjin rests one hand on his chest, then lets it wander up to his shoulder.

“Oh, Channie, you’re still so tense. Why don’t you let Lixie massage that out, hm?”

“Ah, o-okay.”

Hyunjin smiles and takes his leave, turning off the lights as he exits the room. The candles are all that remain to dimly illuminate the space. Felix takes another sip of his wine before handing the glass back to you. You take a seat on the edge of the tub and cross your legs, then prop yourself up with an arm behind you as you watch the two of them. Felix cracks his knuckles and hums in thought as his palms slide over Chan’s shoulders.

“Let’s see, where should I start? What’s sore, baby?”

“Honestly, everywhere is.”

Felix chuckles.

“Oh, well I’ll just start here… and then I’ll make my way everywhere else, hm? Sound good?”

Chan laughs breathlessly and nods.

“Yeah… Thank you.”

“Don’t need to thank me.”

Felix begins his careful but firm massage of Chan’s muscles. He is diligent in the task, only pausing to peck kisses and murmur sweet praises with each knot he works through. Chan’s brow furrows a bit, and he cannot help the little moans and grunts that Felix draws with his deft hands. You leisurely sip your wine and watch them over the glass, locking eyes with Chan as he melts from the attention.

“Drink your wine, honey,” You instruct gently.

Chan’s eyelids flutter and he nods as he picks up the glass and shakily brings it to his lips. You can see his composure cracking as Felix successfully works out the weeks of stress that have literally been weighing on his shoulders. You tilt your head as Chan sighs softly and lets his head fall back on Felix’s shoulder. Felix takes the opportunity to kiss his neck, and smiles into it as Chan groans.

“Feel better?” You ask.

“M’yeah.”

Felix slides his hands around his middle and tentatively squeezes his chest. You giggle as one of his hands slips down to prod at his ribs, while the other cups over his heart.

“Felix.”

“Yes?”

“Stop grabbing me there.”

Felix slides his hands down, but still dances his fingers teasingly over Chan’s sides.

“You don’t like it? You have such pretty tits Chan.”

You wear a satisfied smile when Chan flushes, rosy from his face all the way down his torso where his lower half disappears into the soapy water. He goes to take another sip of his drink and squirms when Felix begins tracing the lines of his abdomen.

“So, so, pretty Channie.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t you agree?”

Chan looks expectantly at you, but you only cock your eyebrow.

“Answer him, lovely.”

“Oh,” Chan stutters, “U-Uh, I guess. If you think so.”

“Tch, baby,” Felix sighs in Chan’s ear, “You’re so perfect. I just want to hear you say it.”

Felix’s hands begin roaming lower, under the water. Chan’s breath hitches and his legs part on instinct. You can see Felix teasing him, ghosting his touch over his thighs and expertly avoiding Chan’s arousal. Felix continues:

“I want you to say it, Chan. Tell me how pretty you are, then I’ll give you what you want.”

Chan swallows thickly and looks at you. You gaze at him through your eyelashes as you lazily drop one of your hands into the water. You do the same as Felix, groping and lightly scratching the inside of his thigh then doing nothing more. 

“Don’t you want us to touch you, Chan?” You prompt.

Chan inhales deeply and turns his face to the side, unable to look at either of you as he considers the task.

“You’ll… touch… I just have to say it?”

“Just say it,” Felix assures, “And be a good boy. We’ll do whatever you ask.”

“A-Ah, okay,” Chan whispers, “Mh-Mhm, m’pretty…”

You laugh softly.

“Again, baby. Tell us more.”

“Hah… I don’t… Can’t…”

“Sure you can,” Felix teases, “You always say it to us. Certainly, you can say it about yourself?”

Chan shakes his head.

“Mhm…”

“‘Channie is so, so, pretty,’” You purr, “Can you repeat that? Say it nice and loud for us?”

You pat his leg and retract your hand from the water. Chan whimpers and ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut when you grab his chin and tilt his head up again.

“Ch-Channie’s… S-So pret-ty…”

“Good boy,” You coo.

Chan huffs as Felix’s hands remain unmoving.

“Y-You’re not seriously going to make me say it again?”

Felix grins.

“Of course not, that was perfect.”

“Th-then why-”

“I told you, we’ll do what you ask. I haven’t heard you ask for it.”

“Felix, please, touch me.”

Chan jolts as Felix fulfills his request. His hips buck as Felix strokes his length, making him fill out in his hand. He groans as Felix grabs his hips and pulls him flush against him.

“You like that?”

“M-Mhm.”

You watch the smirk grow on Felix’s face before he whispers, “Yeah? Tell daddy how much you like it.”

“Oh, fuck,” Chan gasps.

His wine glass topples, and you catch it before it can shatter on the porcelain. This does not save the contents from spilling into the tub, red swirling in the soapy water. Chan shudders and watches it through his lashes as Felix kisses up his neck. You set the empty glass aside and sip your wine.

“I’m waiting,” Felix insists.

Chan groans.

“I like it, Lix. Feels good.”

“Hm? Again?”

Chan curses under his breath at the torturous rhythm enveloping his cock.

“Lix- d-daddy- I like it.”

His body quivers when you grab his chin and tilt his head up to face you.

“Spilled your wine, baby.”

“I-I know, m’sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can share.”

You lovingly brush away a stray hair curling against his forehead. You take a mouthful of wine then lean in to kiss Chan. He moans and returns it eagerly, allowing some of the drink to seep from the corner of his lips. You can feel it run down his chin, and catch his wrist when he reaches up to wipe it away. You draw back with a teasing smile as the red drips down his chest.

“You’re making a mess, honey.”

Chan is given no chance to consider his reply. Felix turns his head and licks his chin clean. Chan groans and watches Felix trail messy kisses down his chest to lap up the stray drops.

“Wow,” Hyunjin voices from the doorway, “Are you having fun?”

Chan whimpers as Felix paws at his chest. Hyunjin comes to stand behind you, leaning against the wall as he observes with you. You wordlessly hand him your glass to finish it off while you watch Chan’s reactions. He squirms when Felix laps at his nipple, then arches his back when Felix’s hands settle around his waist instead of jerking him off.

“Please… Pl-ease, Lix…”

Felix chuckles, a little meanly and looks up to study Chan’s fucked out expression.

“Learn some patience, baby.”

Felix threads his fingers in the dampened curls at the base of Chan’s neck and guides him into a kiss. Chan makes another pitiful sound and turns to meet him properly for it, caging Felix between his arms as he follows him up against the wall. For a second, you think he might try to take the lead, but Hyunjin spoils his plans by running a hand over his broad shoulders then pulling him away from Felix. Felix huffs and pinches his tongue between his teeth as he watches Hyunjin lean in to whisper in Chan’s ear.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, baby. It’s time to get out and see what else we have planned for you.”

Chan nods, sits back to give Felix space to get out of the bath. Hyunjin helps Felix out, giving you the opportunity to guide Chan closer to you. He rests his head against your side, then sinks down to nuzzle your thigh as you run your fingers through his hair. You loop your arm over his shoulder and give him a gentle pat.

“Good, baby?”

“Tired… and hard.”

You laugh and slide your hand to his chin to tilt his head up.

“We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

Chan swallows and nods, eyes fluttering as you carefully close your grip around his throat. Felix smirks as he leaves in a towel, and Hyunjin begins the task of blowing out the candles.

“M’so lucky to have you,” Chan confesses, his eyes soft and searching as you gaze down at him in the dim light.

“We’re lucky to have you too, Chan. We wouldn’t have each other without you.”

He blinks slowly, his eyes glassy as your words settle in.

“It’s true,” Hyunjin agrees, “You’ve brought so much love into our lives. You’re amazing, Chan.”

You caress Chan’s cheek as he smiles bashfully.

“M’not… not that amazing…”

“Yes you are,” Hyunjin argues, “And we’re going to show you. Come here.”

Chan laughs as he extends his arms to Hyunjin, who guides him out of the water with a fond smile. He quickly hands him a fluffy towel and uses another to pat him dry. You ease up from your perch, setting Chan’s forgotten wine glass next to Hyunjin’s on the sink counter. When you turn back, Hyunjin and Chan are kissing. Chan’s arms are looped around his back, pulling him closer as their lips melt together. Hyunjin drops the towel he was holding then slides his hands up Chan’s front, before they settle on his broad shoulders. Slowly, they part and Hyunjin sighs. He takes Chan’s face in his hands and confirms his gaze before gently speaking.

“Are you okay? Still good?”

“Mhm, m’good.”

“We can stop whenever you need to, honey. Okay? We can just cuddle or take a break if you get tired.”

Chan nods.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know.”

Hyunjin grins.

“Let’s go, Lix is waiting for us.”

Chan catches your attention before leaving. You meet him for a sweet kiss then pat his bottom gently to usher him into the hall.

Felix is waiting in the bedroom when the three of you enter, playing on his phone. He is lounging in the middle of the bed, wearing the silk button-up that matches Hyunjin’s pants and a pair of boxers. The shirt is big, just barely covers his firm thighs and gives the illusion of nothing underneath when Felix shifts to sit up. He sets his phone aside and smirks when Chan pauses to take him in. You hear his sharp inhale and watch his eyes drink in every sliver of Felix’s skin not covered in the black fabric. Felix has left the top buttons undone to tease you all with a peek at his chest.

You giggle and push Chan toward the bed. He stumbles forward with a grunt, and lets you spin him around before he falls on the edge of the bed. He blinks up at you when you cup his cheeks, then shudders under your gaze. Felix moves in behind him, wraps his arms around his middle and pulls his back to his chest. Felix winks at you then teasingly pecks Chan’s ear.

“Mhm, how are you feeling?”

Chan swallows and responds gruffly.

“G-Good…”

Felix chuckles and lets his hands roam over Chan’s chest. Chan sighs and leans back, fully relaxing into Felix’s embrace. His head falls back into the crook of his arm as Felix cradles him gently and gazes down at him.

“You took so long to come in here. Did ya miss me?”

Chan’s eyes twinkle. In moments like this he would usually grin and respond with a flirty quip that would disarm Felix’s cockiness. This time his lip trembles before he whispers his response.

“Yes…”

Felix smiles and offers a sympathetic hum before kissing Chan’s forehead. Chan’s eyebrows pinch gently and he melts at the gesture. His fingers curl in the silk shirt and he lets his eyes flutter shut, pouting gently as Felix presses more lingering kisses over his face. You watch Hyunjin observe them before retrieving a gift box from beside the bed. You ease onto the bed beside them and rest your hand on Chan’s warm chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. Chan whimpers when Felix finally kisses him deeply on his lips.

“Missed you too,” Felix murmurs, “My sweetheart.”

Chan takes a shuddery breath when Hyunjin straddles his lap. Felix leans back and lets Chan slump against him. Chan groans gently as Hyunjin leans forward and pecks his lips sweetly. Chan’s hazy eyes glance over the box when Hyunjin breaks away. You can see the protest forming in his mind before Hyunjin gently places his finger over his lips.

“My lovely boy,” Hyunjin purrs.

Chan moans softly and squeezes his eyes shut. He shivers and nods, encouraging Hyunjin to continue. Hyunjin smirks as Chan squirms beneath him in anticipation, and that delicious warmth creeps across his skin. Chan whines when you cup his chin and tease your thumb across his plush bottom lip.

“You’re such a good boy,” You whisper.

Hyunjin hums and grazes his hand against Chan’s cheek as he admires his embarrassed expression.

“Don’t you agree? Chan?”

Chan laughs softly as Felix’s hands begin roaming over his sides.

“Y-Yeah…”

Hyunjin slides his hand down to cup the back of Chan’s neck. His eyes finally flutter open, and his breath catches as your fingers slip through his hair.

“You’re going to be good for us?” Hyunjin continues.

Chan whimpers and jolts at the stimulation of all of your hands on him. He nods, exhaling a shaky breath as Hyunjin begins opening the box. Felix lovingly rubs his hand over Chan’s abs as Hyunjin pulls a black leather choker from the box. Chan shakily inhales as your hand caresses his flushed neck.

“Do you like it?” You ask softly.

Hyunjin takes his time unfastening the loop as Chan collects himself.

“I do…”

“It’s special, just for you,” Hyunjin murmurs.

Chan nods as Hyunjin gently fastens the choker around his neck. The leather connects at the front of the collar with a loose chain and a heart-shaped loop. Hyunjin hooks his finger into that loop with a soft smirk as Chan’s face burns from the attention.

“Suits you,” Felix whispers as he gently scratches his nails over Chan’s bare chest.

Chan makes a soft sound and looks up with loving eyes. Hyunjin pulls slowly, guiding Chan to straighten up as the collar tightens around his neck. Hyunjin teases him with a peck on the forehead and secures the chain between his fingers.

“You’re such a pretty boy,” Hyunjin praises, making Chan’s hips jump beneath him, “So pretty.”

“Yeah,” Chan breathes.

Hyunjin chuckles and keeps Chan in place as he tilts his head up to meet his gaze.

“Remember what I said?”

Chan blinks as he tries to form a response, a little dazed at the pressure around his neck.

“Mhn…”

“I promised to show you how amazing you are. Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“So polite,” Hyunjin coos as he pecks his lips, “So good for mommy.”

Chan hesitates as he registers Hyunjin’s words. You and Felix smirk and move off the bed as Hyunjin grabs Chan’s shoulders and kisses him, shoving him onto the mattress in the process. Chan moans and grabs Hyunjin’s hips as they roll against his. He returns the kiss eagerly and lets out a muffled groan as Hyunjin tugs on the chain. Chan tenses for a few seconds then relaxes, writhing slowly and desperately moaning underneath Hyunjin. Hyunjin pulls back with a sigh as Chan pants heavily. Hyunjin attempts to move in again but pauses when Chan puts his hand on his chest. Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he swallows thickly.

“Are you okay? Was that too much?”

Chan laughs breathlessly.

“N-No- yeah, but- j-just need a second…”

Hyunjin hesitantly brushes a curl out of Chan’s face, visibly worried when Chan grasps his wrist. Chan ducks his flushed face and huffs softly. Hyunjin watches patiently as Chan wipes his free hand over his face, then his face dawns with realization.

“Oh…”

Chan mumbles something, causing you and Felix to gently move in to hear him.

“What was that, Chris?” Felix whispers, voice careful and sweet.

“I… came…”

“Oh,” You echo, grinning at Hyunjin as he suppresses a humble smile.

Chan huffs out a laugh as Felix pats his chest.

“I guess you liked it?”

“I-I wasn’t expecting… him to call himself…”

Hyunjin eases off Chan’s lap and gingerly removes his towel, carefully wiping him clean.

“Mommy?”

Chan shudders and nods. You guide his head to rest on your thigh and run your thumb over the bridge of his nose as he catches his breath. Hyunjin tosses the towel on the bed carelessly and leans back with a sigh, tangling his legs with Chan’s as he looks him over. 

Hyunjin smirks softly and murmurs, “Sorry I’m so sexy.”

“M’sorry…”

Felix frowns and braces his arms on either side of Chan, forcing his gaze.

“Why are you sorry?”

Chan covers his face with his hand, interrupting your soothing touch.

“I don’t know, I’m embarrassed…”

You pull his hand away so Felix can peck his forehead before assuring him.

“Don’t be, baby… You didn’t do anything wrong…”

Hyunjin gently strokes Chan’s leg with a fond smile, watching as Felix pecks kisses down to Chan’s chest and you lovingly trace his jawline. Chan is still flushed from all the attention, and looks up at you with a heavy gaze. You give him a reassuring smile and pet his cheek.

“Why don’t you take a little break?”

“I think that would be best…”

Hyunjin hums in agreement.

“We haven’t been very fair to you, have we? Is it too much attention, baby?”

Chan hums softly, nuzzling his cheek against your lap as Felix sits up.

“He deserves it, though,” Felix assures, smirking as Chan shakes his head, “Don’t worry, Chan. You’re still our good boy.”

Chan laughs shyly.

“Stop…”

You giggle and let him turn to hide his face in your skirt. Felix rubs his back and snuggles closer to him.

“Mhm, but Chris…”

“N-No ‘but Chris’, be good…”

“Daddy doesn’t have to be good.”

“Oh my god…”

“Okay,” You cut in, playfully pushing Felix away, “Don’t overwhelm him. Come here, baby.”

You lead Chan to rest his head in the pillows and tuck him under the blanket, all the while glaring softly at Felix as he smiles smugly and rolls his eyes. You smirk and kiss Chan’s temple as you pat his chest.

“Just relax, baby.”

Chan laughs softly and rubs your arm drowsily.

“I’m very relaxed.”

You turn to face Hyunjin and Felix, noting the shudder that runs through the former when your eyes flick between them. Hyunjin is fidgeting now, anxiously avoiding your gaze. You snap your fingers then beckon Felix closer, which makes him blink in surprise.

“Lix, Hyune and I have something to take care of. Can you cuddle Channie- and be good?”

Hyunjin shudders and watches Felix begrudgingly crawl up beside your boyfriend.

“I’m always good…”

Chan snorts when Felix collapses in his arms and happily nuzzles his neck.

“You’re a little monster,” Chan mumbles, eyelashes fluttering as Felix settles in against him.

“Well, you’re gay.”

Chan wheezes.

“Real mature…”

You pat Felix’s bottom and quip, “Says the one dressed like Winnie the Pooh.”

Chan and Hyunjin cackle as Felix bats you away, then pulls his shirt down to better cover his ass.

“Shut up and put your dick on.”

You giggle and step away from the bed, not without catching the perplexed look on Chan’s face and Hyunjin’s breathless chuckle.

“Oh, so… pegging?” Chan concludes.

Hyunjin flusters and falls forward on the bed, curling into a ball and hiding his face in the blanket.

“Don’t be so casual about it!”

Chan blinks slowly, obviously not expecting Hyunjin’s reaction. He then smirks as Hyunjin rises, cheeks flushed and lips pressed into an anxious frown.

“Are you nervous?”

“N-No…”

“You shouldn’t be, you’re used to taking it-”

“Christopher,” Hyunjin wheezes in warning.

Chan bites his lip to conceal his troublesome smirk. Felix chuckles and snuggles up to Chan, getting comfortable as he watches you retrieve your strap from beside the bed. Chan tucks his arm behind his head and relaxes as his other arm snakes around Felix’s waist. You note Hyunjin quietly gnawing on his lip, and his eyes widen as they meet yours. You raise your eyebrow as you equip your strap, letting your eyes travel shamelessly over Hyunjin’s flushed chest as you lift your skirt to adjust the toy. You smirk as Hyunjin covers his face and falls dramatically to the bed, his arousal very present beneath his pants.

“Baby…”

You hum in response, taking your time fishing lube out of the drawer as Hyunjin flusters.

“You’re so nervous, Hyunjinnie,” Chan coos.

“You’re acting like you’ve never had sex before,” Felix teases.

Hyunjin huffs as he meets their eyes.

“I know I’ve had sex before. I know I’ve bottomed before. But I haven’t done it like this before.”

“Like what?” Felix presses with a mischievous little glint in his eyes.

“Like… with her. It’s different.”

You ease beside Hyunjin on the bed. Slowly, as if sudden movements may startle him away. You lean close with a knowing smirk as he turns to face you with a pout.

“Do you feel like a virgin again, Hyune?”

Hyunjin shudders at your words and makes a mindless sound, something between a moan and a warble of embarrassment. Your lips widen into a grin as you stalk closer, following him as he slowly leans back on his elbows. His eyes flutter as you lean in, close enough that your breath washes over his faltering lips. He gapes for a moment and clears his throat before managing a husky reply.

“I don’t know…”

“I think you do, baby,” You whisper, just loud enough for Felix and Chan to hear as well, “Are you ready for daddy?”

Chan groans and throws his head back. It thunks against the headboard and he splutters curses, disrupting the tension between you and Hyunjin. You both pause to watch him whine, and Felix- while suppressing a laugh- cup Chan’s aching head to his chest. He eventually breaks when Chan dramatically wails and wipes away his tears. Felix kisses his forehead and gently rubs the back of his neck as he cackles.

“Are you okay, babe?” Hyunjin asks with a fond sigh.

Chan whimpers and shakes his head, then mumbles, “Hurts s’much…”

“Do we- should we take a break?” Felix asks.

Hyunjin shrugs and answers, “Chan’s call.”

Chan huffs and melts into Felix’s touch.

“God, my head…”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but yeah, it’s been pretty bad lately,” Felix murmurs.

Chan gasps and shoves him down to the bed, making Felix squeal as Chan jostles him.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing!”

Felix laughs and accepts the barrage of kisses Chan peppers over his face. Hyunjin sighs and throws his hand over his face as he sinks into the bedsheets. You smile patiently and watch him shift his hips.

“I’m embarrassed to still be hard after that joke…”

“Don’t worry,” You assure Hyunjin, “I’m hard too.”

Hyunjin laughs then swats your thigh.

“Yours isn’t real!”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not!”

You straddle his lap, making him lift his hand and blink at you with wide eyes.

“Let’s see what you think after trying it out. You can let me know if it feels real or not.”

Hyunjin lets out a breathy laugh as you brace your hands over his shoulders. His hands grip your hips while his eyes wander down to your chest; they follow the curves of your stomach until they land on the bulge of the toy beneath your skirt. His eyes flick back to yours again and he bites his lip as you tilt your head at him. You both glance up as Felix moans. He is sprawled out on the bed, shirt pulled open just enough so Chan can lap at his exposed nipple. Hyunjin huffs at the sight of Chan’s face buried in Felix’s chest.

“Chaaan,” Felix drawls, “You’re missing- mhmmm- them...”

Chan chuckles and licks along Felix’s sternum.

“I’m keeping an eye on them, don’t worry.”

“You really suck at domming, Lix,” You remark.

“Sh-hah-ut u-up,” Felix barely manages through an airy moan.

Chan meets your gaze as he nips at Felix’s shuddering chest.

“Enjoying the show?” He purrs.

Hyunjin scoffs.

“Stop being a distraction.”

Chan raises his head to stick his tongue out at Hyunjin and you giggle.

“Be good, Channie,” You warn, “It’s your turn after Hyunjin.”

Chan sighs and leans back, letting Felix gently push him off so they can both sit back and watch.

“Try not to concuss yourself this time,” Hyunjin demands.

Chan rolls his eyes and looks at Felix as his finger curls into the ring of his collar. Chan cocks his eyebrow and not so subtly eyes up Felix’s lips.

“Oh, you’re gonna keep me in line now?”

“I’m doing my best,” Felix whines.

“Both of you, behave,” You order.

Chan grumbles and shoves his face into Felix’s chest, who responds with a giggle as he plays with Chan’s collar. You hum softly, drawing Hyunjin’s attention back to you as you drink in the sight of his bulge under your lap. He swallows as you lean down, pressing him against the mattress.

“Still nervous, baby?”

“A little…”

“What’s making you nervous?”

You trace your fingers down his chest, over the lines of his abdomen. You can feel every stutter of his breath in this position. Hyunjin inhales shakily, his eyes lidded as he watches your hand go lower and lower.

“It’s different. New.”

“Scared you won’t like it?”

“N-No, of course not, I just…”

He trails off as your touch pauses at the hem of his pants and you meet his uncertain eyes.

“You can change your mind, I’ll stop.”

Hyunjin swallows and closes his eyes.

“I want this. I know that for sure so… don’t let me convince you otherwise.”

“Look at me, Hyunjin.”

He does. His eyes flutter open and meet your gaze, pupils blown wide as you lean in. You brush away the strands of hair clinging to his clammy skin, then cup his cheek as you lean in for a kiss. He returns it with a quiet moan, lets you press him into the sheets without protest as the kiss deepens. He inhales sharply when your tongue breaches his mouth and lets out a soft grunt as your fingers cup his chin. The kiss becomes messy and uncoordinated as you grind down in his lap, and you slowly part with a satisfied smirk. 

Hyunjin throws his arm over his face and groans. You do little to help him catch his breath as you press your hips down harder. You watch the perspiration collect on his temple and the heat rise in his cheeks as his body writhes beneath yours. He wipes his hand over his face and sobs into it softly as you rut your cocks together.

“Good?”

“Mhh.”

You giggle mischievously as he smiles at you, smitten and flustered.

“I meant it when I asked: do you feel like a virgin again?”

Hyunjin whimpers and shifts, failing to avoid your gaze as you cradle his face.

“Mhm…”

“Don’t go silent on me yet, baby,” You coo, “Answer me. Do you want daddy to fuck you like a virgin?”

Hyunjin releases a slow breath, his eyes rolling with the torturous motion of your hips.

“I want- fuck- yes.”

“Ah, Hyune. You’re so pretty like this.”

You glance up at Chan and Felix as they watch. Chan has Felix pulled into his lap, his nose is nestled in the crook of his shoulder as he observes. Felix fingers are pressed gently between his teeth, easing his anticipation as he watches intently. You return your attention to Hyunjin, carefully reading every reaction he has. You finally bring your hands to the hem of his pants, but not without teasing your touch down his front.

“So pretty. So delicate. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle.”

Hyunjin chokes and nods, giving you an affirming hum as you lower his pants. You gasp softly when you find he has nothing underneath.

“Hyunjin. No wonder these didn’t hide your boner for shit.”

Hyunjin threads his fingers in his hair and keens when you rut your cocks together, now without a buffer. 

“Mhngh…”

You giggle and tug his bottoms off, leaving him bare beneath you. You slide between his legs then draw his thighs over your hips as he gazes at you with heavy eyes. Your eyes lock as you slide your hands over his hips and up to his sides. He grunts softly when you grasp his sides and frot your strap against his arousal. His back arches before he slumps with a huff.

“Like that?”

“Baby…”

“Yes?”

His head lulls to the side as he shudders.

“Mhh, s’good…”

You hum as you pop open the cap of the lube. Hyunjin gasps when you squeeze his thigh and push his legs open in your lap. You pause to take in the sight of his cock, hot and heavy against his abdomen. You take your time, pouring lube into your palm and warming it between your hands as he squirms and huffs beneath you.

“Still feeling good?” You ask gently.

He nods, watching your hands through his eyelashes as his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a relieved sound when you finally bring your hands to his cock. His hips jump ever so slightly as he chases your touch, and you tsk softly.

“So impatient, baby. Don’t worry, daddy’s gonna take care of you. Wouldn’t want to ruin your first time.”

“More… You’re, hah,” Hyunjin moans then murmurs, “You’re mean…”

“I’m not mean,” You purr as your hands glide over his length, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, honey.”

Your hands roam to prop up his hips and tease the rim of his hole. He mumbles a curse and makes an animalistic sound as two of your fingers penetrate him. Your other hand sneaks back to his cock and he catches your wrist.

“Mhh, m’gonna come. Don’t.”

“Already? You’re really acting like a virgin…”

“Fuck you…”

Hyunjin whines as you withdraw your hands. You roll your eyes and hike your skirt up to expose your length as he kicks out in frustration. You lube the toy up carelessly, ignoring his hiss as some drips on his thighs. He yelps when you grab his wrists and push forward, pinning them above his head as you hover your face over his. He makes a desperate sound as you grind against him, his thighs twitching and his hands flailing at the rough contact.

“Is this what you want, Hyune? Or do you want me to be nice?”

“Mhh, nice,” He mumbles, pouting softly as you pry another moan from his throat.

You release his hands and lean back, sitting on your knees.

“Come here, baby.”

“H-Huh?”

He props himself up and you gesture him closer with two fingers. He hesitates and you huff quietly before cradling his sides and guiding him into your lap. He makes a soft sound of recognition and loops his arms around your shoulders as you help him sit in your lap. He blushes as he becomes more exposed, forced to spread his legs and let you loop your arms around his waist to accommodate the position. Still, he settles in with a soft moan as you gently peck his lips. He leans in eagerly, falling into a gentle rhythm of trading deep kisses until you murmur against his lips.

“Can you be a good boy for me? Hm? Wanna ride daddy?”

He groans and nods. You take the opportunity to return your slicked fingers back to his hole and slowly spread him open. His breath hitches and he silently moans as you prep him. Your lips ghost over his shoulder as his head falls forward to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Nhh…”

“You’re so fucking tight, Hyune…”

He nods, his hips jolting as you work him open.

“Good? Is this how you want it?”

“Hh?”

Hyunjin attempts to look at you, bumps his nose to your chin as you fuck your fingers deeper. You kiss his forehead and smile softly as he shudders.

“How do you want me, baby?”

“Oh,” He gasps, “I-I thought… Imagined we would… Just…”

You chuckle and he dreamily echoes the sound.

“Need to lay down?”

He nods and you gently ease him down on his back, giving him a break as you do so by retracting your hand. His soft pants fill the room as you line up your hips and give him a tender kiss.

“Is this okay?”

He hums and nods.

“I thought we were going to do that… face-down-ass-up thing.”

You snort.

“That’s not very romantic for your first time…”

He laughs.

“Oh right, I’m supposed to be a virgin. I’m having trouble getting into character, I think.”

You sigh wistfully.

“Yeah, you’re an awful virgin. I should’ve known better.”

Hyunjin giggles.

“No, no, I can be a virgin,” He insists playfully, toying with his hair as he continues, “Please be gentle with me?”

“Mhm, I’ll be gentle, sweetheart.”

You both smile into your next kiss, making it more teeth and tongue than a touch between your lips. He cups your cheeks and urges you closer so your chest is pressed against his. His hands absentmindedly trace the lace patterns of your lingerie as you press your cockhead against his entrance. He groans and relaxes with a muttered curse when you push in and bottom out. You tuck your face into his neck, nose at his pulse point as you feel his heart thrum in his chest. You reach down to pull your little silk skirt out of the way and take a moment to enjoy the intimacy. He wraps his arms around your waist and groans as you slowly begin your rhythm.

“Good? Not too much, baby?”

“No,” He murmurs, “S’perfect.”

You kiss his shoulder and caress his hips as you gently rock into him. He sighs and moans, lithe legs twitching each time you bottom out. He lets his head fall back, sweat dripping down his neck as you fuck him into the mattress. He lets out delicious restrained noises as your pace quickens. You draw back just enough to see his face, memorize the sight of him biting his lip and pinching his eyes shut in pleasure. His eyebrows arch and he eventually lets out a shameless moan, giving up on maintaining any composure.

“Fuck. That’s daddy’s boy,” You praise, feeling arousal and pride at the sight of Hyunjin choking out a moan.

“Ha-Hah, uhh, mhnn…”

You watch him with a devilish smile, dissecting every detail of his fucked out expression.

“Can’t talk, lovey?”

“Mh-hh-hard. H-Hard to, hhn, ngh…”

“Is daddy’s dick that good, baby,” You ask with faux sympathy, “Did I fuck my little boy stupid?”

“Yeah-hah…”

“Mhm, look at me.”

He huffs and manages to do as you ask. He moans as you press your forehead to his, then mumbles praise as you tilt your head and lock your lips together. The kiss is deceptively soft compared to the pace you’ve set with your hips, but you credit that to Hyunjin’s inability to focus at the moment. His mouth falls open and you move to pecking his chin and neck. His hips have not stopped moving, desperate to get you deeper. Your fingers clench in his flesh and his thighs tighten around your hips as he tries to meet you for each thrust. Any semblance of cohesive speech has been fucked away, now replaced with breathless pants and gasps.

After some time Hyunjin gives you a sort of warning, although the sound barely varies from his usual sounds of pleasure. You cup his face with one hand, watch it contort as his nails drag down your back, and murmur encouragement as your other hand slides down to his length. He finishes over your fist, making a mess between your fronts as he curses and whines. You giggle and kiss him sweetly as you help him through the lingering waves of pleasure, then you slowly pull out. You brace your hands on the bed and lean over him, staring intently as he heaves and melts into the sheets.

“My bad…”

“Hm?”

His hand clumsily wipes your stomach, smearing his cum over the silky fabric. You giggle, noticing that his bare chest is just as messy.

“It’s okay, baby. You did so well.”

Hyunjin hums.

“I love you so much…”

You share another kiss and you murmur back, “I love you too, Hyune…”

You trace your thumb lazily over Hyunjin’s hip as he lays back with a soft sigh. Your attention is drawn to Felix, sprawled in Chan’s lap and catching his own breath. Chan’s hand slips out of Felix’s boxers, and you snort.

“Felix, did you just-”

“Chan did it,” Felix sulks with a pout, “It’s his fault…”

“You always blame everything on me,” Chan coos, not-so-subtly wiping his hand on Felix’s shirt, “Take some responsibility, Lix…”

Felix whimpers and looks at you with pleading eyes. Hyunjin sighs and shakes his head with teasing disappointment.

“Yongbokkie…”

Chan kisses Felix’s neck as the younger whines and squirms.

“I tried…”

“Somehow, I don’t believe that,” You tease.

Hyunjin’s head lolls as he looks at your boyfriends. Felix shudders and turns, only managing to raise his hands before Chan catches his wrists and pushes him to the mattress. Felix huffs and makes a half-assed attempt at wrenching his wrists free before letting Chan hover over him.

“He’s picking on me…”

“Chan, be good,” You say sternly before letting your voice carry on with a honeyed tone, “Are you ready for your turn?”

Chan nods and shares a lingering kiss with Felix before leaving him to move next to you. You smile at Hyunjin, who drowsily blinks at the two of you as Chan fetches the used towel and swipes it over his chest. Hyunjin hums and his eyes fall shut as he gives you a blissed out smile. You giggle and reach up with pet his cheek.

“You’re so pretty, Hyune. So beautiful like this.”

Hyunjin mumbles a thank-you, either at your compliment or to Chan for trying to clean him. You notice Felix, curled up away from you at the head of the bed and call out to him softly.

“Lix, baby, everything okay?”

He gives you a thumbs up and huffs.

“Chan’s a fucking dick.”

Chan looks offended and throws his hands up with an eye roll.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to come! Silly me for doing you a favor.”

You laugh as Felix, without raising his head, points accusingly in Chan’s direction.

“Manipulator, mansplainer, manwhore. That’s all you are.”

“M’not a mansplainer…”

Hyunjin asks, “You’re not denying the other two?”

You redirect the conversation by giving Felix gentle instructions.

“Lix, can you help Hyune move?”

Felix whines and rolls over, looking exhausted.

“Babe, I’m fighting for my life right now.”

Chan shakes his head and moves instead, chiding Felix as he scoops his arms under Hyunjin’s limp body:

“You’re so dramatic, Felix.”

Felix sticks his tongue out and you smirk, shaking your head fondly.

“Okay, sweetheart. Can you at least throw me a pillow?”

Felix does manage to do this before he slowly rolls himself into a more comfortable position. Chan carries Hyunjin up beside him and helps him settle as you rise from the bed. You stand in the middle of the room, hands on your hips as you look around. You find what you are looking for, a chair, and are briefly distracted as you slide it over beside the bed. Felix whining draws your attention back to them, and you sigh softly as you take in the sight: Chan leaning over Hyunjin and kissing Felix as his hand roams over his lap. Felix squirms and whimpers as Chan cups him through his boxers, while Hyunjin observes them with an amused look. 

You sigh and pick up the pillow, then use it to smack Chan’s bare bottom. Hyunjin laughs as Chan yelps into the kiss with Felix, then turns to glare at you over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Stop torturing Felix and get over here.”

“Ooh,” Hyunjin teases.

Chan leaves Felix’s side and the younger hides his heated face in Hyunjin’s shoulder with a huff.

“I wasn’t torturing him,” Chan defends as he smirks at you, “You’re just jealous. You need my attention that badly, right, babygirl?”

You toss the pillow on the chair then cross your arms with a smirk as Chan comes to sit in front of you on the bed. His face and chest are still flushed, and the kisses left on his neck and lips have made his skin bloom a deep shade of red. You admire the marks as you lean closer to study his cocky smirk.

“Not jealous.”

Chan’s eyelashes flutter and he reaches out to pull you closer. His hands caress and squeeze your sides as you follow his lead and rest your hands on his shoulders. He draws you between his thighs as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, but you keep your feet firmly planted on the floor.

“No? We’ve barely touched you tonight, sweetheart. You must be getting restless. Let me take care of you.”

You shudder at the offer but bite your lip and shake your head.

“I told you to be good with Felix, and you didn’t listen. Now you’re trying to entice me? You’re not being a very good boy, Channie…”

His eyes flick down, drinking in the way your lingerie cups your breasts as you begin to crawl into his lap. One of his hands slides down to feel your backside and he meanly squeezes the back of your thigh.

“I could take care of you, baby…”

At the same time Chan attempts to guide your thighs around his sides you shove him to the bed. Your nimble fingers catch the heart-shaped loop of his collar and pull it towards you as your palm splays against his chest. Chan groans, his eyes shutting as he pushes against your hand on his chest. He peeks up at you with a smirk, fighting against the force of your hand with ease. He opens his mouth for some snarky quip, clearly intent on turning things around. When he goes to speak you rise up and drive your knee into his chest, knocking the air out of him and successfully pinning him to the bed.

Hyunjin gasps as the bed rocks and you pull the collar tight to restrict Chan’s breathing, more intense than the light play your lovers were experimenting with earlier. Chan’s eyes widen and he wheezes softly, and you notice Felix rising in your periphery. As Chan’s back arches you fall back, straddling his lap and loosening his collar. He takes a deep breath and relaxes with a sigh, blinking rapidly as he stares at the ceiling. You give Felix and Hyunjin a reassuring smile and they relax. Chan is rock hard beneath you, his length grazing the inside of your thigh as you lean forward to find his gaze.

“Channie,” He inhales sharply and looks at you in a daze, “We already promised to take care of you tonight. Be a good boy and listen… to… daddy…”

“Fuck…”

Chan swallows and nods as you slowly pull the collar tight again.

“Now… weren’t you saying something?”

Chan shakes his head and replies in a rough voice, “N-No… No…”

“Are you okay?”

He nods.

“Mhm. Stars.”

“Stars?”

“S-Saw stars for a second…”

You toy with the chain as he shakily pushes himself up.

“Okay… Deep breath, baby.”

He exhales then breathes in, capturing the air that you tore from him moments ago. Your hand rests on his cheek as your other hand slips beneath his collar, gingerly touching his skin.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” He pants, “No, baby, that was so good…”

“I just don’t want to be too rough with you.”

He laughs breathlessly and leans closer. You meet him for a kiss and smile against his lips as he guides your hand back to the chain. You secure it in your grip and cup the back of his neck as he murmurs against your lips:

“Please, keep going. Please, baby.”

You hum and kiss his forehead, then feel his shuddery breath wash over your neck before he plants a wet kiss to your collarbone. One of his hands comes to your waist, trying to keep you close as you lean back to look down at him. You are hovering over his lap now, having ended up there when you moved in to check on him. You kiss the top of his head as his hand creeps lower to the tie securing your skirt.

“Want me to fuck you now, Chan? Are you going to be a good boy?”

He moans and nods as he blearily looks up at you. You pull on the chain just a bit, and his eyes lose focus for a second.

“God, Chan, it didn’t take long to put you back in line… You are a manwhore, aren’t you?”

Your words make him fumble, fail to pull your skirt loose as he groans and nuzzles his face into your chest. He presses lazy open-mouth kisses to your breasts, and after a few attempts manages to pull the ribbon open on both the bra and the skirt. The skirt flutters to the floor as he tugs it away, and the fabric that was covering your breasts falls open. You moan softly and push him to lay down, without any resistance this time.

“Answer me.”

“Babe,” He sobs.

You sigh and feign annoyance as you kiss him again, silencing his complaints as you blindly find the lube in the bedsheets beside you. You sit up and tilt your head at him as he swipes his hand through his hair.

“Roll over. I need to prep you.”

Chan groans but listens, rolling onto his stomach after you ease off his lap. You slip your thigh under his, propping up his hips, and begin to wet your fingers. He whines and you roll your eyes before slipping one of your hands beneath him to grip his cock.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He whines again but nods, rutting into your fist as you begin spreading your fingers between his cheeks. You let him whimper and beg into the sheets, and offer him little acknowledgement as you carefully slip your fingers inside his hole. His fingers curl into fists and he buries his face with a broken groan.

“Talk to me, baby.”

His hips jolt as your fingers nudge a sensitive spot and he chokes on his words. You lean over to check his expression, noting the drool wetting the sheets and the way his eyebrows are pinched in desperation. He blinks away his tears as he nuzzles the bed pitifully and you coo softly.

“Give me a color, baby.”

“Gr-Green… Green, ohgodplease…”

You glance over at Felix and Hyunjin, both focused on Chan’s reactions the same as you. You giggle as you spread your fingers and work him gently with your hand.

“I think it’s been too long since we’ve done this, Channie. You can barely keep it together.”

Chan grunts and wipes his face, already a mess from the pleasure. 

“M’fine…”

You pull your hand away and Chan wheezes, not dissimilar to the sound you drew from him earlier.

“You’re on the verge of tears and I’m not even inside you yet.”

Chan just sobs and lets his front melt into the bed.

“Baby…”

“And to think you were making fun of Hyune… He took it much better than you…”

Hyunjin giggles at your comment. You stand from the bed and lightly slap Chan’s ass, making him jump and moan.

“Get up.”

You drip more lube over your fingers and shaft as Chan shakily pushes himself up. He looks at you over his shoulder, eyes lidded with tears gathered in his lashes. His nose is red and his lips are swollen as he again attempts to wipe his face clean. You move to lean against the chair as you watch his pitiful glare.

“Chan, if you can’t get up I’m not fucking you. Stand on your fucking feet and stop being a brat.”

He sniffles and nods as he slides himself to the edge of the bed. You extend your hand to him, giving him some support as he stands on his quivering legs. His cock is standing flush against his abdomen and beginning to weep, despite his orgasm from earlier. He bows his head as he stumbles into your arms and you accept him sweetly, taking your time to wipe away the tears that begin to pour down his cheeks and trickle from under his nose.

“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt your feelings?”

Your voice is soft, holding genuine care as you mildly taunt his emotional outburst. You tilt up his chin, forcing him to face you as your thumb continues swiping away his tears. He chokes out a sob and shakes his head.

“Ngh- n-need you- love you,” He mumbles, “M’sorry I’m such a me-ess…”

You shush him gently and guide him closer for a kiss, ignoring the salty taste on your tongue and the dampness that transfers to your face. You hold his cheeks as you trade kisses, give him breaks to sob against your lips before your tongue delves back in to explore his trembling mouth. After one particularly long kiss you pull him into a hug, letting him hide his face in the crook of your neck. His arms close tighter around you immediately, grasping onto you like a lifeline as you sway and rub his back.

“I love you so much, Chan,” He hiccups as you murmur to him sweetly, “So, so much… You work so hard and I’m so proud of you… You deserve everything, my sweet boy… I want to give you everything…”

Chan cries as he pulls back to face you.

“I-I just wa-ant you… I just want…”

You nod your head and watch him patiently as you tuck stray hairs out of his face. He fails to get his words out but you give him an understanding smile.

“I know, baby. It all feels like a lot now, doesn’t it?”

Felix catches your attention by waving a tissue within your reach until you take it. You gingerly dab Chan’s face dry and his hands move up to wipe your face clean. His lower lip trembles as he stares at you, hanging off your next words.

“You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. I just need you to keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Hm? Can you keep going for daddy, or do you need a break?”

“Keep going,” Chan croaks.

You smile.

“That’s my boy. We’re almost done, you know? I really want to see you let loose, alright? As soon as you come we’ll be all done. Is that what you want?”

Chan’s eyelashes flutter and for a moment he seems to have forgotten the situation he is in. He leans forward so his forehead touches yours and hums.

“I wanna come…”

“You will, baby,” You kiss him chastely and pet his cheeks, “Look at me. One last question: do you want me to be nice or do you want me to be mean?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours and takes a long time deciding, worrying you that he missed the question in his daze. Eventually he does choose, and seems certain in his answer.

“Mean, rough, please.”

You nod and kiss him again before reassuring, “I love you. Remember the colors, alright? Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

He nods and replies, “I love you.”

You smile sweetly and gently guide him to turn, pressing your bare chest against his back as you bring him to the chair. You help him brace his hands on the back of it and he takes the hint when you slide your hands to his hips and push him to sit on the cushion. He shivers at your hot breath on the nape of his neck and groans weakly as you help him spread his legs over the sides of the chair. His hips roll slightly, chasing the friction of his cock brushing against the soft pillow. You reach around and slap his abdomen, making him squeal and tighten his thighs around the back of the seat.

“If I catch you doing that again it’ll be your dick, understand?”

He rests his forehead in his arms and whimpers.

“Ye-es…”

Your hand slides over his back, feeling his shoulder blades before you trace your finger down his spine. His breath shudders and you see his thighs squeeze tighter in an attempt to stop himself from thrusting. The chair creaks as you rest your knee on the edge of it and slide it under his thighs, guiding him to arch his back and raise his hips. You look at Felix and Hyunjin, both have sobered up from their orgasms and are watching you and Chan carefully. You lean forward to kiss his shoulder and whisper.

“Are you ready, love?”

“Yes, yea-”

As soon as Chan gives you the go ahead, you pull his hips up and sheath your strap inside him with one motion. He grunts and loses his footing for a second, struggling to adjust to the position as you begin thrusting steadily. He whines and closes his fists tight on the back of the chair as he drops his forehead against it. More desperate sounds of pleasure spill from his lips as you push to the hilt with each thrust.

Hyunjin smirks softly and Felix chuckles before rising from the bed. If Chan notices them begin to move around the room, he is too fucked out to acknowledge it. He just groans and leans over the back of the chair as he lets you set the pace. You grip his thighs tight and use the leverage of your knee on the chair to support your thrusts. His legs wobble, but eventually you feel your pace and his stance are secure enough for you to slide one of your hands up to his cock. He gasps and melts at the feeling, letting his cheek smush into the crook of his arm as his body sags beneath you. You think if your weight was not on the edge of the chair right now it would have tipped already with how limp Chan has become.

You are vaguely aware of your boyfriends, cleaning up the bed and each other, but you are more focused on Chan. His little breathy moans, his cock throbbing in your grasp, and the way his toes are curling against the floor. On one punctuated thrust one of his legs gives out and Chan cries out softly.

“Y-ellow-”

You forget your own rules for a moment and stop completely, making Chan whine and shake his head. You huff softly and pet his side as you lean in to kiss his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, baby? What do you need?”

“Can’t… Can’t stand like this any longer…”

“Okay, lovey,” You purr, “Turn around for me.”

Chan sighs and shakily does so. He leans back in the chair, his head falling back as he attempts to catch his breath. You meet Hyunjn’s gaze as he comes to stand behind Chan with a smile.

“You look so good, Channie.”

Chan laughs breathlessly and groans.

“Hyune,” You ask softly, “Keep the chair steady, please?”

Hyunjin tilts his head and rests his hand on the back of the chair behind Chan’s shoulders.

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

You pull Chan up by his hips and resume your relentless pace, making him cry out in pleasure and grasp at the chair haphazardly. Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he reaffirms his grip to keep it steady. Chan whines and knocks his head back.

“Mhngh… Fuck…”

Hyunjin chuckles and sweetly kisses his forehead.

“You’re doing so well…”

Chan nods, his face contorting in pleasure as he gets closer to his release. It feels like only seconds have passed when Chan’s back arches and he lets out a desperate groan, tears prickling in his vision from the intensity of his orgasm ripping through him. He pants as his release paints his front, and he gazes at you with a wrecked expression. Your pace slows until you pull out, then you lean in to kiss him gently. He moans and weakly returns it between soft gasps for air. Hyunjin gently rubs Chan’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head.

“There you go…”

Chan’s hands shake as he reaches for you, and he pulls you in again. You laugh softly as he tucks his face into your chest and pulls your arms around his shoulders, before securing his arms around your middle. You oblige even though the position is awkward and smile softly at him.

“Tired, baby?”

He whines and nods, gently nuzzling your chest as you pat his head. Hyunjin steps away as you begin to straighten up and slowly guide Chan to stand. His legs are shaky, but you both make it to the bed. Chan collapses with a sigh, chest heaving as he attempts to recollect himself. You sit beside him, take your time removing his collar, then jump slightly when Felix comes to stand behind you. His hands quickly find the clips fastening your lingerie set and undo them swiftly. You make a little relieved noise as he strips the fabric, soiled with cum and sweat, off your body. Chan watches with a soft smile as you lay down beside him, prop your elbow on the pillow as you gaze sleepily down at him.

Hyunjin returns and makes a soft noise at the scene before him. He crawls onto the bed beside Chan and holds out a bottle of water.

“Drink.”

Chan groans but Hyunjin insists, holding the open bottle to his lips carefully until he is satisfied with the number of small sips Chan drowsily accepts. He passes the bottle to you so you can have a swig as he begins cleaning Chan’s face. Chan’s eyes flutter as Hyunjin dabs under them with a cool cloth, before laying that to cover his eyes and forehead.

“Mh?” Chan mumbles and reaches up to blindly touch the cooling fabric.

You begin stroking your fingers through his hair as Hyunjin moves down his body. He rests his hand on Chan’s chest and informs gently:

“I’m going to clean you up, baby. So if you feel anything, it’s just me.”

Chan murmurs some sort of affirmation and you giggle gently. You drink more water before holding it to his lips again. Chan grasps weakly at your wrist and half-takes it, tipping it slightly to get a drink then giving up and letting you guide the bottle to and from his lips. As you both begin to come down from the moment you notice Hyunjin has dressed himself in clean shorts. He wipes a wet cloth over Chan’s stomach and legs with gentle focus. You blink up dazedly as Felix leans down behind you.

“How do you feel, baby?” 

He brushes his thumb over your cheek dotingly as you begin to register that his question was aimed at you. You let out a long sigh before you reply.

“Being the top is exhausting.”

Hyunjin cackles and Felix smirks as you sink into the bed beside Chan. Chan chuckles softly and lets out a low hum, relaxing at the feeling of Hyunjin coasting the washcloth over his thighs. Felix kisses your temple and sits beside you.

“Now you know how we feel,” He jokes.

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re a total pillow princess.”

Chan and Hyunjin both laugh at your quip, and when you peek up Felix is glaring down at you with his mouth completely gaped. He then shakes his head and lets the warm cloth he was holding slap unceremoniously on your bare stomach. You giggle mischievously as he begins begrudgingly wiping it over your body. Chan lets out an airy moan and you glance over, noticing that Hyunjin has propped up his legs to clean his behind.

“You okay?” Hyunjin asks.

“Sensitive…” Chan whines.

“I know, babe, but I can’t let you be filthy all night.”

Chan pouts and you lean over to gently peck his lips.

“We’ll only keep turning you into a mess if we’re allowed to clean you up again,” You remind him.

Chan grumbles and twitches slightly as Hyunjin finishes up. Hyunjin slides a clean pair of boxers onto Chan and kisses his stomach as the elastic band snaps against his skin. Chan jumps and groans, reaching down blindly to ruffle Hyunjin’s hair. Hyunjin continues mouthing up his body, giggling softly as Chan sleepily plays with his hair. You smirk at Felix, who is still pouting.

“What?”

“I’m mad at you.”

“Tch,” Hyunjin grins into Chan’s chest and glances at Felix.

“Why, because I speak the truth?”

“I’m not a pillow princess,” Felix whines.

“No,” Chan murmurs, “You’re worse.”

Felix blushes as you and Hyunjin laugh, then he shakes his head.

“And to think: I was going to be nice and go down on you.”

You cock up your eyebrow and lounge with a sleepy grin, watching as Felix straddles your leg.

“Were you?”

“Yes.”

“Aww,” You watch him lean down to brush his lips against your stomach, your breath stuttering as his tongue peeks out to trace over your dewy skin, “Mhm, y-you look like you’re still going to…”

“Mhm, I am,” He mumbles, “But m’not happy about it…”

“Liar,” Hyunjin bites, “You love eating her pussy, you’re getting exactly what you want.”

Felix smirks and sighs into your skin as he slowly kisses lower.

“You make me sound like such a selfish lover…”

You giggle as he presses lingering kisses to the crease of your thigh, then you moan as his tongue flicks gently over your clit. Felix guides your thighs over his shoulders and gently licks and kisses between your folds. You hiss gently and shift your hips, making him look up with wide eyes.

“M’kay?”

You nod and let out a slow breath.

“Hips are sore…”

Felix hums, distracting you with a pleasant vibration against your core as his hands come up to gently massage your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his nose pressed against your mound as his tongue delves deeper. You moan and let yourself relax, eyes falling on Hyunjin and Chan next to you. Hyunjin has taken the cloth from Chan’s face and is gently pressing it to his neck. Your gaze lingers on the hickies and faint marks left from the collar rubbing against his neck. When your eyes flick up to inspect Chan’s puffy face, he is gazing back at you. He lets out a soft sigh as Hyunjin brings some relief to his sensitive skin, and reaches out to take your hand. Your eyes soften as he brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a light kiss to them.

Hyunjin smiles and continues his routine of caring for Chan. He applies a soothing lotion to his irritated skin and pecks gentle kisses over his forehead. Chan’s eyes fall shut, breaking your trance, and you throw your arm over your face as Felix laps diligently at your sex.

“Felix…”

Felix chuckles and raises his head to ask, “Who’s the pillow princess, now?”

“It’s still you,” Chan answers.

You giggle and Felix quietly resumes eating you out. Hyunjin gently raises your arm to meet your gaze and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm, feels really good…”

Hyunjin chuckles.

“I’m glad. I was asking about your hips.”

Chan puffs out a laugh as you moan lowly.

“Mhn, m’just a little sore…”

“You should’ve stretched before we started. You probably strained yourself.”

You gasp and let out a little whine as you feel your climax approaching.

“Don’t, hah, scold me… M’trying to come…”

“Oh, sorry,” Hyunjin replies sarcastically, “I’m just trying to care for my girlfriend’s wellbeing. I won’t do that anymore.”

You whine again.

“Shut up…”

Chan giggles as Hyunjin gently drops your arm. You watch him through hazy eyes as he licks his fingers, then reaches down to rub your clit. Felix lets out a soft noise of surprise as you buck your hips and keen, suddenly finishing from Hyunjin’s touch. He says nothing as the pads of his fingers gently swirl over your nub, and Felix groans softly as he laps up your release. You gasp as Chan leans over to steal a kiss and your boyfriends gradually cease their actions. Hyunjin leans down to kiss you next, gently petting your stomach as you return his affection slowly.

“Thank you…”

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby,” Hyunjin purrs.

Felix scoffs.

“Stop that. I did all the work.”

Hyunjin smirks and winks at you.

“Feeling better?”

“Mhm…”

“Go away,” Felix whines as he lightly shoves Hyunjin to the other side of the bed.

You laugh as Hyunjin flops over Chan, who lets out a sleepy mumble as his only reaction. Felix braces his arms over you with a glare as you grin dazedly up at him.

“You’re all plotting against me.”

You hum and draw him closer for a messy kiss, which he submits to easily.

“Mhh, thank you, Felix…”

Felix smirks and pecks your nose before replying:

“You’re welcome, love.”

Hyunjin cuddles up next to Chan and nuzzles his neck happily as Felix steps away to grab your pajamas. You roll languidly into Chan’s side and sigh into his chest. His arm slides around your waist and he turns his face to nose gently at your hair. You lightly touch his neck, careful as you prod the marks you left on his skin. Chan exhales slowly then tilts his head to the side to give you better access.

“You did so well today, Chan,” You murmur as you pet his neck, “Good job, baby.”

“Mhh, I should be saying that to you… I didn’t even help you out, or do anything useful…”

“Don’t start,” Hyunjin groans.

He rises to glare softly at your boyfriend, who stares blankly in response.

“You don’t have to take care of us all the time, Chan. Let us take care of you too. And don’t feel guilty about it.”

“I feel selfish…”

“Guess what,” Hyunjin exasperates, “You should! You’re allowed to be selfish! We want you to be selfish. Take whatever you want from us, and let us take care of you.”

Chan falters as Felix silently returns to the bed and helps you get dressed in clean panties and one of Hyunjin’s shirts. You share a knowing look as Chan avoids Hyunjin’s gaze. Hyunjin gently tilts his head so he can face him again.

“Look at me… I’m sorry, but I mean it. We love you and you do so much for us. So, please, don’t talk yourself down.”

Chan swallows.

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, because you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you don’t deserve the whole world and more…”

Chan frowns as Hyunjin cups his cheeks, then laughs as Hyunjin begins squeezing his face.

“Just be quiet and let our wife peg you without complaining!”

Felix laughs and you grin, nodding in agreement. Chan whines as Hyunjin continues pinching his cheeks and cutely scolding him. You and Felix settle in, and you hesitate for a moment before speaking up.

“Did you just call me your wife?”

Hyunjin freezes, mid-face squeezing, as he tries to recall his words. He then looks at you, cheeks blazing as he answers.

“And what if I did?”

Your own face heats up and you scoff.

“Isn’t that a little presumptuous? That I’d want to marry you?”

Hyunjin catches the teasing lilt in your voice, meanwhile Chan attempts to remove his hands from his face. The two lightly wrestle their hands as Hyunjin smirks and replies:

“Well, you would obviously choose me. How couldn’t you?”

You gasp and look incredulously at Felix, who rolls his eyes with a grin.

“Yeah, sure- whose arms is she in right now?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Hyunjin quickly defends.

You smile at Chan as Hyunjin finally stops grabbing at him, and he gives you a tired smirk. He then winks, and you giggle as he pulls you closer again. Hyunjin settles on top of him with a small huff and mindlessly traces his fingers over Chan’s bicep. Chan lets out a long sigh and for once in what feels like forever, seems to relax. Felix voices this sentiment softly.

“You look tired, Chan.”

“M’tired,” Chan slurs, “Good tired… Gonna sleep for… a week…”

You giggle and catch his satisfied smile.

“Better make it a month… just to be safe.”

Chan hums and lightly squeezes your waist where his hand lays limply over it. Hyunjin gently massages Chan’s arm and props himself up just enough to meet his gaze again. Chan’s eyes have fallen shut as exhaustion finally takes him, but that does not deter Hyunjin from staring at him with the most doting expression.

“Was it good, baby? Did we help you relax?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you feel good?”

Chan swallows and nods gently, but you sense some hesitation. Felix reaches over and gently pats his chest, right over his heart.

“What’s buggin’ you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm…”

Chan pries his eyes open and he stares at Hyunjin, who is watching him with bated breath.

“I don’t know… how to say it…”

“Just say it,” Hyunjin breathes, “We’ll work it out, baby…”

Chan’s eyelids shut again and he grunts softly, clearly fighting sleep.

“Thank you… I love you all so much…”

“Oh, baby… We love you.”

Hyunjin leans in to kiss Chan gently, then watches him as he continues.

“I really… liked it…”

“Kissing?”

“No,” Chan giggles, “The kink stuff…”

“Oh,” Hyunjin laughs then replies, “Anytime. You give us the word and we’ll be there for you… Whenever you need us…”

Felix stretches and yawns then drowsily pats Chan’s arm.

“We’d be happy to visit this again… Whenever you need your daddy, or your mommy…”

Chan groans softly and smiles bashfully.

“Don’t tease…”

“I’m not teasing you! It was sexy…”

You kiss Chan’s shoulder and tell the others, “Let’s let Channie rest, and we can talk about it more later, okay?”

Felix hums in agreement while Hyunjin sweetly traces Chan’s jawline with his thumb. Chan peeks at him then murmurs:

“I liked the kisses too…”

Hyunjin giggles and asks, “Is that your way of asking for more?”

Chan nods and Hyunjin happily obliges, giving pecks to his lips and cheeks as he dozes off. You feel Felix’s arms tighten gently around you, his body molding closer around yours as he settles in to fall asleep. You sigh happily and turn your head to ask him gently.

“You good?”

“Mh-hm…”

You look at Hyunjin, who is still gazing at Chan. He notices your eyes on him and gives you a comforting smile.

“I’m good, too. Go to sleep, my love.”

Felix gingerly massages your hips, soothing the dull ache in your muscles. You let out a soft hum and quickly fall asleep tucked between your boys.

There is a steady thrum in the air when you wake up again, and for a moment you are disoriented. Waking up in Hyunjin’s room opposed to Chan’s throws you off in your sleep drunk state, and you sit up slowly as if your head is being weighed down by the pillow. You quickly find your bearings, feel Chan’s smooth chest when you reach out in the dark. His breathing stutters and he lets out a light snort from the pressure. Your hand slides across the landscape of his stomach until you feel Hyunjin, his body hot and pinned to Chan from the other side. By this point your eyes have adjusted to the dark, and it only takes a little searching of the bed to figure out Felix is not there with you. You huff, slide off the mattress until your feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and shuffle out of the room.

Once in the hall, you register that the ambient sound was someone playing music in the kitchen. It is quiet, so quiet you cannot make out the words until you wander your way to the source of it. Felix is there, chatting softly with Han who is playing music from his phone. Han’s head perks up and he pauses it, causing Felix to turn to you with his bright smile.

“You’re up. Everything alright, love?”

You run your hands over your face and into your hair, then blink slowly at the two boys.

“Mhm. What time is it?”

Han checks on his phone then softly answers, “It’s a little after four…”

“It’s so early…”

They laugh as you trudge in, and Felix quietly welcomes you into his arms as you walk to him. He runs his hand over your back and cups your head as you butt it into his shoulder, then sweetly kisses your temple.

“You should go back to bed, sweetheart.”

“Why are you up?”

“Just chatting… Han and Bin came home and I just happened to be up…”

“Uh, L-Lee Know’s here too,” Han mumbles.

You peek up at him and notice him looking away from you. Your brow furrows gently but you find no time to form a response, being gently led away by Felix as your exhaustion prevails. You walk together, your feet moving so slowly Felix has to pause to accommodate your speed. On the way back to Hyunjin’s room you pass Minho. You try to smile at him, but you can barely open your eyes. He just chuckles and ruffles your hair as you pass.

“Goodnight.”

“G’night…”

You yawn as Felix murmurs goodnight and helps you navigate the darkness. He helps you back into bed and tucks you in before giving you a sweet kiss.

“Do you need anything?”

You shake your head and smile as he presses another kiss to your forehead.

“Okay. I’ll be right back. I love you.”

“I love you too, Lix…”

You watch Felix stumble out of the room and shut the door most of the way behind him. The hallway light flicks on as you listen to him pad down the hall. You yawn and rub your eyes, then blink blearily at the warm light shining in through the crack in the door. For a moment you imagine a shadow lingering in the frame. It looks like it may be Han checking in- looking for Felix? Then, as quickly as your brain begins to register his unmistakable brown locks and wide puppy eyes, he is gone. You stare at the spot, willing the apparition to reappear and quell your curiosity. The light turns off and shortly after Felix returns.

The bed sinks as he sits beside you and you quietly mumble:

“Han…”

“Hm?”

“Han… m’think he wanted you…”

“No, Han’s gone to bed, sweetheart.”

Felix lays beside you and rests his head on your chest. Your hand rises and lands on his head so you can lazily play with his hair. You let your eyes flutter shut as you accept his answer and fall asleep.

[yeyinde]

LEASH CALLED YOU

PUPPY (RUINER) x F!Reader | 18+ Good dogs get rewards, and Puppy thinks you are the best prize to be found in this hovel. So, he takes you.

WARNINGS: smut | P-in-V, rough sex; D/s undertones; VERY HEAVY DUBCON!!; slight breathplay. female gendered anatomy. implied/referenced human trafficking, sex work. canon typical violence. implied threat of violence. loss of agency. obsessive behaviour. this is basically playing house with a psychopath who decides you're his. and he pretty much killed half the city and the guy who was kinda a god. or a king. or something. so like, what are you gonna do? say no? Pff. WORD COUNT: 7,4k imagine writing like, 7k for Some Guy after seeing one (1) gifset of him.

He finds you in South Rengkok.

Nestled amongst a conglomerate of seedy, black market shops in the red light district, you gaze out at the sea of people from a vaulted window in a seamy bordello. A voyeuristic view into the coquettish bedroom they placed you in—red satin sheets and pink, heart-shaped pillows. All dolled up and pretty. 

The harsh light cuts shadows under your eyes and frames you in a heavy, oversaturated glow. You look like you're bathing in red. In blood.

The sight makes something curdle in his stomach. He isn't sure why. There's not much of a difference between you and the other workers—all locked up tight; enticing passersby to join in on the garish body auction set to take place soon—but where they see the dollar signs in this, dancing and swaying their hips, pressing their palms flat against the window plane and fluttering their lashes, all lovely and coy, at the men who press back, you sit. Motionless. A little doll.

You don't belong here, he thinks. You're something much too soft and fine, like silk in his hands, and much too delicate to be in this part of town that stinks like wet, oxidising metal and saltpetre.

The slip of your black, lacy kimono barely covers your skin. He tracks it. The shadows, the dips. The curves. His eyes fix on the protrusion of your collarbones beneath the moody fabric, pushed to the side, and hanging off your shoulder in what, he guesses, is meant to be enticing. Kittenish.

They dolled you up to skirt this line between sultry vixen and twee innocence. The sight of it does something to his guts. Has them rolling over each other in tandem with each heavy thud of his heart. It's the way you look that catches his attention, sure, but more than that, it's the look in your eyes.

They glow under the neon smear, hazy and drifting far away, turned inward. Lost.

And then you look up. Catch his gaze through the glass. 

There's a moment when everything inside of him dims, quiets. Thoughts, missions. Reason, purpose. It falls under a thick blanket of whisper-soft snow. It's just him—something, nothing—and you. This little cosm of his own making. 

You make a motion, then, as if to entice him inside but you hesitate, staring back at him instead. He knows the LED screen on his mask is doing something funny, voicing the thoughts he can't say, because your lips quirk slightly at the corners—bemusement, maybe; he's never been good at reading people—but then HER is husking out orders in his head, all biting witticism, and acerbic humour. 

Later, Puppy, comes the clandestine whisper—hot oil down his nape—and he catches the warbled curiosity as it trickles through. Good Puppy’s get rewards. But there's work to do. 

Work. Yes, work. 

His helmet flashes. He catches the red flicker on the smeared reflection of the window. Garish red. Kill, kill, kill. 

You see it, and you flinch. 

Good, is the sudden thought. Good. 

Puppy isn't sure about much—not anymore, and maybe not ever—but he knows this: he likes the way your eyes widen. Fear, undoubtedly. Round and doe-eyed as you take in the horrible words scribbled in neon. 

Fright, dread. It looks good on you. 

Pretty, pretty, pretty.

His hands shake. He thinks about how you'd feel under him. How he'd feel inside of you. And—

Purpose, he thinks. Purpose. 

There's an emptiness inside of his heart. A hole left over from the remains of LITTLE BROTHER. The dream, the reason, turned into a ghost. Shrapnel in his chest.

He doesn't blame HER for his absence. For the machinations, the schemes. It all led somewhere in the end, even if that place was here. Alone. Stuck, now, with a gaping wound in his chest. 

But—

Not for long, maybe. 

It'll be an awkward fit—BROTHER was this unknowable, untouchable shadow that lingered in his peripheral vision; a driving force keeping him moving. The space carved inside Puppy for him feels like a cavernous chasm. You're so slight, so small, in comparison to that gaping void, that he wonders if you'll be enough to quench the hunger that brims up from those depths. Rapacious. Wanting. 

It's different, of course. You are real. BROTHER was—

Not. 

He satiated himself on artificial dreams and empty memories. Those spectral, hallucinatory feelings of desperation to save his younger brother carried him to the very end. 

But BROTHER was always chimerical. 

You are something he can touch. Have. Keep.

He sees the flash of uncertainty etched into the painted lines of your face as you look around the cesspit you've fallen into, and he knows that you, too, could be that for him. Purpose. Purpose. Purpose. 

(His, his, HIS.)

The people wandering around, perusing the shops, stop and stare at you. At this little wisp, all shaken and terrified, and in need of saving. Needing him—

His hand clenches around the pipe. 

You're too good for their eyes. For this place. 

He'll kill them all, and come for you. 

The room that houses his new target is in a penthouse on the better side of the city. Vaulted ceilings. Golden chandeliers. Crystalline glass in a mosaic of iridescent pastel. It looks blemishless, clean, in comparison to the hovel that is South Rengkok. It scrapes against the chalky insides of his skull as he slinks forward, and emerges from the shadows.

He makes his way through the levels, one by one, until all that remains behind him is a river of blood and a breadcrumb trail of dead bodies. Boss’ finest. It's all mostly just—

Cleanup. 

A necessary evil, HER calls it, and so, he sees it through. 

When he gets to the top, he hears noises. High-pitched, elongated. A sharp grunt. 

He finds his target sitting down on a sprawling chaise, knees notched apart. A woman sits in his lap, hands pressed against his chest. 

Both of them are naked. Their clothes are in a messy pile by the door. 

Puppy watches for a moment. Enthralled, almost, by the sharp juxtaposition their bodies make, and then—

Confusion. 

She looks just like you. 

His meaty hands are tight around her waist, jerking her down with each sloppy cant of his wide hips. Dwarfing her frame in his bearish paws. She mewls into the room, the reecho of her synthetic moans daggers into his temple. 

The pipe in his hand jerks with the rough spasm of his fingers. 

Puppy doesn't care much for killing. Doesn't care much for anything at all, really, except for HER, BROTHER. The mission. His objectives. 

Cold, they call him. Unfeeling. 

He thinks, suddenly, of Wizard. About something he'd said back when Puppy didn't have a name. 

You're—heh, you're a killing machine! It must feel so good, you know? To kill.

It doesn't. He feels nothing at all. Neither pity, nor guilt. Regret is an abstract concept in his mind; intangible. Unreachable. 

He's—

Ambivalent, HER once supplied. You feel nothing, Puppy, because you are nothing. 

Yes. Yes, he thinks. And yet—

There's a strange heat in his veins. A caustic feeling welling deep inside of his guts at the sight of them coupling. His hands on her body is an affront. An insult.

It makes him angry. Furious. 

He'll kill him, he'll—

(Go, Puppy!)

In the man's hands, she looks soft. Delicate. Breakable. 

Yes, so breakable. So—

She moans, then, and he jerks his chin up, catching her reflection in the marble pillar. 

Ah, he thinks. Ah. 

She isn't you. 

He gets to work. 

The success of his mission has HER offering a bleak congratulations in the back of his head. Job well done. He takes it all in, feeling a distinct thrum in his bones that is usually absent following his massacres. Its place, in the hollow gaps of his ribs, is strange. Foreign. 

Excitement, he finds. How peculiar. 

It offsets the adrenaline rush, the lingering anger coursing through his veins. Killing the Target, his companion who was entirely too similar to you, leaves him feeling satiated and starved at the same time. A paradoxical sensation that shouldn't exist together, but somehow found a way, a home, within the slurry of his chest.

He wants to find you. Has this pulsing need in the back of his head to make sure that the woman he killed wasn't really you. But you are contralateral to his current mission. His objective.

Almost pityingly, the route HER generates takes him right past you: a tantalising tease.

Puppy isn't sure what to call this. Madness, perhaps. Don't be stupid, Puppy, comes the choppy, mechanical whir in the back of his head. You are—human, after all. 

The way it's said by HER has his hackles rising, but he doesn't have enough insight on the topic to pursue the strange cadence any further.

Indulge. You earned it.

Your face flashes before him—different, this time. Gone is the thick gold on the crease of your eyelids, the heavy red on your lips. You're barefaced. Gaunt. Your complexion reminds him of the bruised blue of the sky above. Midnight. Iridescent rainbows in an oil spill.

He wants to touch you. His hands shake. 

A series of numbers flicker at the bottom. The price, he surmises, for you. 

An auction. Right.

Tonight, HER supplies. He feels the clinical amusement in the back of his head. Oh, but Puppy—

To offset the generosity, HER pulls up the amount he carries on him. Cruel. Mocking. It's compared and contrasted. The difference is staggering. He can't afford you. Doesn't even come close to the asking price.

(Couldn't even afford the entrance fee.)

Sorry, Puppy—

The mechanised warble is pushed down before it can start.

That's fine, he reasons, dismissing it all. Dismissing HER.

He has no intention of paying for what's rightfully his, anyway. 

The bordello—boasting some strange mix between classic geisha-sensualism and modern sex appeal (and somehow missing the mark for both)—appears closed for the night.

A fallacy, of course, as everyone is just inside. Squirrelled away with cheap vodka, cigars. Waiting their turn to cash in their victory tokens. 

He looks at your window, shutters closed with a looping scrawl on neon pink that says be back soon~!, and makes his approach. 

There's no plan for this. Not that he's ever really had any to begin with—most of what he does is driven by an endless need to fulfil someone else's objective through the brutal physicality he wields—but he makes an effort to go stealthier than usual. 

He doesn't want to risk triggering a failsafe that will keep him away from you any longer than he needs to be. 

Not that it matters—

These lowlives—some assemblage of Creeps, local gangsters, and general nobodies—are mere nuisances in the face of his ice-cold ire. His rage. Tearing through them is nothing. The fight they put up is flimsy. Tissue paper defences.  He supposes they never really anticipated him showing up to reap his dues at an event that has been advertised for several weeks now (how he missed your face on those gaudy billboards hanging above the taverns in the red light district, he'll never know). A high-class event, they snicker from behind the thin doorways.

Politicians gambling away public funds to buy pretty prizes. Gangsters, pimps, all looking to pocket more flesh for their own abattoirs. 

Killing them is insubstantial to this cleanup mission, he knows, but there's a thrum of vindictiveness that roars through his chest when they squeal, begging for forgiveness that they must know won't come. 

(He's barely merciful on a good day.)

HER is a cheerleader in his ear, egging him on. Go, Puppy! Get your prize, Puppy! and he lets it fuel himself forward until he's covered in viscera and gore—a jaw bone breaks off, tacks on to the lip of his boot; blood drenches the sleeves of his leather jacket, stains his collar—and surrounded by pulpy, broken bodies. Alone. 

It's quiet, now. The only sound is his heavy, ragged breath muffled by the mask covering his head. The harsh thud of his pulse cottons his ears, blotting out everything except the heady rush of blood raging in his veins. 

HER watches with an alien sense of amusement that prickles in the back of his head. Wrongness permeates from their mirth as they take in the carnage spread out amongst the halls. 

It all means nothing to him. A means to an end. 

Nothing to them, either. To HER. This is a game.

The wet end of the pipe drags against the herringbone floor in a metallic squeal done to announce his presence from anyone unlucky enough to survive the brutal apathy of his initial assault. He hears nothing. Just the grind of rusting metal on wood. Porous. Hollow. 

It all ends in a muted bloodbath. A bloodied trail of bodies leads right to your door. 

Untouched, despite the garish horror painting the walls in rotting red. Congealed blood blackened under the thin oxygen in the room. 

There's no movement from within, but he knows you're here. Can feel you through the wood. Catch the rabbiting of your heart. Your gasping breath. 

With the hand not clutching the pipe, he reaches for the handle, turns. Locked. He expected it. You must have propped something up against the knob during the first onslaught of his fury. Smart. 

But it's not enough to keep him out. 

He pries open the door to your room with one hand, shattering the flimsy back of the vanity stool you jimmied beneath the handle. Cute. Resourceful. His heart pounds in his chest. He can't wait to have you. 

Go, Puppy!

He takes a moment to shut the door behind him—no escape—before he slowly swivels his head toward you. Taking you in. 

(Finally.)

You stare at him with that same look on your face as before. Terror, he reasons, and tries to piece it together on the men who looked at him as he cracked skulls open with the blunt end of his pipe, tore jugulars out with his bare hand. Fear, he thinks. They look at him with fear. Loathing. 

But you're missing that one. There's no hatred on your face, no curses spat out even when he stalks forward with the same steady gait as always, the bloody end of his pipe leaving a macabre breadcrumb trail for anyone to follow. 

There's a sea of dead bodies behind him. Businessmen. Lowlives. Commonfolk. The other girls. It didn't matter. 

They were in the way. 

All of them. 

(The man, too, who came to collect you like a prize winner at a seedy casino. His head, in particular, is rendered into nothing but a pulpy mess of grey matter, tissue, blood, and bone.) 

He thinks you might cry, but you don't. You stare. Owlish. Wary. Between the thick, brick wall—your cage—and him, there's nowhere for you to run. He slows at that, coming to a stop several paces away. Watching you back. Assessing. Calculating.

You're nervous. Shaken. He's under no disillusionment that you hadn’t heard the screams just outside of your door. Heard the thuds. The cracking of skulls. The breaking of bones. A bloodbath only several paces away. A massacre. Scary enough to you that it made you try to save yourself, to lock whatever it was that stalked the halls from getting to you. 

How terrified you must have been. 

Puppy doesn't feel much for anyone. Maybe the odd moment of sympathy for the inhabitants of his city, the ones who beg and plead for his help with the things they can't control, can't fight back against. He extends small mercies where he sees fit. 

But for some odd, unfathomable reason, he has the sudden inkling to reach out. Pity. You're so pitiful to him. Poor thing. You poor, poor—

In a moment of pure absurdity, the words: are you good? flash across the curved plain of his mask, and you make a noise somewhere between a yelp and snort. Mangled in the back of your throat. 

“Does it matter?” 

And, oh—

Your voice does something to him. Turns his insides liquid. He's melting, he thinks. Burning up and turning to a heap of molten ore by your feet. 

He tries to reign himself back in, forcing himself to focus. Focus. Puppy ponders your question for a moment before ultimately deciding that it doesn't. 

(Or, rather, it does; but maybe not in the way you'd want it to.)

In the end, he gives you a shrug. Banal. Dismissive. It makes your brows furrow. A valley forms between them. Irritation bleeds through the flat apathy you forged. 

There's a scoff. He thinks you look prettier like this—a feral, hissing cat. He wants you beneath him, clawing at his chest. Spitting curses in his name. 

(Wants to try to tame you. Wants to fail.)

“Of course,” you hiss, hands fisting in the sheer fabric of your kimono. “You're no different from anyone else, are you?” 

Puppy shakes his head in response. He isn't a good man. He's made of spare parts stitched together to create an amalgamation of likeness to some king he barely even knows. A megalomaniac. A madman. 

In all honesty, there probably isn't much that separates him and the men who vied for your affection, paid for your attention. Threw coins toward an auction just for the possibility of taking you home. 

But there is a difference. 

Puppy will have you. This he is certain of. 

There's nowhere for you to go. This city doesn't want you. Doesn't deserve you. He'll take you with him, chained at the wrist if he has to. Shackled. Caged. 

You are so funny, Puppy, HER intones, amused. A puppy with a puppy. 

Yes, he decides. His puppy. All his. 

He found you first. 

Puppy lets the pipe—drenched in blood, bone; in viscera that makes you recoil sharply with a flinch—fall to the floor with a metallic clang. With his hands free, soaked, he lifts them up, offering his palms to you. 

It's not a peace offering, but he's seen what untamed cats can do when cornered. And while you're no match for his unfathomable physicality, he'd rather you didn't hurt yourself trying to maim him. 

Still—

Mine, mine, mine flashes, lightspeed, across his visor. He gives you a moment to let the words, the meaning sink in. 

—you’re his. With that ironclad notion comes the freedom to do whatever he wants. 

Whenever he wants. 

And then he moves. 

The difference in your size is almost hideous. Grotesque. He towers above you—a looming mountain—and knows that it would take at least three of you side by side to even hope to match the width of him. 

His hands, too, dwarf you. 

It curls something noxious inside of his guts. A poison-soaked miasma that subsumes in his bloodstream, pulses in the base of his spine. A hunger. A heat. You're so small in comparison to him. So delicate. He could break you in two, shatter every bone in your body. 

And there's not much you could ever hope to do to stop it. 

He shudders at the thought, and knows he likes it more than he should. 

Later, though. Soon. He wants your hands on his skin. Wants to see you come to terms with the vastitude of him, and watch as the realisation that you are well and truly his sinks in. 

He reaches out, palms upward, and waits. 

It doesn't take long. 

(Well-trained, is the hiss. He ignores it, lest he claw his own skin off.)

You flick a scathing glare in his direction first, caustic and hateful, but you bend to his whims without a word. You touch him hesitantly, running the soft pads of your fingers over the metal of his hand, feeling the bumps. The groves in his circuitry. 

Everyone so far has tried to chisel in his head. Galvanise him down into a mindless toy (HER makes a noise, he ignores it), but you seem to avoid his head. Touching the places on his arms not smeared with blood or gun oil, running down the thick wires in his artificial arm. The veins on his real one. The hair dusting his knuckles. 

Then you spot the blood caked, dried and blackened, under his nails, and you recoil slightly. Pulling back. Dropping to his chest. 

His breath whirs out in a deep tremble when you shiver at the muscles—hard iron, brass—that hums under your palms. It's tentative. Soft, almost. Exploratory as you navigate the newness of his body and this strange situation you've found yourself in. 

There's a fractured look on your face that he can't quite place when you slide the cup of your hand over his beating heart. 

(Surprise, maybe. You must have thought him a machine.)

You stay there for a moment, quiet. Pensive. Gaze inward as you mull something over, something he can't fathom, can't ascertain. 

“You…” your voice comes out on a stilted breath after a brief silence. “You killed them all.”

It's not really a question. He grunts his affirmative, anyway, and reaches out to settle his hands on your hips. You jump when he touches you. Tense and angry in his arms, but you let him pull you in close. Are almost docile when he tucks his chin against your crown, lets his hands slide to the small of your back. 

You make no move to pull away. He lets that notion marinate in the back of his head, bending reality to suit his whims when he decides that you must not want to. He hugs you tighter, nuzzling the top of your head when you shudder. 

He's not sure where you're going with this particular line of thought. Doesn't, entirely, see why it matters much. Everyone is dead except him, you. The only two breathing in this disgusting bordello that reeks of thick, spicy incense and myrrh to hide the scent of sweat, stale cigarettes, and sex. Something plastic. Synthetic. Lubricant, he imagines. Latex. 

Knowing that you spent an insurmountable time in this cesspool has anger spiking inside of him once more, but it's quelled, immediately, when remembers what the other men who lurked in these dilapidated corners look like now. Viscera, tissue, and bones are now all painting the cheap panelled walls in a deep maroon splatter. 

(He'll burn it all down before he leaves tomorrow.)

He keeps you close, shackled. A parody of a lover's embrace. 

Your hand drifts up, a slow crawl to the base of his neck. Puppy lifts his chin. The bright red question mark shading the room in an ethereal neon glow. 

“You killed them,” you repeat, knuckles grazing the over-sensitive skin where his mask melds to flesh. “But you didn't kill me. Why?”

He feels the press against his jugular. A soft ache in his throat. It doesn't hurt, but he knows you want it to. 

Puppy's puppy has fangs. 

Puppy reaches up, snatching your wrist in his mechanical hand. Feels, instantly, the grind of delicate bone under harsh, unyielding metal. 

You don't flinch. 

“Why?” 

Under the harsh edges of your anger, your feigned indifference, he catches sight of the look that drew him to you in the first place. Absolute despondency. A vacancy in the hollow of your eyes. Misery, maybe. 

If he were someone else, he might have felt pity for you. Ripped from the arms of whatever birthed you into existence, thrown into this disgusting hovel, and now—

A pet for a pet. 

Kept. Chained. 

Puppy will keep you forever. He knows this just as sure as he knows his heart pulses in his chest. The sun rises. Falls. He'll take you with him, wherever he goes.

You're his. 

A fine consolation prize you've found for yourself, HER quips, and he's content to ignore it for now. Their amusement is clinical, a kittenish scratch in the back of his head. 

But he does agree. You're a fine prize, aren't you? His little treasure found in a trash heap. 

His, his, his

all his, all his, all his—

(You look at the promises, the answers, flickering across the surface of his visor, and shudder—)

Puppy doesn't say anything when you lead him by the wrist to sit on your bed, simply opting to follow along with your demands for now. It's cute, he finds, the way you try to bully him around even when your hands shake, knees tremble. 

He rests his forearms on his thighs, letting his hands dangle in the space between his spread knees—the picture of ease; the manufactured torpor of predator—and he waits. Watching, rapturously, as you flit in front of him. All soft and pensive as you look him over. Taking stock of the blood on his leather jacket. The stains on his pants. The flat surface of his mask, broken only by the protrusion of his nose. 

Boss was a megalomaniac. A narcissist. Knowing that he's made in his image, his likeness (spare parts; a fractured failsafe), he can only assume you like what you see when you look at these scraps that make him whole. 

Whatever you find, it shades the appraising glance in a hue of calculative decision—suddenly firm, now: wily. 

“Okay,” you say, and bring your hands to the sash holding the sheer kimono in place. “I'll be yours—” his hands twitch; reaching for you already. You dance out of the way from his grasping knuckles with a scoff. “Only if you're mine, too.”

If he had a mouth, he might have grinned. 

You seem content to take the lead after a noncommittal response to your demand of shared ownership (the idea alone of which has him thickening in his slacks), placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself before swinging your thigh over his lap, taking (what he hopes becomes) your rightful seat. 

It places your barely covered centre right against his prominent bulge, sending an electric buzz down the base of his spine. The look when you feel him throb against you is equally as scathing as it is feverish, and nearly comes undone at your glare alone, panting harshly against your collarbones. 

“Down boy,” you murmur silkily before dropping your cunt right over him. 

Whiteout. Static. He sees nothing but blurry slashes of red, red, red—

His hands are bruising on your waist, and he's not sure if he's pulling you closer to him or pushing him away. Maybe both. Tugging, tugging, until he can feel the red-hot heat of you burning through the fabric of his trousers.

You can't kiss him so you pepper sweet, soft kisses against the column of his throat, teeth nipping the seam where metal meets flesh. Marking the column of his pale throat up with the brand of your claim. Your ownership. 

A collar in red, black, yellow, and blue—

He doesn't have a mouth to claim you back, but his hands punch your flesh until it's pressed harshly against bone. Bursting blood vessels under your skin. It puddles there. He runs his fingers against the pool of blood that softens your skin, and understands, then, why the sting in his neck feels so fucking good. 

He feels consumed. In a tailspin. You grind against him, and he sees stars. 

Puppy can't think when you do that, and you seem to know this because you don't stop rolling your hips over his straining cock, pinched tight in his slacks. It's too much. 

He wants you. Wants you. Wants you. 

You pull back, and huff at the projection on his face. 

“You're impatient,” you say, but you're slipping your hand inside the waistband of his pants in spite of your exasperation, fingers dancing over the soft skin of his groin. 

It feels molten when you touch the base of his cock with your knuckle. Just a nudge. Just a press. He thinks he could come undone like this. Just like this. With your hands on him. Soft, dewy skin. 

But he wants you pinned under him, taking him. Has thought about nothing except your knees spread, thighs open. Pussy bare to him. Full of him. Nothing but him. Him, him. It made him ache. Burn. A low grade fever in his guts at the enticing image of you beneath him. Pretty lips open, moaning. Eyes wide, doeish. 

“You’re too—”

You start to say something, but he can't take this anymore. It's too soft. Too gentle. He wants you bent over. Wants to be inside of you already. 

And so, he follows through. 

You make a noise in the back of your throat when he gets his hands on the underside of your knees, and unceremoniously tips you back onto the velveteen sheets. The flimsy silk of your kimono spreads, unveiling the softness of your body. Your bare breasts, nipples pebbling under his stare. 

With it haloed around you in an inky black spill over your arms, leaking from beneath your body, he thinks you look ethereal. Unreal. Otherworldly. 

The slip covering your pussy is barely in the way. He can see dewy lips peeking out from the sliver of black nestled across your slit, wet and red. Red. Red—

“P–Puppy—!” You yelp when he tugs his trousers down with one hand, the other keeping your leg up, pinched tight on the underside of your knee. Spread open. Nearly bare. 

He presses the heel of your foot where his neck meets shoulder, keeping it in place with a soft pat to your calf, before dropping his hand down to join the other in ripping the thin scrap of fabric keeping you from him. He's graced with another yelp, but it isn't in pain or distress, and he ignores it outright. 

Mindless, it seems, in this pursuit to be inside of you as quickly as possible. 

Your panties—if they could even be considered such a thing—are pushed deep into his back pocket. Saved for later. 

And then he turns back to you. Spread open. Waiting and willing under him. The sight of you like this steals his breath from his lungs. Sparks embers in his guts that smoulder, billowing smoke through the hollow of his chest. 

He tastes ash in the back of his throat. Wishes, suddenly, that he could quench it on the slick, hot taste of you—

Gripping himself in one hand, he presses the blunt head of his cock against your slit, glistening from your wetness in the jaundiced glow of the moody light above your head. He's glad he didn't cut the power to this shithole because the way you quiver beneath him as he rubs between your folds is nothing short of mesmerising. 

You're wet. Soaked. All for him, even if you keep hissing out that this is just a bodily reaction to stimulus, don't be so full of yourself, you psychopath—

His hand drops. The flat side of his thumb pressed against your clit. You arch so prettily when he touches you like this, knees shaking, eyes fluttering. He presses harder, makes small circles against your sensitive flesh that have you whimpering. Whining. 

“No more, no more, no more—”

He can feel the molten centre of you flutter around his weeping tip. Silken, inviting. He wants more. Knows that you want it just as bad, too. 

Impatient now, he lifts his fingers from your clit, and wraps it tight around your thigh, gaining leverage before he slowly, agonizingly, begins to presses inside—just the tip, the first inch—but the way you wrap around him (all tight, wet silk) makes his mind grow fuzzy around the edges. Electricity rockets down his spine. 

He thinks he blacks out for a second, short-circuiting at the white-hot pleasure of being inside of you, because when his eyes focus, he's pushed all the way inside, trembling above you. 

You're whining his name with tears dripping down your temples, legs quivering around him, and he wonders if this is that version of heaven, the real one, he'd read about once. 

It's too much. Not enough. He rolls back on his hunches to see the way you swallow him down to the base. Pulled taut, and far too pretty for what he's doing to you. Poor, pitiful thing. He'll ruin you, he's sure. Mess you up so badly, no one else would ever be able to touch you without thinking of him. Only him.

It's a thought that sends a thrill down his spine, and he rolls his hips just to watch you squirm. Builds up a sickeningly sweet momentum as he forces your body to acclimate to his girth, to the unyielding stretch of his cock. You're too tight around him, and he worries that the taut stretch might be too much for you, but it's passing. Temporal. He knows he doesn't really care. You'll take it all. All of him. 

Nothing will tear him away from this pretty cunt of yours. 

It flicks against a long dormant part inside of his hindbrain, and he pants for it. Chasing this feeling, this high. 

The slow crawl within you isn't enough to satiate himself. His belly rumbles. His throat burns. 

Puppy gives you no warning before he snaps his hips into you as hard as he can. 

Your wet cries start the beginning notes of his new ascension, and he pounds into you harder. Faster. He fucks you like he's starved for it. Aching. Desperate. Belatedly, he thinks about your pleasure, about bringing you to the same highs the tight clutch of your pussy is bringing him, but he can't focus. Can't think. It's mindless, this lust. Turns him inside out and makes him greedy. Selfish. 

He wants, wants—

Never, in all of his insignificant life, has he ever wanted something as much as this. As you. Pressed beneath him, mewling out his name as he forces himself inside of you, as deep as he can reach—

(and then deeper still because Puppy wants to crawl inside of you; want to nestle against your heart, tucked under the bracket of your ribs and with the way he fucks into you like this, bed whining in protest with each furious, sloppy snap of his hips, he just might make that dream a reality—)

—and fuck. Fuck. 

Somewhere in the tangled web of his thoughts, all white-noise, static pleasure, he can hear HER utter things in secret under the heavy pants of his ragged breath (things like, you deserve this, Puppy; good boy, Puppy; treat your toy—kindly—Puppy), and it spurns him on. Makes him ache to drive those mechanised whispers out of his head, filling the space they leave behind with the sweet echo of your voice in ear. 

Scream. For. Me flashes across the visor in bloody red, and he sees when it registers in your glossy, wet-eyed stare. Cuts through the haze of sex, the lashings of fear that still curl in the shaded valleys when you look at him, and digs its talons into tissue, bisecting the chemical slurry turning your thoughts to mush. There's a moment of clarity. Brief, ephemeral, because he's pressing in as deep as he can once more, grinding against some spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll, and your head drop. 

My

Name

It flashes again, and finally—

Your pretty mouth drops open, spittle running down the corners as you struggle to keep up with his frantic, feverish pace, but nothing comes out—nothing he wants to hear, at least. Please, you beg, and he feels the plea like a punch to his gut. 

You're so pretty when you beg. 

But that's not what he wants. 

Bad girl

It comes as a warbling flicker. Distorted in his anger. 

You shudder under him, eyes widening when he drops his hands down to your throat, palm swallowing you whole from chin to sternum. For him, it's as gentle as he could be, but you gasp for breath, tears pebbling in the corner of your eyes. Hazy, murky, with fear and pleasure; the warring sensations separated only a hairline fracture, a thin sliver. 

He shifts forward and has you take on more of his weight, stifling more air from your lungs, and making you feel the power flex of his massive body cocooning you entirely. No escape. 

Your hands unfurl from the white-knuckled grip on the sheets, slamming against his shoulders as you try, futilely, to push him away. You're frenzied. Desperate. 

Puppy finds it endlessly charming.

His hand lifts, offering a slight respite that you seize eagerly, greedily, gulping down wet, feverish lungfuls of air. 

“Y–you bastard—”

He likes it when you cuss at him. A feral, hissing cat. He falls over you once more, shadowing you under his bulk, and pistons his hips into the apex of your thighs, feeling the slickness of your cunt drench his groin. 

Angry, spitting thing. And yet—

You're so fucking wet for him. 

You like this. The way he bends you mercilessly to his whims. Folds you in half. 

His hand stays around your throat, feeling each breath and moan that reverberates up his arm. The other drops from your knee, falling to the black, iron headboard that grinds into the wall with each thrust. Centering himself. Gaining more leverage. 

Puppy fucks you like this. Trapped beneath him—a tumulus over you—and unable to do much except take his cock however he decides to give it to you. And give it to you, he does—

(Mercilessly. Pounding you so hard, your breasts jerk, and your eyes flash vividly as you struggle to stay afloat in that equinox of pleasure-pain that rages over you.)

HER says he doesn't have a face, and maybe that's true. It might just be a flat mess of wires sutured to flesh. But

Puppy wants to devour you. Swallow you whole. Wants to taste the sweetness of your cunt on his tongue. Feel your lips on his. He wants to pry apart your chest and suckle from the marrow in your ribs. 

He wants you. 

Wants you. Wants you—

He's not entirely sure if he's human, but he breathes like you. Heaves. Gasps. Can feel the wet, molten clench of your pussy around the thickness of his cock as he spears you open. Pleasure blooms at the base of his spine. Punches through his groin. Bludgeons him. It makes his head feel heavy, fuzzy. Somnolent with the mindless drive ticking in the back that pushes him forward. Makes him want to imbue himself in whatever it was that made you. A pithy god of old. Stardust. 

He wants to remake himself in your image. Spare parts just for you—

How romantic, Puppy. 

“Fuck—!”

Your voice is saccharine in his ear. A velvet gust of smoke curls in the back of his head. 

With his hand around your throat, he feels the words before he hears them. It sends a thrill down his spine—dancing fingers pressing tight to each vertebra as it splits open the ventricles housing his spinal fluid, letting it all leak out into his bloodstream. 

It's ecstasy, maybe. Or the closest thing to it he could ever reach. 

“What are you doing to me?” You slur the words out against his metal cheek, hushed and fractured. Raw. “It feels so—good—oh, Puppy—!”

He shifts his pelvis into the bracket of your thighs. The head of his cock rubbing over that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back, and your cunt squeeze him tight. A pretty box wrapped, velveteen, around him. 

There's friction in the pit of his stomach. Tension in his groin. It pulls taut, feels heavy. 

He's close. So, so close—

You seem to realise this, too, your eyes growing wide once more as he twitches inside of you, pressed deep. Cockhead nudging into your seal. 

“No, no—”

Despite your protests, your body is tightening up, quivering under him. 

He takes it as an invitation.

Puppy's hips stutter to a slow grind as he hits the apex of his pleasure, cock throbbing, spitting his release, deep inside of you. 

Around him, beneath him, you tremble. Shake. He can feel the tremors of your own hastily reached climax when you squeeze his cock tight in a vice, undulating pulses that seem to rocket from the sensitive nerve endings around him all the way to his brainstem. 

It's good. Too good. 

He doesn't have any other ambition right now outside of burying himself inside of you over and over again. 

He wonders how deep his spare parts go for a belated second, how much of himself was forged in Boss’ likeness, but dismisses it immediately. It's unimportant to him. 

“You're awful,” you gasp sweetly in his ear. “Terrible. A terrible man—” And fuck. He wants to ruin you again.

Puppy pulls you close, pawing at you until you're situated in his arms. Manoeuvred around like a little doll. He finds you precious, really. So malleable. So soft. He presses you flat to the lumpy mattress and folds himself over you. Thick thigh strewn over your hip, pinning you down. An arm tucked under your nape, bent at the elbow to curl over your shoulder, fingers brushing your collarbones. Shackled.

This is new. Foreign. He's never felt this before—all soft edges; sickeningly sweet. Unable to help himself, he bears his weight down, arching above you. Staring, openly and unabashedly. Drinking you in. 

He wants to crawl inside of you. Worm his way to the place where you burn. 

You're stiff in his arms. Silent. 

But that's fine. That's okay. He'll melt you eventually. Make you understand that Puppy is yours now, silly. All yours. And you're—

All his. 

Just like you wanted. 

He owns you. And in turn, is owned by you. 

It's fitting, he finds, considering all his miserable existence was spent handing his leash off to whoever grabbed it quick enough. Their hands were rough. Indelicate. He takes your hand in his, knuckles bleached white from the quivering fist you've rolled them into, and pries your fingers loose. Threads his between the gaps before you can swat him away. 

He can feel your pulse like this, pressed palm to palm. A precious little thing. So fleeting. A hummingbird in an ivory cage. 

Poor thing. 

“What—what are you going to do?” You rasp, voice hoarse from the grip he had on your neck. The sound of it—gritty sand, smoke—makes him shiver. He likes it, he finds. Wonders if you'll sound the same if he scraped your throat raw with the tips of his fingers. 

His cock. 

You huff when you feel him twitch against your hipbone—cock tacky from his cum, your wet cunt—but make no move to pull away. 

He purrs. 

Keep you, is projected and you suck in a sharp breath like you'd expected that. Then, he adds a heart. A red one. Mine. 

“I'm not yours. I'm not anyone's—” he doesn't bother correcting you. You'll learn soon enough. “And you don't even know me. Why do you even want this? I could be a liability. I could kill you in your sleep—”

Could, not should, he notes, fondly. 

Hahahaha passes by and you let out an aggrieved snarl at the sight. “You're so fucking horrible—!”

He nods in response, and presses the jut of his nose to your sweat-slicked hairline. Breathes you in. Amber. Humus. Loam. You smell like ozone. The streets after a heavy rainstorm. 

You smell good. Like home. 

“Do you even like me? Or am I just something to fuck?” is whispered so softly into the air that he might have missed it if he hadn't been trying to suffuse atoms. 

He hears the fragility in your voice. The paper-thin foundation holding you aloft. 

In all honesty, he doesn't know what he feels for you. It's all—

Abstract, perhaps. Grainy smears of feelings, sensation, all roiled around inside of him. Intangible. 

He just knows he wants you. Has wanted you since he first saw you, sitting all pretty in a glass cage. Untouchable to anyone except the highest bidder in your upcoming auction. 

(Spare parts. A pretty bird in a cage.)

What a pair you make. 

He likes that, though. The way you fill this barren hole in his chest. Pilliating the listlessness that rolls like a marble inside of him. In turn, he wants to do the same. To stuff you full of him. So full, there's room for nothing else. No one else. 

There are flickers of life buried deep within you that he longs to dredge up. He thinks you'd be beautiful with your hands wrapped around his pipe (disgusting, Puppy), and that, for him, is enough. 

He's sure one day you'll feel the same. 

Until then—

His fingers tighten around yours and you wince at the pressure before gasping when the metal gears in his joints begin locking in place. Stiffening. Shackled to him, now, until he decides to release you. 

Goodnight flashes. He sees the words reflected in the glossy canyons of your eyes. Smeared red bleeding into the dawning realisation that you are his. 

And no one else's. 

There's no escape. 

[rinhaler]

𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

Baby I Know How To Use a Gun (gun.. gun)

18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, cheating, toxic!relationship (they are both toxic af), gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, co-dependency, gun inaccuracies (probably), gunplay ♡ physical abuse?, pussy drunk!megumi, choking, dacryphilia, daddy!kink, bruising ♡, spanking, masochism, minor dildo use, fingering,dumbifcation, pussy spanks, scratching, breeding kink, calls your pussy ‘she’.

words: 8k

Requests:

little pervy brother megumi!

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

You Deserve Roses and You Know This

18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, dacryphilia, pregnancy, abortion ideation, miscarriage, depression, adultery, breeding, creampie ♡, smoking mention.

words: 4.1k

By the Dim Lamplight

18+, fem!reader, noncon/rape mention, noncon filming mention, hybrid!reader, abuse, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome ♡, whipping mention, Fushiguro's have a Southern twang, branding, fingering, age gap (megumi + reader 20s, toji 40s), lactation!kink, tit sucking ♡ (duh), sir!kink, spanking ♡ (incl. pussy spanks), manipulation, pet names (sweetheart, darlin', honey), cheating, reader has pubes!, tummy bulge ♡, creampie.

words: 5k

Trigger Finger Ready and Got Nowhere To Run To

18+, dub/noncon, mentions of violence/murder, toxic!relationship, free use ♡, manipulation, jealousy, fem!Uraume, degradation ♡, praise, no prep, oral fixation ♡, size!kink, daddy!kink, choking (hands + belt), slight breathplay, exhibitionism, spanking, dacryphilia ♡, dumbification, creampie(s), calls your pussy “she/her”, slight cucking, oral (m+f receiving), restraints, fingering ♡, pussy spanks, squirting ♡, multiple orgasms, double penetration!(one hole), brief anal mentioning, breeding ♡, belly bulge ♡, pet names (princess, brat, good girl, sweetheart).

words: 15.2k

In The World My Demons Cultivate

18+, fem!reader, no smut, dead character, mental heatlh struggles, suicide ideation, grief/loss, drug abuse, pet names.

words: 3k

Two Lovers Entwined

18+, fem!reader, british slang (duh!), brief slut-shaming, size kink ♡, slight exhibitionism, dry humping, spanking ♡, cunnilingus, daddy!kink, vaginal sex, squirting, belly bulge ♡, creampie ♡, pet names (baby, princess, darlin', sweetheart etc.)

words 9.5k

Requests:

Toji & his bimbo sugar baby

Toji noncon w/ virgin step daughter

One night stand

Yakuza boss!Toji

Step dad!Toji is lonely and needs you

Toji + petplay

Yakuza!Toji + brat taming

Thirsts:

bloody knuckle fingering

Yakuza!Toji & Yakuza!Shiu spoil you

Step daddy!Toji making you watch porn

Toji w/ morning wood

𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Am I (25F) The Asshole For Fucking My Boyfriends Older Brother (28M)

18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking.

Words: 10.6k

DEATH IS NO MORE !

18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby).

Words: 10k

Requests:

plug!sukuna after fingering you

plug!sukuna and yuuji double team

noncon w/ step bro!sukuna

plug!sukuna w/ a shy girl at a party

plug!sukuna offers you a treat

sukuna slips his hand/tongue under your skirt

play fighting w/ plug!sukuna

plug!sukuna wants to hear you

jealous uncle!sukuna

cucking!Ino

Thirsts:

noncon w/ new student reader

sukuna's happy trail

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

Requests:

mutual masturbation w/ uncle nanamin

uncle nanamin & step daddy gojo

uncle nanamin gives you a vibrator

step daddy!nanami is jealous

date night w/ uncle nanamin

Thirsts:

uncle nanamin

jealous uncle!nanamin

step dad!gojo and uncle nanamin catch u camming!

𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢

Requests:

yandere step bro!yuuji

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨

Requests:

step bro!gojo noncon

step dad!gojo ft. step itadori bros

getting off to you fucking his bestie!

jealous daddy!gojo read your texts!

ex!babysitter gojo & ex!babysitter suguru dp you!

giving step!bro gojo a pussy job

Thirsts:

step dad!gojo and uncle nanamin catch u camming!

step dad!gojo and uncle!suguru

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨

Requests:

pervy roomamate!choso

𝐈𝐧𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐦𝐚

Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?

18+, fem!reader, dubcon (he's high), toxic relationship, exes to lovers?, rich boy!ino, dacryphilia, pussy eating ♡, light nipple play, vaginal sex, love making ♡, drool ♡, praise, slight orgasm denial, scratching, creampie ♡, manipulation, calls your pussy she/her, pet names (princess, baby/babe, gorgeous etc.)

words: 4.6k

Thirsts:

cum eating

cucking!Ino

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Good Fit**

Brother's best friend trope! I'm really, really happy with this one! I was inspired by the picture above. I was also stoned when I started this so it’s very horny 🫠

Warnings: Cheating, female masturbation, age gap (7yrs), dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, choking/breathplay, slight degradation, size kink.

WC: 8.3K

Unfortunately for Harry it wasn’t uncommon that you show up at his place after you’ve had a fight with your boyfriend. So when he heard the knocks on the door he knew it was you from the call you had made earlier from a random number and you asked him if he could send you an uber since your phone was dead. He hurried over and let you in. And as he took your appearance in you didn’t look sad you just looked angry.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked and you exhaled sharply and nodded.

“I am now. Just…needed to get out of there.” You said and he nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“After? I just need to think for a bit. Do you mind if I shower and borrow something to sleep in?”

“Not at all, come on.” He said and guided you through his apartment, “F’you need anything else just shout for me.”

“Yeah, thank you Har.”

“Course.” He hummed before he shut the door to the bathroom and headed off to the kitchen to make some tea.

Harry knew your family because of your older brother. When he did an exchange program during his undergrad years Harry’s family was his host family and they quickly became friends. Then, Harry came to the states for grad school and to work so he was roommates with your brother for about 4 years, which is when you and your family met him. And well that leads to the present! At the end of your 3rd year of university you got offered a spot in a very lucrative and once-in-a-lifetime international cohort and internship opportunity for your final year, and that’s why you moved to London last July. The only reason your parents even allowed you to do this was because they knew someone in London now, that was Harry. He had just turned 30, like your brother, and well your parents knew that you guys got along and that he was a nice guy so they felt comfortable letting you go alone knowing that he was nearby. 

Harry was a really cool guy, but despite that you intended to steer as far away from his as possible because you didn’t need a babysitter. You were 23, soon to be 24! But when the homesickness started to hit you sought him out and he was always so welcoming and comforting and sweet. He knew this shop where they’d sell American treats, he’d take you there sometimes even though it was quite far away, since he had a car. And when you’d be sick or feeling under the weather he’d make you food and bring you medicine…he looked after you and soon you started to spend more time with him. He was actually the reason why you even started dating your boyfriend, Charlie. Charlie was 31, handsome, mature, had a great job…he was really romantic and detail oriented, he just did anything he could to make you happy and for a while things were really, really good. But over the last few months he has been so awful, picking fights for no reason, starting to get aggressive out of no where, flaking on you or just going unheard of for days at a time. The party tonight was a colleague’s birthday party and he had invited you to make up for a fight you’d had earlier in the week over some naked pictures he had recently saved of some girl on his phone. You had a feeling that he was cheating or that something big was off for a while so tonight, when you caught a glimpse of him slipping into a room with that girl from the pictures on his phone you just decided to leave.

You had just finished explaining this to Harry as you sat across from him at his kitchen island in his big, baggy t-shirt and a pair of striped briefs. You hadn’t even touched your tea as you ranted about how awful he had been all week.

“Date older! They said…they’re more mature…s’a bunch of BS.” You finished with a huff.

“Yeah, unfortunately older doesn’t necessarily mean wiser…” he said softly, “I’m sorry all that happened. You do deserve better.”

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not gonna cry about it.” 

“Well if you feel like crying you should.” He said and you smiled and shook your head.

“No, I don’t feel sad. That’s the weird thing, like I just feel…stupid I guess for not…snapping out of this sooner.” You explained, “Like…” you stoped to lick over your lips and snigger, “I’ve praised this guy up and down as if he fucking hung up the sun and moon and bragged about him to my parents and when they come for graduation in 2 weeks he’s not even gonna be around!” You sniggered with embarrassment, “God, I’m such a fucking mess.” You groaned as you covered your face with your palms and he huffed.

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid and you’re not a mess. You’re just…young.” He said with a little shrug and you pouted a bit.

“OK why do you say it in a condescending manner though?” You asked and he sighed.

“Y/N, I’m not. I’m just saying that…when you’re young you don’t…you just don’t have any foresight sometimes. Like your brain isn’t even fully developed yet!” He argued factually and you crossed your arms with a scoff.

“So you are saying I’m stupid.”

“No! God, stop putting words in my mouth!” He said back with a flustered laugh and you were not sure what was so amusing about this, you were getting upset at him now.

“I’m not! I’m just trying to figure out what it is you’re implying by telling me that I’m just young and have an underdeveloped brain!” You nearly shouted and he sighed.

“Keep it down, please. I have neighbors.” He warned and you looked at him expectantly and he tutted, “I’m just trying to say that you’re a little…naive.” He finished and you looked at him like he was insane.

“I’m not naive, Harry.” You said and he looked at you like you had grown another head, “I’m not naive!” You said louder.

“Raising your voice doesn’t make what you’re saying correct.” He said calmly and you were boiling over with rage. You knew he wasn’t being smug about it or anything but he clearly was about to school you if you kept pushing this argument. But you were also very certain that he had you all wrong. 

“Then stop calling me naive!”

“I don’t know why you think that’s such an awful thing, Y/N. You’re young, you’re supposed to be naive like…I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that naïveté implies that someone is clueless! And I’m not clueless!”

“Not about everything, but there are just things that you do that…show your age.” Is all he said and you pouted.

“OK, like what?”

“Like you dating an older man because he’s gonna be “more mature”, like please, Y/N! Age really is just a number.” He stated with a dry and obvious tone and you scoffed at him, “Or like a few weeks ago when he asked you for money and you gave him, a grown ass man, your money and then had to ask me for rides because you couldn’t reload your tube pass!” He said.

“His car got towed and he lost his wallet!” You defended.

“What kind of mature, responsible man gets so fucking shit faced that he looses his car and his wallet?” Harry asked and you just bit the inside of your cheek as you glared at him, “And you found naked pictures on his phone a few days ago and didn’t end it then?” He questioned.

“Maybe I misinterpreted things or-”

“Or maybe you just turn a blind eye to logic and go against your better judgement because you’re too caught up in whatever illusion he’s weaved for you that you doubt your instincts. That proves that you are naive and imprudent and that, more than anything else, just shows how young you are.” He said. The way you were looking at him kind of blankly made him nervous, maybe he had taken this too far, but it just frustrated him that you chose these things for yourself when you were far more intelligent than that. You pushed reason aside for fun sometimes and it was getting you hurt, which was very imprudent of you, and he wanted that to stop. He wanted you to stop doing this to yourself.

“God, why couldn’t you have told me this sooner!” You groaned with irritation as you crumbled up the napkin he laid out for you and tossed it at his chest. He glanced down at where you hit him with the paper and then back to you with a relieved smile.

“I just…didn’t want to overstep. Like what you choose to do is not my business to meddle in you know. And I get that some people just…learn the hard way. Like when I was younger the last thing I wanted was for someone slightly older to try and give me advice or something when like…experiences will help you learn too and-”

“Jut because you were like that when you were young it doesn’t mean I am.” You interrupted him with a smug smile and he smiled as well.

“Yeah, I…can see that now.” He said softly and you bit your lip as he just looked in your eyes for a bit more. It was making you feel concerned and small under his scrutiny but then he just looked away and shook his head, “Well, I’m gonna get back to bed, but if you need anything just knock or intrude or whatever.” He said and you just nodded dumbly as he started to leave the kitchen. 

As soon as he left you shifted in your seat and then froze at the feeling of you completely drenched in his briefs. Yes, Harry was so nice to look at but you had always kind of seen him as like another older brother. Yeah, you’d had a saucy dream or two of him, but it’d never been more than that, it had never been whatever was suddenly going on in your panties. You shifted a bit in your seat and pressed your hips down and your bit your lip at the friction of the rounded edge of the high stool rubbing right against your slit. You wriggled around a bit to try and get some friction right on your clit and right when you found the position you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left your mouth as you started to hump against it a little harder. One of your hands was gripping the counter and then other the edge of the stool as you ground yourself against it a bit more, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the feeling of the material of Harry’s briefs starting to stick to your pussy the more you humped against the stool. You started to grunt breathily as the pleasure inside of you started to build and blossom. Suddenly you felt two big hands on your hips, stopping your movements and you gasped in surprise.

“Imprudent.” Harry’s husky voice tickled at the shell of your ear, “See. You don’t have any foresight. You don’t think of the consequences of your actions.” He said and you swallowed thickly, “I mean, did you even stop to think that you’re in my flat? Humping your little pussy on my furniture?” He questioned and you shook your head, “Didn’t think so.” He said, “What’s got you so worked up anyway that you didn’t even have the decency to wait to get into bed?”

“I don’t know. After you left I w-was gonna put this in the sink and I…I was so wet.” You confessed. Mentally you were begging that he’d do something to you. Anything, you’d take anything. Harry smirked at your confession.

“A little degradation kink perhaps…” he said and your arms became covered in goosebumps, “Did you even know until now?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. I didn’t even think that I would-”

“Get so wet while I insulted your intelligence?” He asked and you nodded and swallowed thickly. He didn’t ask, you just suddenly felt his hand release your hip only for him to  wedge it between your legs. You sighed in relief as he felt how soaked in your arousal the thin material of his briefs were, “Fuck.” He groaned, “If there’s anything good about being young it’s this.” He said as he rubbed your sticky mess into you, you were holding as still as possible, still in shock that this was happening, “Young pussy get’s so fucking wet.” He sighed as he nipped at your earlobe, you were covered in goosebumps, “It keeps getting wetter and wetter the more you play with it.” He hummed in amusement, “Should I keep playing with it?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he smirked, “Tell me then.” You huffed.

“Harry-”

“Don’t whine. Tell me you want me to touch and play with your pussy.” He breathed out and you whimpered, “Please, babygirl. I need to hear you say it, been dying to hear you say it for ages.” He breathed out hard against you.

“Please, touch my pussy. I need you to touch me.” You whimpered and he sighed in relief before turning you around hoisting you up onto the counter. His eyes met yours and the look in them was dark, his pupils were enlarged, and his breathing ragged.

“You’re sure about this?” He asked and you shook your head with a smile.

“No. Are you?” You whispered as his hands ran up and down your thighs and he smiled back.

“No. But I…want to. It’s just…your brother would kill me. Like I’m totally betraying his trust.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty pissed. I like to piss him off though, it’s fun.” You said and bit your lip as he shook his head at your antics, “Don’t give me that, you’re the baby brother, you know how gratifying it is to get under your sibling’s skin.” You said.

“Yeah when I was a child.” He emphasized with a grin and you hummed.

“Then…do it for yourself. After all, you’ve been waiting to play with my pussy for ages, right?” You asked coyly and he chuckled nervously, “How long, hmm?” You asked softly as you draped your arms over his shoulders to minimize the space between you two. He let it diminish as he glanced up in your eyes, “How long, Harry?” You asked again, more pointedly this time and he sighed as his fingers dug into your thighs.

“At mine and your brother’s graduation party. I went inside to get more pool towels and when I passed by the laundry room I heard you and your boyfriend in there. You didn’t fully close the door and I…saw him, very briefly, fingering you.” He said as you smirked, “You sounded so pretty, I just wanted to get in there and make you feel a lot better. Knew I could’ve made you feel better than him.” He confessed and you smiled, you didn’t even remember that happening until he brought it up. You had just finished your first year of college then.

“Really think you could’ve done a better job?” You asked and he almost looked at you in offense.

“I know so. Also know that prick Charlie wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” He stated confidently and you smiled as you just took him in. He really was gorgeous, you’d talked yourself out of crushing on him a lot, especially when you were younger…but now with him so close to you…with his hand having been between your legs…with the very obvious bulge of his boner grazing your right inner thigh everything you had done to not have those feelings for him was completely ruined. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad.

“Show me then.” You said and he looked over your eyes again, “I know we probably shouldn’t but I need it. I need you so badly.” You said softly and he hummed in contemplation. He wanted this too, so badly…his cock was so hard for you. He wanted to show you what he could do; he wanted you to think about it and him between your legs and to get drenched like you were now every time the memory resurfaced, which he would make sure was a lot. This was his one and only chance…

“Just this once.” He decided and you nodded.

“Yeah, just once.”

“Here or in my bedroom?” He asked and you nodded.

“The room if that’s OK. I’ll even go to the guest bedroom after, I promise.” You said and he didn’t wait another moment before he pulled your face in and kissed you. It was sloppy and needy and so fucking desperate that it was making your body even more aroused for him. You loved how big his hands felt on you. You knew he was strong and he could do anything he wanted to you and something about that gave you relief. 

“Hold on tight.” He muttered before picking you up and carrying you the short distance to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut once he made it through the threshold and carefully dropped you onto his bed. You almost moaned just from feeling the bed beneath you, it was so big and soft and cuddly. You never wanted to get up! “Get naked.” He said and you sat up in the dark and tore off his shirt and his briefs, you then hugged your legs to your chest to cover yourself a bit as you waited for him. You could barely make him out standing at the side of the bed, suddenly the side lamp flicked on, “I need to see, want to remember you.” He said as he turned to you again, “Show me your body.” He said softly and you slowly let go and then laid down on his bed. His eyes took in your face, your chest, your stomach, your hips, your labia… but he wanted more, “Open your legs f’me, spread them. Show me your little pussy.” He instructed and you nervously started to part your legs as he started to kneel. He wanted to be face level with your pussy, “Fuck, look at you. Such a pretty little thing.” He huffed and your skin rose with goosebumps, “Can already see you dripping.” He chuckled breathily.

“M’so wet for you, Harry.” You whispered and he hummed.

“I know, babygirl. Show it all to me, hold yourself open for me.” He said as he glanced up into your eyes and you felt your fingers tense, you were feeling nervous and timid, “Go on, babygirl. You can’t be shy about this if you weren’t shy about humping my stool in the open kitchen.” He said and you groaned.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” You asked breathily.

“Nope.” He confirmed smugly. He was very pleased with you when you brought your hands down between your legs and held your labia apart. He couldn’t help but lick his lips and salivate at the sight of your exposed and spread pussy. It was small and cute, your little clit was swollen and he was aching to suck on it. Then your tight little entrance…it was making him feral. His cock would definitely stretch you open and leave you with a memorable ache; an ache he knew you wanted. He watched your little hole pulsing in perfect time with his heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself as he delved into your pussy tongue first.

“H-harry!” You gasped as he groaned against you and stuffed his tongue inside of you as far as he could. You were squirming until he held your thighs open and started thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. You were so sensitive right there and it made you whimper when he started to just lick at and over your hole.

“Hold yourself open for me.” He mumbled as he reared back and then he spat against your pussy. You dropped your head back into the bed as he started to lick you up from top to bottom, he was avoiding your clit though and it was making you go insane. Every part of your pussy was being toyed with except where you were desperate for his touch. He knew what he was doing though as he chuckled and said something about it throbbing. You didn’t need to see it to believe it, you could feel it throbbing steadily.

“Harry, please! Please make me come!” You keened, “Please, please, please, please.” You whimpered as he continued to suck and slurp and lave all over you until finally, he started to mercilessly flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your legs almost immediately started to shake and you dug your fingers into his hair, “Oh fuck!” You cried out. But as soon as he started to suck at your clit you lost all ability to speak. All you could do was gasp and shriek and mutter incoherent nonsense as each little slurp and suckle pulled you closer and closer into orgasmic bliss. When you started to wind up you tugged hard on Harry’s hair and he groaned against you.

“More.” He grunted and so you did it again, harder and his moans only added to your pleasure. He was so consistent, staying at the perfect pace until you started to come undone. Your back arched as you tried to kick him away with your shaking legs, but he was holding them down harshly and sucking and licking you until you had completely withered.

“Oh shit…” you sighed in contentment and just as you had begun to relax your body tensed back up when he nipped at your clit. He held you down as the stimulation continued until you were trembling and coming beneath him and crying out for him to stop. But he didn’t stop yet. It was hard to breathe and your head was spinning as he pulled you through yet another orgasm, you felt so out of sorts as your legs twitched and you hiccuped for a proper breath.

“Fuck…y’just taste so good, babygirl.” His words vibrated against your throbbing cunt and made you wince, “S’alright. I know it’s sensitive.” He hummed before kissing your inner thighs and then working his way up your body. His hands explored your dips and curves expertly and you raised your body to follow the movements of his hands along your skin. When he got to your breasts he was teasing with his mouth, winding you up until your already fucked out pussy was thrusting up, searching for his big bulge to rub against. You thought you were spent, but you needed so much more. Your lust for him kept growing and growing, it was consuming you entirely. 

When his lips finally met yours again and his center aligned with yours you felt relief; he felt big, you had yet to see his cock but he was heavy against you and it was exhilarating. He ground himself against you, working himself up. There would surely be a big wet spot on his sweats but something told you he wouldn’t mind it. The way he was kissing you was communicating very clearly that he had indeed been waiting for a long time to have this opportunity with you. 

“Please, Harry just do it.” You whined breathily, so impatient and eager to feel him.

“You were just begging me to stop. Make it make sense, baby.” He said with a smug grin and you wanted to slap it off his face but the way he looked in your eyes playfully and called you ‘baby’ made you reconsider. So instead of firing back some bratty retort you stayed quiet despite an evident pout overwhelming your features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ll give it to you, just waiting a little bit.”

“For what?” You asked.

“Don’t you get so overwhelmed that you go a little numb? Read that can happen.” He asked with raised brows and you nodded.

“Yeah, a little bit…” you said as you thought about it.

“Don’t want to be doing things just for the heck of it, want you to actually feel good when I…you know?” He said more timidly and you smirked at him.

“When you what?” You asked.

“What?” He questioned you.

“You said you want it to feel good when you…and then you trailed off into something else.” You teased and he shook his head with a bashful smile.

“You know very well what.”

“Oh come on, just say it. You can’t be all shy about it when you’re about to… you know?” You mimicked him with a grin and he rolled his eyes, “This isn’t instilling a lot of confidence in me…” you hummed.

“Oh please, you nearly passed out from my oral.” Harry countered and your facade broke as you nodded.

“True…excellent oral, by the way… probably the best I’ve ever received.” You mused and he smirked.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah actually, I’d never lie to you about that.”

“About my oral skills?” He asked with a smile and you nodded, “Well, I really enjoyed doing that to you too…probably also one of my favorite times.”

“Probably?” You asked in mock offense and he shrugged.

“Well I can’t tell you the truth! Knowing you, it’ll go straight to your head, s’already too big.” He said with a smile and you hummed.

“Speaking of big heads…” you said with a grin as you rubbed up against him and he chuckled through the little shock of pleasure he received when you ground up against his stiff and aching cock. “Can I touch you while we wait for the numbness to wear off?” You asked as you slowly let your fingers slither down his chest and then circle where you knew his butterfly tattoo was.

“Absolutely not.” He said and you glanced up into his eyes with a frown.

“Harry-”

“I will blow my fucking load in like 30 seconds, OK? I just need to calm down a little bit before I get inside of you.” He confessed and you smirked.

“Oh…”

“None of that smug shit.” He scolded.

“That’s all you do to me! Just be smug and clever and shit!” You reminded with a giggle and he smiled.

“You take it well, I don’t.” He pointed and you hummed smugly.

“Yeah, I take a lot of things well…” you slipped in a little innuendo just for the fun of it and he smiled down at you with a “really?” Look painted across his very handsome and chiseled face. “Well let’s talk about something not sexy to calm you down then.” You said and he hummed in agreement as he then laid beside you and you turned to face him. Your legs trapped one of his in between them and he looked a little concerned, “Don’t worry, I’m not like…trying to make this sentimental or anything I just like how like…how your body hair feels against me. Like it tickles and it’s just a sensory thing I suppose.” You shrugged and he hummed in understanding as you ran one of your legs along his. He kinda had a similar thing he supposed because he wanted to run his hands all over your legs, they were so soft and smooth under his touch.

“What were you gonna talk about before you got distracted by my leg hair?” He asked with a smile and you sniggered as you looked into his eyes.

“If you’ve wanted this for a while why haven’t you tried before?” You asked and he shrugged.

“I just figured that when I felt that way for you it was because you like looked hot that day or something, I never really gave my horny fantasies much weight, you know? But ummm… I think with you being around more and us getting better acquainted like…I’ve realized that I am actually physically attracted to you.” He admitted and you nodded in understanding, “Have you…wanted this before?”

“Ummm…no? I don’t know, really… I’ve always thought you were hot. And I’ve had a couple sex dreams about you though. So clearly, subconsciously, you’ve been on my “to do” list.” You smirked at your pun and he sniggered and shook his head.

“Are these recent dreams?”

“One of them, yeah.” You said and he hummed as he brought a hand to your hip and he let his fingers trace a little further back to your ass as he caressed you, “Oh, I think I’m having a deja vu.” You said and he chuckled.

“Really?” He asked and out of nowhere he smacked your ass hard and you laughed through a surprised shriek, “Liar. You didn’t see that coming did you?” He chuckled.

“Admittedly no. But do you want to know who I did see coming?” You asked with a teasing grin, “Rather prematurely, I must s-” you were cut off by your own laughter as Harry rolled on top of you and started to tickle your sides as you writhed around laughing and gasping for air until he stopped. It was then that you both noticed that one of his hands was laying on your sternum, limiting your intake of oxygen.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright I don’t mind that…I mean it’s not typically where it goes but-”

“Is that better?” He cut you off as his hand slid up to your throat and squeezed at the sides just a little bit and you nodded as best as you could. You loved that slightly floaty feeling that came when you were choked. It made everything feel better, you came for longer, and way harder, “I like this too.” He hummed as he lowered himself now and then kissed you deeply. Your world was spinning as your mouths met eagerly and sloppily, you just wanted to taste any part of him that you could. You could tell that he wanted that too, but he was holding back somehow, you could just feel it inside that there was so much more to explore, “Fuck it if it’s fast, you’ll come. I promise you will.” He grunted and you grabbed his face.

“Also remember, I already came three times so asking for a fourth might be a little much.” You said realistically and he shook his head.

“I want you to come around my cock, Y/N. Need to feel you coming around me.” He said huskily and something told you that whether you intended to or not, you would be coming around his cock and that made you all the more excited. He hadn’t stretched you out at all and so the prospect of getting stretched around his cock was extremely arousing. 

Harry rolled off of the bed to strip his top off and peel his sweats off of his body and your mouth watered at the look and size of him; of course he had a beautiful cock. Yeah, he was on the bigger end of things lengthwise, but what you knew would make it good was the girth of it. His cock was thick and heavy; it probably even looked bigger because of how lean and toned he was, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. Your mouth watered as you watched him grab himself and stroke back his foreskin to expose the already leaking tip of his cock. After a few more strokes he pulled open the bedside drawer and before he could even search you reached out and stopped his hand.

“I have the shot and I’m clean.” You said and he glanced to you. “I am too and it’s not that I don’t trust you, we just really should use protection.” He said and you did look a bit disappointed at this but nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry if I-”

“It’s alright. Why don’t you want to?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Just wanted to really feel it all, you know? But it is reckless and-”

“Why don’t you want to use a condom, Y/N?” He asked you again more firmly but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I just told you!”

“Tell the truth.” he said and you swallowed thickly as he climbed back over your body and ground against you and you whimpered at his precum making your clit all sticky as it beaded out of his tip. 

“I want to feel you come inside me.” You said softly, “It was in my dream and I just remembered that when you went to grab a condom.” You admitted and he grunted lowly as his eyes closed for a second, just processing the information.

“I can’t finish inside of you, Y/N.”

“I know.” You said with a huff and he mulled over his desires in his head.

“I’ll go bare but I’m gonna pull out though, OK?” He compromised and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You agreed and he glanced down to where his cock rested over your core. He pushed through your folds once again and you both moaned softly at the wet sounds of your arousal-soaked skin gliding together. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch this as well, you never wanted to forget this, not a single detail of it. You were so wet for him it was unreal. As soon as you positioned yourself to watch him tease your little cunt he stopped watching himself and just watched your face. You were hanging on by the thread. He started to guide himself down to your entrance and rubbed his tip against you, not pressing with enough pressure to try and stretch you open, but just to tease you and himself. Fuck, you were gonna be a snug fit, “D-do you think it’ll actually fit?” You asked as you glanced up at him and swallowed thickly. You asked because just feeling his head against your entrance made you question it because he hadn’t even stretched you out.

“It’ll fit.” He assured you, trying his best not to get too carried away that you thought his cock was so big it wouldn’t fit inside of you, “If not, we’ll make it fit.” He said as he looked at you and you bit your lip in response as a wave of excitement rushed through your body, “Does that turn you on?” He asked and you nodded, “Good babygirl, want you all bent out of shape for my cock.” He said lowly as he started to press his cock against your entrance and you whimpered as your entrance started to stretch around him to accommodate his size. You couldn’t look away as he gently prodded himself against you, coaxing your little hole open for him. It was driving you insane, you wanted him to just push it in, you could take it, you just needed to feel him inside.

“Har, just get it in.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, it’ll be fine after a little bit and-”

“I care if it hurts you.” He said and you huffed, “Patience, yeah?” He chuckled and you huffed and nodded as you just laid back instead. Watching him take his time was making you absolutely impatient.

“Yeah.” You said and he smiled. He loved how desperate you were for him, but also how he could reel you back in. You seemed to give in to him with such ease and it made him wonder if you were always like this or if this was just his effect on you. He could sleep with you again and verify…but this was a one time thing so he got that thought out of his mind immediately. After a few more goes you started to open up enough for him to push just the tip in.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” You whispered and pressed yourself up again to watch it happen. It absolutely filled him with lust. He bit his lip hard as he added more pressure and your little hole parted and sucked him in, “Oh fuck!” You moaned and then glanced up at him to see his eyes already on yours. 

Harry’s own mouth was hung open now as he struggled to breathe. You were so fucking warm and tight and wet for him. He was reeling as he started to shallowly thrust his tip into you over and over again. His abs were already tightening up. When you started to rub at your clit he groaned because you started to squeeze him.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly.

“More, please. I need more.” You whined as you fell back into the mattress and he nodded and started pushing more in, feeling you adjust as he went in deeper. This was even better than his first time, maybe because he had wanted this with you for so long, “Ohmygod.” You slurred your words and squeezed your eyes shut. You felt so stretched and full that you thought you might explode.

“Just a little more, babygirl. Just a little more and you’ll have it all inside.” He encouraged you softly with his words as he gently thrust in and out, coaxing you open around his cock with each slow but determined thrust. “Fuck yeah…” he grunted when he bottomed out without a warning and you gasped in shock at how your body just opened up, “Shit such a tight little cunt around my big cock. Told you I’d fit.” He moaned as he dipped down to hover over your face. Something about him acknowledging how big he was turned you on, “Fuuuck…such a good fit.” He panted with pleasure.

You were speechless, mind drawn a blank of everything except him and the pleasure of his cock consistently thrusting in and out of you. It was almost an out of body experience as you continued rubbing your clit as he collided with parts of you that you didn’t even know could make you feel good. It was making your breathing hitch and your legs squeeze around his hips.

“Faster?” He asked after you seemed to get used to the feeling of him and you nodded.

“And harder. Please, just a little harder.” You requested and he obliged immediately and a smile spread across your face as you tipped your head back in ecstasy, “Oh fuck, just like that, Harry!” You moaned and he chuckled, loving the sound of his name in the tone of your voice. His hips snapped harder into yours, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting were so perfectly synched with the little grunts he’d let out when your centers collided. When you brought the fingers you’d been rubbing your clit with up to his mouth he opened up and sucked on them, wetting them some more before you put them back.

“Shit baby, you feel so good,” He smiled as he placed a hand on your throat and you smiled, “But it’s time to make you come.” He said and you nodded.

“Please make me come.” You whispered breathily and he snapped at your feeble request and started pounding into you like that was his only purpose in life. You squeaked out in surprise at the sudden burst of intensity, but you easily succumbed to the pleasure that started to spread from deep in your belly and to the rest of your body. Harry was overwhelmed with just how perfect you were for him, even into the same things he was into so far. He needed to make sure that he ruined you for anyone else. Selfishly, he wanted to be the man you compared everyone else to. He knew that boys your age couldn’t even compare and that got him off.

“Gonna ruin this little pussy.” He groaned and you moaned in response, “Want you dripping for me every time we see each other. Want you to have more dreams about me and my cock now that you’ve had it.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You were all his for tonight, just this one night and he was going to take full advantage of that. “Fuck babygirl, y’just feel so fucking good.” He groaned and started going harder. You moaned each time his cock buried itself inside of you until your legs were trembling, he started to squeeze around your throat and your head started to get all fuzzy as your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“M’close! So close!” You gasped pitifully as you rubbed your clit faster.

“Yeah, I can feel it, babygirl.” He panted, “Come for me. All over my cock, need to feel it.” He muttered desperately. Your body started to tense up even more and your other hand scratched down his back in a desperate attempt to be a bit more grounded as your orgasm started to burst through you; you were squirting. This had never happened to you like this and it was otherworldly. You felt like you were transcending and your vision was going splotchy as you gasped for air that you didn’t have access to. Every part of you was tingling and as soon as you felt your core tighten up for the last time an involuntary and broken cry left your throat as you started to come. You were just moaning, no words were being formed, just sounds as the waves of pleasure started to ripple through you endlessly so it seemed. Harry removed his hand from your throat and bored his face against it, kissing you, tasting you there, milking the pleasure before he had to pull out of you.

“Fuck. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly as he started to thrust faster, chasing his own released. Your legs crossed around his hips and pulled him deeper, which made you wince but he moaned into your throat at the hot and spongey spot that his tip was kissing with each desperate thrust.

“Please come inside me.” You whimpered and he practically whined against your sweaty skin.

“Baby-”

“Please, I want it so bad. Give it to me, please.” You begged. He really wanted to come inside of you. Make you his in every sense. He kissed your lips messily and nodded.

“Shit babygirl, I’ll give you my cum.” He panted and his steady rhythm started to falter and his breathing started to hitch, “Oh fuck, take it, babygirl. Take all my fucking cum.” He moaned desperately against your mouth as he started to unravel. You moaned as you felt each twitch of his cock inside of you. The wet sounds got louder and his thrusts got slower but rougher as he shot his load deep in your pussy, like you had asked. Your hands came up, one to his hair and the other to smooth over his back as he worked himself through it until his weight was slumped over you. 

A silence overcame you both for several moments, you could not believe how incredible this had all been. You were reeling still, trying to recall little details that would be very useful for you in the future. You smiled dopily at the thought that Harry had done just what he’d set out to do, ruin you for anyone else. You felt him shift and then press himself up to be able to look at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly and you nodded before smiling.

“I’m very alright. Are you?” You asked and he grinned.

“Yeah. Never been better.” He assured and you giggled, “That was…really good. Wasn’t it?”

“Too good…” you said with a chuckle and he hummed as he looked you over once more and then looked away from your eyes timidly.

“Yeah…ummm, let me…get out.” He said and you laughed softly, “Just, squeeze a bit f’you can? I…cum a lot.” He said glancing up to you again.

“Of course you do…” you sighed before biting your lip and tightening up. You whimpered as he started to slip out.

“Oh shit.” He said and rushed off of the bed to grab his t-shirt from the floor and quickly   placed it over your vagina, presumably to avoid getting it all on the bedding.

“You’re gonna have to change this anyway, I’ve already…you know.” You said timidly as he glanced up while cleaning you up a bit.

“You can’t possibly be all shy about anything while I’m literally collecting my sperm out of you.” He said and you giggled and just laid your head back down. You wanted him to lick you clean and well, he was thinking the same thing, but this was supposed to be a one time thing. If he tasted himself and you mixed together this way he would surely end up putting another load in your pussy, “OK, I think that’s all of it.” He said as he stood by with the t-shirt just in case. 

“I’ll just go sit in the bathroom for a bit, should probably pee.” You said as you sat up and he nodded.

“Right.” He agreed as he moved to let you get off of the bed. You glanced at the ground to locate the shirt he had given you earlier, but you realized it was the one he had used to clean you up.

“Ummm, I’m gonna grab this one since that one’s-”

“Yeah, go for it.” He assured.

“And your sweats too since the briefs are…”

“Way too wet.” 

“Right!” You said as you picked that up as well and covered your naked body as you started to walk towards his bedroom door, “Thank you for that. But also fuck you for that because, you know that was…unreal sex.” You chuckled as you opened the door and he grinned.

“Yeah. Fuck you too.” He said and you giggled before slipping out and closing the door. 

You rushed into the bathroom when you felt more of his cum start to come out slowly with your movements. So you locked yourself in there and cleaned yourself up a bit more before sitting down to pee. You were panicking now as you thought of everything that had transpired. You ended up taking another body shower because you were sweaty. And as you rinsed off once again there were a lot of thoughts happening. But there was one huge and harrowing thought plaguing you and it was that there was no way this was the only time you guys could sleep together. That wouldn’t be fair, it was way too spectacular to be a one and done. Just the thought of it made you throb as you pulled his sweats up your body. You got the t-shirt on next and then sighed as you turned to the door and had another thought just as you swung it open to see him leaning on the wall directly across from the bathroom door; he was waiting for you.

“I have a boyfriend.” You verbalized your thought to him and Harry stepped up to you and grabbed your face in his hands with a grin.

“Fuck your boyfriend.” He said lowly, “And fuck the one time only thing. And fuck condoms. And fuck your brother’s rule. And fuck sleeping in the guest room.” You smirked at him and he was smirking right back at you, “Are you cool with that?” He asked.

“Yeah. Fuck all that.” You agreed quietly. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“Let’s get to bed then.” He said instead and you nodded and he led you back into his bedroom. There was a new bedcover over some presumably fresh sheets and you both settled in and you smiled as he pulled your body against his. You had both fallen silent, just relaxing and getting used to whatever this was about to be and then his phone dinged loudly from his bedside table. “God damnit.” He huffed and let you go as he sat up and reached over you to grab it and silence it. But when he saw the text on the screen he almost laughed. “It’s him.” He said into the darkness and you sighed. He unlocked his phone and looked at the text, “He says: Hey man, just wanna know if you've heard from Y/N? Her phone is off? Or do you have any idea of where she might be?” He finished reading the message and you smirked.

“Gimme that.” You said and he gave you his phone, assuming you’d send him a message to throw him off that you two were together. But then you pressed on the little camera icon and he couldn’t help the satisfaction he felt seeping into every fiber of his body, “Say cheese.” You sang.

“Fuck that, just take it.” He said and you giggled and threw up a peace sign before snapping the picture and smiling at the result. He looked mad and threatening, which was perfect. Harry grabbed his phone back with a grin and then texted: Yeah man, she’s with me and it’s over with you. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” You assured and he hummed as he sent it and then blocked his number before handing you his phone to put it back on the nightstand. You hummed happily as he wrapped his arm around you again. As you let his warmth envelope you, you smiled as you started to think about all of the great things that would surely come of this because Harry was absolutely right before, you two were a good fit.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

I wanna hear your head canons about Gaz (sfw or nsfw, or both,what ever you want), you write him so well 😩

—In His Head

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞

This man is literally the only one in the One-Four-One I could see having/keeping a long-term relationship without much challenge and/or angst. Johnny’s a close second, but Kyle takes the cake because I love him and I’m biased towards men with brown eyes.

Gaz strikes me as incredibly attentive and kind—especially to someone he loves and cares about in more than a friendly way. He’s a breakfast-in-bed type of boyfriend even if he’s tired. Long date nights that leave you both laughing and losing track of time until it’s late at night and you have to get back to your flat before the sun comes up. I’m talking fancy/casual/anything that he feels you emulate at the time of going out. 

You want to dress up? He’s already called for a reservation at the expensive restaurant down the street. You’re tired from work but want to do something with him? An easy dinner is already cooked and a movie is playing on the telly—your favorite drink is in your hand before you can slip off your shoes near the door.

Gaz has that boyish charm that I talk about often. He’ll make you laugh, gasp, and wheeze even when you think you can’t. 

That isn’t to say he’s never serious, because he is. 

When the weight becomes too much, he’s by your side when he’s off from deployments. He pulls you into one of those tight and all-consuming hugs, head on top of yours and lightly rocking you back and forth while you cry it out. Whispering into your scalp and rubbing his hand up and down your spine. Gaz breathes you down, concern tight in his face and his jaw clenched to restrain the flood of what he wants to say—you only need him to hold you and tell you things are going to be okay, so that’s what he does.

NSFW-wise, he’s just as attentive. He’s not inexperienced, either—he knows how to please you and has no trouble forsaking his painful hard-on just to get you off as many times as it takes with his fingers/mouth. 

Personally, I think he has an oral fixation. Loves watching you writhe above him as he goes down on you, or, heaven forbid he gets you to sit on his face. Goes absolutely feral as his face gets drenched and he feels your nails on his scalp. Moans/groans/grunts unabashedly as his hands grip your thighs and ass, letting your hips jump and tighten around him. 

Does not care if you’re worried about your weight. 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want it, Love.”

Make him go lightheaded. He’s begging you. 

Gaz is a switch—top, bottom, doesn’t matter, he’s making you feel good and you’re making him feel amazing so it doesn’t bother him if you suddenly shove him over and climb on top mid-fuck. His hands snap and help you ride him, head tilting back into the pillow and mouth opening in breathless groans. 

I don’t see him as incredibly into rough sex—he would never hurt you, and anything that involves that would make him nervous about your safety. Very light breathplay is alright, but he’s not going to apply more pressure than a light squeeze. Gets upset if he finds any marks beyond hickeys on you—kisses them and mutters apologies into your skin as he continues rutting into you softly. 

Very into overstimulation and edging on both parts. 

Bring him to tears and leave him wanting you until he’s physically shaking and trying to grab at himself even as he’s hissing at the slight sizzles of pain. 

But, above all of that, he always wants to see your eyes while he’s pounding into you—missionary is his go-to until you decide you want to move/change/etc. The man just likes making sure you’re enjoying yourself, and that in and of itself helps get him off. Moan for him, be as loud as you want, it’s like a present as your eyes go all glossy and pleasure-drunk.

Will tease you about it though. I don’t make the rules.

“That good, Love? Yeah? Fuckin’ hell, hear that down there? Dripin’ for me—c’mon let me hear it, then. Let me hear those sounds from that pretty mouth. There we are, just like that. No need to be shy.”

Just slam your lips to his to shut him up, he can’t resist you—it’ll even make him move a bit faster.

All and all 10/10 boyfriend/husband material if you can deal with him being away for long periods of time for deployments. 

No doubt he always makes it up to you on leave.

[wowserb0wser]

"The Mushroom Kingdom Ball"

Description: Being the sister of Princess Peach was all fun and dandy, but of course you were barely in the spotlight. Until a certain someone, "The Kooba King" took notice and since then, he couldn't stop thinking about you. And what happens when an obsessed Bowser meets you at The Mushroom Kingdom Ball.

Pairing: Bowser x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Warning(s): MDI!! SMUT!!!, (I don't know if I should be sorry or but I'm horny) Breathplay/Choking kink, Size Kink/Size Difference, Innocent Kink/Corruption Kink, Virgin reader, Penetration (P in V), Oral (Fem.), Degrading, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Nicknames (Brat once, Sweetheart, Baby, Bunny), Dry humping/Grinding, Sitting on Bowser's lap once, No used of Y/N, Lmk if I missed anything ;)

Words: 7.8k (I got swept up in this)

A/N: I think I've hit my breaking point, but I was taken back by Jack Black's voice in the trailer and holy shit - Browser is fine…

It was non-stop. Painful, even.

All he wanted was some damn peaceful time to himself and stop thinking about you. Stupid you. Dumb and naive you.

It was only you that took so much time and energy out of himself. Every waking moment since he rises from bed, to showering, brushing his teeth, eating breakfast, and every other moment in his day. On repeat was the stupid smile plastered on that stupid face of yours. How he wanted to swipe that smirk off of those lips of yours… those soft, plump, sweet lips.

He hated himself. Truly hated himself for thinking of these ways about you. Someone as so small and innocent, yet grown and sophisticated as yourself. He though of himself as vile. How could someone as tough and mean as him ever fall for such a toothachingly sweet thing as you.

Yet, here he finds himself watching you as you sleep ever so soundly in bed. All while little moans squeak pass your lips. Your hips thrusting into air at nothing. How your face contorts in seemingless pleasure. Just seeing you rut in your sleep made Bowser's mind go blank, just imagining of what kind of dream you were exactly having. Though it wasn't that farfetched. But he was curious as to who was providing that pleasure in your sweet dreams. And God himself knew that Bowser hoped it was he in your dreams.

He was so big, yet so gentle when it came to you. How his smile curved a little more while with you and the way his cheeks flared with hints of pink when you smiled back at him.

His big hands stretched across your body, a palm simply taking up half of your torso. How big he was towering over you, you should be scared. Calling for help or pleading that he wouldn't hurt you, but you weren't. Your mind was telling you that this was dangerous, flashing red warning signs. The hunger behind his eyes. And how he looked like he could swallow you in one bite. You should be cowering in fear. But how could you resist the way his hands felt so warm on your body. How you wanted this for what seems like ages now. And now you finally had him.

Though you've never been any sort of relationship or anything in this type of manner, you knew this was more then a simple crush. You've remember the times your sister, Princess Peach and her friend Princess Daisy talked about the multiple experiences with boys their age and these type of feeling and wants. So you knew you've wanted him since the beginning, but how could he ever think of you like this. He was older then you and definitely rougher then you could ever be.

Oh how you've wanted him, his deep and sultry voice looms over your frame, over your mind. How you could hear his voice whisper sweet nothing in your ear as your finger went towards your panties. How you wished it was his and not yours.

But maybe that was the exact reason why you were in this state in the first place: having an erotic dream about that very man.

His hands tighten around your throat to cut off a slight bit of oxygen, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. Causing you to moan lowly. All whilst his other hand snakes down your soft body towards your panties. His finger tips could already feel the small patch of dampness in the center and could tell by the way your hips bucked and begged for him, for friction. He laughed at your antics, humored by your eagerness. And that laugh caused you to squirm even further in his touch. How simple it was to rile you up, he was going to love exploring what exactly what makes you tick-

Letting out a groan from what exactly woke you up. You arose from your sleep, still groggy and half-dead. Hearing another pair of knock on your wooden door before shouting, "Come in!". The culprit of the knocking was of course your sister.

KNOCK KNOCK

A big smile printed on her face, it was almost enough to make you forget why you were exactly grumpy but then your mind started to defog and your dreams was realign back to you.

"I have some big news!" Your sister screeched with excitement.

Bowser watched the somewhat grumpy expression on your face as Princess Peach barged in your room. Like a upset bunny or puppy, it was almost adorable. He found it amusing how upset you were from being awoke from your little wet dream. But if he was in the position that you were in, he would also have that expression. And by the looks of things, you were close to being finished.

Your cheeks are flashed with pinks and red by your dream, the first sex dream you've ever had. And of course it had to be so vivid and by the feel of things you were really enjoying that dream as well.

Clearly or simply ignoring your state, your sister continues. "Guess who got invited to The Mushroom Kingdom Ball!" She slightly jumped while entering your room with the paper that stated her invite. Her heals clicking on the floor, "Hmm, I wonder who?" You rolled your eyes and teased. Of course she was invited, she's always invited. She huffed at your antics before plopping on your bed. "Alright Ms. Smarty-pants, well guess who has another invite." Her smile growing even larger (though you thought was impossible at this point). Quickly you realize, "Are you serious?" You pushed your covers and reached for another paper your sister slipped past the original she held in her hand.

A small giggle leaving her lips as she watches your excitement over the invite.

And from where Bowser stood he could even hear the excitement in your yelp. It must of been great news on that flimsy piece of paper. Yet how meaningless what was on that paper to him, the way you jumped up from your bed and hugged your sister was enough for even Bowser to be happy for you.

This would be the first official Mushroom Kingdom Ball you would be attending. You'd never been expected to go as you weren't old enough or mature enough. These balls were primarily for the eligibility for marriage for all the other kingdoms to mingle with each other and hopefully meet someone to their liking. And now you were finally getting invited. Finally you might be the center of attention at this ball rather than your sister, as everyone knew she and Mario definitely had something going on behind the shadows.

A small bit of blush creeped up your neck at the thought of Bowser possibly showing. But there was talk that he hasn't been to the Balls in many many years. But he was a part of the Koopa Kingdom, maybe this was your chance at a shot. Even though you already pictured the disgusted face of your sister if she ever knew about your fancy over him. Yet, you still hope that maybe this was your chance to prove to everyone that you weren't just innocent Princess Peach's little sister.

—--

You were over the moon excited as Toadette fitted the dress over your body. It hugged the exact places it needed and flowed down toward the bottom, ending with a flare of favorite color. It was shockingly fast how the toads could whip up a dress for this very occasion. But nonetheless you weren't going to question their antics, you've appreciated everything that they've done for you.

And with you matching heals and makeup you head downstairs, where you are greeted with your sister and Mario in an embrace. You glance away quickly as their lips connects for a kiss.

You let out a muffed cough which grabs both their attention to where the noise came from. And seeing you all dolled up made you sister abandon Mario and hastily rush over to you. She reaches out her hands to meet with yours. You could see in her eyes that she was overjoyed, seemingly proud of how grown up you've become. "Oh my, well look at you!" A toothy smile rises from her lips, which makes you infollow do the same. "Doesn't she look beautiful Mario?" She quips behind her to look at the former plumber.

His hand reaches behind his neck, still somewhat embarrassed at being caught with your sister. "You look absolutely gorgeous, you are going to be the talk of the ball." He compliments. Your sister faces you again, still with a bright smile. "Let's go and show you off." You giggle at her statement. This was going to be a hell of a night.

You finally reach the venue, Mario, Peach, and yourself in the back of a limo. We all agreed that Mario would step out first to talk to the press whilst you and Peach wait for a couple of moments. Which you were glad for because at this moment you were experiencing some nerves from it all.

Your sister turns to you, "Everything will be okay, I was this anxious my first time. But trust me everything is going to be just fine." She rubs her hand on your exposed shoulder to ease you. "And I'll introduce you to some people and if you still feel uncomfortable you can stay by me and Mario." She explains further but doesn't quite help with your nerves. "I don't want to third wheel you and your boyfriend Peach." You look up at her.

This was your first ball, you don't want to be seen hovering with your sister like a lost puppy. How pathetic would that look in the press.

"Boyfriend?" She says in disbelief, "Mario is not my boyfriend, we are just close." She scroffs, a small hint of blush on top of her cheeks. You practically huff at the arrogance. "Does he know that?" You furrow your eyebrows at her. She turns her head from you, as you know the look upon her face would be slightly disappointing. She knew she dragged Mario around and it was not fair to him. "Let's go and have some fun." She returns to her happy-go-lucky mood and takes your hand.

Once you stepped out of the limo the flashing lights from the photographers blinded you. Your eyes squint from the bursting lights, you turn your head to your sister to see if she was having the same reaction. But as your eyes landed on her, she poses for the photos and with no discomfort. Some of the toad photographers shout out words towards her and even you. "Let's get going." She whispers to you as she sees how uncomfortable you were from all the attention. And you were so glad that she understood.

You and Princess Peach, hand in hand, walking in the venue. Multiple eyes glance towards her but stop on you. Slight shocked expressions at your appearance at this ball. You felt embarrassed to say the least with all the eyes on you, you knew you want the center attention but now you think otherwise.

You sister, once again, sees how uncomfortable you became and walked towards where Mario stood. Him and his brother stood by the food table, both already had a plate in their hands with various foods aligned. As you approach them, they seem to notice and smile appeared on their faces. "You two look beautiful." Luigi speaks, his eyes scanning your body. You quickly thank him along with your sister.

With you greeting with the Plumber brothers, your sister drags you along with introducing you to almost everyone in the ballroom. It was quite intensive, with having to learn everyone's names and occupation, as Princess Peach told you that it was very important to learn about everyone. She says maybe one day you'll rule the kingdom and learning soon then later would lighten up the load later. A simple conversation starts and last for a couple of minutes before a loud bang and a couple of gasp causes you to glance where the noises were coming from.

There he stood, the Koopa King.

He wore a bowtie, which seems to small for this larger figure. And a black classic tuxedo. Beside him was one of his dry bone henchmen. All that was heard was the whisper of the guests, surprised at his appearance, apparently he barely showed to these occasions if at all. And now seeing him all dressed up brought even more questions.

But he either didn't hear or seem to care at the whispers, his eyes glance around the room for someone specific. And thankfully the rumors of little pretty you being invited to the Mushroom Kingdom Ball happened to be true. And that must of been what you were jumping with excitement with your sister earlier in the day.

There you stood with a beautiful gown, your eyes level with his and once making eye contact you look away with bright pink cheeks. And in that moment Bowser knew he needed you and was planning exactly how to get you in his bed tonight. First he needed you to step away from that sister of yours and especially from the plumber brothers.

And thankfully, almost on cue, you stepped away and headed to the punch table.

He waltz directly where you went, his eyes never leaving your form. In the thought of taking his eyes off of you you'd disappear in thin air. His stunt caused people to turn back to their conversation, probably to talk about him showing his face at this ball. His dry bone henchmen follows in suit, the clunching of his bones raddling as he rushed beside his boss.

You barely even noticed that Bowser was headed your way until he was only a few feet away from you. You thought of just sprinting away from him, how could you face him after just a couple of hours ago you were having a sex dream of him. But with his long strides it was too late to do anything but greet him.

"It's a pleasure to meet with you once again." Your hand reaches up half way to meet with his. "A pleasure? Really?" His voice is as sultry as ever. And his hand almost comically larger than yours. Automatically heat rushes to your cheeks and you could feel the prying eyes of the other guests. But Bowser could careless of what the snops of the Mushroom Kingdom thought of him, only your opinion matter to him.

"Well, let it be my pleasure Princess." He lifts your hand to reach his mouth, placing a tender kiss on the back of your palm. If people weren't staring before at this interaction, they definitely were now.

And how could you blame them, at this sight of the innocent princess with the violent King of Koopa's. Yet seeing the both of you flustered with each other made the guest question even further at your interaction.

"You look absolutely stunning Princess." What he really wanted to say was; you look absolutely delicious. How he wanted to devour you on the spot, you just looked so cute and good.

If your cheeks weren't hot red before, now they were. You muffle a cough to distract yourself from his compliment. "W-Would you like something to drink? I was planning on getting some punch." You move on from the conversation and you needed a cold drink to somewhat calm down how hot you've became around him. You were about to reach for a cup before he ticked at you. "A princess shouldn't need to lift a finger for anything she needs." He says in a smooth tone, you quirk up an eyebrow at him. "Dry Bones, get the girl some punch!" He shouts at the poor henchmen, who flinches a little before rushing in his order.

His loud booming voice should of scared you off but you couldn't step away from him. His dominance was clear as the blue big sky and maybe that was another reason for your attraction towards him. How big and manly he is, takes no crap from anyone.

"How are you enjoying your time here?" He simply ask, at this time his dry bones comes up to the both of you with each of your drinks. He takes it swiftly all while you thank his henchmen with that sweet buttery voice of yours. "I've only been here for less than an hour." You softly chuckle at his question. The ball just started so he must of known that there wasn't much to speak upon. "You didn't answer my question." He repeats himself, this time his eyebrows is furrowed waiting for a response. "It's kind of boring, I thought it would be more exciting." You tell him, still leaving out about your anxiety for this whole thing.

He lets out a small laugh, "More exciting?" You also giggle at his repeat. "Well yeah, this is supposively the most important Ball of the year. I thought there would be more going on." You explain further in the issue, which he understands. "No I get it, the last one I went to, which was many years ago, was quite boring. That's why I normally don't go to these type of things." You listen intently, how your big innocent eyes look up at him. He held himself from groaning at the sight below him.

You hum as a response, you were about to reply but was cut off by the sound of a microphone going off. You face where the sound comes from and you could barely hear how Bowser grunts in frustration at being cut off at a conversation with you.

Toads voice echoed through the ballroom. "Welcome all to the annual Mushroom Kingdom Ball!" He croaked out, all clapped and some shouted out yelps of excitement. "I am the host of this year's Ball. It's been a pleasure so far to create such a fundamental event with all the combining Kingdoms." A few other people cheered as he spoke on, your attention fully on Toad. While Bowser could careless, all he wanted was to mingle with you. These were the only moments without being questioned on in intentions with you. "Now that all introduced are put aside, let the party begin with our live band performance." Toad points toward the other toads all assembled with instruments.

While he introduces the Band, the light starts to dim. Almost as a signal that the annual dance was about to commence. What you didn't know was how important this dance was. It was some sort of ritual. Whomever you picked as a dance partner was your official/unofficial partner for the event and the rest of the evening. Almost as an unspoken rule. And you being the newest arrival, everyone attention was on you to whom you picked to dance with.

And before you could return to your sister to ask who you should dance with or simply sit down and watch the other dance with their partners. Bowser took this opportunity. "Would you like to dance Princess?" He asks in a nonchalant tone, unsuspecting. He was going to take full advantage of your naive nature and your unknowns to the Ball.

"I would love to dance with you." That damn smile shined up to him. That stupid smile that made his heart gush. He hated how you made him feel soft and doopy. But the look on your face with excitement to actually have some fun tonight made him smile back to you. But that smile turned slowly to a smirk at your approval.

He took your hand and began to walk you to the dance floor. Still unbeknownst to you was the importance to this interaction, the total impact with being seen dancing with Bowser. You sister caught your eyes and you smiled to her innocently, but by the way hers and Mario's eyes showed disbelief and surprisement made you question. You glance around at your surroundings and shockingly you saw that everyone was glaring towards you.

No- Rather glaring at Bowser specifically. They must of caught on at your unknowingly nature to the dance and automatically blamed the Koopa King. Taking advantage of your innocent personality. But even if you'd know about what this dance meant, you'd probably still be in this position with Bowser leading you to the dance floor.

But once on the actual dance floor and how Bowser's hand felt upon yours and how he rested his other on your back made the rest of all the guest prying eyes dissipate into nothing.

—--

After a couple of hours worth of drinking, more dances with Bowser, and more mingling with all the other socialites was making you tired. And Bowser took notice almost immediately. So, he took you to your sister, who was dancing with Daisy and Rosalina. You blink away your tiredness while speaking with your sister, insisting that you were fine and that you wanted to stay longer, but with one quick scan of your state she knew that you were done for the night.

All whilst Peach is occupied with you, Daisy and Rosalina gives Bowser a questionable look. Basically shouting, "What's your intentions with the Princess." He swallows harshly at her glare, but than smirked down at them. Basically saying exactly what he wants to do to you. Daisy and Rosalina give him a disguised look before turning her attention back to you. And before they could warn Peach about Bowser taking you home she already speaks, "Could you ever be so polite and take my sister home Bowser please." She asks in a somewhat discomfort tone. But she still asks because how she saw how happy you were with him, how'd you cling to his body while dancing.

He hum, "Of course Peach, I'll take extra care of the Princess." He smiles at your sister before looking down at you. At this point your sleepiness was disappearing at the thought of Bowser taking you home. Yet you still groan out frustrated because you still wanted to party. "And don't even think about kidnapping her." She teased and poked his arm in a playful tone. She looks back at you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, soon said your goodbyes to some of the following guests and went on your way with Bowser.

The limo is waiting by the doors and thankfully the photographers have left for the night, Bowser thanked that no one could see him in this state. With you hung to his side as your sleepiness was taking over your body. "Come on sleepyhead, let's get ya' home and in some pajamas." He opens the door for you to enter first and you give him a certain look as he refers you as "sleepyhead".

He steps in the car to see you with your arms crossed in defense. He was about to question what the hell was the sour face for, but you answered. "I'm not even that tired." You lie through your teeth. And Bowser wasn't going to argue with you in this state. But without a response you took even more offence. "I told you I wasn't even tired." You huff and puff.

Bowser watched you try to defend your argument but it was so easy to see you as anything but argumentative. How cute you looked defeated, once again looked like a grumpy bunny.

"Stop being a brat Princess, we're going home." He tells you, rising his voice slightly more and with that you felt as to quip back at him. "You're being mean." You face away from him and drop your shoulders, all you wanted was go back to the party and enjoy your first time at the ball and now everyone was telling you to go home. Even if you were tired, you could careless, all you wanted was to dance with Bowser till the night turned to morning. You didn't want the night to come to an end so early. "Oh I'm being mean sure." He rolls his eyes at your response, he knew you weren't normally like this and it must have been your tiredness for this attitude.

You whip your head back towards him and scoot closer to him. "You are just a mean old man." This must've struck some sort of cord with Bowser. His eyebrows furrow low and his voice dropping down an octave or two. Which makes you feel hot hearing his voice like this. "Shut up Princess." He bites down his jaw while looking in your eyes. There was a slight flame that began to grow, replacing your sleepiness with lust. He must be delusional himself, there was no way it was that easy to make you get turned on. "Make me." You faux mock him, inching your face closer with him and you didn't expect what he would say next and follow up with. "Oh I will." He smirks.

His hand reaches to your face and pulls you so close that your lips are practically touching, yet he doesn't initiate a kiss. It was you that pulled him to a kiss by grabbing on his coat. Your small hand prying on his collar. His smirk still remains while developing the kiss, it was tender at first. Careful and questioning if this was right but you never pulled away or denied, rather you were the one to push further in the kiss. Bowser's other hand reached for your back. Pressing your body on top of his.

Thankfully there was a divider from the driver and the passengers.

And both were extra thankful because the kiss began to get more intense then original thought. Your body squirmed in his hold as you kiss him, he peeks his eyes open to witness this. Your eyes a shut close tight. Your hands wonder around him, like you didn't know were they had to be, there was no doubt in his mind this was the first time you made out with someone. And he was glad it was him to show you the ropes of it all. Your cheeks are still flushed with blush, and then there it was. That squeak of a moan. As if you tried your damn hardest to try not to make a sound.

With your little moan Bowser grabbed you tighter and lifted you from your seat to place you on his lap. A more comfortable seat in your opinion, along with Bowser's. You break off the kiss for a couple of seconds to giggle at his actions but he pulled you back to the kiss. Once again you moan in his mouth, you felt so embarrassed. Like he thought this was going to be a turn off, though it was quite the opposite. Your small sounds going straight to his growing boner underneath his pants, which he hoped you haven't felt yet.

The next time you moan Bowser groans and takes a deep breath, taking in your scent and slightly moving his hips to fix his position. By his movement he slightly grinded you and having friction while being light headed for making out made you whine out loud. At this Bowser pulls back to take a look at you, your lips puffed out a slight swollen from the kiss. Your eyes are half-lidded. "Look at this little noisy bunny you are." His finger hooks your chin to force you to stare at him. Again you squirm at his actions which he found humoris.

He was about to speak again but the car gently stopped presumably at the castle.

Bowser's face drops in defeat and you couldn't leave him high and dry. "Come in please, I don't want to be alone." You softly beg for him, even hearing your words leave your lips you knew it sounded despite but there was no denying the fact that you had aroused from all the making out. "Only because you said please." He teases and opens the door for you.

There was no time for pleasantries as the front door closed, Bowser took you in his arms and made his way to your bedroom. You almost question at how he knows where to go but his lips on yours shut you up before you could even think to ask.

As he opens the door you're still latched onto his broad shoulders. He adored how you clung in him like plastic wrap.

Though he loved the feeling on you wrapped around him, he did not want to crush you into the bed, well not quite yet. He breaks off the kiss her again, this time your frustration is event with the sound that leaves your throat. "Shh Princess, I'm just laying you down." He almost groans at your annoyance but with that slight fucked out face with barely even touch you was making him feral. He couldn't even get slightly angry with you. Your body sprawled out beneath him on your plush covered bed. Your dress already getting tossed halfway off your body, the way your legs twist together creating friction.

His sharp nails reach down to fiddle with the fabric of your dress, you almost thought he would just rip it off of your body, which you wouldn't truly mind. Your body was getting hotter by the seconds. But Bowser took his sweet time deliberately with cherishing this very point in time.

Your body decided in itself that it was done with feathered touches. And with little to no control, your hips bucked to meet with his hips. You didn't know exactly why your body was making you do this but the need and ache for friction was demanding. The slightly touch of his pelvic meeting yours made you whine out for more.

You were on the edge of begging for him to touch you, but then he swiftly took your dress off of your body. Throwing it to the side to be forgotten and abandoned. Along with yours he followed with taking his shirt and jacket combo along with that stupid bowtie.

He was about to climb over you, but your eyes shifted towards his lower half, his pants were still on. You send him a look, knowing that it was unfair that you were just in your underwear and he wasn't. He quickly took off his belt which clashed to the floor and his pants shortly after.

This time he actually climbed into your bed, the mattress sinking below his added weight. He instantly thought of breaking your bed, a physical reminder. That classic smirk spraying on his lips as he went for another kiss. And yet again your hands reach out for him, grabbing at whatever your fingers could clench into. Your nails slight digging into his skin, but doing absolutely no damage.

It became hot very quickly and your body, almost in auto drive was thrusting up at his to get some friction on your aching body. And once it makes contact with him your eyes roll back. It was so simple yet so pleasurable for you. You wanted to do this for ages and you knew you'd never be bored of it, especially when it was with Bowser. He barely even grinded back and you were moaning in his mouth all over again. He wonders if you'd even ever masturbated before from your reactions.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" He questioned, you hum out a response yet you were still out of focus and Bowser saw that. After all that making out and bump and grind clearly got through to you. He found it adorable how easily you were made stupid by his touch. "Have you ever touched yourself sweetheart?" This time around he was more assertive and the nickname took you to his presence. "Um, could you be more specific?" You glance away from his stare as you were embarrassed by his question and even your response. "More specific?" He quietly repeats in disbelief, what did you even mean by that? "Have you fingered yourself?" He asks in a somewhat obvious tone, you shake your head in a nervous way.

This made Bowser's heart skip a beat, what do you mean you've never touched yourself? It was wrong to think this way, he thought, but being your first everything made him even harder than before. "I've only done stuff over my panties." You mustered enough courage to tell him, an audible groan escape passed his throat at the images of your small hands circling your clit over your panties. It made him even hotter that you were that innocent that you couldn't even do physical contact with your own body for pleasure.

He chastity kisses you again, "How'd I'd get lucky." He whispers more to himself rather than you but it still makes you flustered.

"Now it was time to actually rip off your clothes, starting with that annoying bra of yours which keep those pretty tits behind em'." Bowser explains and without fail you hear a rip of the fabric. He waved the bra in his hand before tossing it. And on cue his eyes shift down to your boobs, they were perked and nipples hard. You slightly hiss when they hit the cold air of your room, even though you felt on fire. "Even better than I'd imagine." He almost growls and you audibly moan loud at his comment. Something happened to you when you mentally pictured him think about you in this way, you clamp your thighs together.

He ignored your moan and went straight to laying soft and tender kisses on your breast. He knew this was your first time so you would be overwhelmed with all this pleasure so he took mercy on you and your body, even if the thought of overstimulating you was present in his mind. Just imagine your squirm and begging him to slow down while fucking you, watching as tears stream down your cheeks.

Though it was hard to push those thoughts he was gentle. And his prediction was right, you were over sensitive with simple kisses and suckling on your breast. Your hands flying to his head to either push him deeper into your skin or push his away. But it wasn't long enough until Bowser's lips racked down your soft body and torso. Down to the place he knew you needed the most attention. His finger tips could already feel the small patch of dampness in the center and could tell by the way your hips bucked and begged for him.

You shut your eyes in anticipation. Despite your eyes being closed Bowser watches each and miniscule reaction. Watching as your eyebrows curl and your lips separate, or biting your cheek to muffle your needy noises.

His nails pull on your panties and down your legs, his eyes fixated on your expression. But he knew he couldn't stare at you forever with your exposed pussy in full display for him, almost like a present wrapped with a bow and he was ready to tear it open. And if he didn't want to devour you before, now he definitely was without a doubt.

Once his eyes landed on your center he truly saw how turned on you actually were. Virgin's, they're so easily wet. You slightly glisten in the light, he could tell you were aching, poor thing. But thankfully he was here to help you out.

A long stripped lick made you shot open your eyes down at Bowser. You choked on a moan as he went for another stripe. Your breath already starting to become laboured. "Baby, relax." He simply states, but they vibrations from his voice made you slam your head back down on your pillow. With that he chuckled and went back to licking your cunt. His tongue flickering at your clit at every stripe and you knew you wouldn't last long.

Your hands grip at his hair to bury his head further in your cunt. Your mouth is constantly open with spilling of moans and other obscenities, in any other occasion you'd be embarrassed but you were distracted with pleasure. You even moan out his name, slurring it with profanity. And he loved how whiney and high pitched you were getting and how that laced with his name.

Now you were thrusting your hips towards his mouth, your thighs starting to shut around his head. Your babbling starting to become incomprehensible. A warm tingling thriving through the pit of your stomach, reach up through your body. You didn't know exactly what this meant but it felt so good and you knew you didn't want Bowser to stop anytime soon. And he apparently understood that too.

He could feel your cunt start to squeeze nothing other than the couple of time his tongue ran through it, making you moan a little louder each time.

You rub your thighs against his face, "Bowser - Bowser - Bowser…" You whine while you body continues thrusting, it was all becoming so difficult to sense anything but pleasure. "Shh, Shh. I know bunny, you're alright." He's barely audible in your ears and the vibration of his voice bring that heat to an all time high. And a final lick of your clit made you unravel.

He helped you along your way down your high. Your legs shaked and your hands griped rough in his hair all while you groan, drawing out your moans while screwing your eyes closed. It was the most pleasure you've ever felt in your entire life. In your head your mind was repeatedly thanking Bowser for this impressive pleasure he caused you, but your mouth felt like cotton. Horse and dumb even. No words escaped passed your lips as you try.

Bowser found this even more comical then they way you were chanting his name over and over again.

But as your consciousness returns to you, you knew he wasn't done with you and strangely you weren't ready to give out just yet.

He smirks while you finally make eye contact with him, "Thank you." Soft spoken words of gratitude towards the Koopa King. This took Bowser slightly by surprise as no one has ever said thanks for giving them an organism, by your innocentance it made perfect sense. It was adorable even.

You were about to say that you wanted more but he must have read your mind because he lifted himself up again and pulled down his boxer. Setting free his cock, the top swollen and red. Pre-cum pebbling out and leaking down his shaft. Saying he was big was an understatement, you couldn't possibly think he'd in actuality fit inside of you. And once again he must of read your mind, "Oh I'm going to make it fit Princess." He laughs at your expression.

He pumped himself at the sight of you, in your dazed state and the slight plead behind your eyes for him. How you made his heart melt into pudding, he wouldn't say it out loud, but he'd do literally anything for you without a second thought. And he secretly hates that about you.

He's already groaning at the thought of your tight cunt wrapped deliciously around him and he couldn't wait any longer.

He lines himself at your entrenching and waiting hole. You stare up at him, Bowser's face so concentrated. Wth what exactly, you didn't know nor care, all you cared for was him actually fucking you. You wanted this man to take you to places you've never experienced and you knew he could make you feel things you'll never feel again. You were about to whine out for him to make a move, but he provided exactly what you needed.

You choked on the moan that threatened to slip past your lips. The intense pain of just his tip made tears prick on your eyes. You shut your eyes once again, trying to ground yourself and muster up some strength.

Meanwhile, he's slowly pushing himself further in your tight cunt. It was better than anything he's felt in his entire life. And if it felt like this everytime you'd have sex, he wasn't going to allow you to be with anyone but him. He watches as your small hands grip on the bedding and crunch roughly. He knew this had to be painful for you and he knew he had to take his time with you. But you were making it so much more difficult with the mewls you're making and the huffing and puffing.

It was painful, yes, but there was this dull sense of that same pleasure when he was eating you. That unfamiliar warmth that felt like a fire beginning to build. Bowser felt that as you squeezed his cock.

All of this made you think of the dream you had this morning, everything coming back to you like a boomerang. And the mental image of his hand around your throat to choke you came back and thinking of it made you gush. At this point in time your dignity was thrown out the window, there was no point to try to achieve it back. "Please-please put your hand around my throat." This statement itself completely went to Bowser's dick, slowly pushing deeper in your cunt. "Awe look how cute that is, asking so politely with your pleases." He faux mocks. Causing you to whine in anticipation. "And here I thought you were all so innocent." He laughed this time, embarrassment for your request was evident with the shades of reds on your cheeks and how you faced away from him. But he wasn't done with these teasing.

His head dipping close to your ear, all while his hand was ghosting your neck. "Was this what you dreamt about this morning? Me choking you while I fucked you?" Your eyes widen and air cut short. He saw you this morning having that sex dream?

How mortified you felt was an understatement, yet he actually laughed out loud at the look of shock you gave him. His deep and sultry voice looms over your frame, over your mind. His voice whispers sweet nothing in your ear. This was exactly what you've dreamt of, there was no possible way this wasn't another dream.

Your hands let go of your sheets and reach upwards to Bowser's large arm, the same arm that had his hand around your throat. His hand tightens around your throat to cut off a slight bit of oxygen, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. And that heat was about to burst at any moment by this action. Bowser saw that you were about to come again and chuckled at how easy you were. It was almost too easy to have his way with you.

Your legs begin to shake and your moans are messy with his name. Your fingers gripping so harshly on his arm that it almost hurt. Your breathing is heavy once again and it is all becoming so much more intense as before. Tears slowly start shedding down your puffy redden cheeks, you could barely comprehend that you were crying from the pleasure. But Bowser found this laughable, "That's it bunny, cry for me." He snickers while lowering his body closer to yours. His face inches above yours and at his present you crack open your eyes. Only to meet with his tongue lapping up your salty tears.

You sob at the high that seemed to hit you like a superstar. Chanting out his name with sin. Tears spilling down all while your body thrusts in his grip, your vision becoming blurred. Maybe it was the combination of lack of oxygen and a mind blowing orgasm, you felt on the brink of passing out. Bowser quickly understood and let go on his grip on your throat. You quickly gasp for air. "Come back to me Princess, can't have you pass out just yet. I'm almost done, you can hold on for a couple of more minutes bunny." He speaks but you hardly understand his words.

In this condition of being fucked out and the overstimulation beginning to shock you was making Bowser reach his high. The way your cunt locked in a squeeze around his cock was enough for him to curse. You were going to be the death of him and he knew that all too well. You couldn't think of anything but Bowser, you mind erased and dumb. Your words are being barely comprehensible, mixed with your whining moans and tears. And Bowser found that absolutely captivating.

It was only a couple more thrust before he gained his high and swiftly pulled out of your aching cunt.

His cum spewing out on your soft stomach, painting a white coat that filled your torso. He grunts and groans, your name laced in as well. Having this sight before you is better than any dream your brain could have made up with your imagination. Yet you still were so tired and on the verge of falling asleep.

You barely felt the shift of his weight as he collapsed beside you. You hum in contempt and scoot closer to his body. A smile forming on his lips, of course you'd be the type of person to cuddle after sex. Your small frame getting taken overpowered by sleep. And before you could fall asleep, Bowser lifted your comforter and wrapped both of you. Your body completely relaxes by his tenderness and you drift off to sleep.

It was only a couple minutes after you falling asleep when he heard the opening of the front door to the castle. The muffled voice of Peach ringing out, "We're back! You better be in your pajamas when I come up there." She yells out unsuspecting and Bowser thought for a moment to run out but glancing down to see your head pressed up to his chest in comfortable sleep, he couldn't dare leave you. Especially because he just took your virginity, you didn't deserve to wake up alone. Along with the image of Peach's face would be undoubtedly hilarious with seeing her little sister with him.

But who was this "we" she was talking about?

[gutterfuuck]

thank you for writing sinister mark x reader omg it's so good 🤭 if you're taking reqs, the pic you posted of the alternate mark got me thinking about some throne smut with him or even sinister mark 😩

YES YES YES YES!!! i am actually reading on invincible now, the comic so i will be flooding my blog soon enough

sinister!mark x reader

cw: no plot just smut really, facefucking, threats, face slapping, slight breathplay, dirty talk, short drable, i might extend on this!!!

you couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t breathe around his thick cock. especially not with how he held your head down, trapping you there, forcing you swallow around his dick. he sat with his legs wide, your upper arms trapped between the backs of his calves and the wooden base of his large chair, your bare chest pressed right against it. “hey- you’re not doing it properly.” he tutted, shaking his head when he noticed that you had started choking around him, trying to pull your head back to get some air.

mark pulled your hair all the way back, yanking your head off of his length, watching with enjoyment when you gasped and spluttered, chasing air so you could breathe again. “put your mouth back on it. you’re lucky i even let you breathe, be grateful.” he said darkly, tapping his tip against your spit-slicked lips, groaning when he slid past them and settled back into your warm mouth. he was a little gentler this time, heavy hand pushing your head back down just a little lighter. you hummed around him, blinking tears out of your eyes and before you could fully relax your throat, he lifted his leg up and rested it on the back of your neck, trapping your head in between his legs, thrusting his hips forwards, carelessly fucking gags out of your throat. “that’s right… stop being so dumb and breathe out your nose, before i break it for you.” you whimpered at his words, tears staining your face.

you couldn’t think, your fingernails digging into the seat of mark’s chair - no, makeshift throne of some kind - eyes wide as you failed to catch your breath. mark let go again, “i said stop being so fucking dumb, did you even hear me?” you slid your mouth off of his dick again, webs of spit keeping you attached to his cock, he licked his lips at the sight of you. tear stained face, chest heaving up and down, nostrils flaring. mark spat at you, thick glob of his saliva landing right under your eye, getting up out of his chair and pulling you up by your hair so that you were both standing. slap, slap, slap. light slaps against your cheek, mark’s face dark in disappointment. “still with me? did that scare you?” he whispered, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. you nodded, sobbing out lightly, leaning into his touch. “oh, my sweet baby…” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your forehead-

SLAP!

you were backhanded, right in your face. you could only stare in shock for a second before you let out a quiet pained “ah-“, your eyes watering up in shock. you hardly had enough time to recover before he slapped you again, this time with his palm and on your other cheek. “now you really have a reason to be scared.” he leaned in, licking the tears from your face, humming as if he had just tasted something sweet.

“now stop crying before i give you something to cry for- i said stop it. that’s it, calm down. breathe, princess. that’s a good wife, i know you aren’t ready for me to use your ass yet so calm down. you and i both know that you don’t want to cry for real, right? good girl.”