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xvysarene · 2 months

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𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”

Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.

“The deal is off.”

You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”

On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.

“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”

Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”

How dare he!

It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.

And he knew this.

“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”

He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.

Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.

“You don’t understand—”

“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.

“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.

The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.

Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”

“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”

That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed.

“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”

Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.

“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”

Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.

Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.

As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.

Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.

But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.

“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”

The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.

Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.

“Sylus—”

“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.

“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.

Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.

Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”

Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”

Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.

The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.

Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”

And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.

“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.

What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.

It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.

Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.

“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”

The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.

“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.

“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”

During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”

A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.

You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”

She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.

The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest.

As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”

“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.

Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.

With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.

Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.

The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”

Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?”

Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.

“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”

He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”

In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”

The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”

Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.

The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.

You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.

Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.

Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.

“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.

“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”

The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”

As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.

Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.

You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”

His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”

“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”

That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.

While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.

You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.

“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”

Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”

As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.

Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?

Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.

It was stupid to feel this way.

Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard.

“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”

Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.

“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”

You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”

Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?

“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”

Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”

Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.

“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”

This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.

Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.

Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.

“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.

He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”

“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”

You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”

Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.

“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”

“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”

“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.

He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.

Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.

It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.

No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.

As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.

A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.

It was more personal—more intimate.

“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”

Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.”

Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.

“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.

A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”

His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.

“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”

As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.

The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.

“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.

In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.

Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #hurt/comfort #fluff

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eilidh-eternal · 8 months

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Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there��s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin.

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.”

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?”

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core.

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries.

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.”

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor.

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?”

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.”

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?”

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink.

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?”

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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kooyabooya · 3 months

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SUITS, (STOCKINGS), & TIES

m reader x minju // 9k words

For the record, there aren’t any fingerprints seen underwater. Nothing to tie one to a crime. The trial itself is already a rapid current, pulling you and everyone around the bullpen into the endless sea of papers, payment record documents, video recording transcripts, then more fucking papers, and you absolutely hate it.

Files boxed in dating back to even before taking the damn job, the amount of trips to and from the copying machine, getting the materials right. Avoiding any fuck ups; that too, was always the end goal - staring at the blue folder sitting on your desk until–

Your fucking intercom’s ringing again.

It’s always a trip, that’s how it usually flows around here: a turn to the left, round the front desk of the floor, hook right down the insanely long walkway, glass windows giving you this nice view of the city skyline. Pretty, at around one in the morning of another late night of work stacked upon your desk.

Easy enough to also: take a moment to admire the view, since it’s the kind of view that you’d never get over no matter how many times you look at it. You sigh at the playback in your head, something that Chaeyeon talked to you about while hiding away from the pressures of work in her own office, bumping coffee mugs and wishing that the building had sliding windows to let the high breeze through.

They would never allow that. You tell her, keeping the vibe lighthearted with a laugh. I mean seriously, even if we did, it’s all fun and games until someone in one of the conference rooms below us sees a body hurling down towards the ground at a hundred miles per hour. Chaeyeon complains that the air conditioning doesn’t even reach her office sometimes, and tells you that she’s jealous, wanting to switch places with you since the sun hits her back during the work hours.

Sweeping past her office, since she’s gone for the day, the carpet gets pressed down by your loafers, tilting your head to see that the office at the very end of the walkway has the lights on, and you do notice the gap where the door should be; meaning that it’s open or someone stepped inside.

This was the end point of this overbearing yet brief journey. The office that was considered to be base camp, the command center, the brains, one would say. One of the firm’s most well known figures with how she leans back into her chair with a leg across the other, showing that she means business, and knows how to look good while doing it.

Prior, you loop around the pane entering the room-

“You’re saying that I should sit back and do nothing?” Minju asks, finger tapping the peak of her nose, clearly pressed.

“I’m not telling you to,” the woman standing across her with a left hand fastened to the hip with a lean to her right side, “We’re backed into a corner and all I’m saying is that we have to draw back and take this at a new angle.”

“But you said that last time! And look where it’s got us.” Minju shoots back, both feet on the floor now, drawing herself closer to make a point. You’re trying to not make your presence known, seeing where this exchange is headed, fighting the urge to not butt in and make a fool of yourself. “Cutting a deal with the very same person that is trying to come back and rip everything from us was all part of your plan?”

“Minju, I know you’re angry but–”

Minju slaps her hand down on the desk, “We’ve got them right where we wanted, pulled all the stops, and now you want to just back off?”

“I’m not backing off, I’ve managed to buy us more time.” the woman says, pressing on the rim of her glasses, sighing when Minju doesn’t even bother to look back at her in the eye, flipping through a packet with a pen in her hand to check and see if there was anything that was usable to help the situation. You’ve seen the packet on her desk earlier that way, ran that by Hyewon, her secretary, and now she’s finally looking at it.

“Two days. That’s all I got until we fall back with the judge.” she says to Minju, “Unless you have something for me on my desk later today, I’m officially and unofficially grounding you.”

“Dahyun-”

“Zip it.” Dahyun says, mimicking a pulling motion with her right hand to her lip, “You’re already stretched thin as it is, this case is already taking a toll on all of us and this would be the last thing I need on my mind.”

A tap to the glass on the entryway, “Is this a bad time?”

The two women look at you in suspicion, both of them not even realizing that the door was open the entire time, listening to the conversation, “How long have you been standing there?” Dahyun asks, pointing at you while you’re leaned against the glass, foot pointed to the floor all relaxed and everything.

“I’ve been here long enough, but a little over five minutes.” you answer, blue folder in hand. “Didn’t want to interrupt the usual bickering on a casual Thursday evening.” you also add, stepping inside Minju’s office where it opens up.

The great Kim Minju, one of the firm’s best lawyers, and Dahyun’s right hand woman, one of the key people sitting at the high table; also your handler of these different cases and adventures that she usually sends you to do or help her with. Her office was classy, a row shelves off to the right side filled with an assortment of vinyls and picture frames of the people that she holds most dear to her heart. A record player was next to this trolley that had a kettle and a bowl of candies (though she doesn’t like to admit that she’s got a sweet tooth); there’s also her violet couch in velvet that you’ve also passed out on multiple times, drunk on the sweet scent that you still have to figure out which one she uses for that.

“This is the last file for the case I managed to scrounge and put together.” you tell Minju, sliding it over across while her inky eyes dart at you, prompting a questioning eyebrow out of both of you while Dahyun’s gaze falls on top. “Everything in terms of deals within the last year from our target man should be all in there. Though, we had a minor hiccup earlier this week with–”

“Don’t remind me,” Minju vexes, “That was my screwup with the family and now I’m paying for it.”

“After I told you not to jump the gun.” Dahyun jumps in, hand on the corner of the granite. She sounds annoyed; after all, she was technically the ‘fall guy’ in all of this with her hiccup also in mishandling the exchanged information, not her fuck up though, since she was set up from the beginning after a hidden clause she signed a long time ago. She also swoops in to grab the file, opening it to skim through the papers, slightly nodding at what she could read for a few seconds. “Impressive,” Dahyun nods, “this is good leverage.”

“Thank you,” you say, smirking while Dahyun hands you back the file for Minju to look at, pulling it out of your fingers to flip through. “Had some help from Hyewon, but didn’t want to take all of the credit.”

“Well I appreciate you both.” Dahyun adds, “I had my doubts when I got the call to come back and see what all the fuss was about. Now, I can breathe a little more easily knowing that we have this in the bag, I hope.”

“I’m still here, you know.” Minju huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Hush,” Dahyun scrunches funnily, taps your shoulder, causing you to shrug nonchalantly, “Thank you for hanging back to help me take care of this while I’ve been dealing with my moving situation. God, it's been a back breaker for me.”

“How’d that go?”

“We finally settled in, I had a small housewarming party about a few weeks ago or so, but I’ve been keeping in touch with–”

“You said that your friend Sana was living in the area too, right? From college?” Minju suddenly asks, pen flat on the paper and fully invested in the life update. Dahyun nods to this while you’re pursing your lips at the news. You’re not one to lend an ear to these things, but you just can’t help yourself when they’re being talked about in the open. Talk about separating privacy and professionalism.

“Yeah, it’s been good to see her, if it wasn’t for this fucking cas–”

“Dahyun, it’s fine. We got it.” you tell her, slowly nodding to ease the stress, “You’re already doing so much by coming back from leave to deal this along with us. It shows that you do care about this firm and the reputation that it has.”

“Look at you being a kiss ass.” Minju deadpans. You pay no attention to that.

“And not taking this ordeal would've put the firm into crisis mode having the last thing I’d want to happen.” Dahyun scoffs, “Besides, the value is way more than that once all of this is over.” She starts to make her way out of Minju’s office, turning around to face both of you with eye contact, “I assume that you two will close up shop when you’re done?”

“Don’t even need to remind us.” you tell her, Minju looks up with a soft smile across her face, lightly waving at Dahyun before she gives you two a quick goodbye, leaving shortly after. “She seemed a little more dismissive than usual, like she wanted to give us alone time don’t you think?”

“I can’t stand her nosy ass sometimes, trying to veer the way how I want to do things.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m serious,” Minju shoots back, flipping through the packet, not giving an ounce of care through all of the blacked lines or different clauses in the suggested proposal that would settle this whole case. “I love Dahyun - I mean - she has the spare set of keys to my damn apartment since she moved away, that’s how much she means to me.”

“Didn’t think you’d be sappy over your boss, especially after the shit show that we’d–”

“One more word out of your smart mouth and I’ll stop looking through your documents to stall time.”

“You already signed it, though.” you say, pouting with a frown, “Which also means that this should all officially end by tomorrow.”

Minju sweeps through the row of open and unopened files spread across her desk, eyes canvassing between the texts and dried ink of signatures, vying for some sort of leverage that would go against Dahyun’s wishes. It’s natural for her to be extremely nitpicky - highlighted with a small curtain of hair falling in front of her forehead, pulling the side of her index finger back while her pretty eyelashes flutter about. She’s refined and very sophisticated, the kind that makes you stop in your tracks one day when she waltzes in the office on her own time, and not that she’s thirty minutes late in the morning.

Throw the law degree away bucko, maybe that avenue of studying art and architecture would’ve been the better option considering how much you’ve been staring for the past five minutes.

To fill in, here’s the brief rundown of the position.

A lot of people would’ve killed to be Minju’s associate. I mean, the woman seeps in ‘getting what she wants’. You could consider yourself lucky, but Minju already had eyes on you from the first second you stepped into her office for the interview. The interview itself wasn’t all that glamorous: renting one of your best friend’s designer suits that would’ve been more usable for a fucking award show spritzed with a cologne that was way out of your league in terms of scent let alone price, a typo on the fucking resume that she looks with an eyebrow for an explanation, and a lasting impression that whatever happens would deem only to be the best going forward.

Minju wanted someone who excelled both in book and street smarts, be able to get a grasp on the situation faster within the first few seconds of receiving the case or news, and most importantly, to steer Minju’s level of thinking where even the most irrational decisions would be reasonable.

You hit all the marks, and qualified to be associate. End of story.

“Everything that we all have here is solid substantial evidence,” Minju cuts in with a paper flipped back to the top of the page, pen flat on her fingers as if she’s fed up with playing reviewing proctor, “Nothing would change with what we already have on the case.”

“But the conclusion would be different,” you reply, sitting opposite to her, respectfully doing nothing but twiddling a pen between your fingers, considering that you were pretty much done with your bout in the file room earlier today, finding the last bits of documents from the archives that would help into comprising the settlement. “After all, it’ll be you and Dahyun in that conference room tomorrow closing the deal. I’m just passing papers.”

“I suppose that you’re afraid of taking credit where it counts. Because why put in much effort for this case especially when someone else could’ve handled it when I asked?”

“Dahyun insisted on coming back to oversee this. Had it been anyone else, the firm would’ve been up in flames if it wasn’t for her quick thinking pulling up the memos and signing payments from all those years ago.”

Minju closes your blue folder, sliding it off to the side, flipping open her laptop without a flinch before typing away. “You know,” she starts, giving you this quick gaze that has you nicking your head a few millimeters, catching the pen in between your fingers to highlight that she has your attention, “I could’ve done this myself with Hyewon’s help, give you at least some days off after working you down the bone.”

“Now why would you do that?” you ask, four fingertips on the back of Minju’s laptop, closing it slowly while you’re rounding the fine corner of her obsidian desk, thumb wrapping underneath when her chair meets square with your hips. “That’s not very work-efficient for you to do that to me now, is it?”

“You want to lecture me on how I should make you operate?”

“She knows about us…by the way.” you tell Minju straightforward, smirking when you see that high arch of her brow, grimacing at the faulty accusation that she already knows by way of presentation. Doesn’t take long also for the different neurons firing in her brain that’s filled to the brim by the way of the law - only for that to be completely flattened out in one of those lobes replaced with various details of what you’re talking about.

“What are you talking about?” Minju asks, tilting her head upward that makes the sight of the high ground utterly so familiar.

“Dahyun can easily tell that we have something going on,” you remind her, “She can easily read the both of us like a children’s book and–”

“Bullshit,” her face crinkling with a tone more deaf the the simple drone of a dead phone line, “You know damn well that there’s nothing happening between us, so stop with the conviction.”

“I’m not saying that you’re being convicted of my point,” you start, pushing her chair away to leave you space when you’re leaning over, seeing her back hit the cushion of the chair where she wiggles more comfortably with both hands on the armrests, “if anything, you’re just simply denying that there was ever really a thing between you and I.”

“And that should be the end of that, no?” Minju coos, tipping her head a little bit higher, “Can you concur that there is nothing happening between us, especially in the workplace?”

Minju is a professional, on par with the same archetypes like Dahyun. She’s witty, calculated, knows a lot more things from her experience compared to you, and blowhards herself way too much for anyone’s own liking. Every argument with her always starts with her leading the charge, to make you feel smaller right off the bat so that you’d have no way to counter unless your point seems fit to her points of focus.

Okay, it may not be every verbal exchange with her on a day to day basis, considering that it’s also filled with witty banter and small inside jokes that could totally fall within the implications of the term ‘flirting’, but nothing ever really escalated from that.

You also stuck your ears in between conversations during various corporate events and coworker mixers. Hell, even the pool of associates away from the main quarters of partners and senior partners all gave you the necessary praise for the chemistry that you’ve developed with Minju. Some days she wants to have your head on a platter, other days the talks were good, and you two managed to get things done around the office.

Except for one day, and the details are still a bit murky for you to put up in recording: another workday in the office, maybe a little slow for Wednesday transition from morning to an afternoon - but a free flowing circulation of phone calls, fax reports, conference appointments with clients, and a running order of Hyewon’s go-to latte from the coffee shop on the first floor.

Bouncing back and forth between Dahyun’s office and Yuri’s, you make a quick detour towards Minju’s office who happened to slot herself on the left side of you while matching your walking pace. Expecting a quick quip from her like any other morning, you were waiting for it, but she hits you with the ‘file room, now.’ order that has you in-tow right behind her on the way there.

Though your mind was already in overtime mode with the workload that was dropped to your desk roughly about two hours since arriving, it had already been nonstop and maybe Minju’s time could be quick if it was related to saving the firm from being purged by pulling some old papers in the filing room. Somewhere along those lines, your mind gets blanked out from the cramped space of the metal shelves, those dusty boxes, compounded by dim lighting in the room already.

What you do remember:

The small little gasps and hums when you’re sucking along the line of Minju’s neck, gripping the fistfuls of her dress and sliding your hand along her thighs.

(So much for keeping it professional with the woman who’s also technically your primary boss.)

“How do you want to go about this?” you ask, “Do you want me to persuade you into telling Dahyun that we need a little more time?”

Minju hums, pensively, as the question itself is rather a tempting decision that’s also actionable at best. You could see the small lump from the inside of her cheek before she shifts it across her upper lip to the other side, twisting her chair forward to place both elbows on the desk with fingers intertwined like she’s praying for the Lord’s insight from above. “We’ve been on the nose with this thing for too long now, I think it’s about time to cut our losses before things get ugly.”

You don’t say anything, leaning yourself onto the obsidian while your arms bridge themselves together, flexing the wool in the threads when she makes eye contact with you, flicking her eyes back onto the paper where there’s a few blank lines that still need to be written in ink.

With a simple lift of her signature ballpoint pen by you, she takes it, twirling it around like you were doing a few minutes ago to imply that your point finally got through to her, fingers grazing along the fine paper to fill in the gaps.

But the vantage point where your ass is pressed against the edge is proving to be some sense of uncomfortability, so you change course, from left to right, vacant chair adjacent to the desk in your hands in a fraction of a second, scooching closely while Minju scoffs at the prying during the task, “Didn’t think it’d be that easy for you to be cooperative with the demands.”

“Stop,” and Minju sings this with the better facade of her naivete, “Unlike you, I’m willing to actually listen to what's being asked from the first try, and not have it repeated to me through different remarks.”

You get too close, too soon, when the ends of her hair brushes against the front corner of your lips and cheek, she could hear the air close at the bottom of your throat when the tip of your nose barely grazes her cheekbone. A moment like this occurred before, you could say it’s in the sense of deja vu: Minju invites you out for some quality time between partner and associate, a few drinks were on the table, and Minju challenges you to a simple game of pool.

Sounds pretty mangable and straightforward, right?

Wrong.

You get shafted by Minju the first game, pull yourself back the next round. There’s this back and forth like usual banter between colleagues, dishing out trash talk for some good ol’ competition. The count of drinks gets lost along with the perception of time, and this happens on impulse when you’re backed into a corner with the eight ball being the last one for Minju while you’re behind on three solids. She rambled about you being always two steps behind and you can’t blame or deny the fact that she’s also way out of your league, so what do you do? Take the pleasantries of hums to your advantage, molding your hips along with hers, calloused hands lightly clinging onto the denim while your chin nestles into her collarbone, saying carelessly with intent of taunting, don’t you think you should call the last shot if you do make it?

Minju nips her lip triumphantly, turning her head, catching on with what you’re incessantly doing, whispering her call: left corner pocket. The attention to the black ball slips out of your mind when she presses your lips onto your cheek, a fatal blow while the space opens up between you again, tipping her head back also lets you know that you lost the best of three series, which also meant that the loser has to pay the bill.

(You pay your dues, but also add the pay up by making your own call: pocketing yourself into Minju’s cunt on her bed later that would only serve all the wiser.)

A flashback in your mind that took minutes, only to be reeled into the real world by merely seconds, “You missed one more claus–”

That gap could be filled after, because this deal on the agenda was more important to deal with.

Minju grabs you by the tie, leveling your head with hers. Your hands are quick to smooth out her skirt from behind, letting the various files and dossiers rest across the desk or on the floor, depending where her hands land for a proper hold. Some lights stay on long after hours, to serve as a subtle ambience that no matter what time it may be, someone’s still hard at work on a case, or waiting for their personal driver on the ground floor. Though, some other cases include a well-spoken conversation, or even just chatting between colleagues - this chat about work with Minju however, was anything but that.

Right off the bat, you’re reminded of how Minju is so easy to break down, despite her having a front that has every possible contingency of shutting herself away from others because she’s not that kind of character to be soft and open, until where your fingers are dancing alongside the slope of her bottoms at the hips, thumb rounding the hard end with a slow pull of her chair to reel closer until you’re at the edge of your seat.

The move itself is so subtle, setting her on the desk in a similar position that you were in while she was signing through the documents with her ass pressed against the desk, scooching back while dancing with her tongue, lips parted with her head tilted. You’ve also managed to get your hands underneath Minju’s perfect thighs, lifting her up to the tabletop, spreading her long limbs much like to that excerpt of Moses parting the Red Sea, dipping your hand underneath to get a feel of her lace.

Minju’s breaths become slightly erratic, nearly short-circuiting the more your fingertips dance along the line of her skirt; inner thighs pressing along the side of your hips while you cater your mouth and fingers in her hair, her neck, the growing heat rising in the skin when she whimpers through your teeth given how cold it was in the room. How your fingertips graze along the slightly damp fabric with one- maybe two tips, you chuckle softly at how she’s very responsive to the touch, the small clutch around your neck and back from her arms to serve as a safeguard.

This is something that you’ll probably take to the District Attorney, let alone have Dahyun in the loop, in the specific case where you find yourself with no other option, a last resort to drown her into the ground:

“Let me ask you this again,” you prompt with another received kiss to the growing swell of your bottom lip, “Are you sure that there’s nothing happening between us? Especially in the workplace?”

Minju gasps out before you shut her up with your lips, channeling the moan when you increase the intensity of swirling around her clit, putting her hips out forward to sate that ache for at least something, anything.

“You’re certain that you can say with full confidence that you have no kind of interest in me, whatsoever, admit to me right now that I’m correct.”

You could tell from the look on her face and the moan she lets out, vocal cords open and freely flowing with the heavy tone while crumbling at the touch, all hot and wet and losing most of the plot at this point before even getting to the real business. It’s really wicked, how this woman as your boss flaunts around the floor, knowing that she won’t let anything get in her way for getting the case done, doing whatever it takes to see it through to the end and even if the methods aren’t within the boundaries.

Like you could handle the boundaries yourself, playing nice isn’t always the way to go.

While your hand hikes up the smooth skin of her thigh, feeling an unfamiliar ridge, a weave, something that hugs her leg that probably deserves to be there, to help with the appearance and everything- maybe not or maybe so, you’ll assess when the moment gets there. She grips around what she could touch in terms of your blazer, hips pushing forward at the flex of muscle when you’re scratching the surface of her clothed cunt, the ripple effect shown in her body as she arches first, then sighs into your collarbone the next.

“Mmn, pretty–” Minju groans out, letting a small hiss through the porcelain cracks of her teeth, “so well, so, so amazing.”

You’ll seek out the wants, the needs, the odds to break even, testing out the very little restraints in patience left while this cold-hearted woman is melting into your touch, giving you the benefit of having free reign over her body, when she’s murmuring these little hums and broken phrases that switches back to yours with more perversion.

“I need an answer from you.” Playing prosecutor against the defense wasn’t always ideal unless it’s a mock trial, but you’re always one to challenge Minju, getting her to see your points on a day to day basis, proving her wrong when you know it’s impossible to. She can see right through you, always letting you take the loss, never accepting a victory that you rightfully deserved. You’ll be good, go to her when you’re in a rut, she expects it to happen, that’s how loyalty works. Though, there’s nothing wrong with being defiant. “Don’t make me ask again.”

It’s all a tease, the way you let the lace dip underneath the slit with the extra press of fingers, toying with the soaking walls and fighting the urge to tug the strings the more you repeat the same fucking routine–

“Baby,” she croons, it’s pathetic. You’re about to get worked up too if you play the waiting game, dragging your thumb across her clit so delicately that she’s quivering, squirming, feeling the tense in her shoulders through the button up, hanging onto your forearm when the hold gets a little too tight. Those breathy gasps get your mind ahead to what’s coming, the natural instinct of what you’ll do to her in her office, on top of her desk, and maybe even on that stupid velvet couch if need be.

You can hear the huffs more clearly down your ear, the rise and fall of her upper body when you coax her for a few seconds; she’s spiraling out of control, a whine gets suppressed with a press of lips to her throat, and she stumbles back on her arm, spreading wider in mirth.

She’s shaking her head, eyes screwed shut, like wincing, the whine too - holy hell - it’s reminding you after that night at the bar with her, a moment coming full circle.

A hand sweeps through her hair, fingers carding, you kiss that sweet spot just underneath her earlobe, a lick from the tip of your tongue to get her more fitful, bring the desperation and sluttiness out of her lips.

“Do you have- “ she’s sputtering out the letters and consonants, intertwined with hitches and moans, “any idea of what you do?” Minju can’t stay composed while the nips at her jaw and neck close the distance between her mouth–

“Haven’t had the slightest.” you whisper, hiking up the last bit of her skirt to see the new piece to untangle, “God, Minju- lacy stockings? Really?”

The laugh she lets out should set you off in annoyance, almost like a border that’s meant to be there and never to be touched - let alone cross, fingers clasped around the nape of your neck to keep you trapped while she smiles to the small victory, “You sound surprised. I always come to work with these pairs from time to time, but you don’t leer when I want you to.”

Her eyes flutter shut once again when you tend to her pulse point, mouth gaping open when you’re doing two things at once: soothing the warmth on her neck while your fingers work teasing her clit and walls, a punishment of sorts when she’s reeling back onto the desk with a slipping hand, her other limp gripping your forearm to not stop - but keep going.

“How long–” Minju asks while she’s practically sliding off of the polished bark, “have you waited to do this…to me?” Strands of hair falling forward ever-so slightly in front of her forehead, hand tangled to the back of your head while your ear is pressing against the hard line of her collarbone. You don’t pay any attention to her subjective inquiry, replacing it with another strand of moans leaving her lips when you skate her ass across the table again, the bottoms of her thighs meeting yours, melting a bit more when her core rubs against the emerging bulge from between your legs.

She knows what she’s doing, it’s a trade off of pushing buttons. Trying to get you to lose all the sensible urges just to give her what she exactly wants.

You let your hands map out the case: her hips, the flat plane of her waist, where the peak of her hips meet at the hint of her obliques, only for your digits to spread out behind on the curve of her ass, feeling the lacy panties that might go against dress code policy because of how too fucking thin they were. Minju grins against your mouth, the exchange of hot air serving to be this addicting oxygen that you can’t get enough of. “Who knows how long I’ve wanted to have a crack at you. I just put myself off to the side because I knew that I’d never stand a chance.”

She laughs, and you hate to admit how much you like it. The image of her being disheveled in front of you, just inches away from the fingertips; legs spread out wide on her own desk, waiting to be ruined.

“What’s going through your head right now?” Minju asks, tossing her arm on the lower section of your waist, seizing you while failing to meet her glazed eyes. “Have you…fantasized about me? Tell me all about it. I’m intrigued. Want to know what gets you off after work.”

And there it goes again: the banter. She’s always quick for a couple liners, sayings and slang that you’ve shared with her day in day out. Minju isn’t the kind of person to greet you with a ‘good morning’ or ‘want to get a quick drink or bite from the cafe downstairs?’ - but rather: right down to the dirty business of what she needs you to do in the long, extensive hours of the workday, dealing with clients, putting up with her and Hyewon’s bullshit, getting the necessary paperworks, and having some random beef with Yena in the break room. Minju is always quick to give you insight on what needs to happen, you also supply your own opinions and takes where Minju does accept some of them (most of the time).

Except for this, when her cropped blazer is barely hanging off the shoulders, skirt hiked up past the peak of her thighs, displaying that wet spot in between her unbelievable legs, pulling you by the tie because she doesn’t have time for you to fucking daydream saying: “C’mon, pretty boy. You’re basically drooling in front of me and we haven’t even got to the fun parts yet–”

She stops short when you lay the rough palm of your hand against her pussy, hushing through the cuff of her ear, grip tightening and muscles tensing in her body as if something snapped within you - which it did for a slight second - before you draw yourself back, finally looking her in the brown ambers of her eyes.

“I had a dream once,” you finally built up the courage to start, “about being here, in your office.” landing a kiss to the corner of her lip to keep yourself focused. On a night just like this, where you’re sitting nicely on top of your desk. Your legs were spread apart like so. Minju coos when she sees you lightly licking your lips. It would’ve been better if you were already out of your clothes, naked for me. Her head dips forward when she feels the languid circles rubbed across her clit, I fucked you right here, on this desk. And then, I ruined that pretty little couch that you love so much apparently.

“God, you’re insane.” She’s acting innocently like she too hasn’t been teasing you out and around the workplace before this.

Insane? It becomes a little bit more deranged where Minju’s jaw drops to the floor when she hears the sinful sound of her lacy panties being ripped away from her hips.

“Oh, I could do a lot more for you right now, and believe me, I will.” You assess the drainage when your finger plunges into her cunt; the sharp inhale she takes in while saying ‘shit’ is only brief when you’re thrown off by her walls tightening around you, her hands working the buckle of your belt and slithering past the pants.

“And how do you suppose you’ll keep your word?” she asks, fingers coiling your cock, the reaction easily readable judging from the loss of breath through your windpipe.

“Consider this as wet work.”

“Wet work?”

This attractive woman who’s posture could rival classy models, with those perfect lips in both sets, the image now being unraveled like an item being auctioned off to the highest bidder: how her legs open enough for you to fill the space, the way her bra sits across her chest once the blazer is finally discarded onto the floor. (She’s pretty now, she’ll be even prettier when you have your way over her, helplessly letting these soft sounds out, coming undone over or underneath, it won’t matter either way, because that’s always the endgame.)

“You’ve got your skirt on still,” you observe, pulling her closer to the edge of the slab, “I don’t know if-”

“Ignoring the double entendre you made?” she gasps, struggling to keep composure when the ends of your fingers, tightening her grip around your cock while the other arm is thrown around your shoulder, “just-please-like that-fuck-oh fuck-”

Minju sort of hides away from the immense pressure in her cunt and her clit, seeing the usual features on her face show a little more crease to them, slacking with her words, lost, feeling every bit of you, huffs of poor syllables and consonants, octaves going up in keys. You’re loving how needy she’s getting.

What’s the matter? You whisper against her chin. You don’t seem too well. Body burning up? Too hot for you to handle? She’s gone too far off to answer, only by huffs and light nods of her head, the flex in her knees, hands across your broad back, working herself around your fingers, groaning when it gets all too much.

The idea of staying at the firm for the night doesn’t seem that bad of an idea to do.

“Fingers, babe,” she whines, rasping in moans at the ends of them, “fingers are too fucking good, want it- so bad-give me a–fuck-”

Her eyes are screwed shut, clinging onto your body desperately while she starts to work the buttons off your shirt; starting in the middle rather than the top or bottom because she can’t think straight. But she diverts her hands instead to the loops on your sides, wiggling you out of your pants more - keeping herself moving while trying to ignore the throbbing that’s happening between her legs.

“Tell me what you need, boss,” you say, a little tinge of sincerity behind the professional title. “Maybe put some solidity to this little affair?”

Minju gives you this glare, scattered ends of her hair covering the little blush that’s all too apparent across her cheeks, failing fantastically the way she lets out this wail when your two fingers fill up her cunt completely, pulling her over the edge of the desk one last time as you mesh your hips right in the underside of her thighs, body leaning back with the arch bending a whole lot deeper, head back while you lean yourself forward that tips over a few trinkets across the desk; some picture frames fall face flat, that one pendulum set you’d always mess around with in the morning briefings nicks around in disarray, and her nameplate kinda just gets hit in the crossfire by Minju’s stray hand and onto the floor.

“Call this,” she sputters, gasping, heaving most likely, “a hot and steamy affair.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you retort, “don’t get smart with me now.”

She just looks at you with that same sly smirk she’s been wearing whenever she teases you about anything. You find it annoying at times because of how effortless she does it, this time her breaking smile doesn’t match up with her eyes and how they are dead, sincere with a desire waiting to be fulfilled, a craving that’s been long overdue simply because you know that Minju is not an easy person to break down, though that’s been proven to be the complete opposite now.

There’s this priming for a second, your own hand wrapped around your cock, getting close, until you nudge yourself from the first few inches inside her cunt, feeling the small press to push more, replaced with the easy glide inside the compact, yet addicting heat. It’s also kinda cute how you and Minju share this quick inhale - a hiss would be better to describe it - then you see her blown out irises, that sly smile getting more lazier, lost completely when you drag the half of your length out, slowly, steadily.

“Wait, fuck-” she mumbles out, laying flat across the top. Her chest rises and falls a little more erratically, eyelids fluttering shut when you sink back right in, deeper this time, delicately, a little tease with the pullout before feeling her out completely. You learn for the first time ever since stepping inside that one room that day for the interview: that small thought of how it would be so easy to slot yourself right into Minju would be nothing but a pipe dream, becomes too real to relish in the feeling now.

Then she mumbles again: “holy fucking shit.”

You give one good snap of the hips for good measure, and the ripple effect of Minju’s body sliding across the desk, the wiggle in her perfect tits, her hands hold fast to yours around her thighs as if she’ll do the fucking all by herself while you just stand there in awe.

But you’re good as fucked if you weren’t already, so you snap your hips back into her again, harder. Then again, filling up her perfect cunt each and every time you bottom out. You’ll take this image to your grave, let this be the last piece of evidence submitted to the judge who’ll sentence you do a much safer place in hell: MInju’s pretty body, with stockings around her perfect legs, tits sliding across her chest in every stroke, cock disappearing inside her cunt as her pretty lips fit around them with ease.

“Minju, I - God,”, you try to tell her, the promise buried in your throat, buried underneath the air that flows right above the words, as your hips meet hers, the audible smack of her thighs filling up the office, how amazing she’s massaging your length well deep inside her, all slicked up and smooth for you to keep going. “I’ve been waiting for this- dreaming how to get you all stretched with this tight pussy. Your cunt, baby. Minju–”

“You’ve shown me why - why I chose you, out of everyone else - show me again how good you can-” she breathes. When her mouth trails off again, because of the strokes, the clench in her pussy, hands clinging onto your wrists as you cast your own hands onto her waist.

Eventually, nothing sounds better than the noises she makes against your collarbone, angling deeper where - you find out on the fly, and maybe something to keep in mind for later. It’s all coaxed out when you’re working her to the wall, holding her carefully while she can just keep herself stretched out, working all of the bundle of nerves across the spots inside her cunt.

“More, honey,” and the pet names just seem to escalate as they come, do they? She sets herself up on a wobbly elbow, seeing the flex of muscle across your arms and stomach each time you rip into her, fucking her with a steady pace, but teetering on the subtle rawness, that hidden potential that sets yourself apart from the other talents you have working as one of the top employees. “Love it when you- fuck me to pieces.”

"Anything else you want to say to me?"

“What’s also nice is that,” she continues to ramble (another thing that you’ve heard make rounds through the wings), dizziness shown in her eyes, the continuous clapping of her pulsing cunt, tightening around you, molding her into the perfect shape of - “how you continue to surprise everyone here, including me-”

A string of curses spill out your mouth, Minju can’t help with the mix of laughs and moans at how good you feel inside her, the sight of your cock vanishing between her legs, putting one past the degree where her knee nearly touches her clothed tit, and that gets her wincing for a quick second. You’ll probably put this in a mental file, how you’ll get her to molten cunt more creaming until she cums, cums, cums and cums-

“-you’re like me, but only as a handsome guy who continues to impress-”

Anything else that comes out of her mouth in lieu of praise will only feed that ego in your mind to get one over her, to say that you’ll always be two steps behind her while she’s five ahead. She doesn’t let you off easily, so why would you do the opposite for her? Rocking your hips towards hers makes the legs of the desk mirror the motion of your tempo, thumbs pressed up against the mold of her ribs just underneath her breasts, deep into the skin where you could also bend the bones beneath them while they rebound off of the smacks.

You’ve got your hand over her mouth, to shut her up, eyes squinted tight to where her brows could meet in the middle, grasping onto your wrist while the muffles of your name reach higher in octaves, sobbing in her moans while she’s suffocating against the roughness of your palm.

She can’t keep focus for any moment longer, eliciting shorter gasps when you tease by slapping your cock head on the nub of her clit, gritting her teeth at the shameless tease you’re giving.

“Can-” it’s a little sweltering to notice that she’s reduced to helpless one word blurbs, slipping inside of her once again to make her chest freeze off of the flares in her waist. “harder- i need you to-”

The shiver that erupts through your fibers sends you in limbo, feeling Minju’s ankle anchor behind your back, serving as the reins when you stutter in pace, ass hanging off of the desk to completely bottom her out, and your cock is constantly getting soaked with a new layer of her slick each time you pull back.

That low groan she lets out meshed with the word ‘fuck’ undermines her whole persona. Once known for being straightforward with her words, now lurching you in to keep pounding into her, slaps bouncing off the windows when she tries to perch her head upwards to see the damage, but slowly losing tension in her neck, deprived of focus when she lolls her head back to the original spot, sucking in air, sobbing even more loudly.

“Please, like that, keep doing that, I’ll let you anything to me, just–” You could see her lip wobble a bit slightly, cunt shaped to every minute detail of your cock, “i’m so- so fucking close, you fuck me so good- so well–”

“So tight,” you say, deep of that desired well. Minju is past the point of where the obscene words and demands can’t even be verbally said anymore. She’s whimpering, lazy wrist over her mouth again, the little strands in her hair bouncing along as one of the ripple effects caused by your length. “Gonna have you aching for me long after-”

It’s all royally fucked.

The way that she, oh-

How she clamps well around you, the new coat of her arousal soaking your crotch. When you’ve edged her out past the bar and how her whole body spasms in strain and ease, she’s clutching for something within arms reach - your hands and fingers, or anything that she can grasp - while these sinful sounds unravel her from her vocal cords. Her eyes look like they can’t open at all; with the small stream of stray tears falling from her cheek. You’re also crinkling your own features, jaw hung low with the bellowing moan leaving your mouth along with hers.

You could easily get lost in the reveling of Minju cumming over your cock, but you’re not seeing this through to the end not just yet.

In one swift motion, you flip her over, hook her waist, pull this one party trick of stripping her bra away from her chest, pushing her back down to which she giggles slightly. “Here.” you tell her, mouth well above the lobe of her ear, hanging her ass off the desk again. “I’m just getting started.”

Minju puts this lazy smile on her face, eyelids still closed, using whatever energy left that you haven’t dicked out of her to catch her breath, sliding her palms across the desk downwards to set herself in place. “God,” she says this as a revelation, “you are so fucking good.”

A low chuckle is all she hears while you pull her back up against your stomach, twisting her head up to your lips, pressing them to her cheek, while she traps her bottom lip between her teeth.

You say this as a serving rebuttal: “I’m better than good.”

Minju can be selfish at times, always willing to put her own personal interests over yours or anyone else’s (most of the time). But when you’ve broken her down to this: knees apart, your back flush with hers on her favorite couch, pushing well past the limit, driving your cockhead down the deepest depth to where you could get it, cupping the crease where her leg and hip meet, clasping with the pads of your fingers, dragging and impaling her what could be a punishment for her - or a reward to the limitless amounts of things that she wants and receives on almost every occasion. She’s the kind of woman to play the long game, hard to get, make someone like you grind your way in order to rail her in the most intense-rough fuck that she loves (but won’t admit), or the excruciating delay of feeling every nerve binded inside her walls, where the veins of your length just graze slightly enough to feel the tense in her muscles, her hands; going limp while lazily whining at the slide of your dick inside her cunt, playing with her while she’s whimpering at you to finish the job.

“God fucking dammit,” she manages, laying herself flat while you’re hovering right on top of her, taking your cock while she can only grip the seat covers. It’s all there, bare back and ass, the set of stockings still on her majestic thighs. You’re hitting her hips hard and heavy, the stable and slow strokes while she fills your ears with these strings of babbles that aren’t really conceivable to decipher or understand. She got a little to excited, bouncing her ass back against your cock while you just drop your arms and admired the show, before pushing deep with your balls nicking the clit at the end of every thrust, and that earns you these thick gasps, only taking you whole with every slam of your weight against her nimble body. “God, I- fuck- need you all the time, please.”

“Whatever you want,” you hush against the crook of her neck. That is something that you’ll take to heart under oath. She croons at how you're spilling all of these filthy things in her ear, a guarantee of sorts to the promises that have already bent the both of your minds into obliviion. "If it helps to stop you from fucking those other scumbags you call 'your clients' on a weekend basis, then I'll give it to you, sweetheart."

The self-control went off the rails a while ago, this was just free real estate with the endless cantations of moans coming out of her. "Need me to cum inside this sopping cunt so badly?" you ask, pulling a handful of hair that lifts her by the neck, "love using this pussy to get myself off."

She's giggling at the action because it's necessary. You could imagine the grin on her face for the entire world to see. "Words baby, or I'll cum-"

“Fuck- just, do anything- I want you.” Minju gasps with a whine tinged behind the words. It’ll be in the records, spoken into existence. She could care more less than a fuck of what others think after all of this is over. Pace slowing down, feeling that throb tremor against her walls when you’ve held out for this long, an overdue reward in itself.

It just took one more good hit to bury your cock into that perfect pussy, spilling everything, sending it deeper in the trenches of her cunt, fucking yourself in while she’s putting some effort to say your name, only for it to be overpowered by the gluttal moans you’re letting out while the shackles of tension finally come loose. Her head is pressed enough to leave a visible print on the cushions, crying before the shudder translates to her noises when you drive all the way in for one final time, letting the pulse die out; every heartbeat, every drop.

Your nose is pressed into the side of her head, taking in that sweet scent from her hair, showered in bliss, tangling and untangling until she takes rest in your arms, straddling your lap, chin forming alongside the small dip in your collarbone.

Minju offers this lazy smile, matching your rise and fall of breaths in your chest, blowing this hint of cool air to your neck that makes you twitch slightly from the sudden sensation, lips against the line of your throat:

“A hot and steamy affair, huh? I think I can let that pass by.”

“You really want to call it that?” you inquire, hands sliding down to the plush of her ass.

Minju simply laughs while you shake your head at the rhetorical question. “All honesty though, I thought that you and-”

“We are not going there.” you tell her, leaning back when she sets herself straight in your arms, hands along broad shoulders with the curtain of her hair falling towards one side. Definitely something that you’ve had in a wet dream before - talk about having deja vu. “Absolutely not.”

It’s when she trails her fingertip across the chiseled form of muscle across your chest, elevating her hand higher to cup your face. She gives you this look in her eyes, the kind that would make anyone keel over because as you’re reminded: Minju is someone who always gets what she wants. And when she rubs her thumb across your cheek, your cock jumps a few millimeters underneath her hips to which she notices, and seizes the opportunity presented to her.

Leaning forward with a purring whisper in the act, and you’re suspended in time while she moves. “I think I should repay you for treating me right just now.”

Minju has never owed anything to you. For the most part in your career, it was her that has given you these chances to make a name for yourself, to prove that you could go toe to toe with the best in the court, to prove to her why she chose you out of countless others to be her associate. If anything, you owe pretty much everything to her.

But maybe-

Maybe just this once-

“My little pretty boy needs to have his cock all cared for, right?” she asks when she sinks down to the edge of the disgraced couch, spreads your knees apart, eyes trained on you, lowering her head to swipe her tongue across your balls and the base of your shaft, feeling that same twitch in your cock when she gets a dainty hand across the length, well trained with the languid strokes that she’s giving you; it’s not hard to give in to that searing heat of her mouth while you’re trying to find the right words to respond.

(The options here are very limited: considering the fact that you have your hips forward with your friend / partner / new love interest slobbering all over your length, rubbing the head of your cock across her pretty face until she drains you out completely, painting her cheek white and bathing in the taste of your cum while you’re struggling to stay awake.

After all, you could just spend the night here at the firm bearing in mind how late it is.

Or better yet, have Minju stay at your place to not give Dahyun another headache to deal with the next morning.)

#male reader #male reader smut #izone smut #minju smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kim minju #izone minju smut

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fillinforlater · 8 months

Text

On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji

Length: 3128 words

Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji

TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)

"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?"

Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.

"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch.

“Who is helping you, who is he?"

"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches.

"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.

"I can't fail this."

Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.

"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."

"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"

"You really want this, Minji?"

"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Why do you—"

"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Thank you so much, Unnie!"

"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—"

Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice:

"Never try to get between him and me."

"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.

"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."

"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure."

You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking.

Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.

"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."

"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"

"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.

"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"

"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.

"Get on your knees."

"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?"

You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?”

“H-how did you know—?”

“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."

Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it?

Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.

"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"

A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes.

"—I'll fulfill your desires."

Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.

Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.

"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."

You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.

The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?

"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.

"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."

"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"

You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—

"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."

—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.

You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom.

"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"

"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."

"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."

Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."

"Oh,

"You call this nothing?"

You tsk and slap her face with your cock.

"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!"

You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.

"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—

The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.

"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.

"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me."

Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.

She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink:

The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.

You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.

"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."

"Can you do that?"

Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock.

Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.

"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."

You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach.

"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—"

But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge.

"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”

She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career.

And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking.

Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.

"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."

Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."

"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."

"Yes, Master."

"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.

"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."

Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—

"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"

You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.

Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.

"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."

"M-Master, I..."

"Shut the fuck up.

"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #male reader smut #newjeans smut #newjeans minji smut #minji smut #kim minji smut

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

Text

Fix

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Mechanic!Reader

When you get a house call to fix a car, you have no idea that your payment will come in the form of sleeping with the customer

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (r receiving), fingering (W receiving), Wanda thirsting over mechanic’s jumpsuit, needy Wanda

Note: Hehe this one is fun. Reader is a mechanic/handywoman/all around fixer of things (including all of Wanda’s needs). Enjoy this one!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

For the summer, you have picked up odd jobs here and there to build up funds for when you go back to college. You cleaned, babysat, and even worked at your family mechanic shop these past few months.

Before fall really began, you decided to go on one more mechanic’s call. It was guaranteed to bring in significant funds for your semester ahead, so you figured why not. But as you stand in front of the house, you realize why no one else wanted to take this call.

You heard from talk around the shop that Mrs. Maximoff wasn’t an easy client. She was intimidating and could be quite evasive with her payments. You had seen her around town before bossing her kids and her husband around.

But still, you take a breath and knock on her door. You need the money.

The door swings open a moment later to reveal Wanda. She is wearing a blue blouse with an apron over her waist. You haven’t seen her up this close before. She is beautiful.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m here to fix your car,” you say.

“Just you?” She asks, glancing to see if anyone is with you. When she sees it’s only you, she shakes her head.

“Yes ma’am. I can get to work if you show me the car,” you say.

“Just a minute,” Wanda says. She sounds annoyed by your ask.

Wanda disappears and returns a moment later with no apron on. She has the car keys in her hand. You step to the side to let her lead the way.

“My husband runs this car too hard,” Wanda says. “I think it’s something with the transmission?”

“That’s what we were told, yes. But I can do a full workup if you would like,” you explain. You hold your hand out for Wanda to give you the keys. She hesitates.

“Are you sure you’re qualified?” Wanda asks you.

“I guarantee it, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say.

The way you say her name makes her stomach burn with a feeling she hasn’t felt in years. She hands you the keys, and you take them with a polite smile.

“I’ll be inside if you need anything,” Wanda says.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You get to work on the car. It is a transmission issue, which you know will take a while to fix. You waste no time getting out your tools and parts from your truck. Luckily, you have fixed this issue before.

You’re so focused on the car that you don’t notice Wanda watching you from the window. She is still cooking, but she steals glances out to see you bending over the hood of the car. It’s making her feel unsettled. She feels downright on fire when you pull down the top of your uniform and wear only a tank top over your chest.

After a couple of hours, Wanda makes some sweet tea and walks out the door with a glass for you.

“How’s it coming along?” She asks. Her voice startles you a little bit, but you recover quickly.

“Just a few more hours, and she’ll be good as new,” you say. You turn to face her. Her short hair rests perfectly around her soft face. Her green eyes shine bright in the afternoon sun.

“For you,” Wanda says, holding out the glass of tea.

“Oh- um thank you,” you say. You’re suddenly aware of the grease on your hands. You feel like you shouldn’t touch her glasses. When you try to rub your hands clean with no avail, Wanda holds back a chuckle.

“Here,” she says, stepping closer to you. She brings the glass to your lips and tips it just enough for you to take a sip. The sweet liquid refreshes you quickly. Wanda seemingly knows when to pull the glass away from your lips.

“Thank you,” you tell her. “That’s really delicious.”

Wanda nods in agreement. She knows it is. She lingers as you look back to the car.

“Well, I should get back to work,” you say.

“Right, of course. Let me know if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Your heart jumps at the term of endearment, but you try to ignore it. All southern ladies talk like that, so it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

Wanda goes back inside and tries to busy herself with chores, but she finds herself looking at you again. The grease all over your pants and hands do way too much for her. She decides to give up on her chores. There was no use.

You finish working on the car about three hours later. Wanda is on the porch when you finish. How long had she been there?

“I’m all finished, Mrs. Maximoff,” you tell her. You approach the stairs, and she makes no move to stand up from the porch swing. You step onto the porch.

Wanda’s eyes rake over your arms that are muscular and the way your collar peeps out from the tank top. You feel her eyes on you.

“Do you want to come in and wash up?” Wanda asks. Her eyes meet yours.

“Oh, I really should get back to the shop,” you say.

“But you’re all dirty,” Wanda says.

“The truck is too,” you reason with a laugh.

“Come wash your hands at least,” she says. She won’t take no for an answer. You nod and follow Wanda inside.

She walks you to the kitchen sink, where she goes as far as putting soap on your hands for you and turning on the water. Wanda watches intensely as you wash your hands clean. Her mind can’t help but wonder what else you can do with those hands.

“Thank you, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda,” she says. “And it’s no problem. Here drink some more tea.”

You take the glass with your own hand this time. She watches as you swallow the drink down quickly.

“Before you go,” Wanda begins. “Do you know how to fix a leaky faucet?”

You noticed the sink had a slight leak when you turned the water off.

“I do,” you say. You glance at your watch. “I can take a quick look.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Wanda places a hand on your arm and rubs it slightly. You wonder if she notices you shiver.

“I’ll just go get my tools,” you say.

Wanda waits for you to return. She decides she will make a move. Life is short. Why not?

You come back inside, and Wanda sits up on the counter next to the sink. Her legs are spread a little unnecessarily wide. You can see up her skirt when you kneel to look at the pipes below the sink.

“Do you see where it’s leaking?” Wanda asks a few moments into your investigation.

“Not quite yet,” you say. “I may have to turn the water back on to see.”

“Won’t that get everything wet?” She asks. You can’t exactly identify the meaning of her tone.

You stand back up and see Wanda has spread her legs even wider. Her hand is between her legs, and she bats her eyes at you.

“Mrs. Maximoff- um- Wanda,” you begin. “I really should-”

“You should fuck me,” Wanda says. “Please?”

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say. Here is this beautiful woman waiting for you. “Won't your husband be home soon? And the kids?”

“We’ve got time,” Wanda says. “Please sweetheart, I was watching you all day. You are so hot and so good with your hands.”

Wanda lifts her skirt over her hips to reveal thin, lacy white underwear. They leave very little to your imagination. She makes grabby hands at you, and you step closer to her. She holds your biceps in her hands. Wanda leans close but stops short of your lips.

“You’ve been keeping me achy and needy all day, baby. Can you fix it?” Wanda asks.

“Yes- yes ma’am,” you say.

Wanda rewards your answer with a kiss. Her movements are deliberate as she moves her tongue into your mouth. You kiss her back and rest your hands on her hips.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda says once she breaks the kiss. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me, ma’am.”

You move your fingers to pull her panties to the side. Her folds are wet with her slick. You run your fingers over her and then lick them. Wanda’s hips jerk up at the sight of you tasting her.

“Delicious,” you say, putting your fingers back over Wanda’s pussy lips.

You push past them and insert your fingers into her one at a time until she’s taking three of them. Wanda makes the most beautiful sounds as you move in and out of her. Your other hand pushes up her shirt. She lifts it over her head and unclips her bra.

Your mouth switches between her nipples and her lips as you continue to finger her. Wanda grips your arms tight as you fuck her.

“So wet and tight,” you tell her. “So fucking good, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “I’m going to come.”

“Come for me, Wanda.”

Her hips move erratically as she feels herself let go for you. You don’t relate your movements during her entire orgasm. She looks perfect as she reaches peak pleasure.

You kiss her lips softly and move your fingers out of her. When you go to put them in your mouth, she stops you. Wanda brings them to her mouth and sucks each one as she keeps eye contact with you.

“Fuck,” you groan at the sight. You feel your own body aching.

“I want to taste you,” Wanda says.

You help her down from the counter, and she drops to her knees in front of you. She slips the jumpsuit further down your body to reveal your pussy to her. Wanda moans as she brushes her nose against your clit and begins to lick through your folds.

“Mm, I love the way you taste, baby,” Wanda says. “You’re just perfect.”

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of Wanda eating you out. It’s never felt this good before. It doesn’t take her long to bring you to an orgasm, especially when she adds a finger to work with her mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan as Wanda cleans you up.

You pull her up and kiss her deeply. Your tastes intermingle on your tongues. Wanda runs out of breath first, but you keep trying to kiss her. She chuckles.

“I don’t even know your name,” Wanda says, resting her forehead against yours.

“Y/n,” you supply.

“Y/n,” she tries it out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you say, a smile on your face.

You hold Wanda against you for a few moments before she tells you she has to clean up. You help her get dressed and kiss her once more before you exit the house.

“Hey wait!” Wanda yells after you. You turn back around. “I didn’t pay you.”

“Consider it paid for,” you say. “Call us again for anything you need fixed, alright?”

“Anything?” Wanda teases.

“Anything, Mrs. Maximoff.”

No more than two days later, Wanda makes her first follow-up call to you. Turns out you got so caught up in her that you hadn’t fixed her sink. Or maybe you didn’t fix it on purpose.

Either way, you can’t wait to see her again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #mechanic!reader #wanda maximoff #very milfy and needy #enjoy hehe

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xomakara · 2 months

Text

Second Chance at Love

SUMMARY | Jongho’s twin daughters really want you to be their new mom ever since you have been taking care of them after their mom passed. They’re trying to play matchmaker between you and Jongho to fall in love, but in actuality, you and Jongho already have feelings for each other.

PAIRINGS | Jongho x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | widow!Jongho, nanny!Reader, singledad!Jongho, dilf!Jongho, lots of fluff, smut, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll!), face riding, creampie, impregnation, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW

LENGTH | 7134 words

TAGLIST | @yourlocaljonghoe (tagging cuz I know you're waiting for it lol)

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet

@k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Hi, hello. Thanks @itsnotmydejavu for all the brainstorming. I really appreciate it! This was more fluffy that I anticipated lol. We really need more dad!teez fics out here~

"Joomi, I think we should make Daddy fall in love."

"With who, Jooeun? Y/N?"

"Yeah! Wouldn't Y/N be a great mommy? She already takes really good care of us! And she's mommy's best friend."

"Mommy would be happy if Y/N was our new mommy."

The two five-year-olds were huddled by the stairway, looking down the hall into the kitchen where you stood by the sink and Jongho cleared the table. After their mom passed away, the twins knew that their dad was struggling to raise them himself, he had no clue what he was doing. When you, their mom's best friend and their favorite person in the whole wide world, moved into the home to help out, they were thrilled.

They knew you had been close to their mom, but seeing how much you care for the three of them just proved to them even more that you are the perfect match to take over the role of their mother. You cook all their favorite meals, you read bedtime stories to them, and you even help them brush their teeth! You loved all three of them very deeply and would do anything for them. The girls admired you and adored your kind heart and the loving smiles you had for their dad and them. The girls noticed the way the two of you looked at each other when you thought no one was looking. Their dad had it bad and Joomi could tell that you did too. But you and their dad always insisted you were 'just friends' and that there was nothing more than that. So, being the bright children they were, Joomi and Jooeun put their minds together to hatch a plan.

If they made you two fall in love, you could get married, and become a family!

Their dad was walking into the kitchen. "How did their snacks go? Were the girls okay?"

You nodded. "Oh, it went wonderfully. The girls were perfectly sweet the entire time."

Jongho exhaled a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry for leaving. I had to stop by a client's office since we are having trouble meeting a deadline for a project that needs to be completed by Friday. If anything were to go wrong or anything would happen..."

You put a hand on his arm, stopping him from rambling. "Everything was fine. Don't stress yourself out, everything's under control here. You just take care of whatever work you need to do."

Jongho nods but hesitantly stops. "I'm...just afraid something will happen. The girls...they've been through enough. I feel bad for asking so much from you, I don't even pay you to take care of them or live in my home or-"

You chuckled. "Hush. No money is necessary to watch over the people I care about. Plus, this is more than a payment. You've given me a place to stay, food, and the company of two adorable girls. Now stop worrying."

The look Jongho gave you after that was too warm and sent butterflies fluttering throughout your body, but it made your cheeks heat up.

Joomi and Jooeun made small noises of "falling in love, falling in love, falling in loveeeee," over and over while they looked over at their dad and you by the stairway. They were careful not to be noticed by either of you and they were patient as they watched.

"Okay...you're right," Jongho breathed out a heavy sigh and you saw the way his shoulders visibly relaxed, his built figure leaning forward and closer to you.

You laughed. "Let's start planning a summer trip, okay? When things are not as busy."

He smiled. "That'd be lovely."

As soon as he said that, you heard the girls giggling by the stairs. "Were they listening to our conversation this whole time...?"

You covered your smile. "Probably."

Jongho scrunched up his nose, laughing to himself. "You know what they're trying to do, right?"

"I mean- they've been playing their games lately..." You let out a small laugh.

You can see Jongho shaking his head from behind you. The two of you walked up the steps, approaching the kids at the top and grabbing them. The girls screech playfully in shock, holding back a snicker at what their next plans could be. Jongho holds both of them in each arm, one girl in each, and you're unable to hold back your laughter at how precious they are. Jongho carries them both off to their bedroom, where he drops them softly on the big bed that the two girls shared. They're laying on their bellies, kicking their feet back and forth like fish, a huge grin plastered across both of their faces.

"I know your tricks, ladies. So do be a little less obvious about trying to play matchmaker." He scolded them playfully, hands on his hips and giving them a pretend serious look.

Joomi snorted, still kicking her little feet. "We've noticed you and Y/N."

"What does that mean?" He chuckled.

Jooeun flipped over, the bedsheets making a small swoosh sound underneath her as she laid down on her back. "You and Y/N have crushes!"

Your eyes widened. You felt yourself redden up. "Oh. Girls! No no no, your daddy and I are just friends. Best friends! Like, soooo best of friends!"

Joomi furrowed her little eyebrows. She glanced back and forth from you to her father. "You and Daddy love each other like mommy did, but don't kiss."

"Or...at least haven't kissed. Yet," Jooeun sang.

You let out a shaky sigh. "Where are they learning these things? Don't go saying things like that, the two of you."

Joomi nodded with a shrug. "Why not? Are you embarrassed?"

You let your gaze wander over to Jongho to look for some support on the matter. But Jongho was flushed and looking everywhere other than at you. It was obvious that this wasn't an easy conversation for either of you to have, much less in front of the twins.

Joomi noticed your actions and she smiled, snapping her head over to her father. "What? Are you embarrassed, Daddy?"

Joomi was giving him the same look she always did when she's trying to convince him to get something for her. With big puppy eyes, a wide smile, her bottom lip out with just a twitch at the end. Her eyebrows wiggle just a little, begging him silently and sweetly. She and her sister knew their father couldn't resist when they pleaded in that certain tone of voice, looking in their sweet little girl ways. They've played their games so many times, so why not try again?

"Joomi..." Jongho sighs, putting his hands on his knees, not being able to escape her large dark brown eyes. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

The twins only let out tiny laughs, shrugging and hugging each other in the bed as Jongho stood. The girls love him very much and are grateful they have such a good father, despite their circumstances. Jongho leaves the room and you stay in the room with them, sitting on the bed, wanting to get to the bottom of where the girls' idea of a crush came from.

"Who told you about what a crush is?" you asked the girls after they sat themselves on the bed and changed into their PJ's.

"Uncle San!" Jooeun squeaks as the top half of her head peeks out of her PJ top.

You internally facepalmed, thinking about how Jongho's older cousin, San, was whispering conspiratorially with the girls after they asked him questions about life in a school filled with friends, crushes and parties.

"We thought you and Daddy liked each other," Jooeun had confessed innocently.

"Do you hate Daddy?" Joomi frowned, getting teary-eyed as her head pokes through the collar. "Do you hate us? Are you going to leave?"

You give her a hug, cupping her face with your hands and giving a sweet, reassuring smile. "No, no, no, sweetheart. Not at all, it's just complicated. Please don't say those things again, okay?"

It hurt, seeing the disappointed looks in their eyes and on their pouty lips, but you tried not to show it on your own face.

"Promise?" Jooeun had pleaded.

You took in a shaky breath. "Of course. Come now, time to get to sleep."

You helped the little ones into their beds, tucking the blankets around them and reading from a fairytale book as the light to their night-light flickered from the wall outlet. They slowly drifted off to sleep and you shut the bedroom door with a gentle click behind you. With a sigh, you approached the master suite across the hall and opened the door quietly, catching sight of Jongho flopped stomach-down on the mattress, buried with a duvet as you chuckled at the sight.

You clicked the bedroom door shut as you entered, stepping over to him. "The kids are asleep," you announced softly, moving to sit on the side of the bed and leaned over, poking his shoulder blade.

With a quiet huff, he rolled over, his face and shoulders now facing you. His fluffy hair lay flat over his eyes and a low sigh passed through his nose as his eyes shifted to meet yours, eyelids drooped.

A smirk found its way to the corners of his mouth. "Those two will be the death of me."

"You know we'll have to tell them about us eventually if they keep it up with their shenanigans," you warned him, laying yourself overtop of him.

"I was thinking of ways to approach the subject with the girls in my head just now." he revealed to you, reaching his arms around you. "I'm nervous that I don't know what they're really thinking or feeling."

Your hands came up and framed Jongho's cheeks. "Oh, Jongho...those girls are too smart. They even asked San about what crushes are.”

"San? Why'd they ask him?"

"That's not the point." you whispered, running your thumb across his soft cheek. "Do you think we should sit down with them? Explain?"

"Explain what? That their daddy and their nanny are secretly in love with one another because they can't stop sneaking kisses in secret places of the home?"

"Shut up." you said with a playful nudge at his chest.

"But you admit those kisses are nice." Jongho says as he sits up, dragging you onto his lap, the blanket sliding down his toned chest as his arms remain around you.

"Extremely," you confirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you feel the hands on your waist move to cup the underside of your thighs, adjusting the way you're positioned on him.

"Hey." Jongho brushed his nose with yours as a whisper against your lips.

"Hello," you replied with a giggle, already finding his mouth and leaning in with the full intent of kissing him again.

"Would you be happy with a widowed, single dad?" He continued to stroke the back of your leg with his fingers. "What it be wrong for me and the girls to be happy again?"

The tips of your thumbs draw little circles on the back of his neck. "Nothing is wrong with that, Jongho... I think Eunmi would be happy if you and the girls were finally able to move on and be happy."

"What if that happiness was with you? With us?" he asked, pressing his forehead against yours and rubbing his hands up and down your sides and you gently rub his back with your fingers.

You lean into the embrace and inhale, closing your eyes for a moment, then pulling away. "When Eunmi told me her last words to take care of you and the girls... I think maybe that was her way of telling me that it was okay for us to be happy. It's not like we're strangers. Not like we haven't been together before."

You and Jongho had known each other for years, and at one point, the both of you dated back in high school for a year or two but broke off your relationship for various reasons. You met Eunmi in college and ended up staying good friends with her throughout the rest of the years. And when you found out that Eunmi and Jongho started dating and eventually got married, you couldn't have been more pleased for the two of them.

You were never jealous that Eunmi and Jongho were together. Never jealous when they got married or when you helped Eunmi with the twins' birth.

Never once.

Because you loved them dearly and you wanted them to be happy together.

When Eunmi fell sick and lost her fight with the sickness that plagued her body and spirit, she pleaded for Jongho to promise her to live his happiest life possible, and that meant starting a family all over again. Because she couldn't anymore. She couldn't raise their kids, or start over as husband and wife with Jongho, so the least she could ask for was for him and the girls to be happy. When you visited her in her final days in the hospital, she grabbed your hand and asked you a favor.

"If you love Jongho and want him to live a fulfilling and happy life... then please, look after him for me when I'm gone," she had begged with tears in her eyes. "You know how to take care of our girls, and if Jongho were with you and the girls are happy with you, I know he would be more at ease. With more help, with love...and if somehow the both of you were to fall in love all over again with one another...don't leave him, okay? Take care of him...take care of the three of them...love them, make them happy...my family is your family now."

That was over a little more than a year ago, and Jongho, although still hurt over his past love's untimely loss, was healing. So were Joomi and Jooeun. That was proven by the fact that Jongho was finally starting to love again, albeit slowly, after a while. The twins were right. They knew that he was happy when he was around you, just like he knew the twins were happier when you were around, just as their mother, Eunmi, knew the same thing.

And the last promise he made Eunmi on her deathbed was one that he will make sure he keeps.

Live his best, happiest life possible, even with the way that his life was now.

Even if it meant being with you, the woman he once loved before and recently was falling for again.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your back hitting the plush comforters as Jongho shifts to pin you on the mattress below him. You look up and see the gleam in his eyes that have turned a shade darker from before. Your hands snake their way around his neck as he reaches and traps your face with his fingers and palms. A mischievous smirk danced across his features, his thumb rubbing the spot below the corner of your mouth, his index and middle finger rubbing at the shell of your ear. You shivered at his actions.

"Let's make them happy, Jongho..." you cooed, relishing in the soft, tickling touch of his fingers along your neck and shoulder. "Let's be happy, together, with them. Like Eunmi asked."

"I love you, you know that? I can't help but think that Eunmi knew what was going to happen, the whole time," he expressed with a big exhale as you pull him forward and close. "And she never once left me. Never doubted that I loved her even with my...previous feelings for you resurfacing."

"She loved you so, so much, Jongho. Don't ever think she didn't love you, or that she thought you didn't love her, despite the things that happened when we were in high school," you reminded him with a reassuring smile. "She loved you until her final breaths and beyond, and wanted nothing but a lifetime of happiness for you and your girls. You deserve that. Everyone deserves that. Including you."

"Do you love me too...?" he whispered against your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek.

"Always have, always will," you promised, smiling and finally pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

The next few days passed in a blur. The girls were constantly scheming or attempting to make you and their father become 'official' to their little eyes. You and Jongho would playfully play the fool, knowing their secret plans, and doing small things that would give them the belief that their tricks would work.

But in actuality, you and Jongho were having a good time trying to guess what would come next. One day, you woke up early and had just finished washing the dishes from breakfast. The girls scurried up behind you, wrapping their small bodies around your legs like adorable monkeys clinging to trees.

"What are you two up to, huh? Going to try and climb Y/N like a tree and claim that I stole your new favorite?" You hear Jongho joked as he leaned on the doorframe between the living room and dining room.

The twins giggled in unison at the ridiculous accusation as Jongho slipped closer, grabbing both girls from either side and tickling their sides as he lifted the twins up on his broad shoulders.

"Never! Our favorite is still you, Daddy!" the girls gasped in between fits of laughter as you watched on in amusement at their antics.

You rolled your eyes at the girls' silliness.

"Careful there. Make sure the two of you are hanging on tight," you playfully warned them as they straddled Jongho's shoulder blades.

The two girls immediately sat and hung on to Jongho for dear life, faces buried on either side of his head. You and Jongho chuckled at the adorable display of their devotion. You reached out and bopped the twins' noses in turn as they peered up, big bright grins adorning their cherubic cheeks.

The weekend is arriving soon, and with it, comes an overnight trip for the four of you.

"Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet?" the twins cried out, looking out the passenger's-seat windows in anticipation.

"We'll be there soon," you laughed from the front seat where you were seated beside Jongho as he drove along the road to the campsite.

You and Jongho decided to take the kids camping, along with his friends and their kids to get a break from the bustling city life. His friend Mingi has a lakeside cabin and lots of land on which you can pitch a tent, start a fire, roast marshmallows, swim in the lake, and go canoeing or kayaking, just a few hundred meters away from the cabin itself. Jongho explained this to you as you looked out the window, smiling and watching the pine trees on either side of the vehicle whizz by at lightning speed.

Your thoughts drifted from the scenery out the windows to the scenery in the passenger seat beside you.

Jongho has his eyes focused on the road. His mouth was set in a small smile as he maneuvered the vehicle and focused on his driving, looking back into the rearview mirror to glance back and see his children giggling and talking amongst one another.

Then his dark brown orbs flickered over to your side briefly before his eyes landed back on the road before him. He turned and tilted his head towards you and his smile only got wider as his eyes crinkled at the sides, an adoring look settling over his handsome features.

"What's on your mind?"

"Not too much," you murmured, not realizing that you were being called out because of the pensive look you've been wearing on your face while looking out the windows. "Just thinking about stuff, you know, as a typical human is prone to doing from time to time."

"Got something you wanna share or something you want to keep to yourself?"

"Mmm...let me get back to you on that one."

Jongho let out a chuckle, shrugging and facing forward again. He kept his hand on your thigh the entire drive.

As soon as Mingi came into sight and everyone pulled up and parked in the driveway near his cabin, the twins were ecstatic. Unable to keep themselves in check as they jumped up and down and opened the door, they hopped out onto the ground and rushed towards him. Jongho's other friends' kids did the same thing and rushed forward, enveloping Mingi in a big group hug and pulling him downwards to smother his face and neck with affectionate kisses and screaming 'Uncle Mingi! Uncle Mingi! We're here!!' at the top of their lungs. A look of bewilderment crossed Mingi's features and he laughed heartily.

"Oh man, I wish I was that popular," San muttered as he watched the kids crowd the tall man, shaking his head.

"You're just jealous that Haru likes Mingi more than you," Wooyoung said teasingly, punching San's shoulder playfully.

"But I'm his dad!" San said with wide-eyes.

"And Mingi is his favorite uncle." Hongjoong pitched in.

"I've been replaced." San faked a dramatic swoon.

"Yunhee, make sure you get money from Uncle Mingi!" Yunho yelled at his daughter who only responded with a loud 'Got it!' from Mingi's front porch before turning around and giving her father a thumbs up.

You watched as the kids greeted Mingi on his porch and then he turned his attention to the adults and waved enthusiastically, pointing at the cabin door.

"Lunch is inside already and is ready whenever you guys want! Help yourself! We got games set up in the back if anyone wants to get their butts kicked in basketball or kickball. We also have kayaks in the back we can take out onto the lake. We've also got plenty of seating on the deck and some patio furniture. Make yourselves at home!" He announced, his voice booming out with laughter.

The adults nodded at him, not missing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he continued to yell at the kids. "KIDS. There's a small playground behind the cabin with a swing set, sand pit, slide, etc. and the water's right behind that. BUT-"

With that, the kids perked up and looked at him, eye-wide, eagerly hanging on every word that would leave his mouth.

"But~ If you don't behave well, Uncle Joong and Uncle Hwa are going to turn into super spies and capture each and everyone one of you!" Mingi announced in his serious adult's voice as he eyed the kids before continuing with, "Don't even try us! You can run, but you can't hide. Uncle Woo and Uncle Yeo have superhuman hearing and can detect trouble-makers from a hundred feet away. They'll be on you before you even realize it! Uncle Yunho and Uncle San have lightning reflexes! One little slip up and they'll snag you faster than your father can!"

The kids gasp and run past them in a hurry towards the playground that lay behind the cabin. The adults looked amused after their gleeful retreat, and it's not long before the noise of playful squeals and shrieks fill the air.

You and the rest of the adult pack burst into a fit of laughter at the fact that Mingi just riled the kids up into a frenzy. The others looked back and watched their offspring tear into the backyard. You watched a fond look cross Jongho's face, the smile reaching his eyes as he watched the scene in the back unfold.

"Jongho," Mingi said, interrupting Jongho and shaking him from his thoughts. "Are you and Y/N okay to share the bedroom in the back of the cabin? All the kids wanted to have a sleepover in the living room, and all the other bedrooms were claimed, save for one. I mean, I could sleep on the couch and one of you can take my bedroom..."

"It's okay, Mingi." Jongho smiled, pulling you to stand beside him and wrapping an arm around your waist, looking at you for approval.

"Ohhhhhhh~" the rest of the guys exclaimed, slapping him on the back, playfully. They were happy that Jongho was moving on.

"Wait," Wooyoung cried out, confused, "Wasn't there another room open?"

Mingi wiggled his brows. "Totally open."

“So why…” Wooyoung scrunched his face in confusion. Then his eyes widened in understanding when it clicked in his head. "Oh. Oh, damn!"

"Did you plan this or something, Mingi?" you laughed.

He holds his hands up. "Nah, the kids suggested sharing the sleeping arrangements. I would've switched our sleeping places around, but Joomi and Jooeun gave me puppy-dog-eyes and asked me to go along with their plan. Don't think any of the adults or kids here could resist a face like that."

"The twins and their shenanigans. Their mom was such a schemer so the apples didn't fall far from the tree," you said affectionately, remembering the woman you called your best friend.

"They take after Eunmi but their hearts are in the right place." Seonghwa laughed. "They know that you two like each other and have been wanting you two together for a long time. Guess today, we're accomplices to their 'Matchmaker-Twins'. Right, Captain?"

"Yes, we are," Hongjoong piped up.

You giggled at the remark, realizing that the others were in cahoots with the twins' scheme. You rolled your eyes, not surprised that all the kids and adults are in on the plans the two made for the day, the rest of the group joining in, egging the girls on, and enabling the twins to go along with their plots and plans.

After helping the twins and the other kids settle into their 'camping spots', and getting them properly settled in their temporary sleeping arrangements in the living room and putting them down for a nap, you and Jongho retired to the back room to relax in peace and quiet until the kids wake up again.

The two of you climbed into the bed and under the sheets, settling down on top of the covers. You and Jongho simultaneously sighing in relaxation and content. Jongho rolled over onto his left side and pulled your body, snug to his and against his chest, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

"Want to get a quick nap in?" you ask.

"I know something that will put us right to sleep," Jongho whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck, right below your ear, causing you to shiver at the contact.

"Now?" You teased, a smirk playing across your features.

"Why do you think Mingi gave us the very private room in the cabin? I guarantee he put two-and-two together, plus heard my little munchkins' schemes, so..." Jongho retorted, continuing his little trail of pecks along the expanse of skin on your neck. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation. His mouth was trailing hot and open kisses along your exposed flesh, his tongue flicking at the curve of your shoulder. The trail continued downward until he was stopped by the cloth covering your skin. Jongho looked up at you. "What do you say, baby? Wanna?"

In response, you reach down to pull up the shirt you were wearing up and over your head. Dropping it to the floor next to the bed. "We need to hurry, though. Mingi said the kids are probably going to wake up in the next hour, maybe, to finish up their outdoor activities."

"An hour is more than enough time," Jongho murmured against your jawline, pulling you towards him and capturing your lips in a hungry, passionate kiss as you grind against his groin. "More than enough..."

The atmosphere grew heated rather fast and in no time at all, the two of you were bare of your clothes, warm skin touching warm skin, his lips chasing yours and yours chasing his, trying to feel him as close as possible.

"Get your pretty ass up here. Ride my face." Jongho demanded.

"You're kidding," You choked out in disbelief, he shook his head at your words, his hands traveling down your curves.

"Nah, get up here. Sit on daddy's face." His words were a breathy moan against the crook of your neck and you felt yourself blush from head to toe.

"Jongho," you whined.

Jongho moaned desperately and pinned you to the bed, lifting you by the back of your thighs easily and throwing your legs over his shoulders as he laid back on the bed, his dark eyes burning into yours, "Please?"

"Are you trying to kill me?" You asked, giggling as he stared at you.

"Just turn around," Jongho chuckled, and the next second you gasped as his hands grasped you tightly and pulled you around to where his face was inches from your soaked core. "Hands on the headboard and keep still."

His firm demand sent heat shooting throughout your stomach and down into your aching pussy, and you quickly scrambled to grab onto the headboard. You almost jumped out of your skin as his tongue took a long, slow lick up the length of your slit, your grip on the wood tightening as he slowly began circling his tongue over your clit.

The wet heat that pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves was almost overwhelming and you ground your teeth as Jongho began pushing his tongue against you rhythmically, licking and sucking at you as he tried to fuck you with his tongue. His ministrations were methodical and measured, never picking up the pace too much, but applying an immense amount of pressure every time he moved against you.

Your head was swimming at this point, the feeling of his soft mouth pressing against your drenched pussy was sending shockwaves of pleasure all throughout your body, causing your nipples to harden and your mind to reel. You couldn't keep yourself from whimpering slightly at the way his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, and your hips jerked downwards involuntarily in an attempt to feel his tongue deep within you.

A guttural groan erupted from within his throat, and it reverberated against you as his grip on your thighs became impossibly tighter. He pinned you against his mouth so that you couldn't squirm against him again, keeping you on his tongue so that it could continue massaging over every sensitive bit of your pussy.

And before you even realized what you were doing, you had clenched your thighs around his head, not allowing his head to budge from underneath your hips. He moaned against your flesh and picked up the speed of his movements, sloppily lapping at you and dipping his tongue deep inside, stretching your clenching walls, working your entire core in a way that was sending you barreling into a quick and intense orgasm. Your legs bucked out on either side of him as you moaned loudly, pressing his tongue deep inside of you.

"Gosh, Jongho! F-Fuck!" You moaned, pushing your hips down and riding his face vigorously until your entire core pulsed, sending warm shockwaves rippling through your whole body.

When you finally finished clenching your thighs around his head, Jongho managed to lift his head up just enough to begin sucking hard on your oversensitive clit. "Don't fucking move," He murmured against you.

As your head slowly spun, he held himself there, moaning against your wet flesh. Jongho would not allow you to recover, and his tongue never stopped its movements, continuing to lick at your walls as if he could drink every bit of you in.

"Taste so good…" He breathed, kissing your inner thigh gently.

"Oh please..." you whispered and gasped as the pressure of his mouth against you suddenly increased, Jongho moaning obscenely beneath you.

"You make the prettiest noises..." Jongho said as you felt his hot breath fan against your overly sensitive pussy, his mouth moving against you rapidly, almost as though it couldn't kiss you deeply enough. "Couldn't help but be noisy could ya? Little tease..."

"Baby, I can't cum again..." Your whole body was beginning to spasm now as the warmth between your legs threatened to burst again, his lips pressing hard against your clit and sucking deep and slow. Your vision was going white as the pressure built in you. You could feel yourself climbing toward yet another earth shattering release as you leaned against the headboard for support, knuckles turning white from your iron-like grasp.

But Jongho never let up, relentlessly dragging his mouth over your swollen sex and moaning hotly as he pleasured you, eyes closing in rapture as he lost himself in the taste of you. "Can you cum again? Can you cum on my tongue, beautiful?"

Your grip on the headboard tightened impossibly and before you knew it, you were cumming, your body jerking in time with your pulsing pussy, soaking him as you released everything within you.

Once your high fizzled out, and your heartbeat returned to a normal rate, you were feeling your body growing tired. Your fingers and arms and legs were sore. "Jongho..I need a break..." you sighed, leaning down to try and push his head away, your words sounding more desperate than you'd meant them. "I can't cum again like this, it's too much.."

"Then do you want me to fuck your pretty pussy?" Jongho asked, looking up at you through dark eyelashes as he circled his tongue against you. "I could kiss this pretty pussy all day long, but I don't think you can wait anymore."

You bit your lip hard at the words and glanced behind you to see Jongho pumping his thick member with his hand, still holding you in place with his other arm. "Please..." you murmured.

With a pleased groan, he helped turn you back around, moving both of you until he was positioned on top, spreading you wide apart and nudging his tip against your swollen entrance.

"Stop teasing me," you whined, the sight of his twitching length inches from where you needed it made you a bit crazy. Jongho chuckled lightly and captured your lips as he slowly pushed himself in.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your lips the second Jongho was balls-deep inside your pussy, your arms flying around his neck, clinging on tightly. He fit inside you so well, filling you up in every conceivable way, the tip of his cock hitting every hidden part of you.

His lips travelled along your neck and collar, sucking and kissing the soft flesh. Your mouth was still agape, hanging low with no sound, only letting out little gasps as his tip brushed past the deepest part of you, sending warmth radiating throughout every nerve-ending.

"My beautiful baby.." Jongho hummed, pulling out gently before pounding into you, one strong arm wrapping around your hips and lifting them so he could pound against a different spot deep within you.

Suddenly it seemed to you as if Jongho's tip were brushing over your clit each time it pulled back before sliding deep into your entrance.

You gripped him tighter as his hips moved back and forth. Before you knew it, Jongho's name tumbled out of your lips as he hit a soft spot of yours.

"Jonghooo..." you moaned, losing your mind.

"Gonna fill your pussy up with my cum...make you take it..." Jongho growled, snapping his hips up again with more force.

"Wanna give you my kids. Would you like that? Add another to our family?" He groaned against your neck, squeezing your ass, then swatting it.

He pushed himself in as far as he could, biting your earlobe as his member twitched inside of you, "Tell me, baby. Do you like being a mommy to me and my twins, and being my pretty wife? Don't want anyone else...only my baby. I love you so much. You and my girls..."

"I love you and the girls too, Jongho. So, so much." You respond, feeling the tell-tale signs of the pleasure building deep within.

"Do you want to cum, my love? Gonna take every drop of daddy's cum inside?" he moaned into your ear. His husky voice was so hot, and the feeling of him, pressed into you, so unbelievably warm and powerful, caused your body to tense, and then go limp under his strong hands. "Want to give you a baby too, sweetheart. I'm ready for another set of twins, and another set after that, if I'm blessed with it."

And when Jongho slid his tip between your sensitive folds, hitting every raw spot he could as your body shook, that was it. The walls of your pussy contracted against him, a gush of his cum emptied inside of you, making its way to your awaiting womb, hoping for it to take seed and create more lives. You moaned and threw your head back, thrusting your hips upwards to meet his one final time.

Jongho grunted into your shoulder as he fucked his load into you, cumming as deep inside you as he could possibly go and taking deep breaths.

You wrap your legs around his waist, locking him against you and pushing his cock to the hilt inside your dripping walls, not willing to let a single drop escape. His pulsing cock makes your core pulse. The two of you stay as still as possible as you catch your breath, Jongho breathing hot air down your chest.

"Don't you dare pull out yet, Choi Jongho," you ordered firmly. You needed him close, wanted him near you. Jongho smiled up at you.

"Is that what you want?"

"Mmmmhhmmm..." you moan, and wiggle your hips to make his cock stir your insides. Jongho moaned back into the mattress and grabbed your waist tightly. You squeal in delight at his sudden movement, then press your lips firmly against his, claiming him as your own.

"Y/N...would you marry me?" Jongho asked softly a few minutes later, as he propped up on his left elbow and looked deeply into your eyes, stroking your hair gently. "Officially be the girls' mother and my wife? I was hoping..."

He reached down beneath the pillows, and pulled something from underneath it. He looked shy as he revealed a black velvet box in the palm of his hand, holding it out towards you. "Would you, please?"

"Yes, Jongho." You say in response, watching him open the small, velvet box. Jongho exhales and a smile appears on his handsome features as he pulls the ring out of its housing, sliding the metal band on your ring finger of your left hand. "Absolutely yes."

It fit perfectly.

He crushed his lips to yours and you sighed into the passionate kiss, running your hands through his hair as his tongue pressed inside. It felt good, almost too good, but he pulled away and laid back on the bed.

After a while of cuddling, kissing, and playing with his hair, Jongho buried his head in the crook of you neck. "I think we should clean the sheets, shower and just cuddle..." He said quietly. "I have a feeling that the girls will barge in once they're awake and we don't need them seeing this mess or smelling the room."

You hum in agreement. You and Jongho kiss softly, barely audible 'I love you's' being whispered between the two of you, your fingers running through his silky strands. You love this. You're so in love and you can't imagine not being with Jongho, and you truly love and adore his two girls.

After getting the room and the two of you cleaned, and the sheets changed and clothes pulled back on, the two of you laid comfortably in bed in each other's arms.

Jongho turned so that he was hovering over you, one hand propping him up, the other lightly caressing your cheek and thumb tracing your bottom lip. He lowered his head and brushed his nose against yours, lightly pressing his lips against yours. He pulled away to see your cheeks a rosy tint of pink. He leaned his forehead on yours and chuckled. He went back in to continue kissing you.

The door flew open and the bed dipped as two weights jumped onto the end of the bed. Jongho rolled over, the twins landing in the bed, bouncing with their jump, laughing loudly. Joomi moved to sit on your lap, and Jooeun did the same with her dad.

"How was your nap?" You asked the girls, hearing the loud screams of the other children and their parents somewhere in the cabin.

"Good but we're hungry and Uncle Joong told us to wake you up for lunch, so we did! But we didn't run here. We walked." Joomi said.

"Yes," Jooeun agrees.

"Are you sure you walked or ran? I heard some feet scampering down the hall when I woke up," you smirked and booped their noses. They giggled.

"Y/N, are you and Daddy a couple now?" Joomi whispered in your ear. You heard Jooeun asking her dad the same thing.

You and Jongho both chanced a glance at the other before saying at the same time, "Are we?"

Jongho laughed before leaning in and giving you a small kiss on the lips. He also glanced at the girls who were jumping and cheering in your arms. "Why don’t we get you girls and Mommy something to eat?"

"I could hear them telling the other adults that their little plan worked." You whispered. The twins were talking your ears off, excited that you were going to be their new mother now that you and their daddy had finally gotten together.

"I love you." Jongho kissed you as the four of you walked together out to where the other adults were, to have their lunch.

"I love you, too." You kissed him back before kissing the top of the twins' heads. "And I love my new little girls so much."

The twins squealed and screamed louder, "Mommy, yay!" They both launched at you, hugging the life out of you.

"C'mon Mommy, lunch now!" Jooeun pulled you forward towards the table that had been set up for the lunch buffet style. Joomi held out her hands, palm open, to her dad. Jongho chuckled before interlacing his fingers with hers. The four of you walked towards the long table where the rest of your friends and the kids had already made their way to and piled their plates with their food, before sitting together and enjoying their food.

"Told you the plan would work!" The twins exclaimed, the adults laughing.

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year

Text

"If you need to be mean"

Konig just got his promotion to colonel. It also came with deployment in a terrorist-ridden country, but at least he would get an adorable, civilian you as a prize. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig perspective Word count: 5213 My AO3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

König hates this fucking country.

Shithole in the middle of nowhere, with literally nothing going on – some border quarrels with some terrorists that are desperately trying to settle into the big war on terror that won’t achieve a thing and would be meaningless anyway. No one wanted to actually station here – this is why they promoted him so quickly, just so they could send him away like a pack of garbage they can’t give two shit about throwing out.

He never even wanted this promotion. Too much work, too many people, never enough time to relax. Payment is sweet, of course – if he only had time to use any of this. He is too old for new titles, you can’t teach old dog new tricks – and, quite frankly, he does feel terribly old while doing nothing but pushing papers and listening to some useless fucking recruits with their reports.

Job is simple – stay on the base, make sure that the locals won’t become too villifed to the soldiers that are supposed to protect them, even though he already knows how people would feel about the PMC stationed in their city. Fights with occasional resistance from the outsider force that decided “Hey, let’s just annex our neighbor, what could possibly happen?”. He doesn’t know a lot about this country – but if they have enough money to hire KorTac to help the local forces, he might be quite interested. If he only had energy for that anymore – between relentless paperwork and occasional yelling at his stupid fucking nonsense of rookie – seriously, it feels like they hired a bunch of edgy 12 year olds instead of normal soldiers.

Job is simple and he finds himself bored to death because this isn’t what he enlisted for. He wanted to fight, to kill, to burden this urge to hurt people who once wronged him with someone who is – probably, maybe, somehow – deserve it. Not really a noble cause, but he stopped playing knight in shining armor once they used him as an infiltration weapon instead of what he actually wanted. All hopes and goals in his life were buried deep with his first sniper rifle – and rude comments about his inability to sit still, even though he is still as good at being a killing machine as a human being possibly can.

— Sir! We, uh, have a problem to report.

Gut.

A problem – this sounds as exciting as it can be. Last time his brigade got a problem, it was about some new recruits falling down with stomach ache because of the forged alcohol they were drinking. Also that one time someone tried to burst their way into the base – not fun, since officers took care of him, but it was at least something to do except for reading and scrolling through various housing options like he actually has a use of buying something with more than one bedroom. Like someone would look at him and love him – enough to pass through some easy fling and start living with him. No one would do that – even his parents couldn’t.

Still, the problem sounds exciting. Maybe, he could actually go on a mission instead of feeling useless. They promoted him just to pin on the wall like a trophy.

— Repost immediately, soldier. What is it?

— A civilian, well…a civillina woman…lady, broke the curfew.

And here it is. Not an unexpected attack from his enemies, not even a drunken fight that someone from his subordinates decided to join and ended up getting their asses kicked. Is this what years of service come to? Watching over some stupid club girls broking the easiest fucking rule to follow, like getting home at midnight is a completely alien experience for them. One of the things he hates about his rank – he is used like a public figure, giving speeches, trying so hard to come up with something other than “Ja, we will kick asses of everyone who tries to infiltrate your country, don’t worry” and then he has to act like he knows what he is doing. Which he obviously doesn’t. If there was a way to just give up his rank and become a shadow again, a monster under a terrorist’s bed, he would do it. Without even a second to think.

— Send her to the police. We aren’t supposed to deal with…

Then comes the second guy – he doesn’t even remember his name, fuck this, he is supposed to be a father to his troops, or big brother at least, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck to someone weaker – inferior, smaller, someone who will die within a week or so in his first battle because apparently, higher-ups just love recruiting spineless teenagers now.

Second guy comes to the room, holding someone very firmly by their hand – and König isn’t religious, he isn’t even sure when was the last time he was at any church, the little prayers his grandma used to sing is long forgotten for him, but he sees your face and almost believes in angels.

König is too old for this shit, again, he hates this country, his team, his rank – then he looks at your face, the way it twists with fear and nervousness because of course, one of his dumb subordinates is holding you too tight and the softness of your flesh – why in the world you are wearing such light clothes, it’s night outside, you will catch a cold and he would give you his jacket, but that would drown you under the weight of it, and he don’t want you to smell the alcohol he has on his clothes, terrible coping mechanism with boredom, and he might just give you something else, maybe, like his shirt or a…

Wait a minute.

He doesn’t even know your name, even though he is sure this is something gorgeous and would look perfect next to his last name, but he looks at your face and all the years of his military training is suddenly washed away because he can’t even muster a thing out of his mouth. Thank god no one is forcing him to stop wearing his hood – he wouldn’t be able to survive otherwise, not with how hot his face feels right now. You are nervous, this is obvious, since you broke the curfew and went on the streets past 11 pm. He should just bring you to the police, he isn’t even sure why his soldiers would bring some random civilian to the base. He immediately wants to give this private a raise – for bringing him a goddess walking on Earth. Angel, succubus, all of the fancy names and…it feels like he is going crazy. And he should compose himself. Be a good example of a rotten mercenary commander.

— Why were you breaking the curfew, miss..?

He hates how squeaky his voice sounds, even after all the years in service he can’t get rid of that boyish tone and nervousness every time he is talking to women. All the fear is immediately washed away after you tell him your name – and it’s gorgeous, perfect, feels like something he can devour, something he can moan in the depth of the night while using his hand as a poor substitute for the warmth of your body.

The pause lingers too much and he already suggests just…taking you. To further investigation. to see if you are really just an innocent person caught up in breaking the rules or an enemy spy – which would give him the perfect opportunity to interrogate you and hold you for a bit longer. He wants you to be a problem, actually – that would give him the authority to hold you here, to think about you in a way that won’t immediately make him a bad person.

— Went to the pharmacy. Forgot about the time, I’m…I’m sorry.

You look guilty and weak and nervous obviously – a good girl caught up in the reality of her home country now implementing new rules just so it won’t get annexed by their neighbor. He wants to protect you – or give you the real reason to be scared of him. He wants to be good, but you look too cold in those clothes and he wants to give you something more. Or warm you up in a different way – which makes him feel horrible, his skin crawls and hands are fidgeting again even though he is almost sure he forgot about that habit after a few trigger-happy moments with the enemies.

— Pharmacies should be closed by this time. Why were you here so late?

Soldier that brought you here left you with König – colonel, you saw him in the newspapers and on TV, some public speeches while concealing his face in various ways. You don’t trust him, don’t trust the mercenaries – how can you believe that they are going to save you if they don’t even dare to show their faces? He is even scarier in person – big, hulking, too muscular to feel safe, with something like a sack thrown over his head. You want to forget about the medicine you bought and just run away, but that would only mean outright saying that you are guilty.

You brace yourself and try not to feel too small, but König just wants to wrap his hands around you and throw that weak body of yours on his shoulder. Not letting you go away. Ever.

— I…got lost. Sorry, I know what this looks like, but I just changed the apartment and…look, this is a bog misunderstanding. I have my documents, I’m local! Not some spy or anything, I promise.

Too bad – you would have the opportunity to escape if you were an enemy. Some evil and wicked femme fattal that is here to seduce him and get the important information out of him – but if you are telling the truth and nothing, but a civilian, he isn’t sure that he could save you from…falling to his hands. It’s stupid, he should really just find someone to fuck, he is getting desperate over the first cute and gentle girl he saw in this place – but really, do he has a chance with a soldier if just a helpless weakling like you can make him kneel? He needs to compose himself.

— You really shouldn’t be out so late. There is a reason the curfew is upheld. It saves you from the danger.

— For now the only danger after midnight is your soldiers, apparently.

Your breath hitches as you understand what you just said – god, who was holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of the fucking commander? You might have had the chance of just escaping before, you weren’t doing anything wrong, you know that some of your friends were breaking the curfew after a party or late visits, but they were never held to the police or martial law – soldiers are understanding of the situation, no one from the young people actually wants to stay in their houses no matter the threats war can bring. You might have the chance of going out with nothing but some harsh words about those stupid younglings ignoring the rules – but now you insulted his men and this will probably bring you to jail for the night at least or something even more…

He laughs. And the sound of it makes your cheeks warm.

— Ja, I can understand why you would say that. But you shouldn’t break the curfew.

You feel like winning a lottery, but the prize isn’t money – it’s the chance of getting out of this creepy building and going home to your warm sheets and slight smells of devastation and loneliness.

— I’m really sorry, sir, I won’t do this again. Promise.

You look guilty, and König loves this expression. The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with tears when you think he would actually make you goto jail or do something even worse. He relishes in this power over you – even though he doesn’t mingle with civilians, always keeps a safe distance with women around him, never dares to even give them a careful look. He wants to take you away – protect from the world around you, from this fucking place, from all the dangers. The only thing that is dangerous to you seems like him – because he is the only one with power here, the only one who can decide whether he wants to behave like an asshole and lock you away or…

— I can’t just let you go. Let me…I can escort you to your residence so I can make sure you actually went home. And not somewhere else.

He looks at your pharmacy bag – it's a shitty plastic one, transparent and see-through. He understands immediately why you would decide to run to the pharmacy so abruptly even within the vicinity of the curfew – and the fact your bag contains pads and pain medicine only makes him want to scoop you in his arms and get you to his quarters. Government gave them a pretty nice location for the base and he, as the commander, got a bedroom that won’t even make you think about the military. Perks of quartering outside of base, even the barracks are nicer than the ones at home – and he would love to introduce your sore body to the comforts of warm sheets.

You look at him, surprised and nervous, your adorable lips twists in a pout as you think about your options. You can’t really say no, this can make him angry and resentful – and these aren't emotions you want the local military personnel to feel about you. He is also scary, and stares too much – you don’t want him to look at you like this, both surprised and depraved, but something in his figure still makes you trust him. Maybe it’s that weird propaganda about them protecting your country – he is a public figure, he can’t be evil, right? Maybe it’s just the way his hands fidgets as if he is nervous about your answer – or little cracks in his voice that makes you blush just a little every time you hear it. Or you are simply too tired to not comply.

— I, um…are you sure? You must have some other things to do. I don’t want to be a bother, really.

— I want to protect you from harm. Nights are dangerous.

You want to say that it’s okay, you spend more time in this country than he is – and you know every little corner of the city by this point, no matter the military outposts and destruction. You also want to say that this is creepy as fuck and you don’t want a random guy to just know where you live – but you can’t say that, you are already almost buried yourself with that long tongue of yours, and the only thing you want to do right now is just drink your ibuprofen in peace and get teleported to your bed.

You want to say no, but it almost feels like something romantic and even though he isn’t showing his face, the view of his muscles, bursting out his clothes and body armor, enough to make you agree. You can regret that decisions later – but with the way his eyes light up like he is a puppy, you probably won’t.

— Okay. I…I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir.

— I live to serve. Und ich diene gerne jemanden, dir so bezaubernd ist wie du.

— Sorry?

It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel like it’s something important – but you don’t want to ask for translation, he mutters it under his breath, Maybe some curses about stupid girls getting caught by his soldiers and how he needs to escort them to make sure they are not enemy spies ready to put their knives in his back.

— Just show the way.

He is awkward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he looks at you and fights the urge to just squish you with his hands. You are pouting, your hands are trembling, and you are shaking – maybe from the cold or just from fear. König hates himself for not understanding whether he wants you to be scared of him or not. There is something dark, predatory almost, in having someone as adorable as you shaking like a leaf – but he also wants to just scoop you in his hands and make sure you will never be afraid of him.

He is awkward, silent, he goes on the open side of the sideroad like protecting you from any vehicles that may cross the road at this hour – even though the only ones who are allowed to move at this time of day are hospital workers and his soldiers. His hand looms over your side, like he is not sure whether he wants to just grab you by your shoulder or allow you to lead in a more simple way. You feel protected in a way – you can’t even read his expressions because of that weird mask he is wearing, but his eyes are strangely warm every time he looks at you and thinks you are not looking at him.

König wants to talk, but he isn’t sure what he even can say to you. The weather is nice? It’s the night, a cold one, and he doesn’t want you to catch some weird illness, but he also doesn’t want to seem like a creep by giving you his jacket. He would do so in a blink of an eye, he would die seeing your smaller body wrapped in his clothes like a nice little gift – but he knows who he is. Monster, giant, always too much and never enough, zero experience with someone who is one his one night stand in some lousy pub when he hates himself a bit less than usual. And you smell clean, civilian, sweet almost, he feels like a dog by just looking at the way your cheeks are blushing from the cold weather.

He wants to initiate the conversation, know what you like and dislike, maybe learn your opinion about the situation – many locals dislike military presence, he understands this, KorTac isn’t known for being the best guys around here, but they get the job done, however bloody this might be. He would give away anything to just be able to talk – to speak like a normal person, without scaring you or making you think that he is weird. It’s borderline embarrassing, over the many years of his life he was thinking that he would outgrow his anxiety somehow – and here he is, fidgeting with the stupid anti stress toy in his pocket that his therapist gave him, not knowing how to talk to a girl in his grown up years.

— You’re local.

It doesn’t even sound like a genuine question, it’s more like a threatening statement and he doesn’t like the way it sounds. He can’t gave it back now, it would be even weirder, he just wants to calm down and breathe, but even this is fucking impossible when every time he looks at you, it seems like you are only getting prettier.

— Lived here all my life, sir.

You’re nervous, and he at least finds some comfort in this – he is not the only one who is scared here, even though he understands that you will surely be more scared than him. But it still comforts him just a little, knowing that you are in roughly the same boat – he can smile under his hood and attempt to at least pretend to be normal. Even if this would be literally impossible for someone like him.

— Where do you work?

It sounds like an interrogation and you are not sure if you want to answer truthfully – he isn't trying to force you right now, he isn’t even touching you no matter how closely you are walking, but you are smart enough to understand why telling a random man you just met where you live and work is a bad idea. Even if the man itself is a prominent figure in protecting – or not – your country and literally walks you home because you got lucky to not be sent to the police for breaking the curfew. You would just lie to him about where you work and, hopefully, never see him again – but it’s not just a random guy you met on Tinder. He probably has the resources to check if you really work in said place and if you didn’t and just lied to him then, well…he isn’t threatening you, but your overthinking is enough to make you scared.

— Just a waitress. Cafe I work at isn’t very far from my apartment.

You even tell him the address, all while praying he won’t visit you at work. He has the right, of course, especially if he would leave a good tip, but military personnel staying at your cafe probably won’t be good for business. Clients may go away, and that would mean leaving you without tips – and then you can kiss your shitty apartment goodbye. He probably won’t visit you, he is just asking this to fill the awkward silence and check whether you are a spy or not – how confident your answers are, if your story checks out or not. He is a colonel, he must have a lot of other stuff to do instead of chasing over some rule breakers.

— Hm.

König already knows where he will be eating every day from now on. But…hell, can he do this, really? It would probably be very awkward for both of you, and you may think that is stalking you, which he definitely is, but doesn’t want to show it yet. He can give you a nice tip every time, he sure as hell has money for it, but then you would think that he is trying to buy you, which he would of course try to if you would be fine with it because honestly, girl as adorable as you should get all the nicest thing she wants to, and he can provide for it, but his damned awkwardness would never let him outright say this, which would lead to a very uncomfortable situation and…

— We might need someone local to help with operations.

Nailed it. Right?

— Wh…what do you mean, sir?

You look scared, nervous, he doesn’t want you to be scared, you’re supposed to feel safe around him! He might hate higher ups for giving him this rank and sending him to this fucking country, but he will protect you no matter what. He wants to be useful, for people to stop being scared of him – to start liking him instead, even if some cold, dismissive way of just stopping bothering him with stupid stuff. He would allow you to bother him all the time, he would protect you and make sure you are alright – you just have to let him, that would be really easy and…

— We’re strangers here. Lots of operations crossed because locals refuse to cooperate. We might need a guide out here.

He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t really care about your answer, but the grip of his hands is stating otherwise. He throws you nervous looks, cold eyes flickering with anxiety as you take your time to answer, secretly hoping that you would get home before you’d had to state this. It doesn’t feel like a genuine question, more like a statement again. More like you don’t really have an option to say no, since he still has the power over you. Since he still looks and sounds like someone who can and will throw you over his shoulder and use it as a cannon folder.

— I…I’m not sure, sir. I have to work at my actual job.

Can he blow up your cafe? That would greatly diminish the chances of bumping into you on a romantic Sunday morning, ordering coffee just the way you secretly like it, and then leaving you a very generous tip that would immediately show you what a sophisticated and loaded gentleman he is. He can say that enemies did it, and then he would execute those poor people for ever messing with civilians. He can also get some people from the government to close it, so you wouldn’t have any place to work and then you would be simply forced to work with him – and help him get out of this country as soon as possible. He would pay you well, of course, and being your boss would be a very…interesting experience for him.

— Are you sure?

You bite your lips and it's proven to be a horrible idea in such terrible weather – your skin breaks easily and you feel the blood in your mouth. Nice – now you would have to invest in lip balms again even though you are sure as hell that even yesterday the weather was nice. Colonel – König, you remember his callsign, no names of course, some twisted secret identity over protecting people who can literally kill you and won’t have consequences – look at you and you can swear to god that his eyes are narrowed, studying your features a bit more. Is he going to kill you for refusing the…job offer? Demand of working with mercenaries to protect your country?

— Sorry, I…I really need to think about this. And get at least two weeks notice from my job.

He is too focused on the way blood is glistening on your lips. He wants to lift the lower half of his hood and lick every little drop lingering in your mouth. Kiss this little wound until you would turn into a moaning, crying mess under him. Hold you so tight, he would leave bruises in places his fingers were – all while you are allowing him to. He isn’t delusional enough to think you like him the way he adores you already, but he is delusional enough to imagine you would comply with him mostly – he is a great person. Except for almost everything, of course.

The road to your home is lonely, no one around, obviously. People aren’t breaking the curfew on the main streets – except for you, apparently, they are tending to do stuff in the shadows if they need something to go out at night. He looks at every street light with suspicion, almost wanting for someone to try and attack you – that would allow him to be your hero, protector, to put out all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while being praised for it. He wants someone to try and kill him just to feel a bit more alive – but then you stop in front of the house, and it only takes one look for him to decide that no, he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He may not be a good or even decent person, but he is not allowing an adorable little thing like you to live in that fucking rathole.

— You live here?

— Yes. Thank you for, well, looking after me. I know that I broke rules, I won’t…won’t do that again. Sorry.

— No.

— What do you mean “No”?

Is he going to inspect your apartment? You are pretty sure that you left your bed in a very chaotic state and there is more than one pair of panties lying on the couch. Not even speaking about how horrible your living conditions are – tiny apartments, barely enough space for one person fitting in 20 square feet with all of their stuff inside, and an overwhelming desire to blow something up each morning when one of your neighbors is fighting again.

You don’t have anything to hide, but you are getting pretty tired of people who just think that because they sold their bodies to the military, they can do what they want.

— It’s a horrible place for a girl to live.

Hey! You might hate your place, but even that rathole of an apartment doesn't deserve something like this.

— Well, it’s not a castle, but…I manage.

— Don’t you have another place to sleep?

He is fighting with the urge to invite you to the base instead. Far greater place for a little goddess like you, much nicer than…this. He has to physically restrain himself from throwing a hand on your shoulder. He just stared, hoping that you would pull a prank on him and actually has some better living conditions – he can’t bear thinking about you in that kind of life instead.

— It’s a nice one, really! At least I don’t have to live with roommates.

He can be your roommate. No, not even like this. He can buy you a freaking house if you would want, just pick a place, preferably in Austria, and that would be easy. He would love to just provide for you, to get to live with someone as adorable – as in need of protection as you. He understands that being this delusional is off brand even to him and his wild fantasies, but he spends too much time hating his work lately, and he needs some outlets, breathing room to just drown himself in fantasies about a nice girl who can actually like him. Who can be his everything, a cure to fix him even though his therapist says such expectations from your partner are toxic and codependent.

He knows that he can’t say anything to you right now. If anything, you would dismiss any of his worries and just call him a psycho – would be right, probably, he doesn’t even know why he is so obsessed with your safety all of a sudden. He is only self-reflective enough to understand that he can’t act right now, no matter how much he would want to. He can only sigh and let the situation go, for now. He can always just show up at the place you work at. Totally not creepy at all, definitely, completely.

— Be safe, hase. This time is very dangerous for a girl like you.

— It’s…okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me, sir.

Oh, but he wants to.

Oh, but you want to run up the stairs and close the door behind you as fast as you possibly can. And maybe, just maybe, give him your number – definitely for consultation about the safety and how you can forfeit from breaking the curfew later in life.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, large fingers tracing over your thin shirt, and goosebumps that are running on your skin aren’t from just the cold weather. You feel ashamed for kinda liking the situation – you are creeped out by him, you are curious about him, and you kinda want him to do something else. But he squeezes the soft flesh of your shoulders, rolling a bit lower, to your back – and then lets go. You breath hitches as he takes a step back, clenching his hand as if fighting the urge to do something else.

— We’ll meet again.

You just nod, not sure if you want it or not. König makes a point to determine which apartment is yours based on the window placement and pay you a visit in his leave time.

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #konig x reader #konig #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere x reader #yandere konig #yandere male

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Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.

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marlynnofmany · 2 months

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Not A Pest

I kept a hand on the pallet of boxes on the hoversled, making sure it didn't wobble while Blip and Blop pushed it up the ramp. It was all held in place solidly enough by high-tech netting much fancier than the kind we used, and I didn't need to worry much. So when we reached the cargo bay and Zhee called for my assistance back on the ground, I didn't feel bad about leaving the Frillians to finish loading it. They were strong enough to muscle anything into place if needed anyway.

“What's up?” I asked as I trotted back down the ramp.

“Thought you might weigh in on their pest problem before we go,” Zhee said with a twitch of his antennae towards the clients whose stuff we were delivering. More Frillians today: not as beefy as Blip and Blop, but with waving frills everywhere that just made Zhee look like a praying mantis among flowers. He also looked smug, but that was nothing new. “I mentioned an animal expert, and they mentioned payment,” he told me.

I came to a stop beside him. “You know I don't know everything, right? Just putting that out there. My vet training was on Earth.”

“Yes yes, I gave them the disclaimers,” Zhee said.

The client in front, a tall female with colors like a Siamese Fighting Fish, said, “That’s better than anyone on our ship has. Something's getting into boxes in our cargo hold, and we can't find it. Tore into some food and made a mess of the animal fibers.”

The shorter male behind her in salmon-peach tones held out a lumpy handful of what looked like brown wool. "My guess is it's making a nest somewhere, but it's being wasteful with the stuff too. Tangled it up something fierce."

My response died on my lips as I got a good look at it. Among the stray fibers was the exact shape of a teddy bear.

“Can I see that?” I asked.

He handed it over. I plucked off the extra bits and yes, it was definitely meant to be a teddy bear, made by hand from the wool in the cargo hold. There were even little twists for eyes.

I looked up at them. “You don’t have a pest. You have a stowaway.”

They blustered and pooh-poohed the idea: nonsense, how could there possibly be an intelligent creature onboard without their knowledge?

“We’ve been in space a long time,” said the tall one. “Only stopping at uninhabited locations for resources.”

“And at the—” put in the pink one, then stopped at a sharp look from his teammate.

I wasn’t about to let that go. “The what?” I asked.

The tall one sighed. “We salvaged some fuel from a wreck,” she admitted. “But there was no one on it. We checked. And with the tow ship we saw in the distance, it seemed likely enough that the owner had jetted away in a life preserver rather than sticking around. It was a single-person ship.”

Somebody else piped up from between the many crates in their cargo hold. “It couldn’t be a person! There’s nowhere big enough to hide!”

I held up the teddy bear. “This is a child’s toy from my planet.” I looked up at the maze of pipes on the ceiling. “And my people like to climb.”

Zhee was being smug behind me while I made a quick circuit of the room, looking for likely spots. One corner was particularly dark, and it had a series of crates below the pipes, stacked into a perfect ramp. I flashed back to the time a litter of kittens had found a similar hidey-hole on my own ship. This spaceship was made by a different group of aliens altogether, but they never seemed to expect anyone to pay attention to nooks and crannies in the ceiling.

“Hello?” I called, climbing onto the first crate with the wool bear in hand. “Anybody up there?” I continued in every language I knew greetings in, which included the galaxy’s favorite trade language (which I knew well), several minor trade languages (which I did not), and a smattering of languages from Earth (which I knew not at all), plus English. Despite my efforts, I didn’t hear a thing until I got all the way to the top.

“Jambo?” I tried, peering into the dark crevice. “Uh, sprechen sie deutsch?” I held out the wool bear. “Is this yours?”

A quiet gasp echoed off the pipes, then two small arms reached out to grab the bear. With further coaxing, the girl clambered forward to where I could see her: dark skin, wide eyes, artfully braided hair, and clothes that looked fancy, if very dusty. I’m not great at kid ages, but she was young. Old enough to push buttons on her parents’ spaceship maybe, not old enough to steer.

I still didn’t know what language she spoke, but it was hard to go wrong with body language. I held out my arms for a hug. “Want to go home?”

She sniffled and climbed forward into the embrace, clinging tight. That made it a bit of a challenge to get back down to floor level, but I managed. A crowd of Frillians and one smug Mesmer waited there.

“See?” Zhee said to the tall Frillian. “Exactly the animal expert you needed.”

I shook my head in amusement. “For all the wrong reasons, you’re exactly right.” The girl didn’t want to be put down, so I hoisted her onto one hip and stood carefully. “How far away was that crash site? Can you send a message to the planet or station the tow ship came from?”

“Yeah, we’re on it,” the tall Frillian said, her frills flattened in what might have been shame. She directed a couple of the others to do that, and also to gather the fuel they’d scavenged.

Zhee cheered her up with talk of a probable finder’s fee. “Humans get very attached to their offspring,” he said. “There is a strong chance this one’s parents are already advertising a reward.”

While they talked money (and Zhee got our ship that promised fee for pest control), someone with sense arrived with a bottle of water and questions about what food would be suitable.

The girl drank the water eagerly, not letting go of her bear, and didn’t answer any of my questions about food allergies. She accepted some protein cubes and chewed them with determination.

By then, a reply had already come from the nearest space station, and a ship was on the way. Full of authority figures and very anxious parents, by the sounds of it.

While the Frillians discussed that and the little kid quietly refused to be put down, Zhee held up his communicator so I could talk to Captain Sunlight back on our ship. Zhee had already explained the situation.

The captain asked me, “How long do they expect until arrival?”

“I think they said about half an hour,” I said. “Hopefully that won’t put us behind schedule.”

“No, we’ll be fine,” she said. “Given that the young one is so taken with you, we might as well stay to make sure everything gets resolved. Does she need to visit the medical bay?”

“I don’t think so. She hasn’t said anything yet, but she doesn’t look injured. Couldn’t hurt to give her a once-over with the hand scanner just in case. We’ve got time.” I looked down at her thoughtfully, then had a bright idea. “And I bet she’d love to meet Telly. After we check her for allergies, of course.”

The captain agreed that was a fine idea. Zhee took over the conversation while I asked the girl, in a mix of Earth languages and pantomime, if she wanted to see my cat.

Her eyes lit up and she started talking in a spill of words that I didn’t catch in the slightest. Spanish, maybe French? Portuguese? Ah, it didn’t matter. The language of kitty ears and “meow meow” is almost as universally recognized as hugs. We walked from one ship to another, and waited for her parents in the company of a medical scanner, human food, and a very friendly cat.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #I wrote this a few days ago #then visited a home of some very fluffy dogs today #it's summer and they're shedding #I definitely thought back to this story #in other news I am not yet talented at making arts & crafts from husky fur #but there's always time

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daddydomjayjay99 · 2 months

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ATTENTION SISSY DIAPER FAGGOTS

If you can meet these simple criteria! Message me and we’ll see if we can’t destroy your masculinity too! Understand however this is a commitment! Im not interested in babies who use me to talk dirty too, get their rocks off and ghost! If im dominating you this is a commitment to produce what daddy demands. Im looking for a plaything that wants to be humiliated, regress, demoralised, pushed to do uncomfortable things and who can commit and follow my orders over a long period of time. Approach me diaper faggots, submit and i’ll make your sissy baby girl dreams come true!

Criteria-

1. Firstly I’m sorry but I’ve simply got no attraction too babies who are overweight, I get far more enjoyment out of skinny or slightly curvy faggots being feminised. However that said if you are slightly larger and agree to go on a strict workout and diet plan to make your body more effeminate then we can work with that.

2. You live alone! Its not a dealbreaker if you don’t but I prefer it because i will as a minimum want you caged and diapered when in your own home. The aim is that as a minimum i will operate a doorstep setup where in you will as an absolute minimum be MY sissy diaper fag while in your home and when you leave to go to work or other commitments then you may be a “man” again.

3. THERE ARE NO TRIBUTE FEES OR DEMANDS OF PAYMENT TO ME!!!! With that said, I don’t want payed by you but what i will do is ask you to buy or save up to by sissy baby faggot items or clothing which i want to see you in. In the event your a good faggot and do as your told then Daddy is not apposed to buying you little treats.

4. You understand that daily communication with Daddy is non negotiable, you must always see too it when Daddy messages you answer within 12 hours. You will not ghost or go on communication blackouts of any kind.

5. You understand that Daddy’s word on anything is right, is law, you will endeavour to do everything exactly how daddy says and you’ll consider daddy’s opinion when making any big decisions yourself.

6. Now this one seems odd but please, only cisgender males approach. I have nothing against transgirl sissies i just personally dont feel comfortable degrading or humiliating them about being failures as men and giving the usually sissy humiliation tasks to someone who’s genuinely not comfortable in their own skin and is changing gender. Its less of a you thing and more of a me thing on that one.

What will be expected of you:

1. You will at an absolute bare minimum be expected to wear chastity 24/7 and diapers at any time when you are not at work.

2. You will present as a juvenile, girly, effeminate, dress wearing, diaper using, juvenile activity doing sissy from the moment you enter your home till the moment you leave.

3. Over time i will force you to take on more effeminate characteristics to further destroy your masculinity such as growing out your hair, getting ear piercings, growing your nails, shaving ALL body hair from the nose down, painting your nails, perhaps dyeing your hair. Should you be committed enough you will eventually be forced to use a breast enlargement pump and perhaps even oestrogen.

4. You will fill your closet with sissy and sissy baby clothing of which i approve and over time will throw out male clothing you wear at home.

5. You will be given task which require time to be taken daily to learn new skills which are vital too a sissy like you such as makeup tutorials and hair styling tutorials.

6. You will also accept that you will be unpotty training yourself at night so that you are diaper dependent at bed time. I want you to wake every morning to the humiliating feeling of a full diaper.

#permanent feminization #faggot boy #sissy crossdresser #give up your manhood #sissy blackmail #faggot sissy #feminize me #sissy domination #uk sissy diaper daddy #sissy diaper #daddy diaper sissy #forced diaper sissy #sissy diaper cuck #prissy diaper sissy #diaper bound #diaper cuck

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kpop---scenarios · 1 month

Text

Dark Book Series (1) - Masked

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

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

Word Count: 5.4k

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

@ayyonoona

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

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

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

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

“What?” She snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I am.” She says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just your type.

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

“Felix.” He laughs.

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile, slowly shaking his hand. You were so mesmerized by him, you couldn't look away.

“Y/N…” Your friend, Jennie, urges, grabbing your shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go.” Jisoo whispers, pulling on your other hand.

You smile at Felix, walking backwards with your friends, still staring at him as he smiles, watching you walk away. From that moment on, you knew he'd be yours.

“That was fucking weird.” Yujin says, laughing. You can tell it's her uncomfortable laugh, she didn't like him right off the bat.

“It was hot.” You say.

“You're a psychopath.” Yujin shivers.

“He was just trying to protect me. And you, Jennie and Jisoo. He's not a bad man. I don't know why you can't just look past that.” You huff, grabbing your clothes from the dryer. “Look, I gotta go. Felix is waiting for me. Just please try to give him a chance?” You half smile, leaning in for a quick side hug, hoping things between her and Felix would get better.

A few weeks later, Jennie, Yujin and Jisoo had finally agreed to go out with you and Felix. You were so excited that all your favorite people were going to be in the same room, getting to know each other and hopefully finally getting along.

“I don't know why she doesn't like me.” Felix sighs, the two of you sit in a quiet pub where the music isn't as loud, people are calmer and the atmosphere is a little more relaxed.

“She will babe, I promise.” You smile at him, grabbing his hand. “Tonight she'll see how great you are.” You finish, leaning in for a quick kiss.you hear the bells on the door ringing, along with loud chatter. You can already tell it was your friends coming in. You turn around smiling and waving them over to the table, you and Felix already were sat at.

“Hi guys.” You smile as they all sit across the table from you two. “What's going on?” You ask.

“Jennie was just telling us about Hyunjin, she thinks he's going to propose.” Jisoo giggles. Your mouth drips as you grab her hands.

“Oh my god! That's so exciting!” You shriek. “Aw, you'd make the most beautiful bride.” You gush. You glance over at Felix, who's smiling, watching you with your friends.

“Sorry babe.” You laugh. “I’d officially like you guys to meet Felix.” You say, pointing to him. “Felix, this is Yujin who you sort of know, Jisoo and Jennie.” You say, pointing out each one. Felix stands up, shaking each one of the other hands, Jennie and Jisoo giggling as they look at him, but Yujin is straight faced, giving him a little smile.

She was going to be tougher than you thought.

“What do you guys want to drink?” You ask. They all give you their drink orders, Felix slides you his card with a wink, as he begins to talk to your friends, Jennie and Jisoo already immersed in the conversation as Yujin sits back with her arms crossed, observing the interactions.

“Hi.” You smile at the bartender. “Can I get 3 vodka crans, one vodka and sprite, a rum and coke and then 5 shots of tequila please?” You ask, setting down Felix’s card.

“Need some help, darling?” You hear a deep voice from behind you. You smile, turning around, expecting to see Felix but instead you're met with the face of a man you don't know.

“No thank you.” You say politely, grabbing a few drinks, taking them to your table and heading back to the bar for the rest.

“You sure? A pretty girl like you can't do everything yourself.” He winks.

“I'm good. Thanks.” You say, grabbing the rest of the drinks. The man grabs your wrist, holding you in your spot. By the time you look up at him, Felix has already gotten up and made it to you, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it off of you.

“She said she was good, man. Take the hint.” Felix says, taking a few drinks from your hand, and moving out of the way for you to go first. You blush as you make your way back to your seat, Jisoo and Jennie giggling at the interaction that just happened.

You didn't notice Felix turning his head to glare at the man, but Yujin sure did. A few hours later, Felix gives you a long kiss, heading to the bathroom, while you girls drunkenly gush about anything and everything.

“Thoughts, feelings, concerns?” You ask, as soon as Felix is out of ear shot.

“I like him!” Jennie exclaims.

“Me too!” Jisoo smiles.

“I don't like him.” Yujin yawns. “He's fake. He's acting and I don't fucking like it.” She snaps.

“You're never going to be happy for me, are you?” you sigh, feeling slightly defeated.

A few minutes of silence later, Felix wanders back from the bathroom, rubbing his hand along your back. “You ready, baby?” He asks, letting out a yawn.

“Absolutely.” You smile. “Thank you girls for coming out tonight. Let's do it again soon!” You smile, but give Yujin a little glare before you slide your fingers in between Felix’s.

“It was really nice to meet you guys. Thanks for a great night.” Felix smiles towards all three of the women. Jisoo and Jennie wave to you both, while Yujin keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd say that went well.” Felix smiles at you, as you both pass the alley on your way home. You don't have the heart to tell him what Yujin said.

“I think so too.”

The next morning you woke up to a few missed calls and texts from Yujin. You open one eye trying to focus without closing your eye, until the headline she texted you catches your eye.

“Man Found Dead Outside Local Pub.” You read.

You dial Yujin's number, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you wait for her to answer.

“Did you read the article?” She asks, answering the phone.

“Yeah?” You say. “Who is that?”

“The guy from the bar!” She yells. You crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Felix as you shuffle to the bathroom.

“What guy?” You ask, quietly closing the bathroom door.

“The one that came up to you when you were getting drinks.” She harshly whispers. “He was murdered. Just like June!”

“Okay? So there's a killer out there. Honestly Yujin. I appreciate you looking out for me, but this really is getting tiring. You don't spend time with him like I do. You don't know him.” You sigh.

This shit was giving you a headache.

“I'm just trying to protect you!” She yells.

“Seems like the only person I need protecting from is you. You're trying to ruin what is probably the best relationship that I've ever had. Enough.” You snap, ending the call.

After that day, Yujin had gotten to Jennie and Jisoo, and their once fondness for Felix, turned into hate awfully quickly, and you hated it. You truly did not understand where they were coming from. He didn't hit you, he didn't yell at you and call you names. He treated you like a princess, listened to you, cheered you up, he baked for you. He was everything you ever wanted and more, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let your friends ruin this relationship for you. So you stopped going out with them, you responded to calls and texts but not in the same way you did before. Your responses were dry, responding with the bare minimum answers and you knew they knew that you were disappointed but they were still your friends and you were still going to try to get them to see Felix the way you did.

“I just don't get it.” You whine to Jennie and Jisoo. “You guys loved him when you met him.”

“He was great…he might still be but like… Yujin had some really good points too. It's only been like, what, 5 months of the two of you dating and two people that have come into contact with you have died?” Jennie says.

“It's kinda crazy.” Jisoo adds.

“So is thinking that Felix is the kind of man who goes around murdering people.” You scoff. “That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”

“Is it?” Jisoo asks.

You let out a long sigh. You were so frustrated with how they were acting but unfortunately you weren't able to control the way other people react.

“Come on.” Jennie smiles. “Yujin is waiting at the bar.” She finishes, pulling your hand. Felix had gone out with some of his friends, which had led you to deciding to go out with yours, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it.

And you did.

“Y/N!” Yujin smiles, standing up to hug you. She was surrounded by four men when the three of you walked into the bar. “I'm so glad you came. I've missed you.”

You smile back at her.

“I missed you too.” You say, wrapping your arms around her, hugging her back.

“Come, sit, meet some people.” She murmurs, pulling you down beside her.

“This is Yunho, San, Hongjoong, and Mingi.” She says, pointing to each handsome man sitting around the table. You give them each a small smile and a wave, feeling uncomfortable, almost like this was set up, for you specifically.

“So, Y/N.” Mingi smiles. “What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I uh, working at an accounting firm.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink. “What about you?”

“How's that? Fun? Boring?” He laughs. “The four of us are in a band.” He smiles, motioning between himself and the other three.

“That's cool.” You respond, trying to catch the attention of Yujin.

“Would you… Maybe wanna get out of here? Go somewhere more private to get to know each other?” Mingi asks. You raise your eyebrow as you stare at him.

“What did Yujin tell you this was?” You ask.

Mingi laughs. “To be honest, she thought we would mesh well. This is like a blind date… Isn't it?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, sliding your chair back, standing up and walking towards Yujin who had moved down towards Hongjoong. “Seriously?” You snap, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She asks, trying to play innocent.

“Don't. Don't do that innocent act shit. A blind date, Yujin? Really?” You respond.

She throws her hands up in frustration. “Would you have come if I told you?” She asks.

“Obviously not.” You spit.

“Exactly! There's better out there for you! You just needed to be shown.” She smiles.

“I'm not leaving Felix for Mingi.” You say. “He seems lovely, but I'm happy. Why can't you get that through your head?”

“Because!” She yells. “How can you be in love with a murderer!?”

“I can't. I can't do this with you anymore.” You scoff. “I'm just done.” You finish, walking back to your chair to grab your bag. “I'm sorry Mingi, it was nice to meet you but I have to go.” You smile, grabbing your bag and walking out the door.

Yujin called and texted apologies everyday. For months. And you didn't respond to any of them, you were too mad and frustrated at her to respond calmly.

“Another text.” You sigh, looking down at your phone.

“Babe.” Felix pipes up. It had now been 3 months since you had spoken to Yujin. “I think you need to forgive her.” He says.

You look up at him, shocked. “What?”

“It's been months. How many times does she need to apologize for what she's done? She's your best friend.” He says.

“Yeah… but she set me up on a blind date, Felix. How could she think that's okay?” You ask.

“Because she's being protective of you. Like I am. Was I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I understand where she was coming from? You bet.” He says. “She'll come around.” He smiles.

“What if she doesn't?” You ask.

“Then we'll make her.” He winks.

A few days later, you're sitting in Yujins house with her. All the crying, hugging was finally finished.

“Okay.” Yujin, sighs. “I know what your answer is probably going to be. But I'm going to invite you anyway because I love you and I hope you'll come.”

“Okay?” You laugh, raising your eyebrow, curious about what's going to come out of her mouth next.

“I'm having a Halloween party next weekend. Costumes, drinks, games, the works. I really hope you'll think about coming.” She smiles.

“Oh!” You exclaim, laughing. “That sounds fun! Felix loves Halloween and dressing up.” You laugh, pulling out your phone to text him.

Yunjin sits there silently for a second, you can see her face sort of contorting as she thinks about how to put her next sentence as delicately as she can. You already knew what she was going to say. It had been 9 months now, and she still didn't like him or trust him.

“Actually, I just meant I'd like you to come. I'm sorry, but he's not invited.” Yujin whispers, twiddling her thumbs together.

“Yujin. Did we not just have a whole episode of working things out?” You snap.

“Yeah we did and I'm grateful for that because I've missed you. But he's still as fucking weird, intense and controlling as he was that day!” She snaps. “You deserve better! But you keep getting with these fucking losers.”

“Controlling? You've met him like twice, and put in no effort, except to judge him. He's not controlling.” You sigh.

“Then why don't you ever come out anymore? We used to do fun things all the time.” She pouts.

“Because of you! And your lack of consideration for my relationship.” You snap. “If you had a little more respect for me and Felix, then maybe I would.”

“Yeah, sure. It's not him at all.” She scoffs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go. Text me the details for the party. I'll think about it.” You sigh, getting up off the couch and heading for the front door.

You already knew you'd be going to the party. You knew Felix would be joining you, and you were all going to have a great fucking time.

The next weekend, you showed up to the Halloween party in a full Harley Quinn costume. You thought you did an amazing job on the costume, and by your friends' reactions, they thought so too.

“I'm so happy you decided to come.” Yujin smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Me too.”

“So what's the plan?” You ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“It's just gonna be us four for a few hours. We're gonna pregame until the party starts around nine!” She grins.

“That sounds perfect.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Jisoo!” Yujin calls out, you, Jennie and her gathered around the island in the kitchen, waiting for Jisoo to come downstairs.

“Should I go look for her?” Jennie asks.

Yujin sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She was done like 30 minutes ago, I don't know why she isn't down here already.”

Jennie leaves the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. You and Yujin are chatting about nothing, when you hear the start of a scream before it's cut off. You both look at eachother, walking forward, very slowly, your arms linked together.

“Jennie?” You call out, in a semi whisper. “Are you okay?”

You hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. Jennie rounds the corner, but she's not alone. Someone in a mask stands behind her, a knife placed to her throat.

“Jisoo? Did you completely change your costume?” Yujin laughs. “Scared the shit out of her, I didn't you?” She says to Jennie, who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She's trying to hold in her sobs as the person behind her cocks their head to the side.

Yujin realizes quickly that it's not Jisoo under the mask. “Who are you?” Yujin asks. “What do you want?”

No answer.

You and Yujin stand there, breathing heavily as Jennie mouths pleas to the two of you, begging you to help her.

“Just step away from h…” You begin, stepping forward. The knife is pulled away from her throat, she breathes a sigh of relief, hunching over as she tries to catch her breath. The person grabs onto her hair, yanking her back up before plunging the knife through her back, the tip poking out of her stomach.

“No!” You and Yujin scream in unison, watching your friend have the life taken from her.

She gasps and gargles as the knife is ripped out of her body and shoved in again, and again, and again, until she can no longer stand. The masked person shoves her lifeless body to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and each wound, the blood pooling around her body on the floor.

Screams erupt from you and Yujin, tears spilling from your eyes. The two of you go through the double doors to the living room, both of you frantically trying to find your cell phones. Jennie's body is dragged into the living room, streaks of blood left on the floor as she's dropped near the two of you.

“Why are you doing this!?” Yujin screams. “Where's Jisoo!?”

The masked person walks towards you two, turning towards the closet in the hall, pointing there.

“No, No…She's dead.” You gasp, crying a little harder.

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!?” Yujin screams. You let go of her hand, walking towards the faceless person. “Y/N!” Yujin screams. “What are you doing!?” She panics.

As you get closer, the person begins to lift the mask, and you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend.

“Felix?” She gasps. You turn around, looking horrified that it's your boyfriend. She was right.

Of course she was. He walks up behind you, placing the knife against your neck as he places a small kiss on the side of your neck.

“Please don't kill her.” Yujin cries.

“Oh.” You laugh, wiping away your tears. “He's not going to kill me.” You giggle, taking the drenched knife from his hands.

“Hi baby.” Felix whispers in your ear.

“W-what is happening?” Yujin gasps.

“You know, Yujin. I got really tired of you accusing Felix of being a murderer.” You laugh. “Even though you were spot on.”

“She was.” Felix laughs. “You should have been an investigative journalist or a police officer.”

“So he did kill those people! And you knew?” She asks, her face contorted into a disgusted look.

“Yes, and yes.” You laugh. “Your constant nagging was getting really annoying. So when I approached Felix about an idea I had, I knew he would be totally in.”

“You planned this?” She asks. “We're supposed to be best friends!”

“Yeah, supposed to be. But you just couldn't let me be happy! You really have no one else to blame but yourself.” You sigh. “But I also had a condition. Felix had to leave you…” You pause.

“Thank you… thank you… I'm not ready to die.” She sobs.

“Oh, honey, no.” You laugh. “He had to leave you for me.”

“What?” She whispers. You grip the knife in your hand, walking towards hers.

“If you had just left me alone this whole thing could have been avoided.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder with one hand, forcing the knife into her stomach. She stares at you with wide eyes as you push the knife in a little harder.

“Oh baby.” You laugh. “You were right, this is fucking exhilarating.” You groan. You pull the knife from her stomach, ramming it in again in a new spot as her body begins to collapse.

You pull the knife out, your hand covered in blood as you drop the knife, watching Yujin slowly dying on the floor. She tries to speak but blood pours from her mouth.

“That was so fucking hot.” Felix groans, pulling you towards him. He plants his lips onto yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Your bloody hand moves down to his crotch, feeling his already hard cock, growing even more.

“Fuck me.” You murmur.

Felix guides you to the couch, pushing you down onto the floor, your stomach laying on the couch. He flips up your skirt before quickly unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his cock. Felix rips your tights open in the back, kicking your knees apart to spread yourself more. He spits into his hand, gliding it up your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. Felix pumps his fingers a few times before he pulls them out, lubing up his cock with your juices. He quickly and harshly thrusts himself inside of you, grabbing your neck and squeezing. He pulls you up against him, his hot breath hitting your ear as he rams his cock inside of you.

“Did it feel good?” He groans. “Shoving that knife into her?” He gasps as you clench your cunt around him.

“So fucking good.” You cry out, reaching down between your lips to rub your clit.

“You looked so fucking sexy doing it.” Felix grunts, ramming his cock into you.

His hand tightens around your neck, squeezing harder, making you gasp for breath.

“I fucking love you so much.” He groans, fucking you harder. “Cum, baby. Cum.” He grunts. You move your fingers faster on your clit, your orgasm coming quickly.

He releases your throat, making you cough. “Fuck. I… love… you.” You scream, cumming hard onto his cock.

Felix grips your hips, thrusting into you harder and faster, cumming right after you, filling you all the way up.

He pulls out of you, tucking himself away before he helps you up, grabbing the knife from on the floor and bringing it to the kitchen. He slips it inside the backpack he stored in the closet, setting it by the door.

“Get ready to cry, baby.” Felix grins, grabbing his phone. You make your way to Yujin's body, sprawled out on the floor, forcing your tears to come.

“Help! Please help! Our friends were murdered!” Felix cries into the phone. “We're at 44776 Roadway Lane. Hurry!” He cries, hanging up the phone.

“Ready to put on the performance of a lifetime, baby?” He grins.

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” You smile, leaning over Yujin's body, forcing the tears from your eyes to fall as the sirens get louder and closer.

“Police!” They yell from outside the door.

“In here! Please.” You scream. The police rush in, seeing your distraught face hovering over your friend as Felix cries in the corner of the room.

“What happened?” One of the officers asks, pulling you away from the body.

“W-we… were having a Halloween party.” You sob. “The five of us… we were going to drink a little before it started later. Someone broke in… started stabbing them… we hid in the closet until we heard the person leave.” You cry.

“Do you have a description of the person?” The officer asks.

“No. We didn't see the person. The person was wearing a mask. And then we hid.” Felix cries.

“I'm so sorry.” The officer sighs. “Let's get you two checked out.”

Felix stands up, holding his hand out for you. You grab his hand, whimpering into his arm as the officer guides you out of the house. Felix grabs his backpack, and you both walk down the walk away, hand in hand, leaving the crime you committed behind you.

#straykidsland #felix smut #lee felix smut #serial killer #felix #murderer felix #dark book series skz #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz #stray kids #blood #gore #murder #smut

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Note

Does someone older JK spoil the OC sometimes? Like surprise her with something which he considerd to be nothing it would mean so much to her?

Oh he does, ALL the time! Warnings for a bit of angst, beginnings of a panic attack but Kook handles it well

"...we can go there again, maybe before new year's if I can get a table on short notice." He simply says as he drives you both back to his place, radio playing quietly in the background.

You're still a little overwhelmed.

He does things like this a lot- expensive dinner dates in restaurants he either knows or wants to try out, randomly buying you clothes or jewelry he finds online and deems pretty, or he just changes things in his house to adjust it more towards you and your preferences. Like the pillows in his bedroom, the by now multiple pairs of thick socks for your cold feet, or the baking supplies he bought for you now stacking up in his kitchen.

It's things like that you're not used to. In the past, it has always been you who needed to adjust and do things for your partner- not the other way around. So now, you feel almost guilty whenever he does something- like a bank account draining, slowly going further and further into the negatives, red numbers piling up and making you anxious as to when he'll want it all payed back.

"Did you not like it?" He wonders, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort as he pulls up on the expressway. "You don't have to lie." He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.

"No, it's not that." You deny, letting him warm up your cold fingers. "It's just.. it was a little expensive, no?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"Was it? To be honest, I don't think it was considering what we ate." He just brushes off. "I've been to steak restaurants that were a lot more expensive and half the quality. And the service was great too, so I didn't mind." Jungkook explains, and it's now that you realize once again that you and him live in quite different worlds. Or at least, used to.

For him, money isn't an issue. He's made and is making enough of it to live comfortably, he doesn't have to really worry about running out of it anytime soon, even if his company was to go bankrupt next week. And he's also got enough saved up, has invested with good tactics in mind, so it's really no wonder he doesn't see a problem in spending the amount that he does.

But you aren't used to that. You have been living paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left over at the end of the month, needing your bonus desperately as to not fall behind on any payments you have to make regularly. You've lost your apartment before, had to sleep at friend's places to get by, and even ate only at the company cafeteria to save money usually spent on groceries. All of this feels almost excessive, and you also worry.

What if Jungkook starts spending too much on you? He shouldn't fall into a habit of mindlessly throwing money out.

"What's on your mind, darling?" He wonders, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, before he changes lanes.

"I just.." you fidget a little. Jungkook isn't a bad guy. He won't get mad. He won't scold you. You won't have to endure being lectured for the rest of the ride- you know all this, and yet again, the past haunts you and makes your breathing pick up as you begin to chew on your lip.

Suddenly, you realize he's pulling up to a gas station, parking on the side. He gets out to get something from the backseat, before he walks around the car to open the passenger door where you sit, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Here." he offers the bottle of water, having opened the cap for you. "Put your legs out like that- there we go. Breathe baby." He gently tells you, squatting down a bit to make himself look smaller. "Take your time."

You feel embarrassed. How do you explain to him that you were feeling like a kid about to confess a bad grade just now?

"We can keep it a one-in-a-month thing, maybe, if that makes you more comfortable." He proposes. "I didn't take into account that it might be overwhelming to you- I'm sorry." He apologizes, but you shake your head, looking down at your knees.

"I just.." You mumble, unsure how to really explain. "I feel.. back then, you know.." You sigh, having trouble finding the proper words. "Talking in the car makes me.. anxious." You admit. "Because you know, when you get mad.. I can't escape.." You say. "I can't get away from it."

Jungkook kindly takes the bottle away from you to put it on the backseat again, before he's back in front of you.

"Thanks for telling me. I had an idea it might be that, but I wasn't sure." Jungkook says, hands on your knees. "I promise you I'm not mad. And I'm in no position to be mad at you for having opinions or personal taste that might differs from mine. We're two different people-" He chuckles. "-of course we'll have different views on things."

"But I really liked the dinner too." You say. "I just.. I don't want you to start.. spending so much money on me to the point of, I don't know, losing sight of it." You confess. "And maybe, we should keep stuff like this a bit rare? So it doesn't become routine. I want to keep it special.." You say. "I'm not.. I don't really know much about this stuff, because I never had enough money to go to these fancy places, and get designer clothes, or plan vacations in different countries and all that. I feel.. stupid sometimes?" You spill, making him lean his head a bit to the side. "Like, what if you one day take me to a company gathering or something, and someone asks me something and I can't answer or I say something dumb-" You rant. "-or maybe you won't ever take me because I'm too young? Maybe Eve is right and I'm not really the kind of-"

"Baby, darling, stop-" He chuckles, pushing your shoulders back a bit to look at him. "-take a good breath. You're panicking." He worries a little, but tries hard to stay composed as to not make you spiral any further. "Eve is wrong. If you're okay with this, of course I'll take you to company events. Why wouldn't I show off such a beautiful women at my side? I'd never pass up a chance to make those stuck up geezers jealous." He jokes, making your crack up a little. "Let's keep the dinners to special occasions. Keep it special, like you said." He offers, holding your hands now. "And I'm also.. the fact that you worry about me makes me feel.. very special." he chuckles. "I appreciate you looking out for me."

"I always look out for you.." You mumble. "..I just don't want to overstep any lines. You know. Since you're older than me-"

"Just because I'm older doesn't automatically mean that I know everything better." He reassures you. "Our age gap has nothing to do with any sort of power balance. Please don't think you can't speak your mind just because I was born earlier than you."

"..okay." You nod, and he leans forward to peck your lips, before he closes the door for you after you pull your legs back in and buckle your seatbelt, him getting back into the driver's seat to do the same.

"You know.." he starts, as he pulls out of the gas station to continue the drive back home. "..I'm really falling in love with you." He chuckles, dimples of his cheeks showing with how hard he smiles.

"Huh?" You wonder, taken aback by the sudden confession.

"I mean it." He nods. "I really am."

"I'm glad then." You admit. "..cause I am too." You admit, making him grin before he reaches over to hold your hand again.

Knowing that he really won't ever let you go again.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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queenpiranhadon · 6 months

Text

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting (((again) again) again), we have this :) I’ll be honest though, I have mixed thoughts about this. Nova, I owe you my life for beta reading this ily girl (@that-multi-fandom-hijabi) Go follow her writing acc! (@novaaaaaa-writes) Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of blood, reader's a baddie, reader used to work for Azula, bad depictions of firebending, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, some people might be ooc idk 😅, thoughts about death (like once), lots of buildup, reader is a good cook, reader owns a restaurant, reader sets a table on fire, both of them are very attracted to each other lmao, reader refuses to fire bend, I kinda head cannoned, basically if a firebender doesn't firebend of a certain amount of time, the fire inside them builds up and can damage the wielder, like clogged pipe in a way, love at first sight (?), slowburn kinda, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.

Pairing: Sokka x Firebender!Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴇᴇʟ ʀᴏʟʟꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It was safe to say, you were screwed. Traitor to the Fire Nation and all.

“Ugh…” you grit out, patting your side in discomfort, pulling your hand away to find sticky blood.

It was safe to say that Princess Azula wasn’t too happy to find out you didn’t approve of the current ideals of the Fire Nation. Alas, you were too far deep into her scheme to leave then, and you were now- but this time, you ran away.

You weren’t going to find the Avatar- joining him would only make things harder on yourself- especially since he and his friends most definitely hated you for all the stunts you pulled alongside the son and daughter of Firelord Ozai.

So you were left with two options. Sit in the dark and disgusting alleyway you were hiding in and bleed to death, or find somewhere to stay, patch yourself up, and bunker down with a new identity.

If there’s one thing the Fire Nation would underestimate about you- it was your will to live.

The journey to the Earth Kingdom was torturous, your aching feet would be screaming in overexertion, yet you pushed on. Solitude was your only solace, though the lack of social interaction guaranteed nothing would stop the onslaught of dark thoughts entering your mind, it was comforting to you that you were finally free to make your own decisions without anyone else influencing them.

You reached the gates of the Earth Kingdom battered and bruised- the month of so that you traveled for changed your appearance quite a bit- your hair slightly longer and the numerous different climates you had suffered through allowed your hair to settle into gentle waves. You got thinner, lack of food turning you into a near skeleton, but the muscles you had trained your whole life remained, and you were stronger than ever. Obviously, the guards didn’t recognize you, letting you pass without a hitch under a fake name.

You found a kind older woman in the outer ring of Ba Sing Se, who offered you take you in for the night.

There, you enjoyed a soothing bath and a good meal, and she was pleasant company. You slept on the couch that night, and left early the next morning, leaving a few gold coins as a subpar payment for her hospitality.

And then you were on your own again.

Days passed, and then months, you worked almost every job under the sun as you finally scrounged up enough money to open your own store.

It was a nice and quaint restaurant, and you worked your blood, sweat, and tears into it- and that was a statement, you rarely cried. Not anymore anyways- experiencing so much loss does that to people.

You called it the Unagi- your restaurant known for its excellent soups and eel rolls, both of which were comfort foods growing up. Even though you vowed to start a new life, and throw your old one behind, you kept this part of your old life with you. You stopped bending, not a single spark or flame left your fingertips after the day you left the Fire Nation.

Months passed, 7 to be exact, and you had built quite the reputation in Ba Sing Se- travelers from all over had some solely to try your food, and they were not disappointed. Your cooking prowess as a force to be reckoned with- and you enjoyed in immensely. For the first time in years, you were happy.

Of course, rush hour was the most overwhelming experience you had ever had to experience- as you refused to hire anyone to assist you run your shop- your trust had run thin, and you weren’t going to risk the product of your hard work to anyone. Eventually, you learned to keep all your ingredients preprepared- and then cook them in your soups and put them in your rolls the morning of each day, so that they were all fresh and it was less work for you. All your customers were understanding, and respected you for your time and work. People loved your story- a stranger and a traveler with basically next to nothing, and then turned your life around in just a few months.

After a few months, you practically knew all the gossip in the city- always overhearing the snippets of murmurs from your customers. Usually, you paid no mind to them, but today, what you heard stopped you in your tracks.

“Did you hear?”

“Yeah! The Avatar and his crew were spotted at the gates this morning!”

“Do you think Ba Sing Se is in trouble?!”

“I hope not, after what happened in the Northern Wa-”

You stopped listening after that, going back to the kitchen with the blood roaring in your ears. You stirred the soup you were making with a new intensity, as it your life depended on it. Dread pooled in your stomach- if the Avatar and his friends came around the Unagi, you were done for. The Avatar would recognize you, the only one to have seen you without the normal mask you wore- and the only one out of the group you had met.

You sighed, deciding to ignore the fear you felt. Months of peace wore down your guard a little bit, and you were used to forcing your body into a state of ease after the first few weeks you had stayed in the city- nightmares plaguing you day and night. They were gone now, thankfully, but if the Avatar and his friends destroyed everything you worked so hard to maintain, you might break.

Fortunately, weeks went by without a hitch, no sign of the Avatar, and no sign of the Unagi being burnt down.

One day, on a relatively quiet day, you hear a few voices outside.

“Here Sokka, Toph, take some gold and treat yourself to some food, I hear this place is really good.” A female voice says, she sounded around 14-15 years old. “We’ll meet you back in the square- bring some for the rest of us.”

You don’t hear much of what the girl says afterwards, opting to resume taking orders. That’s when you lay your eyes on the boy in front of you. He had a wolf’s knot, something you knew to be common in the water tribe. He had the build of a warrior, toned muscles littered with scars that you knew weren't achieved easily. And his eyes, a brilliant shade of blue you thought you could get lost in, a pleasant contrast to the red of the Fire Nation you would be tied to for the rest of your life.

It takes you a few minutes to realize you were staring, and a few more to realize that he was too. You cough into your fist awkwardly and look away, realizing you had company.

The young girl next to him slams a few pieces of gold onto the counter, but you, unlike the boy across from you, didn’t flinch – you were used to it. “Whaddya got for us, lady?” she asks in a brash tone, but you weren’t intimidated, nor were you offended, but the boy you were staring at earlier still apologizes on her behalf.

You chuckle lightly, it amused you to see the energy in the two of them as you respond to the girl’s question. “The gold can get you some soup with some salmon, along with eel rolls, on the house.” you say, smiling lightly.

The boy’s eyes light up in excitement, though he seemed a little older than you, there was no mistaking that childish enthusiasm for a nice homecooked meal.

“Can I get your name?” You ask, grabbing your notepad and quill to write down the order.

“Sokka” he says, with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, and you can’t help but grin at his antics. It’s been a while since you felt like this. You, giddy over a crush? The feeling was a little foreign to you, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“And you?” he asks, leaning slightly over the counter. You reciprocate his movements, telling him your name and telling him and his friend to take a seat.

Sokka and his friend, Toph, left shortly after, taking their soup to go and devouring their eel rolls. It was late now, you were sweeping up the floors, planning to leave and close the Unagi in an hour or so, before something unexpected happened.

You feel a sharp pain in your chest collapsing to the ground, your insides felt like they were burning, invisible flames eating away and you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, mind raging and all you could see what red.

Why was this happening to you?

You felt your body flare up in pain, and all you wanted was for it to stop for it to go away.

“You will always be a part of the Fire Nation. “Azula had told you, with a manic look in her eye. “No matter how long you try to suppress it, your inner fire will never be satisfied. One day, your fire will turn against you, your body won’t be able to handle it anymore, no matter how strong you think you are. Let’s face it, you’re a monster, just like me.”

You didn’t hear the jingle of the door opening.

Letting out an anguished cry, you thrust out your arms, cerulean flames setting one of your tables on fire.

And staring at you, through the blue flames, were those sparkling eyes you loved so much. Staring at you with disgust and horror.

“Sokka, oh my god-” you say, in shock.

“Who are you.” he cuts in, his eyes sharp and cold.

“I-I swear, I’m not with the Fire Nation anymore, I-” You stutter, your throat closing in. You stumble back, staring at the flaming table with a horrified look in your eyes.

Sokka looks at you, unsure of what to do. You were the enemy, you were a firebender, one who could wield blue flames. Yet... he knew you were telling the truth. You were the same person who kindly gave them free food and didn’t turn them away even with Toph’s brashness.

He sighs, and looks around, before turning back to you. “C’mon, let’s go find my friends. My sister’s a waterbender, she’ll put out the fire for you.

You just stand there numb, your body still reeling from the aftershocks of feeling so much pain. You didn’t realize you were crying until Sokka walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, letting your tears soak into the fabric of his shirt. He strokes your hair lightly and holds you close. He smelled earthy, a musk that reminded you of the scent you smelled after it rained, all natural and grounding, soothing your worries.

“I’m here.” is all he says, and you stand like that, Sokka’s frame blocking the blue flames from your sight- a barrier between the life you live now, and the one you left behind.

BONUS:

After Sokka and you find Katara and the others, you put out the fire- Aang recognized you immediately, but Sokka vouched for you, saying that you didn’t ally with the Fire Nation anymore, and that you were trustworthy. And then, once you guide them to the back of the store, where your living quarters were, you and Sokka were alone again.

“Hey Sokka?” you ask, the boy in question looking at you with his full attention. “Why were you at my shop in the middle of the night?”

Sokka chuckles sheepishly and looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes. “I may or may not have been craving those eel rolls of yours.”

You snort, and you look at him with a teasing smile on your face. “You still hungry?”

It was safe to say neither of you got much sleep that night, up laughing and throwing rice grains at each other.

#sokka atla #sokka x reader #atla sokka #sokka avatar the last airbender #sokka #the gaang #gaang #avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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