#no sir i will not she's not worth that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 2 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐙 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Everyone knows you are Toji's favorite stripper. So, it's no surprise that he'd want to have you to himself for a night at the V.I.P. section, not that you're complaining.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x stripper fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sex at a public place; strip club V.I.P. room - kissing/making out - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking + heavy depiction of a blowjob - slight anal fingering (f! receiving) - orgasm denial - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - sir kink - reverse oral + backshots positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - cameos: Miguel, Mei Mei and Ino (stripper, manager and DJ) - mentions of spit/saliva.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yesssss, finally, a piece for toji !! this was based on a request/scenario that had me thinking about this prompt a lot afterward, so I'm glad I got the time to go more into the story with this c: enjoyyyy !!

“Toji! Back here like you said?”

“Yup, just as promised. It’s Saturday, after all.”

“Mmm, I see. Right this way, please; Lady Mei is waiting for you right there..”

Tonight is Saturday night, the middle of the weekend. How Toji spends his weekends comes and goes, depending on how much cash his pockets are willing to withdraw. Luckily, his stacks are ready for whatever this night has in store for him. And since he’s walking down in a strip club right now, you can guess he’s prepared for something grand.

Saturdays tend to be one of the busiest nights – if not Fridays. The vibrating bass from the speakers could be felt in his bones, music getting people bumping and grinding by the DJ booth. Crowds swarm the bar to grab their drinks – and perhaps flirt with the bartender – as the special menus catch their eyes. And, of course, the wolf whistles and exclaimed shouts of men and women fill the open area where the dancers give the clients a night of promised fun.

Toji’s guided by one of the male strippers to the back of the club that transitions to the upstairs. By the stairwell, he sees a woman with silverish, pale-blue braided hair, wearing a white cold-shoulder blouse and a long black pencil skirt that emphasizes her hips nicely. Lilac eyes flicker in his direction, and her red lips curl into a smile.

“Thank you, Miguel.” Mei Mei greets and dismisses the male entertainer in the same breath, watching him bow and return to his business, leaving the woman with Toji. “Well, well, well. I’m sure you’ve been waiting for this moment all day.”

“Ever since ya called me this morning, Lady Mei.” The older man refers to her by her business name with a smirk and a tilt of his head. “So, they’re on board?”

She nods. “That would be the reason I gave you the call, no? The money you brought goes straight to them after this, and they said there’s no need to tip them extra.”

He snickers. “That I can’t promise; I always gotta tip my favorite girl for their service. They treat me right, and I do the same.”

“Good service means good tips, Mr. Fushiguro. Please, follow me; they’re waiting for you.”

As far as clubs go, this one was undoubtedly one of Toji’s spots to come to. Here, he can trust that he can have a good time and get his money’s worth with every visit. Good drinks from the bar from that Nanami guy; that rookie DJ, Ino, who likes to humor the older man whenever he’s off his set; and all the entertainers who know of Toji from his frequent visits, all good people that ensure he’s relaxed and welcomed, whether it be service from them or chit-chat on the side between sessions.

But let’s not beat around the bush here; Toji won’t lie and say he doesn’t have favorites — or else why would he be here? There had to be a reason this bulky man comes back for more, and having him known as a loyal customer by the staff of this place and their clients.

The reason is that out of all the people here, Toji does have a favorite. This favored person is who’s making this man willingly follow the manager up the stairs and walk through the hallway. Only those worth his respect and time could have him do that.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been up here, so let me re-specify,” Mei Mei speaks, ignoring the faint howls of men and women from behind the doors they walk past. “This is V.I.P., meaning people pay extra just to have the room to themselves and my dancers. The rules downstairs apply upstairs…Well, except for today with—“

“Me and them, right?” See? He's listening.

Mei Mei hums. “You two are scheduled for two hours. Food and drinks can be brought up here, but absolutely no messes whatsoever. I don’t care what you two do in there — all I ask is that you two clean up after yourselves.” She stops at the last door of the hallway on the right. “And as for you, since no one is up here to get in the way of you two, no breaking stuff. You break it, you pay for it.” She pauses when he nods.

“I won’t.” Forest green eyes stay on her as a dark brow rises.

“Especially on my girl tonight.” Lavender orbs narrow faintly. “I don’t want to see so much as a scratch on them. Otherwise, your account won’t be the only thing I’ll have dropped in the negatives. Am I clear?”

“Crystal. Not doin’ anything they don’t wanna do.”

A curt nod to his response, extending her hand out to him. “Their cash?”

Without hesitation, Toji slings the bag he carried on his shoulder to hand to the manager. She holds and unzips it to check the contents, and the smile on her face gets bigger before she peers back at him.

“Enjoy yourself, Mr. Fushiguro,” she zips the bag and excuses herself before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be too rough.” Toji eyes at her slender fingers sliding away, and the clack of her heels drew further and further away, clicking on the stairs to join the lively bunch down below.

Toji’s eyes examine the door before him but can’t seem to fight the sneer molding into his face. He cracks his knuckle and neck before taking a moment to himself for a deep breath. There’s something in this room that ignites his excitement before it can skyrocket, and it gets a little difficult to contain it once he turns the doorknob.

The V.I.P. rooms are all set up the same: to his right was a single booth seat from one side of the room to the other, a circle table centered by the furniture. The ceiling lights can be dimmed or dialed up, but the ones here were dimmed to a warm glow, which was pleasing and subtly set the mood with the soft white LED lights behind the booth. And the temperature felt just right, prompting the older man to remove his jacket.

Although he appreciates the change of atmosphere, Toji doesn’t mind what mood the room is set in — because he didn’t come here for that. He came for whatever caught his attention the moment he walked in. The smirk on his face brought the scar on the right side of his lips upright.

To his right stood a mini stage where a silver pole comes from the center to the top of the ceiling; the light from the mounted full-length mirror on the wall casts a silhouette of something slinging around the pole. Or better yet, on someone. Alas, the person he’s longed to see this entire night is before him. Y/n, Toji’s favorite stripper, was in his sights.

You maneuver around the pole and drift your limbs through the air. Elegant motions perceived by Toji alone, daring not to say anything until you noticed him. And when you do, your eyes lock in on him, and your lips twinge into a smile. Fate was sealed, and the evening for you two had finally begun.

“Toji,” he loved how you said his name. You skillfully transition from a recliner move to a pole sit. “You made it; worried you’d have cold feet on me.”

“And miss seeing you tonight?” He strides in your direction before throwing his jacket to the booth seat, his feet stopping at the steps of your stage. He takes this chance to observe what you picked to wear tonight, elated knowing that you chose one of his favorite looks. “Not a chance.”

Your makeup was the first thing that caught his eye; pink and blue eyeshadow blended perfectly well and compliment your skin, aided with glossy lipstick that entices him. There were rhinestones added at the corner and lids of your eyes, making them shine more with the lighting. Since it’s just the two of you tonight, you opted to show more skin than usual. You wore a white, long-sleeved mesh shirt that had your chest area open, exposing the black laced bra that hugged your breasts nicely. White fishnet pantyhose that comes to your upper thigh, gartered to your lacy, black underwear. And to complete the look, transparent ultra-high heels. You were dolled up — just for him.

Your smile broadens — the brightest thing in the room to him. “That’s so sweet. Please take a seat and let me warm things up, okay?” And you continue back with your routine, swinging on the pole in the ballerina move. Your movements were effortlessly beautiful. Captivating to watch you operate your body around the item and your hand gracefully float around the air as you swing.

But then you come to a stop, finding that Toji is now on the stage and taking your hand in his. Emerald eyes instantly capture yours as his fingers intertwine with yours.

“No need to warm up,” he says in a low tone, as if the music around the room wasn’t already lowered enough for you two to speak normally. His face inches closer to yours, and your breathing becomes slow. “I’ve been waitin’ for this all night.”

His abrupt change was kind of shocking as he’s never one to switch up your procedure. But you don’t take it to heart because you understand, offering him a small smile before your eyes drift to his lips coming to yours. “Impatient much, huh?”

“That’s what happens when ya spoil me all the time,” he jests before a hand comes to your cheek, bringing his lips to yours for an awaited kiss.

You two kiss with slow pecks, waiting for someone to make the first move. And Toji’s the one to do it, licking your bottom lip and playfully nibbling it. You titter faintly, opening your mouth to permit him to insert his tongue inside and play with yours. And you moan to him when he sucks and teases yours with his teeth.

Toji’s hand on your cheek goes to the back of your neck, wanting to keep the kiss in contact. And you follow suit, carefully placing your hands on his shoulders one by one from the pole. To hope you don’t fall, his other hand comes to your back for assistance. Yet your legs are still tightly wrapped around the metal pole.

He breaks the kiss to see for himself, chortling at the display. And you beam at him, using your finger to drag his raven bangs along his forehead. “Spoiling you, huh?” You inquire, kissing his nose. “With how this night is set up, we’ll have to see who’s treating who.”

He liked the sound of that. “Two hours to make it count, then.”

You wink. “Two hours.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“—Mmph…! Hoohh, fuck, that tongue…keep swirlin’ like that…”

“Nnmm…enjoying yourself there?”

“Heh, keep teasing’ me like that, and we’ll see what happens, Y/n…Hmmm…”

Toji sits on the booth seat with his denim-clad legs spread out for you to crouch in between. Your hand snakes inside his shirt; the dent of his abs is sensed by your fingertips. And the free one is gliding up and down the exposed erection that’s out for your very eyes to see.

Oh, fuck, this was a sight to see: crouching in front of your favorite client, having his cock in your very grasp. The limb is so big and girthy that it drives you crazy just marveling at it, and the twitch of your chasm below refuses to calm down. Every slow pump urges a bit of precum to slip out the urethra, and you gasp faintly at the contact of the substance staining your pretty nails. Shit, from his veins to the delicious tip, it’s been so long since you’ve seen a dick this oddly gorgeous.

Hell, it’s been a long while since you’ve given head. And, holy fuck, it felt too good doing it right now — especially with a dick as mouthwatering as Toji’s. You started with slow licks to the cockhead and kisses to the frenulum, evoking hushed grunts from the older man; sounds you love entering your eardrums, pushing you to want more. Slow laps gradually lose to adventurous curiosity as you take in every inch of his length til the hilt meets your lips, humming at the sensation of him filling your throat.

You suck on his shaft with glee, swirling your tongue on the underside with every bob to the mouth. And your hand still moves to please him, your fingers eventually finding his balls to give them a knead. A hiss leaves scarred lips, and he grabs for the top of your head. Oh, he’s definitely loving this.

“Hshhh, shiiit, just like that, baby,” the pet name makes you mewl; he said it so hot. “Fuuuck, y’re so good.”

“Mmmm…Phuaa!” You release his girth from your lips, attacking the sensitive head with teasing licks, rubbing the limb on your face while placing chaste kisses. God, he loved how beautifully dirty you were being. “Hnnmm, yo’ thwink so…?”

Talking with your mouth full results in a laugh from Toji. “Fuck yeah; barely hangin’ on right now…Oh shit,” he shouldn’t have said that because you kiss his shaft down to his balls, sucking one into your mouth to have the man almost choke on his spit. “Hmng…!! Oh, shit, shit, I’m gonna cum, mama. Take me back in, Y/n—Ahhh!”

No can do! Because you immediately remove yourself from him, standing on your toes and walking backward. Observing the genuine staggered expression on Toji has you giggling, making him sneer in return. “You fuckin’ tease.”

“Come on now; you gotta do your part as well, you know.” You turn to crawl atop the stage, your hands on the pole while swaying your ass to the side. You know he’s watching, feeling his green eyes boring holes into your being. Knowing you’re being desired like this turns you on even more.

Toji wastes no time, marching towards your ass with a hungry grin. Rough fingers come to your underwear, bringing it down with ease, biting his lip at the wet display of your cunt. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty thing, huh.”

You titter, shivers crawling up your spine when his thumbs spread your folds to expose your bare vagina. You grab hold of the pole for preparation. “Please be delicate with me.”

He blows on your cunt, and you take a sharp breath. “After that lil’ stunt of y’rs a few seconds ago? You better hold on to that thing tight.” Toji gives your wetness a tantalizingly slow lick, taking in every shudder of your body. “Hnnm, taste good…”

His hands find your waist and then stuffs his face to your ass, his lips and tongue going to work and sucking in your liquids. You cry out, gripping the pole as soon as you feel a flick to your clit. Your eyes instinctively shut, and your arch elates to bring your butt closer to him.

Toji’s strong hold on you aids him in making sure you don’t get away from him; your soapy slit is right where he wants it, and he doesn’t plan on letting go. His tongue hurries through your labia, and your essence coats his tastebuds. You moan out loud at the feeling of the muscle pushing to the entrance, your hips jerking with his nose bumping close to your taint.

“Ahaaa, ohh Jesus, yesss,” your words come out in pretty wails. “Yess, Toji, ‘eel so good…”

He hears and gives you another taunting lick from your clit to the vagina. This time, he notes your ass jolt when he comes close to your asshole. And he can’t fight his mischievous soul, bringing his tongue ever so slowly to it for you to gasp and realize what he’s doing.

“W–Wait, no, Tojiii!” You whine. Fuck, you sounded so cute. “Not there, please…!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” He brings a thumb to lather it with spit before pressing it to your anus. The choked sob erupting from you has him tingle, pushing the digit further in. “Don’t want me playin’ with this?”

“—Hnnff! Noooo, stop, that’s—Mmmm!” Goddamn, how could someone look so good while whining like this? Oh, he could never get enough of you before. Now, this little infatuation for you could dwell into an obsession if you keep batting your hooded eyes at him like that. “That's dirty…!”

He shakes his head with a prurient leer and trenched brows. “Don’t worry, angel; I like dirty.” You gulped. That’s not what I meant! “Be dirty fr’ me, ‘kay? Wanna see it all...” Toji brings his face back to your southern lips, sucking and licking in an excitable fashion that has you trying so hard not to scream (even if the walls are supposedly soundproof).

It’s here that you give up and have your face meet the floor of the stage, sinking into the feeling of Toji ravishing your cunt to feast on your come entirely. You can shake and try to move your hips all you want, but it won’t work; Toji will instantly shut you down and shove his mouth right back to your folds. And with his thumb scraping the walls of your tight asshole, chewing your lips does nothing to suppress the haze.

“Hohhh, hnmm, oh my God, Ohhh…!” A hand finds its way to Toji’s wrist, holding onto it to prepare for what’s bound to happen. “Haaah, I’m about to cum…Please, like that, keep going…Oooo!!”

Nope. He doesn’t let you off the hook, withdrawing his face and thumb away from you, and the climb of your promised orgasm dissipates in seconds. You turn to him with an albeit hurt expression, expectedly being met with a smug look on his handsome face. “Hahhh, so mean…”

“Oh, I know y’re not talking, sweetheart.” Toji removes and discards your underwear somewhere across the room, giving your bare ass a playful smack to which you faux cry in pain with laughs. He then picks you up bridal style and walks you back to the couch, your face gently placed on the furniture with your buttocks up in front of him. He brings the tip of his cock to kiss your labia. “Ya ready?” You nod to him hurriedly with bitten lips of glee. All he wants to do is grab you by the chin and kiss the hell out of you. “Nice and slow fr’ ya, sweetie.”

Your breath hitches at Toji’s glans being pushed into you, using your slick and his saliva to lubricate himself for easy access. Your hands grip the booth seat with every push of him, and you gasp loudly at the insertion of his tip. The subtle pain declined in mere seconds before being raptured by the sensation of his girth stretching you. Your body quakes by the time his pelvis meets the flesh of your ass, unable to contain the pants of air leaving your lips.

Toji moves his hips tremendously slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Holy shit, it’s been a while having a living, breathing dick inside you. The indistinct dents grazing your entrance with every push and pull, the veins scraping along your inner walls ever feels so fucking good, and his tip jabbing so deep inside you. Jesus Christ, you can’t blame your slit clamping onto him; he feels so good!

“Hmm? Ya like that, baby?”And Toji can tell, grinding his hips, stimulating a shaky howl. “Y’re grippin’ on me like crazy.”

“Ahhaaa, fuhuuuck, you feel so good, Toji,” you hum, gnawing on your lips as his pace goes faster by the second. Yes, yes! “Ohhhh, ’m so full…!”

He comes down to lick on the helix of your ear. His voice being so close to you has you clamping onto him harder. “Fuuck, that grip…Just stay like this fr’ me, all nice and pretty. Can ya do that?”

“Yesss, sir.”

Oh, that title sparked something within him. The snicker to your ear had you swooned. “Keep callin’ me that.”

You giggle softly. “Of course, sir—Rrryahhh!!” He didn’t warn you when he started bucking his hips unexpectedly.

Strokes to your cunt became quick, the sensation of him becoming rushed for your senses to comprehend after each thrust. The sounds of skin smacking against each other fill the space between you, and the heat transferring from your warm bodies is given in quick exchanges.

It doesn’t take long for your head to be thrown into a daze, your eyes shot up to the stars with every jab to your sensitive spots. Restraint is held by a thread, finding it strenuous to keep your voice down to a respectable volume. Your fingernails leave crescents on the booth seat beneath you as Toji drives his length into you.

“—Ohhh! Fuuuu, oh shit, Tojiii, slow d—Owwhhn!!” He slaps your ass, an action you couldn’t foretell, and prevent a shriek from leaving your mouth.

“Not ‘Toji’ right now,” he corrects you, grinding his pelvis again to scrape your walls to the point of wails. Gripping your ass like a toy, “What do you call me?”

“Mmmph!! I’m sorry, sir; forgive me…!” Another smack and the pain stings the skin to the point your eyes water.

“Good girl,” he’s satisfied, coming down to place kisses on your shoulder and travel down your back.

Toji straightens at the sight before him, taking in every detail of the situation. Having his favorite stripper be a whimpering mess for him: your mouth agape for cute sounds to fly out, the motion of your ass cheeks bouncing with every rut of him, and his dick digging into your alluring body. Fuck, if only he could take a picture of this. But thankfully, he still has another hour and a half to go — an hour and a half to indulge himself more with you. He paid good money for this, so he’ll make it worth every cent.

“Hey, mama,” he comes down to cup your face with his right hand, bringing you in for a hot kiss. You happily reciprocate, allowing him access and sucking his tongue with a mewl.

The kiss has him drink your high-pitched huffs while his tempo increases to an irregular speed. Your eyes screwed shut at the pacing; the feeling of his girth filling you so much is fucking crazy. Your head begins to pound with the heat that spreads across your face, and your brain gradually churns to mush as you can sense the climb of your climax.

“—Shhhiiit, oh shiit!!” You pule with the trembles crawling up to your shoulders, a tiny streak of drool coming down from the corner of your lips. “F–Fhhh, I’m gonna cum, sir! Please, let me cummm…!”

“Hhhck!! Fuck, me too,” he confesses in between kisses. “Lemme finish here...” Toji sneaks a hand down to your lower region, his forefinger grazing your clitoris that was left unattended throughout this time. Until now. “Cum on me, angel. Let loose…”

The rough pads of his fingers swipe on your clit; your eyes widen at the action and force you to break the kiss. Your moans come out from his swipes and pinches on your delicate bud, and the growth of your orgasm ascends tenfold. Oh fuck, it’s coming, I’m— “Ohh–Ohoooo!!”

And then it hits you; the walls of your cunt clamp around Toji tightly, making the older man groan at the fluttering contraction. So engulfed with how good you feel that it prompts him to spill his load into you. But he doesn’t stop jerking his hips, smacking his cock into your sensitive chasm until he knows every drop of his ejaculation is pumped deep inside you.

Toji brings his body down to your heaving one, your breathing synced with his as you two let your pleasurable highs subside. When things feel as though they’ve calmed down, he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck and place kisses while rubbing your ass. You hum to his touch, deep exhales seeping through your nostrils.

“Mmmm, that was good,” he says to your skin before lifting his face to examine you properly, removing his length from your cunt and watching the trail of his come ooze out. “Heh, fuck that’s crazy…Ready for another round, sweetheart?”

Of course, you laugh at that. “Well, sir, if you’d like to go again, please be sure to use the condoms this time. I wouldn’t like Mei Mei to come here and murder us for not cleaning after ourselves.”

He lifts a brow. “Condoms?”

You point with your chin to the table at the booth center, noting the silver tray that displayed items for this occasion. Towels, water bottles, and, of course, packets of rubbers that were meant to be used.

Toji blinks, and then a fit of laughter bubbles inside him. “Well, now I know. But I don’t see the point since I already fucked you raw. Already spoiled the fun for ya.”

You shrug with a smile, standing up to grab the towel to wipe yourself. “Boss’ orders.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he obliges with a kiss on your cheek before he shifts to lie on the couch. He discards his jeans and drawls, spreading his strong legs to showcase his member standing strong. He pats on his thigh, “Get y’r cute ass over here.”

You beam at him, grabbing for a wrapper and tearing it up to release a condom. “Yes, sir~.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“And so? You two cleaned up everything?”

“Yup, made sure it was all clean and neat the way it was before.”

“Good. Because I had a meeting in that room this morning, and neither my client nor I would like to have the smell of sex fill our conversation. Or seeing a condom wrapper on the floor.”

“Hehe, well, I hoped you checked under the seats. He’d probably be sneaky enough to kick at least one down there.”

“Oh, you’re such a little…” Your manager doesn’t finish that sentence and hits you on the head with a makeup brush, resulting in a strong laugh from you.

Tonight was the following night after that event. You’re now in the dressing room, adding finishing touches to your make-up before you can go out to perform for the last day of the weekend. Mei Mei was with you, helping you fix yourself since she likes to help her performers feel at the top of their game. Also, as your friend, she wanted to hear the details of what transpired last night.

“That man, I swear…” She says while looking at you through the vanity mirror, surveying your last touches to your brows and eyelids. “I knew he was whipped for you since the first time you danced for him. Now that you two finally did the deed, I can only imagine how much he’d do for you…Ugh, I’ll need to hire security specifically for him.”

The remark has you laughing some more. “Oh, stop it. I’m sure he knows better than to flip this place down.”

“Hmmm, you sure about that?” Silver brows go upward. “Considering the fact that we’ve had multiple close calls with him and other customers, scaring your clients when they’re not out of his seat – not to mention breaking someone’s arm for you – it’s not far out to imagine this man throwing shit and bodies all over if someone so much looks at you, especially now that he got his dick wet. Oh, he’s smitten.”

You shake your head throughout her explanation with a smile, knowing that it’s all semi-true. “Guess that’s men for you, huh?”

“Don’t I know it.” She scoffs, using this small time with you to braid her hair into two pigtails. “…You do like him, right?”

The question doesn’t take you aback, not showing any expression of shock while continuing to fix the straps of your pink bra under your mesh shirt. “Yeah…I think so. He’s one of my—“

“One of?”

You roll your eyes at your manager egging you on. “Okay. He is my favorite client. I think he’s a good company; plus, he pays a good amount of money to see me.”

“Oh? Was it the money that’s always made your heart thump? I wonder…” Mei Mei doesn’t try to suppress the smirk growing on her face, aware that you’re meekly glaring at her. She grabs for your lipstick to apply to her lips. “Maybe it never was because I can recall you telling me how hot you found you the first time. Hmph, maybe now that’s dialed up since you’ve been slapped with some good dick—“

“Okay, okay!” God, you couldn’t stand her sinister chuckle, precisely when it’s directed towards you.

“I’m just teasing~. I’m happy that you two are getting along, really.” She straightens up to examine her whole figure now that she’s done. “But he’s still one of my customers at the end of the day, and you one of my people. Money on the table or not, I won’t tolerate if he does anything to inconvenience me or you.”

The sincerity in Mei Mei’s words wasn’t hard to grasp. After all, she was doing what any good boss would do. As well as your friend above anything else. And you appreciated it. “I know. You’ll be the first I run to if stuff goes left.”

The silver-haired woman gave a genuine smile and nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder to clutch before excusing herself from the dressing room. “See you out there; I have another meeting with a priest from the other side of the neighborhood.”

You gawk. “A priest? Is he here to be serviced?”

“Nope, but if he keeps getting in the way of my business, I just might have to make some phone calls and endow my other services to deal with him.” Your blood shifted to ice cold at that sentence. Mei Mei is your friend by all means; however, that didn’t diminish how scary that woman can be sometimes.

She opens the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone to finish up. You stand up from your seat and maneuver around to admire tonight’s outfit choice. A mesh shirt that showcased your pink bra and black pantyhose that contrasted with your pink undies. Now, all you need to do is go to your locker and find whatever shoes to match and—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Yo, Y/n?” It was Ino’s voice. He doesn’t come inside the room but creaks the door for you to hear him. “Sorry, but someone wishes to speak with you.”

Huh, someone wants to see me? “Oh, okay. Tell them to wait for me by the door.”

“Sure thing!” And then the young DJ closes the door, and you decide the shoes can wait for later. Giving yourself a look or two in the mirror, you walk up to the door and pull it open to see who wishes to see you. Only to find that the person is standing in front of the doorway.

It was Toji, standing tall and greets you with a smirk once you entered his vision. The mild anxiousness from a few seconds was gone, exchanging it for a smile. “Hey,” he said it cooly.

“Hi,” you return the greeting, watching him step closer to you to lean against the doorframe. “You just got here?”

“Mhmm, didn’t have much to do, so I figured I’d come before things are about to pick up.” Toji brings his face to yours, daring to give your lips a peck. And you allow it, kissing his scar when he draws back. “I thought last night was fun.”

“Me too,” you whisper back to him before he kisses your neck. “I’d like to have fun like that with you sometime. You know, not during business hours and such.”

He quirks up a brow. “Yeah? Hmm, me too.” He puts his forehead to yours, his hands snaking around your waist to bring you two together. “I’d love to have you around somewhere.”

You hum, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. “That’d be nice.”

“…But I’d also love to fuck the hell outta you like last time.” His honesty has you erupting in laughter, and your sweet voice has him grinning. “I’m serious; you drove me crazy last time. Pussy like that can’t be shared, I’m sorry—”

“Oh, my God, stop!” You try to get out of his hold, even if your laughs get louder when he tightens his grip on you. “Drove you crazy, huh?” You peer to see him nod before kissing his chin. “Well, I got a few minutes before I go out there…Want me to suck you off?”

Did you even have to ask? The man immediately leers from ear to ear, taking your wrist and pulling you back into the dressing room. And you allow him with a laugh, making sure to lock the door before the thought of getting caught fills your mind.

“Good thing you caught me dressing,” you say as he sits on the couch from across the dressing room, and you crouch between his legs. You pull down his zipper, “This one’s free of charge.”

And he shifts comfortably, taking off his jacket to discard. “Lucky me.”

6K notes · View notes

satorena · 10 days

Text

❛ UNPROFESSIONALISM ! ❜

⟡ content warnings. explicit content. foul language. ceo!satoru. secretary!reader. mentioned past flings. fondlīng. fīngerīng. afab!reader. p in v. unprotected. brēēding. squīrtīng. gojo satoru is his own damn warning. 4.9k.

⟡ serena's note. oh if y’all knew the lengths i went thru just to post this damn fic. . .

“ugh, this is such a painnn!”

“the sooner you finish your paperwork, the sooner you’re off, sir.” you sigh, arms crossed over your chest. you’re used to your boss’ childish antics by now, having worked side by side with him for nearly a year. you check the time on your watch, “work ended about half an hour ago— you might want to hurry up.”

“but y/n!” he drags out your name, voice all whiny and pitched in a telltale manner. he pushes himself off away from his desk, chair rolling back from the impact as he lolls his head back. “this shit is sooo lame. didn’t i hire nanamin to take care of the boring stuff? how come he isn’t here handling this god forsaken load of terrorizing agony?!”

you click your tongue, clutching tighter at the clipboard in your hold. you wonder if he’d been dropped on the head as a child, his lack of self-awareness so painful it makes you reconsider if the check at the end of the week is ever worth it. “he’s scheduled the week off to keep his wife and newborn in check. he signed off about a month ago.”

he snaps his head up so quickly, you’re positive he’s gotten whiplash. gojo blinks at you through big blue eyes and snowy lashes, a dumbfounded look on his face. he lifts his index to scratch at the corner of his lips, and cocks his head to the side, “ahh. . . ‘s that right? wait— nanamin’s a dad?!”

you feel the vein in your head inevitably tick.

“sir,” you let out an exhausted sigh, completely baffled by his ineptitude. he must purposely choose to do this to you, there’s simply no other explanation. “we attended his wife’s baby shower a few months ago—the one you mistook for a bachelor party and had me escorting the escorts back home.” you lift your pointer finger, brows cinched as the memory burns into your mind. he tilts his head to the side, affirming the idea of his cluelessness even more.

you raised a second finger, “we showed up to the hospital to congratulate them on their baby— and you got them that ridiculous cutout board of yourself that sings when you press on the—”

“the button on my dick, yeah!” gojo cackles as if it’s the funniest story ever, as if you hadn’t need to dump a bucket of water on the cutout figure to get it to shut up before he could get his company sued for emotional distress.

you huff, the stressful reminder of that unfortunate day having you anxiously tugging at the hem of your skirt, “yep. that’s the one.” between the baby’s obnoxious cries and exaggerated mecha-gojo moans, you’d rather not think about that encounter.

“and this whole time i figured she was his sister,” gojo snorts, wiping a faux tear from the corner of his eye. he sighs when his laughter dies down, and pulls him chair back into his desk. “man, his wife’s a babe. guess that explains why she looked at me all crazy when i called her fine the other day.”

“you sure that’s the only reason?” you mutter under your breath, the insult flowing off your tongue so naturally that you couldn’t help stopping it, even if you wanted to. that man was all kinds of deranged, his ego and head much bigger than it needed to be.

“ouch, that’s mean, doll.” gojo pouts, clutching at the material of his blazer above his heart. the back of his free hand lands on his forehead as he dramatically leans back into his seat. his eyelids shut tightly, “you’re wounding me. ‘m too young to die. i can’t go on like this— tell my mother i loved her. sign off my will for me, wouldya? make sure to terrorize nanamin some more. oh, and empty out all my search histories. wouldn’t wanna ruin my reputation. and get rid of my porn magazines beneath my bed. ‘ve got some pretty nasty stuff there. and check up on my kid every now and then. and—”

“alright, alright. i apologize.” you cut his rambling off before it spiralled into something far worse. there’s a full headache throbbing at your temple, your feet ache from your heels, and your stomach rumbles in hunger. you’re ready to go home now, but that won’t be possible unless your big man baby of a boss finishes up his task. “i’m sure you’ve a very suitable man. many would be grateful to have you. my apologies, sir.”

he peeks through an eye, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. his beaten-puppy look is quickly replaced by one you know far too well now— the look he gets after beating his rival company in terms of stock. the look he gets after successfully shitting on his higher ups. the look he gets after getting you to cum on his fingers after a long day— you’ve stroked his ego. “i’ve trained you well, princess. always flattering me, ohh, however did i get so lucky?”

whatever have you done to get so unlucky? “time’s ticking, sir. you can’t afford to pick up megumi late from practice again.”

“nanamin’s wife might be a babe, but you’re a gem, y’know?” your boss entirely ignores you, leaning his elbow onto the pile of work he’s now completely erased from his existence. he leans his cheek into his palm, fingertips tapping at the side of his head. “one helluva girl. i mean it— i really lucked out with ya.”

you cross your leg over the other, shifting your hips over the suede material of his couch. you recognize the sultry undertone to his voice, and your clear your throat, “is that so?”

gojo chuckles, flashing you all thirty two teeth, “i mean it’s not everyday you find a woman with your patience. god, you must be in love with me or something.”

you roll your eyes, despite the small smile that creeps up on your lips, “that’s certainly not why i stayed,” which wasn’t entirely true, but it’s not as if you haven’t inflated his ego enough today. “you may be a handful but your pockets sure are generous.”

“wouldn’t kill you to make a guy feel good about himself from time to time, ya know?” he fiddled the black pen between his fingers, twirling the object from knuckle to knuckle. he pauses when you don’t answer, noticing you noticing his finger movements. and so he proceeds with a smirk, “you’re always so tense all the time. . . tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been properly fucked?”

you nearly lose the grip on your clipboard at his audacity, the question throwing you off guard. though, you quickly keep composure— a fierce facade that’s always labelled you as the calm and collected kind. though, you’re doubtful it worked against your own boss.

“that’s an unprofessional question, sir.” you grit through teeth, nails scratching at the wooden back of your board. highly hypocritical of yourself, as you’re absolutely no better than he is— having already opened a window of no return that fateful night you accepted his invite to come inside his home.

“pretty sure we’re past unprofessionalism.” he pushes himself off of his desk, rising to his feet. your eyes trail his movements, from the index finger that hooks at his tie to loosen the knot, to the cock of his head to the side that has his hair bouncing, to the sound of expensive shoes clicking with every stride closer to you.

his presence can be oddly intimidating at times— you’ve noticed while working with him for a while. there’re moments like whenever he steps up on a podium in front of thousands of people, or when the elevator doors slide open and presents him to the building. despite his childish antics, he exudes an aura so enchanting that serves as reminder of that at the end of the day, he’s the boss.

you swallow, eyes following his lean figure until he stops right before you. it’s hard to read him in moments like these, when he’s so unlike himself (or maybe finally truly himself). his hands sit in the pockets of his slacks, legs parted enough to entrap your own legs between his, as he tilts his head forward. his irises darken behind tinted shades, bangs curtaining the raise of an eyebrow.

“unprofessional?” he repeats, and your eyes narrow at him, subconsciously gripping at your board tighter. it’s the only thing that you seem to have control over, since it clearly wouldn’t be this conversation. “you mean like that time i had you creamin’ all over my fingers in the back of my car? or unprofessional like that time you bent over my desk and came all over my face? or was it that night when i had to tie your hands together to keep you from runnin’ away?”

your gaze flickers away from his, the heat of embarrassment creeping from your neck all the way to your face. he wasn’t wrong— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in closer to kiss you instead of pushing him away.

“we’re still at work.” you quip, the last bit of resolve tattering away the longer you feel his eyes on you. your roll your ankle nervously, thighs tightening against another.

“work ended half an hour ago sweetheart, remember?” he reminds you, voice as taunting as ever, and you sure as hell don’t need to see him to know he’s smirking. right side of his lips pulled with a moon crescent dimple on the side— he’s making fun of you. “forgettin’ already? can’t have my adorable secretary so overwhelmed that it’s meltin’ her brain. that should be my dick’s doing only, of course.”

you click your tongue, eyes casting back up to stare him dead in the eye. naturally, he’s already meeting your own, with the same damn smirk you’d predicted, “you have paperwork to finish, sir. better get on that quickly.”

“oh?” he laughs at your command, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest at his hips. he runs his tongue against the top row of his teeth, and you hate the way your mind instantly travels back to days prior when you’d once had that same tongue working in and out of you.

he hums in faux thought, tapping his index against his chin. his lips fall into a pout before instantly stretching back to its default state, his infamous smile, “i suppose you’re right. come help me finish then, hmm? teamwork makes the dream work.”

you’re skeptical— you know him too well, but you’d rather divert the focus of attention from you to those papers. anything to prevent your mind from wandering off further into endless unprofessional possibilities. “lead the way, boss.”

he curtsies dramatically as you rise to your feet, stomping over to his desk. you notice he’s got shit done, and you’ll most likely be here for a minute. and so, you stand next to the chair he’d abandoned and pick up the pen, waiting for him to sit so you both could get started.

only you should’ve known you’d fallen right into his trap the minute you agreed to his ridiculous offer. you feel him pressed up behind you, lurking over your shoulder to study whatever you had going on. he’s unreasonably tall, frame so large it has you feeling frail in his presence, and his cologne so strong you feel it already clouding your judgement.

damn it all.

clicking your tongue, you tilt your head to the side to narrow your eyes, “well? are you not going to sit?”

gojo blinks at you, “how come? i enjoy the view here much better anyway.”

you roll your eyes, before turning back to his desk. he was a complete idiot if he thought you hadn’t already anticipated his next moves. the more your wrist flexes, mumbling the words you read on your sheets as you write them down, the more you felt him. you could feel the back of your thighs meeting the from of his, you could feel his bulge rubbing at your ass, you could feel his warm breath fanning at the slope of your neck.

damn it all.

“sales have risen to a—ahhn!” your pen falters in your grip, scribbling on the white sheet as it hits the desk. your eyelids shut close, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as a warm mouth kisses at that sensitive spot behind your ear. your palm lays flat against the surface of the table, side by side with gojo’s, body tensing as his mouth trails down lower.

“oh you bastard,” you mutter, shaky hand attempting to grab the pen in an unsteady hold. his chuckle rumbles deep from his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your back. you’re determined to stand your ground, despite the urge to push your hips back into him. he may have soft lips and an annoyingly hot voice, but you would not falter— no matter the moisture of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

you think you have it set in stone, the pen in your hold— albeit unsteady— despite his large hand creeping up your thigh. every trail of his touch leaves an electrifying feeling, and you’re sure he’s noticed your trembling knees if the way he subtly slid his leg in between yours to keep you steady said anything.

it’s when you’re ready to scribble out your mistake to replace it that he decides to plunge his canines to your jugular. the moan that erupts from you is squeaky, your hand clutching tightly at the pen as your back arches into his chest from the painful pleasure.

gojo nibbles and sucks at your skin, running his tongue over the throbbing area to soothe the pain, fingers trailing closer to your now aching core. you’re positive your skirt has now hiked up with how much your hips are pushing back into his, head lolled forward.

“aweee, what’s the matter sweetheart? ‘s too much for you already?” gojo coos, sultry voice sending chills from the shell of your ear down to your core, finally slipping his hand inside of your skirt. his fingertips brush at your clothed clit, the material of your thong shamefully damp in arousal. you huff, nails scratching at his desktop when his index and middle finger rub painfully slow circles at your clit. “but we’ve barely done anything? tsk, can’t afford slowing the company down because you’re too distracted to focus.”

your thighs and arms threaten to give out, body heating with lust and desire. you want to say you hate this, that this is against your typical work ethics, to tell him to fuck off and do the work himself. but the focus on your pussy really has you melting puddle, bottom lip tugged on to suppress any louder sounds to escape.

“y-you’re the worst.” you complain, though it fades into another moan when he pushes his thigh up in between your legs. you’re internally thankful, because had this gone any further, you’re certain you would’ve sunken to the floor.

“love you too, pretty girl.” he presses a kiss at your jaw, fingers pushing past your panties. fuck any resolve you’d held onto— you chuck the pen far away, planting both palms down as you allowed him to take control. every rub of his fingers at your clit had you dripping down his thigh, to where your hips shifted and rolled down his leg, dragging out that blissful heat in your gut.

“givin’ up already? y’didn’t put much of a fight this time, can’t say i’m a disappointed.” his free hand grips at your thigh and trails up to your hips, resting at your flesh to guide you down his leg. he’s all too enthralled by your sensitivity, gaze zeroed in on your expressions— from the slackness at your jaw to the way your brows furrow.

“just h-hurry up already,” you grit, eyelashes fluttering as your eyelids lift. your gaze meets his instantly, and gulp at the hungry look in his eyes. his skin is already flushed pink, lips parted as he pants heavily. “you’re no—ngh, better than i am, dickhead.”

“well aren’t ya damn mouthy,” gojo acknowledged, though clearly unbothered, as his fingers pinch at that bundle of nerve. you gasp, cunt clenching as it leaks more of your essence down on him. your head drops back against his shoulder, the slope of your back curving as you grip onto the closest thing in your vicinity— the hem of his blazer. “hm, whatever happened to my obedient secretary? always so polite and respectful, don’t tell me i haven’t trained you enough?”

“m-maybe you haven’t,” you pant, chest heaving as you feel his fingertips teasing the entrance of your folds. they’re slow movements, applying just enough pressure to ignite the spark in your guts but not enough to leave you wanting more. “can’t even do your damn j-job right and you call yourself boss? hah, wonder if mister geto would have this issue— fuuuck!”

“low fuckin’ blow, sweets.” gojo chuckles darkly, now two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt. he wastes no time to plunge himself inside, knuckles rubbing at your velvety walls. you clamp down on his digits, desperate to keep him in for the sake of that orgasm you craved. “and here i was ready to put this pretty pussy in my mouth. you’re dickless for a few days and catch an attitude wimme? that’s cold, baby.”

“dickless?” you cock a brow, teeth gritting as you focus all your energy left on delivering your next line. he always got so cocky whenever he had a slight advantage. “a-according to who—ooh, god, shit!”

“ooh god, shit!” gojo mocks you, a third finger now joining the others. he scissors your cunt open, the slick of your arousal simplifying the slide in. you’re dripping down to his palm, so wet despite the front you’re putting up. he knows you love it whenever he angles his fingers at this angle, the one that has you knees weak and ready to fold. “face it sweets, i’m the only one who treats this pussy the way it deserves. see how well she responds to me?”

and you wish you could negate or deny him, but unfortunately, you both know he’s correct. he’s only got his fingers inside of you and you’re already at your limit. your hips eagerly chase his fingers whenever he pulls out just to thrust them back in, the pad of his thumb drawing infinity signs at your clit. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, knot in your tummy tightening from the stimulation.

“nghhh, ‘m gonna cum,” your hand slides down the slope of his forearm till where his wrist begins. you claw at the bone, clutching and grabbing at him eagerly. damn him and his damned fingers— driving you to mush with all six inches. “more, hah, need more— gimme more!”

“manners, pretty baby.” gojo coos at your ear, despite upping his pace. his hands reach all the right spots, pussy desperate to hold out to his fingers as they fuck your cunt open, soaking the digits in your slick. “c’mon girl, what’s the magic word? i know you’ve got it in you.”

“p-please! pleasepleaseplease—” you’re cut off by your own gasp as the dam in your stomach finally breaks. you leak on his fingers, squirting your juices as your muscles convulse, walls entrapping him in. your back arches away from him and you grasp at anything in your reach, your mouth gaped. you’re cussing like a sailor, vision blacked out beneath your eye lids as your hips twitch and stutter against gojo’s ruthless pace.

your high washes down, as you lose feeling in your limbs, falling face down to the desk. your skin is moist with heat, mouth parted as drool coats the abandoned paperwork beneath you. your body twitches with oversensitivity, thighs quaking as your last few spurts spray all over gojo’s thigh.

“don’t tell me you’re all worn out from a little foreplay?” your boss teases, his free hand delivering a blow onto your ass cheek. it recoils as you jolt, snivelling like a baby. you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, slacks falling next and pooling at his ankles. the next few moments happen in a blur, but sooner than you’d realized, you’d been turned onto your back with your legs propped over his shoulders and your folds were being played with again, the overstimulation having your toes curling in your heels.

“anddd there we go,” gojo strokes at his bricked cock, your essence serving as lube to coat his dick. he drags his fist from the base of his shaft to the tip, both your fluids and his pre cum mixture softening the jerk. “you fuckin’ water park. jeez, maybe i should plug this tiny cunt to prevent any further leakage, yeah?”

“fucking hurry already!” you don’t whine, or so you hope, though the grip of your legs at the back of his neck does tighten. with your skirt hiked up and your panties pushed to the side, gojo has a clear view of your twitching pussy, a hole designated intentionally just for him. he can already feel the cum in his balls ready to burst and fill your womb.

“and back to mouthy she goes,” he chuckles, using the leverage of his hand at his cock to slap his dick at your folds. the impact causes you to whimper, your hands clutching at the border of the desk. you wish you could wipe that smirk off his face, but fuck if the way he didn’t rub himself against you arouse you in ways that would surely haunt you after the orgasmic high faded away.

“take a deep breath for me baby, kay?” gojo instructs, thumb brushing over the skin above your hip bone, and before you’re able to retaliate, he slides in his dick.

his length is nothing to scoff at, and although you’ve already dealt with it in the past, all that prepping he’d done earlier seemed in vain. he bottoms out quickly, balls deep into you cunt. both your moans blend in harmony, overlapping one another as you settle with the aching stretch. your pussy clenches around his cock uncontrollably, both eager to push and pull him away.

“shittttt,” he whines throatily despite the huge grin on his lips. the flush pampering his skin has gotten significantly deeper, pale brows furrowed to the centre of his forehead. his hands grip at your plush thighs, fingers digging deep into your skin, surely enough to leave bruises. the bastard— he knew you’d be forced to wear your own slacks tomorrow to avoid suspicions.

“no fuckin’ way ‘m already set to bust— hah, fuck, what in the magical pussy is this?” gojo groans, snowy hair bouncing with his head thrown back. the tighter you grip at his cock, the tighter he grips at your thighs and the deeper his breaths are.

you push yourself up to your elbows, giggling at the irony of the situation. “already huh? so it wasn’t the liquor’s fault last time.” surely you were no better, entirely stimulated and body excreting all kinds of fluids from all over, but the ball was now in your court, and you planned on taking advantage. “s-should’ve known.”

naturally, he doesn’t rise to your bait, instead moving his hips away from yours, slowly dragging his cock out until the only part left in your cunt is his pink tip. “don’t make me make you eat your words, sweets.”

you raise your hand and rest it right above his pelvis, eyes set straight on his. you’re both clearly eager and ready to go, but you still had your dignity to uphold. you drag your palm upwards his torso, nails trailing up his button-up top teasingly before clutching at his tie. with the strength left in you, you yank him down and closer to you.

the shift in position stirs his dick in your cunt, knees now pressed closer to your chest. he hovers over you, a newfound look in his eyes you aren’t ready to divulge into—he was a very expressive man after all. both your lips ghosts one over another, breaths hot and mingling. you feel fuzzy, all senses fucked but collectively drawing at a same conclusion: wanting him to fuck your brains out on this desk.

“fuckin’ hell that was sexy.” it almost comes off a whisper, his tone breathless as his eyes bare deep into your. you feel the warmth of his hands fading away in favour to cup at your waist.

you tilt your head to the side, nose grazing against his. your fingers fiddle with the hem of his tie, despite never breaking the eye contact. “you gonna rock my world now?”

nothing more has to be said as he engulfs your mouth into his, knocking the wind out of you. his tongue explores the warm cave of your mouth, no inch left untouched. you moan and kiss him back just as eagerly, sliding the hand from his neck tie to his nape. your fingers thread through his soft locks, nails scratching his scalp and tugging at the roots.

he whimpers pathetically, the pain sending courses of arousal straight to his dick as his hips slam right back against yours. his thrust is rough and deep— leaving you gasping, as he takes the opportunity to kiss you even deeper while simultaneously working on his strokes.

the curve of his cock reaches even deeper than his fingers could manage, rubbing at your gummy walls and stretching them even wider. the sounds of your bodies connecting, your skins slapping, both your fluids mixing— everything felt so wanton, so filthy. he was everywhere, so far in your stomach you swear you could feel him in your throat.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

“s-shit, oh fuck— don’t stop, ngh, right there!” you begged, throwing your head back against the hard surface. you’d given up on trying to keep your eyes open, the intensity of his dick ramming into your guts so fierce, you’d never felt anything like it.

he takes a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a whiny exhale. you were driving him insane, your sloppy cunt greedily clamping on his dick as if it were its lifeline. “suckin’ me in so tight, shitttt baby, ‘s like you want me to fill this perfect pussy full of my nut.” he dives his tongue deeper into your mouth for extra measure. you’re in a turmoil of multiple emotions at once but you kiss him back— until your lips feel tender and your mouth tastes of his breath.

he was annoyingly intoxicating, whether you wanted to admit it or not. your body spoke every word you were ashamed to say, responding with his own almost too perfectly.

when he slips his thumb to toy at your clit, your toes curl in your shoes and you’re accustomed to the oncoming feeling all too well, nails clawing at his skin. your words come out all fumbled mixed with tongue and drool, “s-satoru, i— ‘m gonna, don’t you stop— fuck ‘s too much— hnng!” you pull away just slightly, eyes all dazed as they roll to the back of your skull.

“shit, oh shit, me too,” he swipes at the drool dribbling past your mouth. from there, he plants more kisses at your skin, nibbling at every inch of you. he’s rutting like a madman, pace unforgiving as he focuses on that same spot that has you mindless. he finds you prettiest when you’re this way— all obedient for him. “my pretty girl— where do i— fuck, where—”

“inside.” as if you’d wanted to kill him, just as quick the word left your lips, he emptied his balls in your cunt. he sobs, his orgasm wracking over his entire body as he slams and fills your pussy full of him. the mixture of sounds is downright sinful, and whether it’d been the focus on your clit or his inhumane stamina, you soon met your similar end.

you cream on his dick once more, legs trembling as your second orgasm washes over you. your mind gone dumb, you do nothing but lay as you take the pounding inflicted on your worn out pussy. with each stroke you see stars, breasts juggling at the match of his pace. it’s damn near painful, but in the best enjoyable way. you feel yourself getting fuller by the second as you spray more of your arousal onto him.

the high eventually comes down for you both, the room reeking of sex. you’re both panting heavily, muscles twitching from overexertion. you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been fucked to the point of a momentary blackout— but you’d be damned if you’d ever let him know. he was too busy crying over your cunt anyways.

after a moment of silence, “. . .shit.”

“what?” you hum tiredly, rubbing the back of your hand to your tired hands. god, you could barely muster enough energy to do just that. what did this man eat?

he skips a few beats, before sheepishly chuckling, the hand that’d once been tracing patterns at the skin of your thighs now moving to your side. your gaze follows his movements, and it’s only when he retracts his hand does your heart sink to your chest.

“we definitely fucked these papers up.”

. . . shit.

io baby.. if you ever end up reading this i did it :c

#stargirl★rena.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n

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lorethebookworm · 3 months

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YOU KNOW WHAT HAS GOT ME KICKING MY LITTLE LEGS AND SCREAMING MY HEART OUT THESE DAYS?

How not only the antagonists in Hazbin Hotel don't win but they ACTIVELY help the cause they are trying to destroy

You know Adam? That idiot was such a little bitch "yeah I can't wait to exterminate you guys so I'll come to hell sooner than expected:))))"

AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT CAUSED?

the threat of the extermination made charlie so desperate that she called her father which fixed their relationship, giving her a very powerful new ally, and also allowed her to have her meeting with heaven thanks to which the angels started doubting themselves only to be COMPLETELY proved wrong thanks to Sir Pentious. Who died saving his friends. Saving them from the troops that ADAM sent.

By being his cocky bitchy self Adam started a series of events that made heaven look like fools, proved our girl charlie right and led to HIS OWN DEATH

I'M GOING FERAL

ALSO I'm not forgetting our dear Vox, who sent sir Pentious to the hotel to spy on alastar and generally just to create drama AND INSTEAD provided Charlie & Co with a friend , a protector , someone who died for them AND PROVED THAT THE CAUSE THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR WAS GOOD AND WORTH IT!!!

#hazbin hotel #ah the irony #the hubris is hubrying my guys #I live for this #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel adam #vox #sir pentious #hazbin hotel emily #the vees #alastar #hazbin hotel vaggie #chaggie #husker hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust

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freedomfireflies · 4 months

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Infinite You*

Summary: The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.

(Based on this request! There is no third, just Harry and Reader!)

Word Count: 8.6k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Sir Kink

You’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive Harry Styles is.

Granted, that’s because you’ve never really allowed yourself to notice how attractive he is, but you notice today because that’s why you’re here. To notice. To study. To decide if this is worth it.

He’s not making it easy on you. Walking around the apartment with his shirt off, and his sweatpants low, and his hair wet. Reaching into the refrigerator and showcasing all the stunningly hard muscles in his back. The scattered tattoos. The chunky rings on his fingers.

You swallow.

You hadn’t planned to entertain this idea. You thought it was weird—strange in more ways than one. But you agreed to talk to him, see if it was a good fit, and now…here you are.

“So,” he calls as he straightens up and turns to face you. “What do you wanna know?”

“Uh…what do you want to tell me?” you call back. You wish you were smoother.

But he only smirks. He knows you’re nervous. And he knows you’re staring, which seems to amuse him. “Well, first things first, nothing happens that you don’t want.”

He’s kind. Considerate. Hot. It makes your stomach flip.

“Okay,” you say before swallowing thickly. “Great, I mean. That’s…that’s good.”

He walks back to the living room. He’s still amused. You’re still sweating. “If you do decide you want to, we can talk about ground rules and boundaries. Decide what you’re comfortable with. Go over when and where. Things like that.”

“Okay…okay, good.”

“Yeah. And if we don’t want to, we won’t.”

“Right.”

He takes a sip of his water. He’s hiding his smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope.”

He’s unconvinced. Hesitating a moment before crouching down near your legs and glancing up at you as though to implore you and chastise you all with the same look.

“Kitten,” he murmurs, and your heart just about beats out of your chest. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to be honest with me. That’s one of my rules. I need you to be vocal. Tell me exactly what you want and what you don’t.”

And you understand. You do. Consent isn’t a question. And you admire that he’s so adamant and unwavering. But that doesn’t mean you know what you want to say.

“I know,” you whisper, and his presence is different. Before, he was Harry: Rebecca’s boyfriend.

Now he’s Harry: the guy you might sleep with.

And it’s strange, and it’s new, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense. And you’re having quite the time trying to wrap your head around it.

But his presence is soothing. Calm. Doing more for your nerves than you initially realized.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, reaching a hand toward your knee. Long fingers squeezing it once. Comfort. “We’re just talking, yeah?”

You nod and force the first question out of your throat. “Do you…do you guys do this a lot?”

“No,” he answers coolly. He’s relaxed, and it helps. “Not with friends. Not really at all. Not unless it’s right. We don’t force it. If we find someone, we find someone.”

“Ah.” You nod again like you understand but you don’t. “And…you guys are both okay with this? Really?”

He smiles. Squeezes your knee again. “Yes. As long as you are.”

You smile back, and you realize your heart isn’t racing as much anymore. “Right. And…you don’t think this is weird? I mean…her pimping you out just to help me?”

He laughs, and you decide right then and there that you love the sound of his laugh. “No, I don’t,” he admits. “She’s not pimping me out. I offered.”

You lean back. “You offered?”

“She told me you weren’t having a good time with the guys you were meeting, and I said I could help.” He shrugs once. He’s so calm. “She liked the idea and told me she’d bring it to you.”

And you remember when she did. Remember how casually she’d said, “If you ever wanna use Harry…you’re more than welcome to.”

And you’d blinked at her because you couldn’t understand it at all.

But she explained, “He and I have always been in an open relationship. And if you need a bit of…practice or just need someone to scratch that itch, I think he’d be really good. You could talk to him, see what you think?”

You were sure she was messing with you. You weren’t desperate and horny enough to go fucking her boyfriend, but she was more than all right with it. She assured you of that many times. Suggested you just talk to him and see how it made you feel. She gave you his number. You made a time to meet.

And now here you are, wondering if you really are about to go through with it.

“You…you want to help?” you ask him again, and he nods.

“If you want me to.” Another squeeze to your knee. “Kitten, there’s no pressure here. It’s just a conversation. And if we decide no, then we won’t, and it’ll be all right.”

“But it’s…I mean, won’t it be like cheating?” Your hands begin to twist together on your lap. “What if you regret it? Or what if she regrets it?”

“We won’t. We agreed to this,” he says, and he’s still so calm. “This only works if she and I are honest. We know that. And we want to try new things, new people. Plus, she adores you. I do, too. But if you think it feels like cheating, then we don’t have to. We can end the conversation right now.”

A beat. He lets this settle.

“But if you want to try,” he continues softly, “then we’ll ease into it. We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable. Yeah? This is all up to you.”

You feel your cheeks growing warm. He’s so good. “What if I’m not any good? And you’ve wasted your time? And I made this weird for no reason?”

He smiles, and his eyes are like meadows. Soft and serene. He straightens up just enough to brush his thumb along your chin and relax you.

“There is no possible world where you aren’t good,” he murmurs, and somehow…you believe him. “But if you’re nervous, we’ll plan for that, too. We’ll communicate. I can help you find what makes you feel good.”

You walked into his apartment—into their apartment—sure you wouldn’t be doing it. Sure that there was no way you’d ever believe this to be a good idea.

But here you are, seriously considering it. Teetering on the edge of agreement, ready to fall into his arms.

“Are you sure you want to?” you ask him again. “Are you sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”

His brows pinch together, and he seems confused. But he’s still smiling. “Kitten, believe me. There is nothing I have ever wanted to do more. Sex is intimate and it’s tricky and it’s confusing. And you should only ever be with someone that makes you feel good. Feel safe. And if I can be that person for you, then I want to be. As long as you want me to be, too.”

And you do. You do. You aren’t sure if you even realized how badly until now.

You nod, and his touch lowers. “Okay,” you decide. “Okay, I want to.”

He does his best not to appear too excited, but you can see it there behind his grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You straighten your shoulders. “If…I mean, it’s just once, right? We do this, it’s over, we all go back to how it was before, and we don’t talk about it.”

Another beat. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, it is,” you assure him with a soft scoff. “No, I’m already gonna have a hard time looking you in the eye. And Rebecca. This is…it’s just…it’s weird.”

He drops his hand to your knee and squeezes it once more. “We don’t have to do this—”

“No, I do want to,” you assure him. “I really do, I just…it is weird. Maybe a good weird, but still weird. And I’m okay with that. I just…I want to, and we can, and then we don’t have to talk about it. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

The living room grows quiet. You aren’t sure what to do now. You aren’t sure if you’ve offended him. You don’t think he ever gets offended. He never has before. As Rebecca’s Harry.

But today he is Just Harry and Just Harry is very calm as he waits for you to continue.

You swallow again. “So…now what?”

“You tell me.” He stands, and you’re eye-level with his bare, toned stomach.

“Uh…okay.” You shift. “Do…you wanna do it tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Do…do you wanna do it at my place?”

“Sure.”

“Do…I need to pick up…condoms?”

He smiles. “I’ve got some I’ll bring.” He nods at you. “And I’m clean, too. Got tested right after she told me.”

God, this is all so real. “Good. I did, too. Not that there was really much…chance. Since it’s been, like…three years.”

He doesn’t have a reaction to this admission. Most guys do. They think it’s weird you’ve been so long without sex. They think you’re a virgin again. They don’t want anything to do with you.

Harry has no reaction. He doesn’t seem disappointed, or relieved, or embarrassed for you, or even repulsed.

“Good,” is all he says before running a hand through his damp curls. “What time would you like me to meet you?”

“Uh…5? No…7?” You wince. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but…if it’s just a few minutes, then—”

“A few minutes?” Now he’s amused. “Is that all you think I can last?”

Your expression drops. “I…no. No, I just…I don’t know. Most guys tap out after a bit, so I figured—”

“Kitten,” he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “I plan to last as long as you’ll let me.”

Your stomach drops next. “Uh…okay. Great. Then…5?”

“Five,” he repeats, and you’re thrilled. Nervous. Thrilled. “We can talk more about what we want when we get there, yeah?”

You nod. “Sure. That’s…good. That’s good.”

He smiles, and just like that…the date is set.

4:58 comes and you’re a nervous wreck. He’s already here—you’ve just buzzed him in—and now he’s walking up your steps. And you are standing in your kitchen, pacing, tugging on your robe, and trying not to sweat. Again.

When you let him in, he’s…breathtaking. Somehow, in the few short hours since you last saw him, he got exponentially hotter.

His hair is dry, and his curls are styled in a way that makes you want to run your hands through them. He’s wearing a shirt, but it’s oversized and soft. Easy to slip out of. His jeans are ripped but they hug his hips perfectly.

He’s…sex. He’s beautiful. He’s stunning, and you are so incredibly nervous, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Hi,” he smiles as he slips off his shoes and shuts your door. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No, you’re not,” you argue quickly. “You’re perfect. You’re—fuck. No, you’re…this is good.”

He laughs and lets his eyes trail down your covering. “Are you…did I interrupt something, or—”

“No. No, sorry. I, uh…I figured this would be easier,” you explain, now absentmindedly playing with the tie. “You know, I could just slip this off, and we could go.”

He hums, but you can tell he’s biting his tongue. “I see. And…is that how you’d like to proceed? You just want to rip the band-aid?”

“Um…” Shit, do you? “I don’t…know. I was kind of hoping you could tell me.”

He nods now and asks for your hand. You give it to him—rather shyly—before allowing him to lead you toward your sofa. He sits you both down and brings your attention to him.

“I will do whatever you want me to do,” he begins. “But…I’d like to know what you really want. What you fantasize about, what makes you feel good. When you’re with someone, or when you picture being with someone, what are they doing? What are you doing?”

You feel your face grow warm. You can’t believe you’re having this conversation with him, and yet…he feels so safe. You trust him. You don’t mind admitting some of your weirder preferences. After all, Rebecca has told you before about what he’s like in bed. He’s…good. Very good. And into some weirder things, too.

And maybe now you understand why she was so happy for you to ask him.

“I…I guess I like…to be taken care of,” you admit quietly, instantly glancing down at your lap to avoid his reaction.

But just as quickly, he’s slipping a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes back to his. “Yeah, Kitten?”

Your stomach wrenches. You nod.

“Tell me more,” he encourages gently.

You fumble with your robe again. “Uh…I don’t really like…to make decisions. A lot of times. I…I feel better if I’m being told what to do.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Okay. I can do that. What else, baby?”

Baby. You think you might die. “Um…I think I like it rough. Or…rougher. Like…spanking, and…hair pulling, and choking…and stuff.”

He’s so entertained by your timid demeanor, and he chuckles again as he squeezes your jaw. “Is that right? D’you want me to spank you, Kitten?”

You really might die. “I…yes? I think so?”

“I need you to do more than think,” he says now, a bit firmer. “When I ask, I expect a clear answer. Is that understood?”

You nod, and you don’t even realize.

“So do you want me to spank you?”

“…yes. I do.”

“Good girl.” He brushes his thumb along your lips, and your mouth parts for him. “What else? What kind of positions do you like? Do you have any particular porn you like to watch?”

You look back down at your lap, and he smirks. “I…I don’t really watch it as much as…I read it.”

“Oh?” He dips down, looking for your attention. “You like to read it, baby? What do you like to read?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Just…just smut.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

And you’re so embarrassed, yet somehow so enamored, and you tell him before you can stop yourself. “Just…sometimes it’s rough. And…taboo. And…dangerous, I guess.”

He hums again, considering this. “Like to be naughty when you’re alone, don’t you?”

And you feel like you’re on fire, burying your face in your hands with a soft groan until he immediately tugs them back down.

“Uh-uh,” he warns, and goosebumps dance down your skin from where he’s touching you. “What did I say, hm? None of that. Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just…I’m so nervous.”

Another soft smile as he cups your cheek and scoots closer. He’s everywhere. You can smell him, you can feel him. You can practically taste him and it leaves you with this insatiable need for more.

“I know,” he says calmly. “But it’s just me, yeah? You’ve known me forever. You know I’d never want to hurt you or scare you or embarrass you. And I’d never judge you.”

“I know,” you echo. “This is just all so…real.”

He hums and seems to consider something. Then, he nods his chin at you. “I wanna try something. Would that be all right?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter. “What?”

“Close your eyes. Just for a minute.”

So, you do. And the living room falls eerily quiet as you wait for whatever instruction might come next.

But it never comes. He has no instruction. He’s quiet.

And then…

He’s kissing you.

Soft lips ghost across your own. They tease and they taunt. You can’t see him, but you can feel him—can taste him. He’s kissing you, and he’s taking your mouth against his, and he’s so…he’s so.

And not being able to see him does wonders. Because you lose all inhibitions and simply take. You accept what he’s offering and you delight in doing so.

He was right.

You grow hungrier—needier. You let your hands find his shoulders and hoist yourself up onto your knees. In turn, he takes hold of your hips to keep you steady and helps bring you onto his lap. It’s like you’re one. Like you’ve rehearsed this, done it a million times. A fluid, lustful, heavy dance that ends with pants and whispers of each other’s names.

And you forget how strange this might be. You forget your hesitations and your concerns. You allow yourself to have him and to enjoy it.

And it’s perfect.

When you finally open your eyes, you feel much braver. Ready to do what he came here to do.

His cheeks are flushed. His lips are pink and slightly swollen. His pupils are dilated and he’s wearing the softest grin—like a warm sweater.

“Please?” you whisper, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Where?” he asks.

“Bedroom.” It might sound like a demand, but you’ve never felt so submissive. “Please, Harry—”

He picks you up. Carries you down the hall and toward your bed. He’s been here before, seen it a hundred times when he and Rebecca would come over for movie nights or dinners.

But it’s different now and you both know it. He treats your space with reverence. Treats you with reverence. Awe. You are…everything to him in this moment. He makes you the center of his world, the focus of his attention.

And you have to remind yourself not to fall in love with him.

He drops you onto the mattress with care but just a bit of roughness. Exactly the way you like.

He follows after you. Slots his body between your thighs and brings his lips back to yours. You kiss until you feel dizzy. It’s quick and eager and tantalizing. He moves to your neck while your fingers move for his shirt. He nips at your throat and you fumble with the hem. And he only stops kissing you so you can slip the shirt over his head and toss it toward the floor.

You’ve seen his body before—saw it just today. But now it’s here, in your hands, in your bed, in your room. And it’s glorious. Tan, strong, firm. Covered in tattoos that make you want to drool and rippling with muscles you didn’t even know someone could have.

You want to gaze but he’s already back on your neck, sucking bruises below your ear. And then…his hand is on your thigh.

You’re tempted to freeze—to be reminded of how odd the situation—but you don’t allow yourself to succumb to the overthinking. You enjoy the feeling of his fingers moving up toward your robe. You enjoy the way they play with the tie as if teasing you. And you enjoy the warmth of his palm as he whispers, “May I?”

You nod until you get a headache. Practically flinging the robe open for him.

He’s gentle as he pulls it undone. Considerate as he pushes it back and reveals your naked body to him.

And there you are. Bare before your best friend’s boyfriend and it’s…

It’s…

Not nearly as strange as it should be.

His expression softens like your nakedness hurts him. In the best way. He groans and he stares and he parts his lips as if dying to take you in his mouth.

And who are you to deny him?

You nod again, allowing him to do whatever he might like, and he’s grateful. So very grateful for you as he guides the robe away from your body, disposes of it, and dives in.

He kisses from your shoulder to your chest. From your chest to your tits. To the valley between and down your stomach. He is practiced, he is patient, he is beautiful. And he feels like heaven.

“Harry,” you nearly whimper, eyes falling shut as you settle back onto the bed.

He squeezes your hips so you know he heard you. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Just lay still for me, Kitten, okay?”

He’s telling you what to do. You listen.

He pulls your legs apart and scoots back. He wants to taste you. You can see that he wants nothing more. But he stops to look up at you. Wanting permission. Wanting to hear you say that he’s allowed and that you want it, too.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out. “Yes, go. It’s fine.”

He rubs his thumbs along your skin to soothe you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”

Anything, anything, anything.

“Want you to grab my hair,” he tells you. “Want you to pull it, yank it, whatever. Want you to show me what feels good. Yeah?”

“Okay,” you agree breathily. “Promise.”

He grins and it’s all teeth. He returns his kisses to you. He starts at your bent knee. He goes down your inner thigh. He travels across your hip.

And finally…finally.

He’s gentle with your clit at first. A few kisses, just to prepare you. Getting a feel for your body, letting you get a feel for his mouth. For his face between your legs.

You bring a shaky hand to his hair and card your fingers through, fulfilling your vow. His hair feels good against your palm. Like butter. You gather him in your fist and tug.

His lashes flutter in response. He hums again—louder. You can feel it against your pussy and it makes your toes curl.

His hands keep you from bucking up, but he seems pleased when you try. He likes that you feel good. He likes that he gets to use his power to keep you still.

“Har…Harry,” you whimper, and he groans again. He likes the sound of his name in your mouth. “Shit—”

He slaps your hip. A warning. “Good girls don’t use bad language. Do they?”

No. You shake your head. Your heart is racing. “Please…”

He’s happy again. Moving his mouth down your cunt until he can taste the beginnings of your arousal beginning to gather. “You’re so good for me, Kitten. You know that? Being so well behaved.”

You love his praise. You always have. Winning his approval means the world, and now, in this moment, it means that much more. You want to make him happy. To please him. To do what he wants.

You yank on his curls and he seems to melt between your thighs. He moves back to your clit and sucks. Flicks you with his tongue and basks in the sound of your whiny cries.

“There you go,” he says, and it’s more to himself. “I’ve got you.”

You’re shaking. Overcome by this feeling and by the impending release. It’s really going to happen. Harry is going to make you cum, and you never thought you’d see the day.

He knows you’re close. Knows you can’t fight it and he doesn’t want you to. He steadies his technique. Goes harder, faster. Gives you everything you’re asking for. You are puddy in his hands. Clay for him to mold. You are whatever he wants you to be in this moment and you’re more than all right with that.

He brings a finger to your hole and gently slips it inside. The fullness of such a large digit makes your brain turn to mush and you whimper again as you yank on his hair. He’s pleased.

“That’s what you needed, hm?” He sinks to the knuckle and starts to pump. “Just needed my fingers, yeah?”

“Yes…yes.” He’s so good. So very good.

“I know,” he hums, and it’s almost condescending. He feels bad that you’re so easy. “Take whatever I’ll give you, won’t you?”

You will. He knows it. You know it. If all he did was look at you, you’d feel grateful to be under the warmth of his gaze.

“Tell me, Kitten,” he continues, dragging his tongue up the length of your cunt. From his finger to your clit. “Do the boys in your books do it like this?”

You don’t want to think about your books at a time like this. Not when you have him. Real and here. In your bed. Your clit in his mouth.

“Do they?” he pushes and adds a second finger. How does he expect you to speak? “Hm? Is this what you dream about? When you fuck yourself in this bed? You dream about someone tasting you? Burying their face in your sweet pussy?”

You whimper. You writhe. You cling to his curls and try not to disappear.

“Speak,” he murmurs, and slaps your inner thigh.

You whine again and pant, “Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he corrects you, and lifts his head. He’s glistening in you. He’s beautiful. “M’not your friend here, Kitten. I’m the one making you cum. You will remember that.”

And you will. Because he is better than your books. He is considerate, and he is good, and he is making you cum before you can stop yourself.

Your back arches from the bed. Your chest caves in on itself. Your legs squeeze the sides of his head and he fucking loves it.

He releases your hips so he can grab onto your thighs and press them hard to his cheeks. He wants to suffocate in you. You want to let him.

“Harry—” you gasp. He slaps your leg. “Sir…I…”

You can’t say anything else. He knows. It’s okay. He rides you through. Takes every drop on his tongue. Swallows you down. Feeds on you. Indulges in you.

Today you are his.

And still, he’s not through. He begins again. He knows you’re sensitive and he knows it won’t be long before you give him another.

He adds a third finger and begins to thrust inside your quivering cunt. He says, “How many times do they make their girls cum?”

You glance down. “What?”

“Your books. Your fantasies. Your dirty smut that gets you off. How many times do they make the girl cum?”

You think. You can’t think. “I…I don’t know—”

“You do,” he argues and nips at your pussy. “Because I bet you wish it was more. I bet you make yourself cum for every time they do. I bet you fuck yourself while you read and pretend that it’s you.”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right. You hate that it’s so obvious.

“How many?” he repeats. “Once? Twice? Do they give up after that? Are they as good as you want them to be?”

You can’t hear him through the pounding in your ear. The second one is close. You’re shaking, trembling, dying. It’s already unraveling. You’re too far gone.

He pumps you through your second and carries right on to your third. “Shame you never called me. Shame you never read your little books and thought to ask me for help. Should’ve known I would have.”

Your cheeks are growing warm again. You’re embarrassed and sensitive to the touch.

He notices. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” he realizes aloud, and he sounds almost proud. “Thought about me when you touched yourself.”

You shake your head but it’s a lie. You both know it.

“You did,” he repeats, and he’s smirking. “Did you picture me when you read? Picture me in your dirty little taboo fantasy? D’you picture my cock? My hands? My mouth?”

You did, and you’re embarrassed, and he loves it.

“Did I make you cum?” he whispers, and slips a fourth finger inside. “Hm? Did I have you coming all over your pretty hand? All over your sheets? Or did you use a toy, baby?”

You squirm. You try to fight him, try to fight this orgasm, try to fight what he’s making you remember. But it’s useless.

“How many times did I make you cum?” he nearly purrs, and it’s over. It’s all over. You are powerless to him, and you embrace it. “How many times did you cum for me while you were reading your naughty little books—”

You don’t hear the rest. You’re unraveling for the third time before he can find his answer. But that’s more than all right because this was the answer he really wanted, anyway.

He strokes your skin as you come down. Then, he pulls his fingers out, takes them in his mouth, and swallows you. Waiting until you’ve caught your breath before he’s crawling back up your body and slipping his tongue against yours.

He kisses you, and you taste everything. Him, you, and five years of memories shared between you. Rebecca slowly starts to dissolve from the picture and now it’s just the two of you. In every flashback, every moment. Maybe it was always him and you.

You reach for his belt. You want his jeans off. You want your hands around his cock. You want to hold him, ride him, gag on him. You’re impatient and he’s amused and it feels as though time is moving far too slow.

“Easy,” he tuts, but he kisses you again. “M’gonna give you my cock, Kitten, just have to wait for me, yeah?”

You pout. He kisses it away. “Can’t wait, Sir. Need it.”

Sir makes him grin, and this seems to work in your favor. “You can’t, hm? Well, what if I wanna take my time?”

You groan and you whimper and you fling your arms around his neck to pull him close and plead with him. “Please,” you whisper, kissing along his neck, and his skin tastes divine. “Please fuck me, Sir. I need it. Might die.”

He chuckles, and the vibration of his chest makes your insides twitch. “I bet. S’been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Three years, and while you know sex isn’t necessary to survive…now that you’re here…you feel rather insatiable.

Because it’s not the fact that you haven’t had sex in three years that’s making you anxious. It’s the fact that you haven’t had sex with him. And you need to. You need him to scratch this itch that only he can scratch. And you need him to do it now.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, and you want to cry. He’s so good. “Can I do that, Kitten? Can I make it better?”

You nod, and you’re dizzy, and you’re dripping onto your sheets below. You feel so empty without him.

He laughs again and it’s heaven. “Good girl. Take off my jeans, okay?”

You do, and you do it well. They’re off in under thirty-five seconds and on the floor, next to your robe and his shirt. Your clothes look good together. It makes you smile.

He nods at his boxers, the only thing left between you. “Take ‘em off.”

You do. You roll the dark band down his gorgeously strong thighs and help him slip out of them before they’re joining the collection on the ground.

He’s got a large tattoo on his left leg that’s just begging to be licked and muscles in his calves that make your pussy clench.

You stare at him and you probably drool and he’s laughing again.

He slips his finger under your chin once more and lifts your head until your eyes meet. He is a meadow. Gentle and calm. “Do you want a taste, Kitten?”

More nodding, more drooling. He kneels and you scoot closer, grasping onto his thighs to brace yourself as you stare at him.

He’s hard, and big, and leaking in a way that makes your throat go dry. He is better than you wanted him to be and he is better than the books and he is real.

You dip down and you allow your lips to graze his tip. He smiles and puts a hand on your head to guide you. Comfort you. Control you in just the right way.

You extend your tongue and drag it up the side. He tastes good. More so than you expected. It’s like candy, and you lick and lick until you needily begin to take him into your mouth.

He squeezes your scalp lightly. Easy. You’re going fast and he wants to go slow. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

But you are. How could you not? He’s heavy in your mouth and you never thought you’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock as much as you do his. Maybe it’s true what they say. Maybe you really do get pleasure out of pleasing him.

You take more. As much as you can bear. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re tempted to gag but you don’t, not yet. You don’t want him to think you can’t take him. You want to be good. As good as he was for you.

He slips his fingers into your roots and tugs. “Baby,” he warns softly. “Don’t push yourself—”

You keep going. You groan around him and he curses at the feel of your throat. You go further. Until your eyes are screwing shut and your breathing becomes labored.

Suddenly, he’s yanking on you. Pulling you off as a string of saliva drips from his cock to your mouth.

“Hey,” he grunts, and he looks at you. You want to shrink. “I told you to go easy, yeah? You have nothing to prove to me, Kitten. This is not about doing something you think I need you to do. I want you to do it because you want to do it. It’s not a competition. I’m not gonna be disappointed if you can’t take much of me.”

You frown. “I know, but…I want to. I really do want to. I just…you’re big, Ha—Sir. You’re so big.”

You’re feeding his ego (but you’re also telling the truth) and he exhales a soft laugh. “I know,” he repeats. “But forcing yourself will only hurt. Besides, this is about you, yeah?”

Your expression falls. Another reminder that he’s only here as a service. To get you off and then get out. He won’t be spending the night, and he won’t be calling you tomorrow to set up the next time, and he won’t be promising that he’ll train your throat open to take his cock.

You nod. You concede. Bring your hands to your lap and pull yourself away.

Now he’s frowning. He smooths his palm down the back of your neck and tugs you to him. He looks at you and he’s looking for what you’re really thinking. Something shifted. He wants to know what. Why.

“This is about you,” he says again, and you wish he’d stop. “Believe me, I’d be happy to have you gag on me, but that’s not what we’re doing tonight, okay? Not tonight.”

And it’s not a promise of next time. You know that. But not tonight implies something more open-ended than before and you finally smile. “Okay.”

He sweeps his thumb along your throat. “Can I fuck you now, baby?”

“God, yes,” you breathe, and nearly drag him on top of you.

He smiles again and you feel whole. The dance continues. He kisses you and situates himself between your thighs, and you are so very ready.

“Shit, wait, hold on,” he says, and you almost burst into tears. “I need to grab the condoms—”

“No,” you nearly shout, and his brow raises. “No, I…we’re both clean. And I’m on the pill. Why…why don’t we just…not? Maybe?”

It’s selfish, you know it’s selfish. But you want to feel him. You don’t want something keeping him from you and you want to know that he actually fucked you.

You like condoms. You prefer condoms. But not now. Not with him. You have to know he really did this. You need to feel him in your pussy for years to come.

He looks at you. “You’re on the pill?” He doesn’t answer your question.

“Yeah. I take ‘em for cramps and regulation and stuff.” You wince. Talking about cramps is not sexy. “The point is…if you want…I mean, I want, but if you want…?”

He thinks about this. Brushes your hip with his thumb. Thinks. “I don’t mind, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you exhale. “God, I’m sure. Honestly. As long as you are. And…and Rebecca. I don’t know if you guys have a rule…or anything.”

You wince again. You don’t want to bring up Rebecca, either. But you know you have to. You know she’s your friend, and she’s Harry’s partner, and this has to be asked. It has to be considered.

So, he considers it. “Most of the time we have a rule, yeah. For safety and peace of mind. But that’s when it’s other people. She doesn’t mind if we do or don’t. She said it’s up to me.”

“You talked about it?”

“Yeah.” Of course they did. Honesty. “When I was grabbing the condoms. I asked if you had a preference, she said she didn’t think so. Said we could just go without if we wanted. As long as I got tested after.”

“Right.” You almost feel weird knowing they talked about you. But what did you expect? “And…do you want to?”

Another beat. He looks at you. Really looks at you. “I want to fuck you. I want to feel you. I think we’ve taken all of the right steps and I feel comfortable going without. As long as you do.”

“I do,” you assure him again. “I really, really do.”

He smiles. “Good.” He drags his tip down your cunt, gathering your arousal. “Then I wanna start like this. Wanna see your face. Make sure you’re doing all right.”

You nod quickly.

“And I wanna see you when you cum on my cock for the first time,” he whispers huskily before steadying himself above you.

You are giddy. He is everything. He is so much better than your books and he is lining himself up with you and he is big, and ready, and beautiful.

He kisses you again. “Deep breath, okay? Try to relax. Don’t want to hurt you.”

You do breathe. You do try to relax. You let your mind wander to a world where he does this to you every night. Where your pussy happily accepts him and knows him and molds to him.

He pushes in. You reel.

Still, he is good, and gentle, and kind. He kisses you more. He distracts you, even though he doesn’t need to. You pretend that he’s imagining a world with you, too.

He sinks in further, and life is perfect. Your nails claw at his back—at the many muscles that tense beneath your touch. Your leg hooks to his hip, your heel against his ass. You draw him in. You plead with him for more. You say his name, you moan, you shiver.

“Shh,” he coos, and he wraps his hand around your throat. He remembers what you like, and he squeezes gently. “Let me do this, don’t rush me.”

You whimper, “Sir,” and he kisses you again. You are addicted to his tongue.

He finally buries himself all the way, hips against yours, chests flush together. He’s heavy and he’s warm. Like a weighted blanket and you feel so safe. You’ve missed the feeling of another body on top of you. Of that connection and intimacy. That protection. It’s even better when it’s him.

You cling to him and ask every star in the sky not to take him from you. “Please move, Sir.”

He draws back. He begins to fuck you, and he’s so big. He stretches you, claims you. Owns you, truly. He sucks your tit into his mouth and you melt between his lips. He nips, and pulls, and groans. And you hate everyone he’s ever been with before. You wish you were his only.

He starts going faster. But not too fast. He wants to make you anxious for it. He wants you to beg. Wants you to unravel yourself from need alone. And you’re so close to doing just that.

“Good girl,” he praises, and your heart cracks down the middle. “Taking me so well. Is this what you needed, Kitten? Needed someone to fuck this tight little pussy until you felt better?”

You nod and you whimper again. He’s fucking you back to life. What happens when he leaves?

You shake the thought free and focus on now. His body feels good against yours. His teeth are perfect on your throat. His curls are soft and his skin is tan and his cock is fucking magic.

He’s relentless. Thick. Splitting you open and drawing you in. Your tits bounce from the thrusts and your back arches from the bed and his face is delicious.

He’s watching you closely, just like he said. He’s studying your reactions, your noises, your gasps for air and mercy. He wants to know he’s giving you what you wanted. He wants to know he’s doing it right.

And of course he is. He has to know that. He has to assume he’s better than the average man. You wonder if he learned this from Rebecca or someone else. You wonder what would happen if you were his. Could you be okay with him sleeping with other people? Could you accept that he still wants you?

You close your eyes and scrunch your nose. You’re doing it again. You’re letting yourself imagine a world you can’t have. You aren’t being present; you aren’t enjoying what you’re being given now.

Suddenly, his hand is back on your throat. He’s squeezing, but pointedly. Asking for your attention.

“Hey,” he murmurs, just as stern as before. You look up. “What is this? What is this face for, what’s wrong?”

You blink and then realize your expression is still bunched. You relax. “Nothing, sorry.”

“Hey.” Firm. Unrelenting. He stops thrusting and you want to die. “Baby, you can’t do that. I told you I need communication, I need honesty. If I’m hurting you, you have to tell me—”

“No,” you insist quickly. You take hold of his shoulders and then his hips as though to get him to continue. “No, that’s not it. I promise. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t move. “Then what was the face for? What’s wrong?”

You huff. Sigh. Squeeze his waist. “Nothing, I promise. I was just…thinking about something I shouldn’t. And I wanted to stop.”

“Stop fucking? Or stop thinking?”

“Thinking. I wanted to be here. With you.”

He relaxes now and you feel his cock twitch. “Kitten, I want you here with me, too. If you’re not, we can stop for a while—”

“No,” you groan. You feel like a child about to throw a temper tantrum. “No, I swear. I am here. I am. And if you stop, then I won’t be, and it might kill me.”

He sighs now. It’s heavy. “Nobody else exists outside of this room except you and me, yeah? Just us.”

You melt. “Yeah…”

He kisses you. “I want you here with me, baby,” he exhales, and it’s like he’s breathing the sentiment into your lungs. “I need you here. With me. On my cock. Don’t want you to think about anybody else. It’s just us.”

You nod again, and you claw at him, and you beg him to keep going. He does. It fixes everything.

When your fourth hits you, you see the stars. Even if they aren’t in your favor, they are bright, and warm, and they carry you through to the other side.

And once you’ve caught your breath, Harry pulls out.

You’re tempted to wither, to cry, to beg him to stay but he’s already flipping you around onto your stomach and driving himself back in.

Now you understand. And you’re ecstatic. He’s rough. Pulling your hair, forcing your cheek to the bed, slapping his palm against your ass.

“Give me another,” he demands, and he sounds angry, but he’s not. He’s ready. “Just like you would for your little book boys. You fucking cum for me, right now. Let me feel you. Let me cum with you.”

He slams into you and it’s so full. You could cum for a lifetime and still never feel finished.

He spanks you again. Grips your hair. Forces your nose into the duvet until it’s hard to breathe. It’s rough. Deep. And still…he’s caring for you. You know he’s making sure he isn’t pushing too far. Just enough. You love it.

“What a sweet little pussy,” he seethes, but it’s thick with lust. “Can’t believe you’ve fucking kept this from me for five years. All this time and you were right here.”

You’re glad he can’t see you now. He might be afraid of how happy that sentence makes you.

“S’all I’m gonna think about,” he says. “Tasting you. Fucking you. Feeling you. Gonna dream of this pretty pussy every goddamn night.”

You moan. You hope he does. Hope he dreams of it when he’s lying next to her.

No. You scrunch your nose. You reject it. You ignore it.

He spanks you. Kneads your ass in his hand, then spanks you again. “Gotta promise me something, Kitten. Yeah? Gotta promise me that you’re gonna think of me, too.”

And you are. Of course you are. You always do. “Yes…yes, Sir. I promise.”

Another slap and squeeze to your scalp. “Good fucking girl. Now cum. Fucking cum for me, baby.”

You want to. But not before he does. You need to feel him, too, and you hold off as best you can until you feel him twitch.

“Kitten,” he says, and you’re ready. “Want you to make me another promise, yeah? Want you to take my cum…and keep it. Keep it in your little pussy, even after I leave. Okay?”

You nod quickly. You will. Of course you will. God, how could he think you wouldn’t?

Your promise tips him over, and he cums, and he’s loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You wish you could see him. It’s so cruel that you can’t, and you try to glance back to catch even a glimpse. You see his brows scrunch together, see his mouth drop open, see his cheeks flush from the force.

And seeing him tips you over. You cum together, a mess of moans, and pants, and nicknames. Sweaty bodies connecting as he collapses on top of you, further burying you into the mattress. And it’s so hot and you can’t breathe, but you have never felt more alive. This moment is infinite. He is infinite, and you are infinite with him.

“Shit,” he says, and you have to agree. “You’re so good, baby. So fucking good. Can’t believe you’ve kept that from me.”

It’s the second time he’s said it. You wonder if he realizes. “I didn’t do anything, this was all you.”

He snorts. “Kitten, I had nothing to do with how fucking good that was. Believe me. You…are fucking perfect. Every cute little flutter of your cunt. Your tits. Those big eyes…”

The room falls silent. You imagine he wants to turn you around and see you, but he doesn’t. He’s keeping himself inside you for as long as he can.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and the sentiment doesn’t feel strong enough. “For…for doing that, I mean. And…for not making it weird. I know I was probably kind of…rusty and nervous, and I just—”

“No.” He shakes his head. Squeezes your hip. Kisses your bare back until you fall silent. “You are perfect. Okay? That was perfect. I really, really enjoyed it.”

You smile. You are happy and miserable all in the same moment. “Me, too.”

You want to ask if you’ll be doing it again. You want to pretend that he’s not gonna leave you and go back to her. That he’s not Rebecca’s Harry or Just Harry.

That he’s Your Harry.

But all good things must come to an end. He will leave. And you will let him.

“Now what?” you dare to ask.

A small beat. “We don’t have to talk about it after I leave…if that’s what you still want,” he says next, and your chest feels heavy. “I just want to make sure you’re all right before I do. That you pee, and you drink your water, and you take it easy. I know I went kind of hard on you.”

“But it was good,” you tell him, and you grin at the memory. It feels so far away. “Really good. Everything I wanted.”

“Yeah?” He kisses you more. The space between your shoulders. Your neck. Your cheek. “Any notes?”

You laugh. “No notes. God, no. You’re like a sex god.”

“Better than your books?”

“So much fucking better.”

“Hm.” More kisses. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll get a big head.”

“You already have one,” you attempt to tease, and he laughs, too. “Both of them.”

The room fills with giggles until you both fall silent again. He doesn’t leave. You don’t make him.

“Do we…tell Rebecca?” you ask. “Like…the details and things?”

“Only if you want to.” He stops kissing you now but rests his cheek on your head. “She doesn’t expect us to, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You nod. You like Rebecca. You can’t imagine you’d be so relaxed if you were in her position. “And this…works for you guys? The open relationship?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. Nods. “We have a lot of love and trust and I think that’s why. It’s what we both want.”

You resist the urge to scrunch your nose. You’re happy for him. For both of them, you are. This really is what’s best and you’re so glad they have each other. And you’re glad that they’re both willing to explore it with you and still keep you in their lives.

“Is it just sex?” you ask next, despite your better judgment. “Or…like, what if you wanted to date someone else? Or is that not what it means?”

“We can date around if we want. We haven’t in a while, just because we can’t seem to find people we like enough to keep around.” He smirks. “But we could. It’s not as rigid as it sounds.”

He finally pulls out and you want to cry. You feel cold and empty.

However, he’s quick to scoop the dribbling cum from your pussy and push it back in. Just for a little while longer.

You close your legs and smile. “I don’t think it’s rigid as long as it’s what you want.”

He smiles back. “It is.”

You shift now. You feel nervous again. “So…then, I guess by the rules and things…it wouldn’t be…totally weird to see if you wanted to do it again? Not that we have to—we could, I mean. Or not, if you don’t want. Or maybe I should ask her. Or you can. Or…actually, it’s dumb, never mind. I don’t know why I thought—”

He grabs your chin. Presses his thumb to your lips to quiet you. “Kitten, breathe.”

You do.

“We can do it again,” he says, and you have never felt so happy. You feel as though you were just set on fire. Your skin is tingling, and your insides are twisting, and your pussy is clenching. “We don’t have to ask permission. We’re adults. We can do whatever we’d like. That’s the point of an open relationship.”

You nod. You want to kiss him. “Okay. Are you…I mean, do you want to? We don’t have to just because I do, honestly. I just…we both liked it, so I thought maybe we’d want to. Unless it wasn’t really that good for you, which I would understand—”

“Kitten.”

You stop. You breathe.

He chuckles. “I would love to fuck you again. And again. And again. As many times as you’ll let me.”

You’re practically shaking. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He grins. He can tell how giddy you are. “What are you doing next Friday?”

“I am doing whatever you want me to.”

The expression that splits his face is like sunshine. He loves this answer, and he loves your pussy, and perhaps one day…he’ll love you, too.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes, and surges forward to kiss you.

And maybe…this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Next Part:

~ Insatiable You*

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry

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angelltheninth · 2 months

Text

His Favorite Used Toy

Pairing: Valentino x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, porn work, watching, overstimulation, aphrodisiac use, marking, body cumshots, degradation, name-calling, orgasm control, eye-contact, creampie, very brief gangbang, free use, aftercare, cockwarming, protective Valentino

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: The result of horny thoughts at 3AM. I have no excuse, I won't make up excuses and I'm not sorry lmao.

All of your co-stars had their eyes on you, eyeing every inch of your naked body, but the only person you looked at was him. Valentino. You were the only one he looked at as well. Out of everyone on the set you alone held his attention. Your body, bent downwards, with three cocks already in you, your mouth, moaning before taking a fourth, your eyes glazed over from coming so many times in a row.

You kept looking at him, sitting in his chair, grinning at you and mouth one final "Come," for you to obey. Despite your body protesting from overstimulation it obeyed him, as always.

"Oh shit. There she goes again. You really want this cum huh, slut?!" The demon behind you growled out as he pushed his cock all the way in, flooding your insides with more cum. The salty taste was almost too much but you still swallowed it, much to the delight of the lankier demon in front of you.

You couldn't move when they all pulled out and moved away to give Valentino space to walk down to you. You felt his hand fist in your hair and force you to look up at him, "Hmmm. Looks like you broke her. Come here dollface." His arms picked you up and cradled you close to him. Your body bucked against him, head against his neck, your mind so fuzzy you barely registered his words. "Stop coming, you're getting jizz all over my clothes. This shit is worth more then your pussy. Or any of your holes for that matter."

His words reached you but your body wouldn't listen. You kept rolling your hips against him, "Don't stop, please more, I need- mmnh!" Valentino pushed his middle and ring finger in your mouth to shut you the fuck up. But all you did was suck on them.

"It seems like you've had a bit too much. The aphrodisiac's still in your system." He pushed you too far. His other two arms tightened around your body while the third one picked up a sheet from the bed to cover you with.

"We can take care of her Boss." One of your co-stars supplied. You shook your head and held onto him tighter. Valentino sighed, but couldn't let them know he was playing favorites.

"You had your fun with her." His sharp gaze could silence anyone instantly, except for you, who moaned upon seeing it. "Travis. Send the footage to be edited. I'm gonna take this pretty little thing to my office. No one is allowed in."

The owl demon nodded, "Understood Valentino, sir."

At least Travis was harmless. Valentino walking to his office was a bit of a blur for you, you heard him whispering in your ear, you felt his hands on you, stoking the fire deep down in your belly, rendering your hips incapable of staying still.

"Take a breather, darling." He sat in his chair and pressed you backwards by your shoulders. His heart-shaped glasses obscured eyes, but you new of the care in them. "You took a lot today."

"But Val... more..." As you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss he didn't hesitate to kiss you back, his taste washing away the taste of cum on your tongue. Instead of salty you started to taste the sweetness. "More cock. Your cock next." You grinned up at him and rolled your hips against the bulge in his pants, "I know you wanna. You always wanna fuck me after. Claim me. Come on, what are you waiting for?"

"If I fuck you now I really will break you. Can't break one of my favorite cocktoys. I make good money of your sexy body, but I love that mind of yours too. So stop being a cumwhore and listen to me. Rest. Understood?" He used his dominating voice this time, his glasses placed away on the desk and his hands digging into your thigh.

"Yes, Val." You complied with a shaky breath.

"Good girl. Tell you what, to make sure you behave I'll give you this." Two of his hands lifted you up, the other two unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. You smiled down at him, your lips parting more and more with every inch that filled your abused pussy. "There. Will that make you calm?"

You nuzzled further against him, your pussy finally feeling good again. "It's a start."

"Needy little slut." Valentino kissed the top of your head. Affection was rare for the Overlord, but not non-existant.

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lovelyhan · 2 months

Text

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is.

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office.

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?”

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money.

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed.

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?”

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?”

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition.

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable.

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain.

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things.

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her.

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year.

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help.

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do.

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage.

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him.

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner.

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have.

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention.

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time.

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people.

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work.

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude.

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored.

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so.

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon.

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent.

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then.

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh.

“I want revenge.”

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines.

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl.

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to.

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing.

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo.

From: Wonwoo Jeon Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife. The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away. Regards, Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success.

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints.

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after.

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.”

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse.

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer.

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen.

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama.

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands.

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again.

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered.

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?”

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.”

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on.

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious.

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk.

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness.

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene.

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?”

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job.

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?”

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow.

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital.

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange.

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane.

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days?

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change.

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers.

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him.

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?”

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further.

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?”

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved.

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable.

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time.

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place.

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?”

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice.

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror.

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual.

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact.

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away.

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements.

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars.

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen.

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one.

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in.

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again.

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life.

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer.

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings.

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away.

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion.

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence.

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?”

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car.

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals.

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe.

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples.

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts.

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.”

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.”

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all.

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!”

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in.

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium.

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma.

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido.

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.”

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work.

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards,

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚#wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

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