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mochimooon · 2 months

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handsy - jean kirstein x reader 18+

Jean really likes to finger-fuck you. 'Nuff said. notes - established relationship. this came to me suddenly one morning and possessed me to write this on the fly. Zero plot, barely edited, minor POV switch, just filth :) warnings - explicit content, vaginal fingering, pervy! jean word count - 1800+

Jean is a handsy man. Or rather he’s a shameless perv – your words not his.

Then again, it’s hard for Jean to deny that. He can’t help it, never with you, not with the body you have. Moreso, he loves touching you.

The feel of your body, molding into his touch. The softness of your flesh, the roundness of your tits so fun to grope and pert nipples, too cute to not pinch. And then there’s that neck of yours, always adorned with a chain or necklace that calls his attention, a vampire that needs to sink his teeth into. He can’t forget those legs of yours. How they bend and stretch, looking so pretty wrapped around his waist and neck.

It's no secret, Jean loves to touch you in the most lewd ways. He calls it worship, you call it shameless.

To-may-to, to-mah-to. Because despite your bravado, you enjoy being spoiled by him, fending him off with lighthearted attempts.

But there is a line that you’ve been forced to draw, one that Jean crosses again and again and again.

It’s just not fair, he thinks. Of course, he’s more than thrilled to have you in any way that he can, but he wants to draw his own line that crosses over yours. Because pray tell, why it’s such an issue that Jean, more than anything else, fucking loves to finger you.

After you had swatted his hand away for the nth time during a dinner date, you demanded to know why he wanted to finger you constantly.

It was the first time, Jean had to think about it. There’s just something so naughty about sneaking his hand where it shouldn’t go. It’s perverted, he acknowledges that, and that’s what makes it the most fun. Something everyone’s taught— keep your hands to yourself. Jean likes doing the opposite with you.

The feel of your pussy pulsing around his digits, walls clamping down on his knuckles, it makes Jean delirious.

Jean’s a glutton for every single response you make. From the various ways you utter his name.

With a surprised gasp, “Jean!”

An annoyed, click of your tongue. “Jean…”

A hushed tone. “Jean.”

When you’re cumming on his fingers, moaning out, “Jean!”

Annoyed, worried, aroused, Jean loved every bit of it. Seeing your face screwed with pleasure despite bad timing (again your words. There’s no such thing as bad timing for him), nothing you could say or do would deter him from not fingering you.

The cycle never ends. He slides a hand up your skirt or dips his fingers into your jeans, and his touch makes itself at home in your wet pussy, all while you try to bat him away.

Today is no different. At a party with close friends, Jean had been extra touchy-feely with you, forecasting his habit. He managed to stave off for a few hours as you mingled with others, while he gave you some space only to resurface like an overactive puppy in desperate need of a walk.

But midway through, he snatched you up the stairs and into Connie’s bedroom, hands lifting the end of your dress.

You smack his chest. “Jean – no! Bad!”

He snorts, dropping his hands in feigned innocence. “Baby, I’m not a dog.”

“Yes, yes, you are. We’re at a party, just cool it for tonight or else.”

He dug his hands into his pockets, but you keep a close eye on them. “What do you mean or else?” His voice drips with curiosity, wiping away his impish grin.

“Or else, no touching for a while. No sex.” Jean’s mouth drops, but you cut him off. “I’m not messing around. You can’t just finger me with other people around.”

“Why can’t I finger you here then?” He sways on his heels, looking around to indicate how it’s empty. “I was on my best behavior. Didn’t slip my hand up your dress once tonight.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “No, but you were very touchy. Didn’t you hear Sasha tell us to get a hotel?”

He steps forward, hands still buried in his pockets. He’s being cautious, you can tell because you step back. “What’s wrong with wanting to touch my girlfriend?”

You clench your jaw to stop you from repeating the same thing. It’s a strategy that has worn you down in the past. Jean will beg, ‘but why not?’ on loop, using that charming smile of his to pepper kisses along your face, and your vestige would melt every time.

No, you tell yourself, watching him closely, ready to grab his hands when they leave his pockets.

He looms closer, gaze spilling onto your face. “I just want to touch you. I mean, look at you.” Light brown eyes rake you up and down. “You deserve an orgasm looking that good. Are you saying you don’t want one?”

It’s not fair how weak you are to the look he gives you. And the simple words of wanting to spoil you twists in your mind and curls down to your stomach, lighting that familiar spark.

No. You need to stand firm. This is good for the both of you. “It’s not going to work this time.”

“But – ”

“Uh-uh.” You shake your head. “It was cute the first couple of times, but I’m drawing a line.”

He pouts, a plea in his eyes.

You avert his gaze, unable to trust yourself, and it takes more restraint when Jean steps closer, kissing your hairline.

“Let me make you feel good. I just want my baby to relax.” He trails his lips to your forehead, down your nose in an innocent gesture, then finds your jaw. “C’mon. Say yes.”

You bite back a mewl, conflict only making you warmer. No matter how many times he’s touched you, Jean leaves you spellbound like the first time you met.

“Say yes…” he purrs into your lips.

The words steep into your mind, so close to reaching your tongue. But you catch the sound of others walking by, reminded of where you are. You blink, taking stock of the bedroom. Jean, however, doesn’t care about any of that, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Jean…”

“Uh-huh…” His voice trails towards victory.

“Not here.”

He pulls back, throwing his head back with a deep sigh, a look of defeat. You bristle with regret, yet stunned that Jean actually relented.

He lowers his head, a glimmer flashing in his gaze that sends a shudder down your spine.

It’s too late to stop his hands; they’ve freed themselves from his pockets and grab hold of your hips. You expect to be thrown on the bed, only for the floor to jostle in your sights.

Jean holds you securely over his shoulder, hooking an arm along the back of your knees. The other is on the move, lifting your dress and pulling your underwear off.

“Jean – ” You wriggle, though afraid you’ll fall.

Jean’s too strong to let that happen, even more determined to keep you in his clutches. Your panties are slipped past your ankles and tossed somewhere you can’t see. He pats your bare ass, giving the side a kiss.

Without preamble, you feel the drag of his finger along your slit, whining out.

“You’re soaking. You see, you just need an orgasm.” Jean’s tone is shadowed with lust.

“Jean, wait – ” you gasp, unable to negotiate, cut off with the push of two fingers. Your pussy flutters, stretching with a sting that sculpts around his knuckles. “Ah –”

“I’ll make you feel good.” Jean’s fingers pump into you deeply, the pad of his thumb reaching for your clit.

“Ah – ah – ” You’re already so dizzy, melting like clay at Jean’s deft fingers. It’s a first to be finger-fucked like this, but he’s skillful as always, you can’t blame this man for wanting to finger you. He’s a master at it. “Jean—”

He hums, pulling back his fingers until the tips tease your entrance. You miss the fullness of his touch already and you wriggle again, clutching onto the back of his shirt. “I’ll keep going, only if you say you love being fingered by me.”

You whimper, finding a way to grind down onto his fingers in the position you’re in. It feels impossible, only reaching the brush of his fingertips.

“Say it,” Jean says, pressing onto your clit. “Say, ‘I love it when you finger me’.”

You don’t know what it is about this time that hits different. On his lap, on your back, on your feet, Jean never fails to make you come undone on his hand. But over his shoulder, reliant on his hold, your stomach burns, your pussy dripping.

“Say it,” Jean repeats. “I want to touch you bad. But I want you tell me that you love getting fingered by me.”

You feel one finger plunge inside, nowhere near enough. “Jean, please, finger me.”

“Gladly, but that’s not what I want to hear. C’mon, don’t be stubborn. We don’t have all night. The party’s going to end in an hour, and Connie will need his bedroom at some point. Of course, I can always tell him that we’re busy.”

You scoff but it’s strained. Doing a sweep of your surroundings, you’re dizzy, voice lost.

“C’mon. You can do it. Just tell me you like how I finger you…”

You moan at the press of his fingertips teasing your hole. The moment drags out and you ache for reprieve. “I – I love – when you finger me – ”

“That’s my girl.” Triumph laces Jean’s murmur and he rewards you with three fingers, thrusting into you while his thumb rubs at your center. “You deserve an orgasm now.”

Your fingers claw Jean’s shirt, toes-curling as you’re struck with ecstasy. You moan out, wrinkling Jean’s shirt to stabilize you.

The moment passes, a crashing of a wave returning to the sleepy ocean. You fall limp, boneless and satisfied.

Jean slides you to your feet, keeping you steady. You peer up behind a lidded gaze, gratitude in your smile.

He strokes your face, taking his soaked fingers in his mouth. “I could finger-fuck you every second of every day.”

You smile weakly, leaning into his chest. The moment is short-lived. Your back sinks into the mattress with Jean crawling over your body, prying your thighs apart.

You give him a dumbfounded look, slow to realize what he’s already had in store.

He cups your pussy, teasing your entrance again. He flits a look up, mischief caught in his eyes. “Give me another one and I’ll keep my hands to myself for the rest of the night.” You’re too weak to argue, already bucking your hips at the renewed pleasure Jean pumps into you. His words evade you, as you and Jean both know that keeping his hands off you is a false promise. You swallow your pride, because he's not wrong, you wouldn't dream of him keeping his hands off you.

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rileysluvr · 9 months

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simon riley loves his car (and fucking you in it) nsfw!!

Simon had picked you up outside your apartment some hours ago, car parked out front and tapping on the steering wheel in front of him as he waited patiently; he had shown up much earlier than he anticipated, but would rather put a shotgun to his head than leave you waiting. A bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat, and surprise dinner plans that reminded you of your first real date with him, despite going out for almost a year now. He keeps things classical and efficacious.

He’d say it was well worth the wait, being able to watch you walk down the staircase in that flowy, little sundress of yours that hiked up with the wind, much to his viewing pleasure. He got out of his car the moment your front door had opened, looping around to be able to greet you with the flowers and a kiss. He showered you with compliments, as always, in that gruff and hilariously out-sticking Manchester accent you adored so much. Opening the door of his ‘69 Mach for you, ever the gentleman he is, and you were off for the evening.

He took you to your favorite restaurant downtown, the one he made your favorite by hearing you say you wanted to try it once and proceeding to take you the next night. One, ‘that was really good, Si, thank you,’ as you were kissing him goodnight, and suddenly he was taking you almost every weekend he was home. He’s sure to introduce some sort of variety every once in a while, though, for the other free nights of the week.

The man is shameless, truly. He isn’t afraid to whisper something naughty in your ear in public, or outright insult someone for looking at you in any way, malicious or not. These things he whispers: so fucking dirty, and tend to come out as you’re about to head home so he can warm you up and have you all desperate for an extra good fucking. One with your head buried in your mattress as his is between your thighs, chest rising and falling like a madwoman with exactly no worries in the world other than.

The worst is when you’re at previously mentioned restaurant and he doesn’t even bother keeping quiet as he’s signing the check because it’s well enough spaced out and, or at least he argues, nobody has the right to be listening in to his conversation in the first place. Scar themselves, and if they have a problem with it, he’ll add another just above the jugular so they don’t think about doing it again. He smirks when he sees your face has gone all red, hoping that no one had heard his vile promises until your faith is truly tested and you’re forced to just close your eyes and give in.

He drove you to your favorite viewing spot, parking his Mustang a few meters from the cliff’s edge that overhung the entire city. A beautiful sight, like it was straight from a modern painting or film, and the comfort of his car paid towards the surrealness of it all. You’re a pretty sight as well, all dolled up in the passenger seat with your hands folded in your lap, flowers and bag forgotten in the back.

Simon wasn’t ever much for using his words, but he’d do it all day if it meant hearing your sweet voice give him a response. There are times where you’ll both be as chatty as a couple of grandmothers meeting for their annual lunch outing, and then there are moments where it’s time to zero in on the afternoon wine tasting and fewer words just work better than the rundown. Times where you can’t shut up because he wants to hear every single detail about every single thing you’ve done since he saw you last, in the most caring way possible, and moments where it feels like you’ve been happily married and tied at the hip for twenty years and you don’t need to share out because the quietness is just as good.

“That’s when you know you’ve found somebody really special, when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share a silence.”

He reached over the center console and put his hand on your bare knee, calloused fingers treading so lightly and yet instantly sending jolts of goosebumps throughout your entire body. You both kept your eyes on his hand as it trailed up your thigh, contrasting skin slipping inward to make you gasp and giggle. It’s big, veiny, and utterly mesmerizing to watch as it moves.

You were silent as you watched, apart from the audible blushing in your breath, then looking up to him through your lashes. The hem of your dress was pushed up and up and he inched closer and closer to your core until you were shuddering and unable to blink.

“Simon…” you breathed, and he straightened his shoulders, eyes meeting your fuck me ones. “Please.”

Well, he couldn’t say no to that, now, could he?

He got you in the backseat of his car, straddling his lap with him shoving his tongue in your mouth so strongly it was almost too overwhelming. His body heat, his muscles; you felt it all.

There wasn’t much time for comfort before his hands were slipping under your dress and groping at the plush fat of your bent hips. He pinched and slapped your ass to pull those cute whines from you, lips quivering right up against his own, and then smoothed small circles over the skin with his thumbs and palms to ease the sting. His hands went further to feel up your waist, just under your tits and stopping there. He wouldn’t dare mess up your pretty outfit just yet, but he loves to see you whining for more.

He pulled barely an inch away from your face, with a great, cocky smirk coating his expression. “No bra?” Your already flustered face had somehow gotten even more heated in front of him; he really knows how to work you up. He chuckled, “You naughty little devil.”

His hand met the back of your head and pulled you right back in as the other was returned to your waist. He nudged and encouraged you to move your hips, so you did, back and forth ever so slightly to start out.

But you both needed more than slightly, and he knew it. His grip didn’t yield and instead pressed you down harder onto his lap, causing your movements to stutter from your depraved and clothed clit getting harshly rubbed up against his firm bulge. Your lips halted in an open form, moaning into his mouth, and he snickered at the fact.

Grinding down on a man his size was no easy feat but you gave it your all nonetheless, makeout turning sloppier and more desperate by the second. But messy has always been his favorite when it comes to you and that body.

You always lose track of time so easily when you’re with him, and same goes for him. You’re dangerous, and he loves it. Neither of you had even noticed the sky turning from a pale blue to pitch darkness in the time between then and when he had brought the car to a stop.

His hand, rough and straightforward as ever, moved to slip between the two of you and into your panties, cupping your cunt. You gasped at the coldness of his touch and he hummed at your warmth, delving two fingers between your folds before you could totalize it all in your head. “That feel alright, honey?”

You nodded with a squeak of a whine, and he took that as his cue to push further.

“So fuckin’ tight…’n wet…all for me, sweetheart?”

He shoved his fingers deeper, and you choked on air. “Y-yes. All yours,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” he razzed on. He knew he was beginning to test your limits, even if you wouldn’t admit it. “Well, I want you to take what you want from me, then, love. Make yourself come ‘nd I can watch.”

You swallowed thickly; it was never a question with him. Your kneedy hands wrapped around the thick arm leading to your cunt and you began to rock your hips back and forth, eyes closed. The friction and the reaction it pulled from you was instantaneous, but you’re no quitter. He adjusted his fingers upwards and curled them a bit, causing you to stutter out a broken and shy moan from your slacken jaw.

“Come on, sweetheart, that’s it…grind that little cunt down on my palm f’me. Fuck yourself on my fingers, make it feel good.”

You increased the pressure with which you grounded yourself down on his palm; you really wanted to make him proud. The heel of his palm dug ferociously at your clit in all the best ways, allowing you to feel up every callous and year of strenuous work on his skin; he’s a skilled man, a provider. The same hand he brought to countless countries to do God knows what to the enemy soldiers, working at your cunt so sweetly you’re sure you’d have actual hearts in your eyes if it were physically possible. You don’t have to worry your pretty, little head about the gritty half of his life, however; he’s reassured you an infinite amount of times, and will continue doing so until he retires.

He fucked you with his fingers just right, like he knew you better than you knew yourself. He’d always have you unraveling and drunk in front of him in mere seconds, doesn’t matter if it’s been weeks or minutes since the last time, on his fingers or tongue or cock. However it be, he always takes care of you.

“Jusst like that…there ya go, honey. Makin’ a proper fuckin’ mess of my hand, aren’t ya? Tirin’ yourself out, now?”

He watched on, witnessing the affects his words had on you; he’d have to be an idiot not to notice them, and he let it fuel his ego freely.

“So fuckin’ stunning… You gonna come f’me, love?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding feverishly and nearly busting your lip with how hard you were biting down on it to keep your sanity. It’s so fucking close, you could just barely reach it.

“Mhm?” he mocked. “Pretty pussy must’ve been so needy while I was away, I bet.” Damn him, for even his mean side is still so gratifying. “‘S a good thing I’m here, now…make this cunt feel real fuckin’ loved. Ain’t it right, sweetheart?”

As if on cue, you came on his hand with a broken moan, practically clawing at his thick forearm as he continued to work at you until you were seeing flashes of white with pink roses in your closed off vision. Your eyes shot open, breathing erratic and pupils blown out, and were met with his smug face.

“There’s your answer,” he commented. Fuckin’ meanie. He pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy and brought them to his mouth, sticking his tongue out wide and to taste that cum of yours he missed so much. You watched on, dumbfounded, and he clearly enjoyed the audience.

Heaven, and you should know it. He’s a kind man; he shares.

Before you could think, he shoved his fingers between your lips and against your hot tongue without a warning, forcing a whine from deep in your throat. Saliva mixed with cum mixed with spit. You took them greedily as he was the one to watch that time, lust and stupefaction and all the feelings bundled up into his observant, anthracite eyes. He taunted once more, “It’s nice, innit?” with an unruly snicker.

You nodded with his fingers still in your mouth, the amount of space they took up utterly inordinate, until they were clean. He pulled them out and praised you for the good cleaning before telling you, “Tell me what you want. Right here, ‘nd now.”

With your hands already at his zipper, palming his erection while you silently begged to take it out of his pants, you told him, “Want your cock-…need you to t’fuck me, please,” through tired and desperate chokes. You were about ready to cry if you had to sit on his lap and be without his cock stuffed deep in your cunt for another minute. “Need it so fucking bad, Si.”

The man leered and chuckled at your cute patheticness, his hand finding yours on his crotch. “Mmh. With pleasure.”

—

Now, as you’re speared open on his cock in the backseat, sitting on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, you can’t seem to think much about anything but him. The way his cock fills you so nicely, all big and relentless just like the rest of him. He just makes you so dizzy; it’s as easy as one glance and half the time you don’t even know if he means it or not. It’s like he has you under an unbreakable spell, or whatnot.

“Gotta start movin’ ya now, sweets,” he says, like he’s a man who’s sorry but knows he’s right. And he’s always right.

You lift your head from his shoulder, eyes all glossy and lit up by the car’s interior lights, so fucking desperate for him. You nod in understanding before stationing your hands on his broad shoulders and slowly raising your hips a few inches with the help of his heavy hands on your hips, hissing through your teeth turning into a whimper-esque moan as you sink back down. It burns, stings, yet repairs all with a kiss to your cervix.

Your post-orgasm slick is making it a snug fit, but you fear your legs will seize up seeing how unreliable they are after just coming once. And it’s still one hell of a stretch. Collect yourself, breathe, and you’re doing it all again. Slowly, until you’re eventually riding him so leisurely with his assistance.

“Good girl,” he drags out, impossibly long and sultry. It hits you right in the gut like it always does, and you feel that tingling behind your ear from how close you are to him. “My good fuckin’ girl, made to take this cock. Ain’t that right?”

You’re not going to last long with such a sensitive cunt having finished hard only a moment ago. The fabric of his jeans grinds so wonderfully right up against your nerves in the particular position, and your brain is utterly fried. You know nothing more but to fuck yourself on this cock until you physically can’t anymore and your lungs give out.

He stretches you out and fills you beyond what you can handle, but you’ve always tried your best to make it work for him. He’s just so fucking sweet on you, how could you not make an effort?

You’ve got the hang of it. It’s not often you get to be on top of him, but you’re doing a nice job on proving he should let you more often. Christ, he’d die a very happy man like this if it was up to him. You move to gently push his hands aside and he gives you a surprised, yet still taunting, look. You return with a smirk of your own, for once.

Your hands plant themselves on your thighs to give him a nice show as you very slowly bounce yourself on his cock, careful not to be hitting your head on the ceiling each time like an idiot, with him all leaned back and soaking in the view. Your fingertips curl around the end of your dress and hike it up your lap, teasing his eyesight with what it could reach. You stop just before he gets to see your cunt swallowing him whole, and he groans at both the prospect and what he’s missing out on. He shakes his head. Surprise is quick to turn to disapproval, though all still the same amount of playfulness.

“So pretty like this, darlin’. One of your best looks.” His praise can come with the slightest belittling kick to it more often than not, and you eat it up every time like a starved girl to a feast.

He adjusts to be more comfortably seated which, of course, comes with him just barely jutting his hips upwards. He somehow manages to hit that far-too-sweet of a spot in you with the small movement, and you fall forward onto his chest with hands rushing and mostly failing to catch yourself.

“Silly woman,” he huffs. “Don’t lose your balance, when you’re doin’ so good.” You raise your head to scold him with your eyes but he’s so quick to give you an atypical pout in return, leaving you with mixed emotions running rampant in your mind and heart and gut. He tells you, “Don’t gimme that face, now. C’mon, then. Aren’t ya gonna kiss me?”

You do so in a heartbeat, but not without a roll of your eyes to keep him in check. Suddenly, you’re more interested in chasing your own high than his. But don’t get it wrong; that was his plan from the start; get you riled up so you’ll take what you need from him. He knows what he’s doing, at all times. You push yourself from his chest with your hands back to being planted firmly on his shoulders and you begin riding him again with a newfound, eager energy. Back to grinding, more so.

“There she is,” he laughs. “All mean ‘nd angry, using my cock like the rightful toy she deserves.” And you can’t disagree.

“Come on, keep those pretty eyes on me, now.”

“Fuck, Si—‘m trying.” Your thighs burn and you struggle to reopen your eyes every time you find that they’ve closed on their own.

He takes in the sight and burns it into his memory for good, right next to every other time he’s had you all fucked-out and cockdrunk under him. Having you absolutely struggling to take everything he gives you but oh-so willing every time because he’s just so fucking caring with it. In the backseat of his car, though? That’s a new one.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to spark in your belly, right where he’d see that moving bulge in your stomach he always obsessed over so dearly, and would be now if it weren’t for your dress in the way. His cock twitches inside you at the prospect, even the smallest of groans ghosting his lips. You’re tumbling so fast and so blindly into your orgasm and you can’t even think about how it may be your stamina’s killer for the evening. He offers his hand and you take it. Gentleman.

You lace your fingers with his, using it to ground yourself and level your head. And it makes the entire experience all the more intimate; you fuck like you love each other because the words going unsaid as of now won’t stop them from being true.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Wanna feel you squeezin’ my hand when you come on my cock. Lemme hear those pretty noises ya like makin’ for me.”

He tends to talk a lot when he’s buried deep inside you; he’s cocky, he can’t help it. Despite his words majorly being muffled in your hearing, the volume of your moans and whines increase like he asked for. Each noise you make comes with a punch of butterflies to his stomach, and he’s never enjoyed the fictitious, creepy-crawlies as much as he does now.

He admires how your face contorts with pleasure, brows gone all low and straight with your jaw hanging slightly open and eyes closed. He feels how close you're getting with your stuttering and uneven movements, and how you’re practically strangling his cock as tension builds up in your gut.

Like he’s nothing but warm flesh for you to use to get off in this moment, and your entire world in others and especially now, even after his relentless teasing. He doesn’t mind being both. Lie; he hopes he’s both. He needs to be everything you need, and what you need now is a small push of worshiping degradation. He knows you, nearly better than you know yourself, and you’re not afraid to say it.

You’d be dead without him, in all honesty. He puts up with you, and you put up with him, in ways no other humans would. You’re better than good for each other, more often than not.

He scoffs with bemuse, “Even prettier when you let me fuck you so hard I ruin your lovely hair ‘nd makeup.” His eyes ricochet between your dilated ones, a nasty smirk on his lips. You’re utterly gone. “Yeahh, that’s right…I know you like it, too, pretty girl…doin’ amazing, takin’ what I give you so well… Like my loyal little fuckin’ whore,” he spits, with love.

You come hard on his cock and it sucks every bit of energy from you, exuded through uncontrolled moans and heavy breathing and the fierce death-grip you have on his hand. He talks you through it until you finish riding it out, and he swaddles you in his arms the second you fall slack against his broad front. He’s here to serve you in your every step.

And he hasn’t gotten anything.

“—‘m sorry, Si…I don’t know if I can keep going yet,” you pant. “…’t’s too good. Need a break.”

Was your mascara really running? You hadn’t even noticed.

He breathily chuckles at your words. Edge him for hours and the sick bastard laughs. Though, you haven’t given him much of a choice, considering you’ve just let him fuck you silly in the steel and leather compartment of his car and now you’re catching your breath as you lean your full weight on him. He never thought he’d find something so caging to be so comforting for him.

“It’s alright, love, I know you’re tired.” His arms wrap tightly around you and savors it. He’d be a dead man if it weren’t for your warmth and hugs. “Y’did such a nice job, as always.”

His teeth will rot if he keeps up with this all. Routine of praise, abandonment of brutality. He’s lucky he was never one for showing teeth whenever you make him smile. Makes the illusional—and hopefully never of his reality—cosmetic change easier on the both of you.

Seriously though, anything but the teeth.

An idea pops into his head; it’s no flashing, spur-of-the-moment idea, but rather one that has been brewing in his mind for a long time, and with no clue on how or when to introduce it to you. Now, however, it feels just right. Still, it comes out in a mumble, partly to comply for the close proximity but mostly because he’s never been good with this kind of stuff.

Vulnerability, ‘nd all that crap.

“Want you to move into my place.”

Best saved for when he’s just fucked you into a near-coma in the backseat of his Mustang.

You amusedly hum into his shoulder, still so drunk on your highs you can barely process exactly what he’s putting out there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Whaddya think? I like it well enough…imaginin�� waking up to that beautiful face, all wrapped up in my sheets…walkin’ around the kitchen ‘nd wearin’ my clothes after I fuck you real nice every mornin’. Isn’t that a pretty sight?”

His last words bite you right in the sweet spot as they graze past your ear, and you’re suddenly a weak, giggling, and borderline whining mess atop him. “You might break me at that rate,” you warn.

It’s difficult to ignore his hard cock still shoved deep inside you during such a tender moment, especially with the way you’re involuntarily writhing with his and your words.

“Every other mornin’ then,” he reasons, and you can’t help but giggle. “You’re laughin’ but I ain’t joking, sweetheart. That’s another thing, wanna hear that laugh all fuckin’ day when I’m home. I’ll never get tired’ve hearin’ it.”

You finally manage to pull your flustered face from the crook of his neck, looking at him with a surprised smile like you’ve just discovered the secret meanings to time and space and they all lie within his marked up face. “You’re serious?”

“‘Course I’m bloody serious.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing, while you never thought you’d hear the words.

A step forward. You’ve been waiting, but can’t exactly say you’ve been expecting.

“You’ve stayed the night plenty before, I doubt it’ll be any different. I’ll give you the fuckin’ key right now.”

You grin huge—so bright and lively he thinks he may just catch it like a disease—before leaning down and gently smashing your lips against his. He returns the gesture, a classic smirk fighting its way through.

Gently smashing. It makes sense, between the two of you.

You pull away slowly and barely, muttering to him through your smile, “I accept your key.”

He hums a satisfactory one, rolling his shoulders back against the hard leather seat as if his mind isn’t running rampant with a billion thoughts, all revolving around you and happiness. He realizes he hadn’t ever had the chance or reason to sit in the back before. He definitely belongs up front in the driver's seat. It’s a miracle he even has enough leg room to fit you on his lap.

“Although,” you start with a hint of sarcasm in your voice, though he still furrows his brows urgently. What could possibly be in the way? Who does he have to kill to fix it? “I’m gonna get lonely in a house that big, when you’re off getting deployed in another country.”

Every god-damn terrorist on the planet, apparently. His retirement party better be worthwhile.

A dagger to the heart he’d happily take again simply because it’s got a part of you. In this case, it’s far-too-real words that are laced in your charming voice.

“We’ll get a dog.” His words are said so nonchalantly and it’s a conscious decision, as if they aren’t the most important things in the world for the both of you. So determining for your future together, and so sweet despite his downright rough and gruff drawl. So much emotion in such a seemingly emotionless voice. “Even let you name it.”

You smile impossibly bigger, and it’ll go on to continue growing with every half-sentence he utters. “You’d do that for me?”

“Oh, I’d do anythin’ for you, love.”

You throw your arms around his neck with an excited squeal, practically strangling the man with love. He takes you graciously, big arms tightening around your waist, but tries to calm you like a wild dog by moving a hand up to the back of your head, buried in his shoulder once again, and patting it.

“…s’long as I approve of it. Sound about right?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you mumble, locked onto him. “Does this mean I get to drive this car while you’re away?”

He laughs, chest inflating for a split second and taking you up and down with it. “God, no. Maybe I’ll let you drive the Charger, but this beauty isn’t goin’ anywhere without me behind that wheel.”

“Damn,” you hiss. Obviously. “Was worth a shot.”

“Smart thing,” he murmurs. You sink your slack body into him impossibly closer, every muscle relaxed beyond what you thought they were capable of because he’s just that comfortable. The squishiest chest you’ll find on a man.

“….Gonna be my pretty, li’l housewife.”

“Even though I have a job and we aren’t married?”

“Even though you have a job and we aren’t married,” he repeats, sighing the entire time.

He can change at least one of those things. He’s gonna change one of those things.

He starts again, “Seems like you’ve got your energy back. And you still have a job to do, little miss.”

You groan dramatically into his neck when his hands find your waist, very sadly attempting to pull you off him for only a moment. Groans fluidly turn to whimpers and you’d be stomping your feet in protest if you could, but your stubbornness has always translated to playful arousal.

“Don’t worry, love,” he chuckles. “I’ll help ya out.”

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost cod

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leviismybby · 1 year

Text

AOT veterans men and random things/kinks they do during sex

Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith and Miche Zacharias x fem!reader (NSFW 18+, minors dni)

Levi

Marking, Levi bites on any skin that he puts his lips on. He likes having you in missionary not only because he can see the pleasure he brings you and kiss you but because he gets a chance to color your neck in dark purple marks that will stain your skin for days. He won't spare your thighs, stomach and hips either. "Mmm look at that, are you going to cover up these? Or let the whole world see how much you love being marked by me."

Spanking, especially in doggystyle, Levi's hand comes down harshly against your skin leaving red prints behind as he fucks you roughly. He also loves spanking your thighs while eating you out. As soon as your thighs try to close around his head, he lands a harsh slap on your skin. "Be a good girl, keep those pretty fucking legs spread."

Overstimulation, Levi likes the thought of being the only thing in your brain and he won't stop until he hears you say it. You have cum countless times around his cock, his tongue,but Levi wasn't yet satisfied. His fingers work on you at a ruthless pace, your thighs shake, and filthy moans leave your swollen lips. "Gonna cum again for me yeah? Gonna show me how much you love it when your Captain makes you cum yeah? Scream my fucking name."

Choking, Levi enjoys choking you during sex, any position where he can grab your neck is good for him. His rough thrusts make you roll your eyes back, whimpers leaving your lips. "Why the useless stupid sounds baby? I already know that you love getting fucked like a whore."

Degradation, Levi can be very mean at times especially if he thinks that you deserved it, he usually praises you, so you learned to take it as punishment if he gets rude with words. His cock pounds into your mercilessly, almost making you scream. "You're nothing but a slut aren't you? A slut for my cock, I can be the worst man on earth and you would still let me fuck you into oblivion."

Erwin

Cockwarming, Erwin loves having you ride him while he is busy with work and he also loves halting all of your movements and having your warm walls wrapped around his cock. No matter how much you beg for him to move, he doesn't. "Don't get ahead of yourself dear, I'm the one in control, and if you keep complaining It'll be like this for the rest of the night."

Belly bulge, his blue eyes land on the little bulge that appears when he pushes his thick cock deep inside of you. He can't help but put his hand against it, pressing down on it, watching you lose your mind beneath him. "Look at how deep inside of you I am darling, look."

Authority kink, Erwin gets extra into it if you call him Commander. He enjoys the fact that he has this power over you on and off the bed. As soon as you call him by his name, he stops moving taking your jaw and making you look at him. "That's not my name is it? Already forgot who I am I see, let's change that."

Creampie, he has absolutely zero shame about it, the sight of your legs shaking as his cum drips out of you will always be his favorite. Erwin cums deep inside of you and sometimes even hopes that your belly will be growing with his child. "Gonna breed you sweetheart, wanna make me a daddy? You'll look so pretty with my children inside of your belly dear."

Blindfold sex, again Erwin loves control and there is nothing better than seeing you with your eyes covered as he has his way with you, slapping your dripping cunt before diving his head between your thighs. "You want to see me? Too bad, I'll have you shaking and crying once I'm done with you my sweet."

Miche

Nipple play, his big hands love teasing and playing with your nipples. Miche will always take his time when his mouth is on your nipple, swirling his tongue around your buds and sucking them gently. "I haven't even touched you where you need me most and you're already cumming? Naughty girl."

Size kink, Miche is a big guy and he enjoys manhandling you like no one else. He picks you up so effortlessly and slams you down on his cock, your body looks small to his in comparison. "My word how easy you are to break, look at how wet you are."

Praise, as much as he loves being rough with you, Miche is a gentle giant. He would kiss your face in little pecks and whisper in your ear. "You're taking me so well, love. Such a good girl for me. I'll give so much more if you want."

Gagging, he has his hand tangled in your hair as you struggle to take him in your mouth, don't worry he knows what to do. He presses you further down onto his cock and you gag slightly, drool dripping down the side of your lips onto him. "You love it don't you? When I choke you on my cock like that, good girl."

Bondage, a piece of advice, don't piss him off or else you're in for a ride. Miche has you tied to his headboard as he ever so slowly makes his way between your thighs. "Have I not told you to behave? If you moan once, I'll put a gag in your mouth understand? Let's see if my pretty girl can handle it."

---------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @levisgreyeyes @luvjiro @lovolee3 @ackermendick @laraackerman

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twistedwonderworm · 10 months

Note

Hello worm!!

Can i request perhaps smut AFAB with Jade leech and size kink 🫣

Hi!! Sorry this took so long but here you go! I hope you enjoy it!!!

Little Angelfish (TWST NSFW)

Pairing: Jade Leech x AFAB!reader

Warnings: Size kink, afab terms, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, rough sex, creampie, degradation

Word count: 918

🍄🍄🍄🍄🍄

It had always occurred to Jade how much larger he was than most other students at NRC, especially in his mer form. It just never really affected him like it was now. Sure, his size intimidated the other students around him, but he was sure he would still be as intimidating even if he was smaller. It was all in his personality after all. Though, now why was he thinking about his height so much?

This was all because of Y/N of course. They had been dating for a while, and every time they spent time together, Jade was reminded about how small they were. It made him feel… powerful. It made his heart race, but he could never do anything about it. Until tonight, that is.

He wasn’t working at the lounge tonight thankfully so he was able to spend some time with his beloved. They were watching a movie in Y/N’s room so that they’d have less chance of Floyd barging in and disturbing them. Though less chance didn’t mean exactly zero so Jade made sure the door was locked before they started.

Y/N was settled between Jade’s legs, their back leaning against his chest. The laptop was resting on the bed in front of them, but the movie was pretty much forgotten by now. Jade was nipping and kissing Y/N’s neck, careful not to break the skin just yet. One of his hands had slipped into Y/N’s shorts, rubbing them through their underwear.

“You’re so tiny in my arms, angelfish~” The eel purred into his lover’s ear, “You’re so tiny, it would be so easy to just snap you in two~” He could feel Y/N getting wetter through their underwear, and he smirked. “Did that really get you excited~? My, my, angelfish~ you’re such a naughty one aren’t you~?”

Y/N squirmed and whimpered, trying to get more friction from his long fingers, “P-please stop teasing me, J-Jade~” They whined when his free arm wrapped around their waist, stopping their movements. “N-not fair~” They mewled.

“Well I didn’t tell you that you could move, did I~?” his sweetly dangerous voice purred into their ear. His long, talented fingers slipped into their underwear and inside his lover, causing them to mewl out and attempt to rock their hips against his fingers. He chuckled again. “So, what should I do with such a disobedient little Angelfish~? Maybe I should leave you alone in this room in this pathetic state~”

The threat had Y/N’s thighs tightening around Jade’s wrist, making the eel chuckle again, “N-no please don’t leave me alone…”

Jade shrugged, “Or maybe I’ll just give you what you want and break you in half~” He rocked his hips against Y/N, letting them feel the bulge that tented the front of his pants. “Do you want me to do that, little slut~?”

Y/N nodded, begging him to do that. It just made Jade growl in their ear, his voice full of desire as he moved them off his lap and letting them lay on the bed. He carefully removed their underwear, fighting the urge to just tear it off of them. No sense in destroying the garment.

Y/N was so small that he could very easily maneuver them into his lap. He thumbed at their clit with one hand, the other fishing out his cock. Y/N shivered as he rubbed the leaking head through their folds, teasing them even more.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, his voice low in their ear.

They nodded, “Yes, I do. P-please fuck me, love~” Jade didn’t need to be asked twice as he placed his hands on their hips and pushing his cock into them. They mewled and gasped, rocking his hips, and he chuckled before gently bouncing them on his lap, his smirk growing bigger every time they moaned loudly. They were so very small that even with them on top, he was still in control. He could just use them as his little toy if he wanted to. However, he kept doing what he was doing, knowing they’d ask him if they wanted him to change anything.

They seemed to enjoy being bounced on his cock like this, as they were lipm against his chest, wanton moans spilling from their pretty, part lips. Jade smirked and turned their head slightly to kiss them deeply. His hips bucked up harder and faster as he pushed his tongue into their mouth, their moans being muffled by the rough kiss. They came undone far quicker than he did, and he smiled as he lifted them off his cock and placed them gently on the bed.

“You’re not done though,” they whined, looking up at him.

The eel smiled down at them and nodded, “You’re right, love. But I’m going to fix that.” He wrapped their legs around his waist and pushed back into his lover again. His pace was even harsher this time as he couldn’t hold himself back, but Y/N didn’t mind. They threw their head back and nearly screamed in ecstasy, their body rocking with their boyfriend’s thrusts. The overstimulation was overwhelming them as Jade leaned over them, caging their body against the bed with his larger one as he nipped lightly at their neck. He didn’t let up on his pace for even a moment as he felt himself getting closer and closer. He finished just as Y/.N came undone once again, the two lovers laying on the bed, panting together as they enjoyed each other’s company.

#horni worm #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #smut #twst smut #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #afab reader #afab terms #jade leech x reader #jade leech #jade twst #twst x gn reader

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year

Text

Short Skirts And Lacy Panties

modern!teacher!rhaenyra x reader smut

A/N: I’ve never written smut before so pls be nice to me also reader is 18 in this

TW: SMUT!!, spanking (like a lot), smacking tits, mommy kink, lots of degrading, rhae is like so mean and hot, inappropriate teacher/student relationship, theres probs more idk

word count: 1,873 words

You could swear that she looks at you a little too long. Everyday when you walk into her class, you’re sure that she checks you out. Perhaps you’re on to something or perhaps your massive crush on your English teacher is clouding your judgement.

You decide to test out your theory of attraction when you show up to class one day with your uniform skirt rolled up and the top of your blouse unbuttoned. You walk into the classroom nervously as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt, wondering if you should pull it down. You decide to be brave and walk past her desk with your head held high.

“Good morning, Mrs. Targaryen.” You greet her politely, as you do everyday and she looks up from her computer. If she is surprised, then her face doesn’t show it.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” Her eyes rake slowly over your figure but then she looks back at her computer, not sparing you another glance.

You’re slightly annoyed, thinking that you must’ve been wrong about her affections because when you go and sit in your seat, she practically ignores you for the rest of the class.

When the bell rings for lunch, you’re surprised when she calls you over to her desk.

“Yes, Ma’am?” You ask as the rest of the class filters out of the room.

“Roll your skirt down. If you come to class like that again, you will be… punished.” There is almost a lustful look in her eyes when she says the last word.

“S-sorry.” Your cheeks go pink as you roll your skirt back down and quickly walk out of the room.

Gods I must be crazy. You think to yourself but you know that she was looking at you with want. She had to be.

It’s a stupid idea, a very stupid idea when you decide to strut into her class the next day with your skirt rolled even shorter and the top two buttons of your blouse undone. But what's the worst that can happen? You may get detention if you’re unlucky but if you’re lucky… who knows?

You don’t acknowledge her as you walk in, instead moving to sit at your desk so that you don’t get caught out right away. When she begins teaching, her eyes zero in on you. You look down at your worksheet to avoid eye contact.

Rhaenyra thinks that you’re some kind of insolent brat, flaunting yourself to her like a little slut. She knows exactly what you are doing.

You bite at the tip of your pencil in a falsely innocent gesture as you pretend to focus on something on your page. Your legs spread ever so slightly in a way that could be perceived as entirely accidental. This gives her just the slightest glimpse of your lacy white panties.

She is appalled by your actions, she knows you’re trying to tease her and get a reaction and it is most definitely working.

When class ends, you pack up slowly, allowing all the other students time to filter out of the classroom. She stops you before you can have a chance to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To lunch.” You say in a bratty tone, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“My office. Now.”

You walk in front of her to her office and when you get in, she closes the door behind the both of you and locks it.

“Is something the matter, Mrs. Targaryen?” You ask with a sense of faux innocence as you bite your lip.

Her eyes sweep over you and your dangerously short skirt. She wants nothing more than to pin you up against the wall and rip that uniform off of you.

“You know exactly what the matter is, brat.” She looks at you sensually, a small smile growing on her lips. “You’ve been a dirty, naughty girl.” Your breath hitches in your throat.

“And how have I been dirty and naughty ma’am?” You feign innocence.

“You come into my classroom, trying to distract me with your blouse unbuttoned and those… cute little… white panties on display.” You walk over to her desk as she speaks and sit yourself on top of it.

“Ohh… these panties?” You ask, biting your lip as you spread your legs.

“Filthy, little whore.” She scoffs. “I think that you need to be punished.”

“Punished?” You ask, your voice sickeningly sweet.

“I’ll show you what happens to naughty little schoolgirls who flash their panties to their teacher.” She picks up a ruler. “Bend over the desk and flip your skirt up.”

“W-What?” You flush red, not really having expected that.

“You need to learn the consequences of your actions… what’s a better way than a good old fashioned spanking.” The lust is obvious in her eyes and the excitement starts to grow inside of you. “Don’t tell me that a brat like you has never had a good and proper spanking?”

“No I-I haven’t ma'am.”

“This’ll be a fun little first for you then.” She says and she is obviously becoming impatient as she grabs you roughly by the wrist and forces you to bend over the desk before flipping your skirt up.

You’re almost stunned into silence at this point as she runs her hand over your ass, rubbing the lace of your panties between her fingers. You feel her hand move away.

“Ah!” You let out a choked moan as she lays down the first swat with the ruler.

“Be quiet.” She scolds before she gives you a few more hard hits.

She spanks you for a little longer before throwing the ruler onto the desk next to you. She then begins to grope at your red ass before pulling your panties down.

“H-Hey!” You protest before the panties are shoved into your mouth.

“Naughty girls get spanked bare.” She says before giving you a sharp smack with her hand.

She then spreads your legs some more before swiping two fingers along your bare folds. You let out a muffled whimper.

“Gods, you’re fucking soaked.” Say says as she examines her fingers that are now dripping with your arousal. “What kind of slut gets this wet from her teacher spanking her?” You receive another harsh smack.

She spanks you twice before taking your panties out of your mouth. She sees that your eyes are watering.

“Oh my poor sweet girl. I think you deserve a reward for taking your punishment so well.”

She drags her fingers along your wet slit, teasing you as she doesn’t quite touch you where you need it most.

“P-Please… mommy.” You beg, not meaning for the name to slip out.

“Aww do you need mommy to touch you more, princess?” She asks with a smirk.

“Yes.” You let out a high pitched whine as she pushes two fingers inside of you.

“Keep quiet. You wouldn’t want anyone hearing us now would you?”

You nod, trying not to moan as she curls her fingers inside of you, finding that rough spot.

“You like that. Don’t you, baby?” You let out a soft whimper in response and then you feel her hot tongue against you.

She rolls your clit between her fingers and her tongue thrusts in and out of you. You moan, louder than before and she immediately stops.

“N-No.” You whine.

“I told you to be quiet, brat.”

She grabs you by the hair, yanking you up and off of the desk so you’re standing. She grabs your panties again and shoves them in your mouth.

“Perhaps you don’t want to cum. Is that why you disobey me?” She asks and you shake your head insistently. “Hmm… maybe you just need a little more punishment.” She begins to unbutton your blouse. She bites her lip when she notices your lack of a bra, feeling more aroused. “What a filthy little whore you are.”

She pinches at your nipple, causing you to groan through your panties before picking up her ruler. She smacks it against your tits a few times and your eyes well up with tears.

“Does that hurt, little girl?” You nod and she smiles, smacking your chest once more.

She walks over to sit in her chair, looking at you as you stand in front of her. Her pretty submissive girl. She is happy with her work, your tits now as rosy red as your bottom and tears in your eyes.

“Kneel.” She points at the floor in front of her. “You’ll have to earn it if you want to cum.”

You immediately kneel in front of her as she pulls off her panties. You spit out your own panties and get to work. You eat her pussy like a woman starved and you bring your hand up to rub her clit but she slaps it away.

“Make me cum with your tongue and your tongue only and then, you may have your release.”

“Yes, mommy.” You nod and go back to licking at her wet pussy feverishly.

Your tongue works at her clit as she grips at your hair. You can tell that she is close.

“Good fucking girl.” She says as she cums on your face and you lick up the residue. You sit there for a moment, panting as your lips shine with saliva and arousal.

“My turn?” You ask hopefully and she thinks for a moment before patting her leg.

“Ride my thigh.” You didn’t think you could blush any harder.

You do as she says, straddling her leg as she pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Your tongues dance together as you roll your hips against her.

“Oh Gods.” You whimper like a bitch in heat as you grind your clit against the fabric of her dress.

It doesn’t take long for your peak to approach and you moan into her mouth.

“Mommy, please let me cum.” You beg her, writhing in her lap as you make a wet spot on her dress.

“Go ahead, princess. Cum.”

Your orgasm crashes down on you and you literally ride out your high as your hips come to a staggering stop. She rubs your back as you bury your face in the crook of her neck.

“Good girl. You did good.” She coos.

She helps you up to stand as she begins to dress you. She buttons your blouse back up and zips your skirt but she pockets your panties.

“You come back after school and I'll have some aloe for your poor bottom and tits.” She says sweetly, like her words aren’t lewd.

“Can I um.. Have my panties?” You ask softly and she laughs.

“No, baby. It’s part of your punishment. Shouldn't have worn such a short skirt. You move the wrong way and you’ll not only flash someone your bare pussy but they’ll see your freshly spanked ass too.” You flush red. “Now run along or you’ll be late for math and then I'll have to spank you again for being tardy.” She teases.

“Yes, ma’am.” You look down at the floor. “See you after school.” You scurry out of her office and she smiles at the thought of your reddened bottom and your kiss-swollen lips.

taglist: @chompchompluke

#rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra x reader smut #hotd #hotd smut #teacher!rhaenyra

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pinkanonwrites · 1 year

Note

OK CONSIDER

Reader who's real similar to Bayonetta (real promiscuous and confident and just- mommy-) just messing with the dorm leaders (or whoever you think would have the most fun reaction) by being real flirty ofc-

Fem!Reader, teasing, not quite NSFW

Riddle starts turning red simply by being in your general proximity. And how could he not?! You're just so- so crass! And the threats of scolding or collaring you only serve to give you more ammunition to throw back in his face, taunting him to not "threaten you with a good time."

He's never been flirted with in his life, so you're really going from zero to a hundred with this poor guy. Your overt and unabashed sexuality leaves him absolutely reeling in your wake, often left stammering and furiously red after you drop one too many perverse one-liners.

Despite your near-constant teasing of him, Riddle also can't help but recognize the kind of person you are beneath the flirtatious remarks and, ahem, powerful poses. He's seen glimpses of your kindness shimmer through the showy exterior, and despite your bombastic personality completely clashing with his he can't find it in his heart to genuinely dislike you.

Equal parts scared and aroused. Scaroused? Confident, dominant women are common in his homeland, so you don't surprise him by any means. But your presence and demeanor is just so commanding that Leona can't help but stand up a little straighter when you're in the same room, despite himself.

He's able to meet you blow-for-blow pretty well when it comes to flirting and naughty remarks, though. He tends to keep his a little more covert, murmured softly to you when no one's paying attention. He can be pretty shameless himself, though he still doesn't fully match your intensity.

Leona more prefers to sit back and watch you fluster others than to be the object of your attention himself. You talk circles around your fellow classmates with ease, and he'll chuckle to himself from a safe distance while you leave the boys of NRC dizzy and flustered in your wake.

You throw him off of his usual rhythm so incredibly easily, it's actually hilarious. Barely a few words need to pass your lips before the normally nonchalant merman is flushing red up to the tips of his ears. Jade and Floyd find these reactions utterly hilarious, much to Azul's chagrin.

Your flirting always seems to start up the same train of thoughts in Azul's mind. Humiliation first, then self-deprecating when he comes to the thought that you couldn't possibly mean all those naughty things you say, not about him of all people. If you ever insist that you do mean them, however, that's when you'll unveil a new level of flustered Azul, stuttering, hand-wringing, unable to keep eye contact with you without bursting out into a rosy blush.

Part of him wants to try and trick you into a contract to help drum up more interest in the Lounge, but another part of him refuses to go through with the idea. Primarily because he knows you're smart enough to figure him out, but also because he doesn't want to have to see you flirting with all of the usual guests (instead of just himself.)

Drop a few lines on Kalim and he'll start giggling and kicking his feet like a school girl, twirling his hair around the point of his finger. He's really weak to your lines, not in the sense of falling apart in embarrassment, but more in the sense that if you asked him to jump off a bridge in that moment he'd probably do it.

Despite all the utterly inappropriate things that could come out of your mouth at any given time, Kalim is most delighted when you call him 'cute' or any variant of the word. It makes him feel all bubbly inside, like he can't help but wriggle around in place because otherwise how else is he gonna let all the excitement out? He's putty in the palm of your hand at this point.

He's not the best with flirty lines, but Kalim is incredibly physically affectionate. So in lieu of him matching you on that front be prepared to be bombarded with hugs and snuggles, nose nuzzles and featherlight kisses on the back of your hand. This is just how he shows his affection, the same way you show yours with your flirty lines.

The first few times you openly flirt with him Vil assumes it's because of his status, and that does leave a pretty rough first impression. Once he gets it in his head that "Oh, you're just like that." His image of you becomes just a touch less harsh. Though he'll still call you utterly classless for being able to say such crude things in public though.

Secretly, when he's sure he's by himself, Vil plays back all the cheesy and flirtatious lines you've fed him over the course of the day in his head, feeling embarrassed by how giddy they make him. Even if you can be utterly crass in your choice of words, you're still feeding Vil the admiration and validation he so desperately craves, and he can't help but feel all flustered in the head about it.

You'll probably never know he feels that way unless he makes the decision to tell you though, because Vil's able to put a wall of stone up between his internal emotions and his outward appearance. Did you calling him sexy make him feel just a bit weak in the knees? Well, if it did, he's never going to admit it to you.

Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. Boy, you though Riddle and Azul were bad about getting flustered around you? Idia actively tries to run away whenever he sees you, because he knows an encounter with you is something his poor, gamer heart just can't take.

You can get about 2-3 words into a flirtatious line before Idia genuinely just starts to scream, hands over his hears 'lalalalala I can't hear you' levels of trying to block you out. Even the beginning of a line is enough to send his mind racing, would he even be able to handle hearing you say the rest of it?

The only time he may seem like he's able to keep himself together is when the two of you are texting. Even though he's blushing and kicking his feet and squealing on the other side of the phone, occasionally he can pull himself together enough to send a text back that may or may not be enough to raise an eyebrow. Only when he's feeling brave though!

Malleus doesn't get flustered so much by your words, but he absolutely preens under your attention. It's obvious to anyone whenever Malleus has gotten to see you because there's a particular floatiness he gets after talking to you, like a tension has been removed from his shoulders. Your praise and perverted lines turn what most people assume to be a ferocious beast into a purring house cat.

Sebek thinks it must be some sort of magic or enchantment, how easily Malleus bends to you every whim. Witchcraft of some sort or another, he insists. In reality, Malleus is just so utterly smitten for you that if you asked him to pull the moon down from the sky he'd transform in a second and start flying up there.

He's the most vocal about not liking to see you flirt with other guys. He has no shame about it too, if he sees you acting the way you do with him with someone else he'll quickly monopolize your attention, making sure your eyes are on him and him alone. "Your words are mine and mine alone, are they not?"

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alwaysaslutforfic · 11 months

Text

Kyoutani Headcanons ❤️ - NSFW

Guess who’s back with some more headcanons 😏 Apparently I have a thing for mean, blond boys

Warnings: again nothing super explicit, mentions of costumes, oral, recording videos

Minors DNI! There is nothing for you under the cut! I MEAN IT!

Unbeta’d cos 🤷🏾

Despite his aesthetic, he’s actually pretty smart. (I mean he did transfer into an academy so) and is also a pretty gentle tutor. He knows what it’s like to be discouraged from doing something you enjoy so he would never make you feel bad for trying even though your answers are just so very wrong

Very high-key low-key scared of heights. You once got trapped on the 20th floor in an elevator with him and seriously considered knocking him out. If you go to a theme park, he will gladly Watch you ride the rollercoasters. (He loves the teacups though)

Actually has a really charming, boyish smile but it only ever comes out around you

Summer freckles. There aren’t a lot of them, but they are prominent. And a gorgeous tan. If it weren’t for the RBF you’d be more worried with how handsome he is in summertime

Loves to push your buttons but would also never want to disrespect you, so you have a lot of random consent talks; “Can I smack your ass?” “…Like right now?” “Just whenever.” “Sure?” “Cool, lemme know if you want me to stop.” — Proceeds to smack your ass literally every time you walk past him, no matter where you are. You nearly slapped him once when he happened to see you in public cos you thought it was a stranger

Says the sweetest shit with the most deadpan of expressions. Has zero shame or reservations about how much he loves you. He’s a straightforward person through and through. Just wanders into the room you’re in and hits you with “You know your my reason for breathing, right?” 😠

Posts gym thirst traps, but without the intent of them being thirst traps. He just likes to track and share his progress but dude is so buff that it just works out that way (he sends all his actual thirst traps to you directly)

Sweaty, sweaty boy but he doesn’t really smell. Probably sweats so much cos he’s always warm and for that reason winter is his favourite season. He doesn’t sweat as much and you’re always cuddling up to him for warmth

Loves anime. Will watch it for hours with you. And not just Shounen too, this man is an anime connoisseur and has the best recommendations no matter the genre. But beware, cos he waits for no one. If you miss an episode that’s on you

Oh shit and his grime selection! Elite!! He heard one song and he was hooked. Started calling Oikawa a wasteman and is endlessly amused by it

Outside of that though, he will listen to any and everything. Music is music and as such his Spotify is a trash heap. Like shit is jarring, and is predominately yelling. Boy doesn’t know the meaning of the word playlist

Be his jetpack 😭 he loves being the little spoon. He nuzzles when he’s sleepy

An early riser but not a morning person. And even worse, he hates the taste of coffee so he’ll just glare blearily for at least an hour whenever he wakes up

But he really enjoys herbal tea. Him showing you his collection is what prompted your biweekly selfcare nights. He doesn’t really know what’s happening, but he’s content to spend time with you and let you do whatever. (He also never knew skin could feel that fucking soft)

Oh and good luck waking him up. There’s a video in the OG Seijoh group chat of him sleeping through 4 different foghorn alarms. He was banned from naps after he slept through lunch and missed his next class and was 15 minutes late to practise cos he just wouldn’t wake up. Just dead to the world once his head hits a pillow

He likes when you wear trashy, slutty outfits. Naughty firewoman/man, naughty nurse, naughty cheerleader, naughty grinch. He likes it even more when you play it up. The naughty teacher fulfilled fantasies he didn’t even know he had

He calls you puppy during sex when he’s feeling particulary dominant and you surprised him with a costume on his birthday compete with ears and a tail. He went three rounds that night and you lost count of how many times you came

He gets worked up being ignored by you, likes having to work for your attention. He could spend hours kissing up and down your neck as you read, ignoring the hard on he’s grinding into your ass. It’s only when he’s manhandling you that you break the ruse

Goes gooey eyed for some head. I’m talking knees shaking, toes curled. Man turns to straight mush. The first blowjob you gave him lasted mere minutes, but it was so hot listening to him whimper as he came in your mouth that you weren’t that upset

(Speaking of whimpers) Deep, growling moans, and pretty little whimpers when he cums. He just sounds so good during sex that you actually get a little excited when he has to go to away games cos that means hearing it directly in your ear through the phone

Loves taking videos of the two of you. He just loves having the view of you and him together on hand. And if he plays them in the background while you fuck once or twice, well your embarrassment only makes it hotter

Will eat you out after the gym. He actually gets upset if you shower first cos you washed off the ✨sparkle✨. He just loves the way you taste in general. He mouths wet kisses into your skin when you fuck just so he can taste you

I have one more of these in the works atm 😜 can you guess who it is?

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq #haikyuu kyoutani #hq fluff #haikyuu #hq kyoutani #kyoutani thirst #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani kentarou

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hoonichi · 2 years

Text

kinktober ‘22 - day six

pairing: fem!reader x intak

words: 732

warnings: mirror sex, dirty talking, usage of baby nicknames, ? that’s all me thinks

a/n: let’s ignore the fact that i missed day five, let’s also ignore that today should be day nine, i have zero motivation

tags: @tanzju & @v0relino <3

kinktober ‘22 masterlist

—

“look at yourself,“ intak growls into your ear, his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. his fingers move up the side of your neck, till he reaches your chin, roughly grasping at your skin forcing you to tilt your head so you can‘t look anywhere other than into your reflection in the mirror, that covers up most of the wall, “look how pretty you look, all stuffed up with my cock“ intak smirks, lowering his head onto your shoulder, while watching the act unfold.

honestly, if you could, you would, but you can barely keep your eyes open from the intense feeling that is intak’s cock driving crazily into you. even so, watching yourself get ruined is making you feel more flustered than before. this newly found position has been already so naughty in the first place.

intak has been thrusting his cock into you, holding your legs open wide and refusing to let them go, proud thoughts of having you under his control being the only thing in his mind. intak wants to ruin you, absolutely fuck your brains out and how else would you know that other than intak showing you?

you reluctantly watch the ruined mascara running down your cheeks, all your preparation for a date with intak going down the drain. your eyes lock with intak’s in the mirror, “won’t look?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, “i can easily make you, you know..”

you shake your head and give in, knowing that intak won’t hesitate to do everything in his power if you refuse. you break the eye contact and slowly look down the mirror. you can see everything; the way intak’s cock moves in and out, and the way you’re clenching around him, some of your juices running down your legs.

the mirror makes everything look more erotic. and you can’t help but moan out loud at that.

intak scoffs in a mocking manner, “does this turn you on baby? you’re getting so fucking wet,”

all you can do is just nod your head. even if it’s embarrassing, you can’t help but feel some kind of way, “keep watching baby, i want you to remember this forever”

with that intak becomes feral, driving his hips into yours, enjoying the way loud and strained moans leave your throat. he grips your legs harder, not wanting to let you fall and rams his cock in and out, making loud squelching sounds every time it meets with your pussy.

“t-too much! inta-aak please!,” you throw your head back on his shoulder, not getting a single minute to catch up on your breaths.

“i told you to watch yourself,” intak growls, voice so deep it makes you instantly look up again.

it even begins to look like the mirror is getting foggy itself. no wonder though, both of your haste breaths been filling up the room for awhile now. soon you begin to lose yourself. it’s all getting too much for you to handle. your legs hurt from being held up for so long and you whine out from the pain.

“fuck, fine,” intak groans out, dropping your legs but pushing you forward instead. you fall down but manage to steady yourself with your arms. intak grabs your legs and makes you kneel before ramming his cock back into you which makes you scream. he’s balls deep again except now you’re being fucked in doggy style.

intak doesn’t waste a moment to grip your hair and force your head up. you look straight into the mirror and the only thing you can see is the way intak is pushing into you, his thrusts hard and fast.

you cry out when his cock hits that one particular spot. it was a bad idea to do so because now intak keeps thrusting continuously into it after hearing your expressive moans.

his hands grip the soft flesh of your waist, “i will cum soon baby” he warns you in advance and all you can do is just nod. you’re nearing your orgasm too.

few more thrusts and intak is cumming, letting out the hottest groans you’ve ever heard. you follow right after him, not being able to hold yourself up anymore and collapsing on the floor. intak still keeps on thrusting into you, this time slowly as if milking out everything that’s left.

he pulls himself out and then slaps your ass with a chuckle, “you did great baby”

#p1harmony smut #intak smut #p1harmony intak smut

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delirious-donna · 2 years

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Love Hurts [Manjiro Sano]

Oct. 21 - Sano Manjiro aka Mikey (Bonten timeline) x female reader

Your boyfriend was the most loving man, most of the time, but sometimes he was the meanest person walking this Earth and he was going to make you cry from the venom he'd spout.

warnings: degradation, mean Mikey, petting in front of others, being called a slut, manhandling, orgasm denial, assisted masturbation, rough blowjob, gagging, unprotected sex, window sex

Masterlist

"You're the light of my life."

"The only person that keeps me out of the darkness."

"I don't know what I'd do without you…"

All claims made time and again by the man that you looked up to above all others. If he were the starless, midnight sky then you were the moon that hung ever-present. Mikey was the love of your life, the constant in a turbulent world that threw every kind of trauma into his path. It wasn't fair, it shouldn't be this difficult for one man, but you hoped that your devotion lightened his load.

You eyed your reflection in the mirror, toes twisting on the tiled floor and your lower lip bitten with dried blood lining the plush flesh that had been glossed and shiny only hours ago. The soft lilac dress mocked you, it was your favourite - his favourite - and you had worn it, especially for him.

It had been a mistake and you knew that now.

The very second your eyes met Manjiro's seated behind his desk, you had known it was a bad day. There was no way you could've known earlier; this morning you had roused him from his slumber in the same way as every other morning. Having to coax him back to consciousness as his face attempted to burrow further into his pillow and the arm hooked around your middle only tightened like a vice.

From the sleepy-eyed, yawning and affectionate lover he had transformed into the dark-eyed, cold and mean criminal boss that took no shit and had zero mercy for anyone. What had transpired to provoke such a stark change? You didn't know and wouldn't until he opened up to you - if he even would do so.

It had been meant as a surprise, a visit to his office to cheer him up and perhaps indulge in some naughty and highly inappropriate shenanigans, but that had been scuppered by the grim expression that turned Manjiro's face cruel.

The way his gaze had raked your appearance, and not in the lustful way you had hoped for but with vehement scorn - well, it had hurt. His finger lifted to beckon you from where you were frozen on the spot mere inches in the doorway.

Now, the almost sympathetic and uncharacteristic expression on Sanzu's face made sense as you had given him a small wave hello on your way towards Manjiro's office. He nodded in reply, his eyes sliding towards the door you were heading for and a slight frown tugging his brow down.

Forcing you to seat yourself upon the edge of his desk, a harsh palm spread your thighs, snapping the hem of your knee socks and only raising a smile when you winced at the snapback against your plush flesh.

"Whose attention are you trying to gain today, hmm?"

Manjiro's cold words had sent the lead weight from your stomach to your toes, there was a dangerous edge to his voice. The shake of his head when you tried desperately to assure him that you were here for him and no one else, the defiant jut of his lip and the fingertips that pushed further into the fat of your ass.

"I doubt that. I wonder who it is that you've got an eye on and what exactly should I do about it?"

You endured being posed upon his lap for the next hour as he took a business meeting with three men you didn't recognise. It was embarrassing, mortifying even, the way they watched as Manjiro's hand crept steadily towards the apex of your thighs before quickly moving their eyes away. The dark chuckle that he offered in response and the shifting feet of both Sanzu and Kakucho who stood against the opposing wall.

"You can look, she wants to be admired like an attention-seeking slut."

Your cheeks had burned with shame, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, but you couldn't deny that you were becoming aroused by how mean he was treating you. How possessive he was acting with those darn hands of his, exploring your curves as he continued to talk business like he wasn't feeling you up.

That first breathy moan that you had tried to stifle, really you had, was the last straw. You were pushed from his knee, catching yourself on the corner of his desk seconds before you would have tumbled to the floor and stared back into a face that was expressionless.

“I’ll see you later… don’t you dare change.”

With those words thrown at you like acid tipped blades, you strode for the door with your head held as high as you could manage. You refused to meet the uncomfortable stares of his second and third in command, instead, choosing to slam the door hard enough that it rattled in its hinges and damn the consequences.

Now, as you gazed at your reflection, your bottle had crashed and you were worried about the kind of man who was about to walk through the door. Whilst you never felt physically endangered by your man, he was nonetheless intimidating and you knew what he was capable of if pushed hard enough.

The front door slammed and a ripple of fear and something else shot from the top of your head right down and into your toes. A tendril of a sinful wish to be humiliated and talked down to washed over you and coated your complexion in a fierce heat.

You felt his presence before your eyes set their sights on his figure, the aura that surrounded him was overwhelming, intimidating and yet your soul answered his flare of power with a welcoming embrace.

Ash blond hair stole your attention, his bangs fell into those voidless eyes and his skin shone under the lights with all the luminance of a low-hanging moon. Dark circles pressed beneath his eyes and you longed to go to him, to soothe him in any way you could and share the burden with him, but it wouldn’t be welcomed - not right now.

Manjiro ignored you, his gaze pointedly fixed on the bed behind your knees as he unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt.

“Touch yourself.”

You jerked as if the two words he spoke were physical blows to your cheek. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his shirt spread open to reveal the honed muscles that you adored to detail with your tongue.

He sighed, a palm rubbing down his face. “Did I fucking stutter? Touch yourself, you’ve dolled yourself up like a proper little whore so you may as well get yourself off,” he hissed.

Your chest flushed at the insinuation, but your hand shakily slid beneath your pretty dress. There was a damp spot on your panties, it had been growing since he had appeared, your heart was betraying the mean words he levelled at you.

“That’s it, touch that slutty little cunt. Bet it’s drenched already. Did you like being drooled over by every man in that room earlier?”

Manjiro was behind you before you even realised he had moved. His strong palm graced the slender column of your throat, fingers and thumb coiling around the sides and squeezing lightly.

“Did you want me to bend you over my desk and show them who you belong to? Who this,” his free hand forced your legs to widen as he cupped your sex and pressed your fingers deeper between your slick folds, “belongs to?”

“Mi-Mikey,” you rasped, letting your head fall against his shoulder with puffs of air passing through your parted lips.

“Calling me that, huh? And where did Manjiro go? You think you get to use that nickname freely? Guess again…”

He manipulated your hand, taking control of your digits and working them aggressively against your pulsing clit. The taut fabric of your panties burned friction into your soaked skin and you whined at the sensation.

“That's enough for you right now,” he stated whilst ripping away your hand and finishing the work on his pants. You felt the heat of his thick cock between your thighs, Manjiro slid himself back and forth as he held the flimsy skirt of your dress to the curve of your spine.

“Goddamn, you were made to please me, you know that right? The perfect pussy to take my cock. Such a slut that you couldn’t wait for me to come home, had to turn up in this slutty outfit and tempt me when I should be working. Flaunting yourself in front of men that have no fucking right to even gaze in your direction.”

His strokes increased as the heat in his voice intensified. Manjiro was fucking his cock between your clenched thighs, the thick ridge of his cockhead catching on your clit with each drag of his hips.

Suddenly, he clamped down on your throat, making you squeak or try to squeak in surprise, and then he was spinning you. Hands on your shoulders as he forced you to your knees and tapped his weeping dick on your lips.

He was a force to be reckoned with, the power of his mood bending you to his will and you could only submit to him. If Mikey was your God, the man you worshipped and adored, then Manjiro was your Devil, the man you feared but admired in sinful secret.

“Open up, suck it good and I'll let you cum on my cock… not that you deserve it.”

Mere seconds after your lips parted, Manjiro was fucking your face with fervour. One hand tangled into your hair and dictated your every movement, holding you so your nose brushed his pelvis and you choked on his cock.

Strands of thick saliva mixed with precum dripped from your chin, having oozed from the sides of your mouth. Gasping and crying from how roughly he was fucking your raw throat. There was no time for your tongue to flick at the veins lining his shaft, for your teeth to gently nip at the ridge of his mushroom tip or for your cheeks to hollow.

Manjiro grunted like a beast, caught between wanting to watch your face with its ruined mascara and fat tears and wanting to let his head fall back, eyes closed in ecstasy.

The worst of his mood seeped out of him, as if he were soothed by the feel of your mouth and how you took his dark side without flinching or looking truly scared. He’d never hurt you, never, never, never. The mantra rang through his head and suddenly he needed you - needed you so damn bad.

Strong hands hooked under your arms, pulling you into a strong naked chest. He hugged you, his embrace so tight that you might pop but before you could protest, your body was spun to face the floor to ceiling windows that showed the dazzling lights of the city.

The glass was cool against your hands and cheek, held against the surface whilst Manjiro manoeuvred you into the position he wanted. Your hips grew back, toes almost tripping over his feet as he planted himself directly between your spread thighs.

One swipe of his sticky cock against your slit and he was pressing into you, he was slow but continuous. There was no lazy back and forth to open you up to take his entirety, this was a languid drive until he was buried up to the hilt.

“Let me show the whole of the city who you belong to. I'd see it burn before I let someone else ever touch you...”

#delirious writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #mikey smut #manjiro sano smut #manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #manjiro sano

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reveluving · 2 years

Text

the highlight of his day

summary: Maintaining academic excellence may be Beckett’s top priority, but he'll always make time for the person who matters most to him.

pairing: beckett harrington x f!mc (written as ‘you’, no name usage)

warnings: fluff, NSFW due to brief mentions of explicit sexual content, so minors DNI!, post-canon/Junior year

a/n: after my recent post, I thought this was the best way to channel my sadness! this is written in a reader insert-style, so it can be you or your OC as the MC we know! I just want y’all to join this Harrington love fest with me lol and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading another choices fic? check out my m.list!

disclaimer! this is a submission for:

‘CFWC Naughty & Nice’ by @choicesficwriterscreations with the prompts (Nice); "My favorite part of the day is seeing your face." & Coffee Shop.

‘Picktober: Choices October Challenge’ by @choicesmonthlychallenge using the prompts (Flufftober); Blushing & Promises.

'"I'll make it up to you." He whispered, his lips hovering over yours. There was so much devotion in his words and while you were flattered by his reassurance, you wanted to take your chance to do the same.' ;

“So, there are mermaids down here?” Much like the rest of the group, one of them was in awe at the fact that one; the chances of seeing merfolks around are low but never zero and two; the view overlooking the crystal-clear lake. The sunlight filtering in and reflecting from the bridge produced a scenic glow, much like the effects of the Golden Hour potion was tasked with just two years ago.

He held onto that memory so dearly, and it wasn't only because of the extra credit he earned.

No, it was the company and the moment itself.

Beckett shook his head as soon as he felt his face getting warmer at the thought. Instead, he refocused on the group of freshmen he was chaperoning. The way they marveled at the picturesque scenery and pointed at the striking corals below them had him puffing up with pride. They were also hoping to spot a shimmery fin swimming by. But he had to admit, even after years of being in Penderghast, the view was like no other. It gave passersby a brief sense of calm as they go about their day.

So far, the tour was going pretty well; from his first-ever warning of the school’s statue and its constant lookout for Atuneless intruders to the school's high-end gallery that could give famous museums worldwide a run for their money. He wanted the tour to be exciting just as it was informative.

“Yes, though even sightings of them remain rare. Not even the ones who have been here their entire academic years were lucky enough to see them, given the merpeople’s suspicion of mankind’s reputation for exploitation and the like.” Beckett responded with ease.

“Have you seen a mermaid, Mr Harrington?” He expected the question but definitely not the title he was given, though he tried not to show his surprise over it. He thought about the question for a moment, their curiosity piquing as seconds passed. He fought a smile, recalling the day Pend Pal hung out by the lake when they were blessed with the rare opportunity.

“I have. Just a glimpse of its tail but a one-of-a-kind experience nonetheless.” He didn’t bother mentioning the time they were lucky enough to visit Lake Tempetua thanks to Zeph and his bucket list. He may love the limelight for his achievements but he’d rather save himself the time. This was about Penderghast, after all, "So, there may be a chance that one of you might see, too. And please, don't call me Mr Harrington. I can assure you that my 20th Birthday is only months away." They all chuckled.

If it wasn’t for Pend Pals, he would’ve never realized that his dry or witty humour, as some would put it, was what made Beckett… well, Beckett.

“Shall we proceed?” The tour continued with them crossing the bridge, their chatters growing louder when they soon realized they were heading to the stadium. But rather than being in awe of the sport or even the stadium itself, some had other priorities.

“I heard one of their Earth-Att's really really hot.” Beckett couldn't drown out the remark, unfortunately. Not especially when they shrilled in excitement right after. Still, he had seen this coming the second he thought of bringing them to the stadium.

Tuneless or not, jocks would always be the it-subject to swoon after, it seemed. And by the same clique who didn't understand personal space. His personal space, no less. They stopped trying eventually, seeing how showed zero to no reaction to their attempts or were silenced by his well-known glare, but that didn't mean they'd stopped giving him the eye from time to time.

At least the stadium truly exceeded the entire group’s expectations, with their oohs and ahhs and Beckett’s new favourite ‘it’s even bigger than the one in Gildegraive!’. He had a hunch that the tour was going to derail from its purpose for a while, and frankly, he didn’t mind because he, too, had his own motives for coming here. With the underclassmen more focused on the arena's interior, Beckett took his chance. Though, it didn't take long for his sharp eyes to find the one person he's been dying to see for months now.

The Sun-Att.

His Sun-Att.

In the middle of the arena, there you stood, next to Zeph as he animatedly talked over the players standing before him. Most likely about their progress or even new tactics for future matches. Griffin, too, chipping in whenever necessary or if Zeph had missed something along the way. Beckett knew he had no chance of turning back, seeing how he naturally was able to spot you right away and honestly, he didn’t mind it one bit.

Beckett and the group were only a few steps away from the team when you, Zeph and Griffin gave your final words and called it a day. Considering how Zeph and Griffin had blocked you from noticing the newcomers, you were about to walk with those who dispersed in the other direction when Zeph pulled you back to his side by your shoulders.

“Look who’s here,” He grinned, “Seems like B-Boy couldn’t wait to see you any longer, and he brought company. Loads of them.”

You blinked, preparing to ask what he had meant when you finally noticed the new set of company. You were really ever able to scan through their faces before beaming at the sight of the tour guide himself. You approached the group with a bounce in your step, with Griffin and Zeph following closely.

“Beckett!” Just having you in front of him had easily become the highlight of his day. No amount of calls, phone or video-wise could ever top being in your presence in itself. No matter how many times he’s glared at his sister for teasing him of missing you whenever he was seen zoning out during their family vacation, they both knew she was right. Hell, even their parents had caught wind of it.

“So, a Sun-Att, I hear?” Beckett choked on his soup, widening his eyes at his mother’s question. His parents were clearly delighted, and he didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably both, because they were already joining the teasing train with Katrina from then on.

Still, he meant what he said about bringing you with him to his travels one day, though he has yet to bring up meeting his family. Not yet, at least. For now, he was going to make up for lost time. None of you had the time to see each other since your return just days ago, with him being appointed by Professor Englund with the new students and you helping your team out with early preparations.

“I see you’ve made some new friends,” You peered over his shoulder, waving back at them as they finally realised who you were. If the way he greeted you with your name in a much softer tone didn’t give it away, then the symbol on your jersey definitely did, “It’s not every day we see the Beckett Harrington coming here willingly, other than to watch us win the championships.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Well, I was just telling the freshmen about Penderghast’s continuous success in the leagues.”

“Yup, five times in a row, and hopefully it doesn’t end there!” Unbeknownst to Griffin, his toothy grin not only had ‘the clique’ squealing amongst themselves, but even the boys were extremely pumped just by the thought of being in the team. You've made room for Zeph to join, or rather, take your place in the conversation. While you love the game with your heart and soul, you knew Griffin and Zeph were better at marketing it.

Hey, they were the ones who convinced you into joining the team, after all!

Soon, you were shoulder-to-shoulder with Beckett, minus the height difference, speaking to one another without looking away from the associating parties.

“I meant what I said,” He raised his eyebrows questioningly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “Seeing you here. I know we haven’t had the time, even though we’re both in the same building.”

“Hey, none of that.” He stopped you, “I should’ve at least stopped by your room as soon as I got here, but Professor Englund came to me the last minute and I—”

“Beckett,” You placed your hand on his bicep, running it up and down as a way to comfort him, “How about we both take the blame? It’s not even our first day and I’d rather not spend the precious time I have with my boyfriend talking about whose fault it is.”

He chuckled, crunching the turf under his shoes idly.

“Fine, fine. We can save the headache for topics like Shreya’s endless plans with Serene and Sublime.”

“Or Professor Englund’s class, in a nutshell.” You both shared a laugh, forgetting your surroundings momentarily when you caught a new student pointing at something up top to his friend. You looked up in wonder, only to realise that they were so entranced by your familiar. Butterball had been gliding near the roof’s opening, where he basked in the sun since the end of practice rather than returning to the ether.

Might as well make new friends, right?

“Butterball, come here, boy!” You raised your hand, wiggling your fingers at the lumian in an effort to grab his attention. The majestic serpentine stopped dead in his tracks, perking up when he realized it was you calling his name. His trill was loud enough to echo throughout the arena before diving headfirst towards your group. You’ve briefly forgotten that matured familiars weren’t common around campus, let alone a mega-evolved one like Butterball until the freshmen reacted apprehensively at his actual size and lightning speed. Some gasped while others tried to hide behind one another, though none of them fled, seeing how even Beckett wasn't moving.

As expected, Butterball had targeted Beckett, circling him from the bottom up before stopping right in front of him. Half of them staggered and swayed, unexpecting the gust of wind from his rapid moves.

“Hello to you too.” Beckett chuckled, returning his greeting with a couple of pets on the head. The coos released by your companion had brought the cautious students at ease, approaching him with less skepticism, "Everyone, meet Butterball. Her familiar.” He introduced the creature to them before motioning to you.

Butterball's feathers shook in excitement, nudging his head into the closest set of hands for pets. His cat-like behaviour instantly won their hearts, with some wanting to get a turn at giving him head scratches while the rest returned to Zeph and Griffin, eager to know more about the upcoming tryouts.

"Do you mind if I borrow you for a sec?" Beckett raised his brows, more so intrigued than suspicious before calling out to them to take five. With their attention elsewhere, you slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining before dragging him to the side of the bleachers. The spot wasn't far from the students' peripheral vision but enough for some sort of privacy.

He opened his mouth in hopes of asking if everything was alright when you crashed your lips against his. You heard his breath hitched but he returned the gesture just as quick, only for you to break the kiss before he could even deepen it.

Your forwardness was not expected, as evidenced by his wide eyes. But with this newfound spot, he thought 'fuck it'. Remaining professional may be his top priority but he only had so much self-control. He caught you by surprise when he took a hold of your hands, pulling you in for a longer, much more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling up the familiar material of his blazer while his very own held onto your hips. The second you felt his tongue prodding your bottom lip, your caresses turned to grips, slightly creasing his lapel in the process.

Upon hearing your little whines, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. Even with what was happening just a few feet away from you, the feeling of being in his arms after so long was too good to ignore.

"What time will your practice end?" His eyes remained closed, fearing that he'd lose you just by opening them.

"Uh… Around five, I think. Why?"

"I'll make it up to you." He whispered, his lips hovering over yours. There was so much devotion in his words and while you were flattered by his reassurance, you wanted to take your chance to do the same.

"Beckett, my favorite part of the day is seeing your face. The second I saw you here, I immediately forgot how tired I was!" Your hands slipped upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck to be closer to him than you thought possible, "Just having you by my side is already a treat in itself, no matter where we are or what we do."

That’s what he love about you, amongst other reason, that is. How easy you were able to decipher your feelings into words and how he hopes to do the same for you. He may have his difficulties every once in a while but as a Harrington, you knew he wasn't going to back down from a challenge, and that is what you love about him.

"Then I'll make sure we'll make the most of it," He promised, "I'll stop by your room at six, get dressed by then."

"Oh, bossy, aren't you?" You teased him, only to gape at his defense.

"And not once have I heard you complain about it," He leaned in, whispering in your ear, "Not especially when we're in bed," It was your turn to look away, knowing he had a smirk on his face when you failed to respond, "So obedient whenever I tell you to take your clothes off, having an absolute beauty lay underneath me."

"Beckett…" You gulped, always taken aback by this side of him.

"You have my word." The meaningful smile on his face was hard to resist, and just as you savoured the moment, Zeph's voice rang out.

"Hey, lovebirds! Sorry to interrupt but the captain's gonna need his star player ASAP!" You and Beckett looked at each other before sharing a laugh, your face growing hot whereas Beckett was no different, clearing his throat as if it was going to help with the way he blushed.

"After you." Ever the gentleman. You thanked him with a playful curtsy and headed back to the group, your boyfriend tagging along seconds after. The knowing looks on Griffin and Zeph's faces accompanied by the giggles and oohs of the freshmen had you wishing you could use your Super Speed spell and get the heck out of there.

"Right, I hope you all learned a lot about Thief and had fun with Butterball but we should really continue," Beckett stroked the lumian's cheek, only to call your name, "Do you mind if we visit the Sun-Att Room before we conclude our tour? Just so they know what it looks like on the inside."

He's definitely not trying to show you off.

"Be my guest! I'll let Atlas and Dean Swan know about it, just in case," You showed him an 'okay' sign before waving with Griffin and Zeph as the group departed, "Welcome to Penderghast, by the way!"

"So… Mind telling me where we're going?" It’s been hours since the tour and just ten minutes since Beckett’s arrival at your doorstep. You were just about ready when he knocked on your door, opening it to find Beckett offering you a single Dreamshade flower.

The number of times this man has made you feel fuzzy should not be healthy at this point.

"Why spoil the surprise when I can just bring you there?" He turned the knob that led to Penn Square, filling you with anticipation as to what he had in mind. Walking hand in hand, you took in your surroundings; from Aster’s shop to the local bookstore, plus the familiar faces you’ve passed by. As the turn you both took became apparent, you turned to him in excitement.

“Are we going where I think we’re going?” As if the universe heard you, you and Beckett coincidentally reached your destination; Cafe Sirene. The very coffee shop that held both your favorite treats and valuable memories.

“Surprised?”

“Not at all,” He held the door open for you, joining you to greet the staff behind the counter. Both of you ordered the usual; a slice of Raspberry Reverie and some hot chocolate before moving over to the window seat.

“Have you stopped by the shop since we last saw each other?” He asked you before taking a sip of his drink.

“I did once! Atlas and I were craving something sweet and we just bought tons to try at home,” Hearing you talk about your time with your family was always thrilling. The sparkle in your eyes as you recalled them one by one. Stroganoff Sundays with Atlas and your mother, movie nights with foster parents, lazy days with Butterball and Navi. It was the least you deserve, considering the hardships you had gone through since your first year, “But y’know, it doesn’t beat coming here with you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck upon hearing your confession.

“But what about you? Anything interesting happened while you were in France?”

“Well, if you think visiting over five art galleries within two days is interesting, then sure,” He shrugged nonchalantly, only to hide his smile behind the cup, “But, personally, I’d say your beauty is just as mesmerizing as the art I’ve seen there.”

None of you had the time to react when you heard a chorus of squeals and giggles coming from the kitchen. Both of you turned to the source of the sound, only to find a handful of the staff, including the chef, eavesdropping behind the door. Seeing your eyes on them, they retreated, with one of them even let out a small, high-pitched scream. You hid your face, only to peek through your fingers and see Beckett covering his mouth, sharing your embarrassment. He looked anything but annoyed though, and with his free hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours.

“Let’s just eat, shall we?” You nodded, and the shyness you both had slowly disappeared. Your conversation went on smoothly as you fed each other the cake, all while watching the sunset and returning to your dorm with big smiles and high hopes for the future together.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

91 notes · View notes

biffhofosho · 2 years

Text

Vixen

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 8.5k

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Strangers to lovers

Synopsis: Inside this room, he finds his doom.

The Vibe: Abandoned buildings, quiet fall nights, cocky boys who refuse to turn down a dare, best frenemies, dense shadows, overactive imaginations, mysterious strangers, overt song references, fighting a losing battle, doing as nature compels, straight up wild fucking, need need need, lust for dominance, the illusion of control, peril, open questions with clues to the answer for the curious reader, who is she?

A/N: The first of my October vibe fics! We’ll see the next one in about a week!

“Wildfire” kind of ruined my life in the most spectacular way, so much like “Tailor Made,” this fic is inspired heavily by the song. Hearing Hyungwon singing those lines demanded something a little spooky and definitively naughty. Felt like experimenting in present tense for a change, too. Oh, what this boy does to me. Down bad.

He isn’t supposed to be here.

Hyungwon knows that. How could he not? Jooheon is convinced the place is haunted, and Hoseok says there isn’t enough ramyun in the world to convince him to walk through those doors, which hang like crooked teeth over a crumbling tongue of weed-infested steps. But it isn’t Minhyuk’s childish dare that ultimately propels him up to the front stoop of the abandoned building; it’s Kihyun’s firm order that Hyungwon is not to do it.

Hyungwon turns around and looks at his six friends. Most of them look worried, save for Kihyun, who’s definitely annoyed, and Minhyuk, who’s positively delighted.

“Remember,” says Minhyuk with his phone out and his timer up, “you have to stay in for a whole hour. If you come out early, I get your PS5.”

Hyungwon scoffs and syncs his timer with his friend’s. “Yeah, yeah, and when I see you in an hour, I get your Gucci messenger.”

“And if you don’t come back out in an hour, don’t expect anyone to go in looking for you,” snaps Kihyun, but Hyunwoo is shaking his head, so Hyungwon knows the eldest will come charging in there regardless looking for him the second the timer ticks to zero.

“This is a stupid bet. Why don’t we just forget it and go get some fried chicken?” Hoseok suggests.

“Let them do what they’re going to do,” Changkyun says with a shrug and goes back to scrolling through his phone without another glance up.

“That’s the problem. Hyungwon always does what he wants to do,” quips Kihyun.

And thanks to that one sentence, it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. Hyungwon is going in. He and Kihyun have been sparring all week since Hyungwon overslept and missed half of their group project session, so he’s bound and determined to put an end to Kihyun’s carping at least until the next time he oversleeps.

Before anyone else can squeeze in another comment, Hyungwon has wriggled through the gap in the sagging boards and leaves behind his biggest critic and all their friends. The moment he’s on the other side of those doors though, his bravado fades. Spite is all well and good to feed his challenge with Kihyun, but it’s no match for his own fertile imagination, which is currently having a field day with his surroundings.

The building is in even worse shape on the inside than it is on the outside. It smells like rot and mildew, and right away, Hyungwon’s “emphysema lungs”—as Minhyuk affectionately calls them—flare up with a cough that he manages to choke down… just in case someone is listening, even though he reminds himself again and again he’s alone. He’s alone.

Hyungwon’s not sure what kind of business this once was, but it was some kind of office judging from the broken typewriter and cobwebbed filing cabinets laying on their sides on the floor. Random ledgers and books litter the rooms and leather chairs spew their cushioning through old tears. It’s hard to tell exactly how long this place has been abandoned, but there’s an old invoice wedged under a busted lamp and a layer of filth that Hyungwon thinks reads “1982.”

It seems odd that a business would leave so much property behind when it closed, let alone in such a scattered mess, and right away, his imagination charges toward the inevitable conclusion that maybe it wasn’t a bankruptcy that drove out these people but something menacing like a fire or a murderer.

Or a ghost.

Hyungwon slaps his cheeks to knock Jooheon’s scaredy-cat voice from his brain.

The urge to serve out his hour just inside the entryway is overwhelming, but that’s not the whole dare. Hyungwon has to make it to the fourth floor—to the room with the moth-eaten curtains where Jooheon swears he saw the ghost of a girl—and wave his phone to everyone below.

He supposes it’s better to do it now rather than later. His friends might think he’s chickening out, and even if he is, he doesn’t want to look like it, not with Yoo Kihyun waiting with an “I told you so” already in the chamber.

Hyungwon takes a deep breath and then a step forward. The board immediately creaks underfoot, but at least it feels solid. He’s not so sure the stairs will be in as good a shape, which is what Hyunwoo was worried about, but Minhyuk said that was part of the challenge.

There isn’t a spot on the floor that doesn’t wail with each footstep, and if a murderous hobo is living upstairs, as Kihyun assumes, there’s no way it doesn’t know a trespasser is on his way.

Hyungwon instead chooses to focus on structural integrity before his mind can manifest a half dozen scary stories, so he plots a course through the hallway toward the stairwell, which is easy to spot thanks to the alley floodlight spearing the holes in the filmy windows. His shoes leave footprints in the dust, so at least he’ll be easy for Hyunwoo to track when he plummets through the floor into the spider-infested basement.

Okay, this was a stupid bet to take, Hoseok was right. It’s not just dangerous—it’s gross here. Hyungwon doesn’t like bugs or dirt or unnecessarily risky adventures. He likes iced americanos and sleeping and arguing with his bossy friends about sleeping, all of which he should be doing now instead of this.

Something creaks overhead.

Automatically, the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

It can’t be a ghost—ghosts don’t have feet, right? It can’t be a murderous hobo—they certainly do have feet, but there’s nowhere in this damn building that doesn’t squeak to hide the other footsteps. It must be a rat or maybe a raccoon. Instead of being reassured, Hyungwon is disgusted. He should just leave. He can always buy another PS5. Might take him a while, but it would be awfully hard to save up if he’s suffering from the bubonic plague.

But then there’s that sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued plague of a best friend out front, no doubt waiting for his own smug victory lap, and that resolves Hyungwon’s mind—the bubonic plague probably has fewer lingering side effects than being bested by Yoo Kihyun.

Hyungwon reaches the stairs. He’s happy to see they’re concrete and in relatively sturdy shape. The railings are another matter—wooden and rotted through—so he’ll have to take his chances without a handhold. He decides to hug the wall, where the integrity should be much stronger, and he heads upstairs.

By the second floor, he’s feeling confident, and by the third, he’s feeling cocky again. But by the fourth, reality sets in. Hyungwon is where he’s supposed to be, but he also feels like he’s definitely not supposed to be here.

For all intents and purposes, the fourth floor looks like the first—filthy and cluttered and creepy—though it’s better lit thanks to the holes in the roof and a brighter stream of streetlights from more sides. But the brighter light has the unintended consequence of casting ominous shadows from things that shouldn’t be terrifying but now are.

Hyungwon nearly teeters backwards down the steps when he catches sight of a coatrack out of the corner of his eye, and he definitely lets out a gasp when he rounds the corner toward the front room and sees a figure at the end of the corridor. That turns out to be a fake potted tree though, and he’s left feeling like both an idiot and a chicken.

There’s another creak, and he flinches before he realizes this one comes from him as he heads down the hallway. This one has a carpet runner, and every footstep wafts up mold and dust that sends his emphysema lungs into a spasming frenzy that he can’t choke back.

His hacking coughs reverberate up and down the fourth floor, and there’s literally no way a murderous hobo won’t hear him now. Hyungwon outright races toward the front room because what’s the point of keeping quiet now if Jooheon’s angry spirits are already onto him?

He reaches the front of the building, out of breath and sweating profusely despite the short jaunt, and checks his timer. Fifty-three minutes left.

Damnit.

Hyungwon glances right then left, double-checking for the curtained room he’s supposed to enter. It’s on the right, and he sighs. He did it. Now just to put on his best indifferent face as a metaphorical middle finger for Kihyun and Minhyuk…

Hyungwon flexes his jaw and shakes out the tension from his face before he enters the room. He heads straight for the window and finds his six friends steadfastly watching for him. Hoseok is draped all over Jooheon, relief visible like a lighthouse even from the fourth floor. Kihyun is scowling per usual while Minhyuk still manages to look confident he will win. Changkyun and Shownu show no emotion, but Hyungwon knows from their dead-eye stares that that’s how they show their support.

Hyungwon waves his phone as instructed, and Hoseok gives two thumbs up. Now, it’s just a matter of the countdown.

He opens his camera app to take a self-righteous selfie, and the second he flips the angle, he’s covered in gooseflesh.

Something is behind him, and it’s definitely not a tree or a coatrack and it’s much too big to be a rat. The light is dim so the camera is struggling with graininess, but whatever’s behind him moves, and Hyungwon’s skin crawls. It’s a subtle shift, as though it doesn’t want to be seen or doesn’t want to be there either, until it finally disappears.

Exactly like a ghost…

Maybe it would be better to pretend he hasn’t seen it at all, but Hyungwon really doesn’t have a choice. He sucks in a hard and fast breath.

He turns around as if in slow motion and finds the other occupant huddled in the corner.

It isn’t a ghost at all, nor is it a murderous hobo.

It’s a woman.

She’s making herself very small from her perch on top of a desk in the corner. Her arms are wrapped around her shins and her chin is behind her knees so only her very wide eyes are peeping at him. When their gazes connect, everything changes for reasons he can’t possibly fathom.

She springs down from the desk, landing on feet so light that the floor doesn’t even creak. She races forward, stopping halfway to Hyungwon. Her head cocks to the side as though she’s trying to figure out why another human’s here instead of the ghost maybe they both were expecting.

“Oh! Hello!” she says. Whatever fear she’d harbored vanishes. Her voice is cute, a little like a bark of an excited puppy. She’s clearly surprised but, still, she’s waving at him, her hand like a metronome on the highest speed.

“H-hi,” Hyungwon stutters. He sounds stupid, but at least he answers.

He studies her eyes first. They slant up at the edges with mesmerizing brown irises in the center. They might look predatory in the wrong face, but in hers, they’re eager and alert and trained solely on him. Her wavy hair is streaked with brown and auburn and even a funny little strip of white at her crown that somehow makes her look younger instead of older. Her ears stick out, accentuating the cuteness in an already cute face.

A sweater swallows up her petite athletic frame just as her sweatpants do to her legs. She looks so soft and small compared to his long, wiry frame that Hyungwon has the irrational urge to pet her on his lap. He wonders if she’d purr. Okay, that’s a ludicrous thought, but he can’t stop himself from thinking it.

But as cute as she is, there are a few weird scars that catch his eye, too. Even though her hands are fidgeting inside those long sleeves, he sees the raised scratches on them. They’re old, dark brown against her fair skin, and in neat parallel lines of four. Peaking just above the sagging neckline of her sweater, there are a few more scars, but these are not scratches but punctures.

Her ears twitch as she smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Chae Hyungwon,” he says with the same robotic voice he always did for class roll calls.

“What are you doing here, Chae Hyungwon?”

She doesn’t say her name back, and she’s already asked another question, so it would be rude to ask his own instead of answering hers.

“I don’t know,” he replies, only realizing a second later that he knows exactly why he’s here but he’d completely forgotten for a moment. “I mean, my friends dared me to spend an hour in here. Some of them think this place is haunted. I don’t, uh, um, obviously, so, yeah, that’s the story of me in this place.”

She cocks her head, and her big ears twitch again with the motion. “Your friends are in here, too?”

She sounds a little tenser now, and she looks it, too. She’s fast and restless and bouncy, pacing along the edge of the room now somewhere between anxious and excited, and Hyungwon isn’t sure if that’s because of him or his friends or that’s just who she is.

“No, they’re waiting for me outside. See?”

He moves to the window and waves down, everyone but Kihyun waving back.

She doesn’t move to the window. In fact, she backs a little further into the corner again.

“Are you here on a dare, too?”

“Sort of,” she says.

“Mine’s an hour,” Hyungwon repeats and then realizes he's already said that. He’s really batting a thousand here…

“Mine’s a little longer than that.”

“Overnight, huh?” he says with a frown, trying to imagine one corner of this spider palace that even he, a world champion sleeper, could find comfortable enough to bed down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, still looking warily to the window. “Time’s almost up. I just have to tough it out a little longer.”

Hyungwon presses his lips together as he studies her. There’s a pile of clothes on the desk behind her all balled up. They’re dirty, too, but not covered in the layers of filth like the rest of this place.

He narrows his eyes. “Are your friends spending the night, too?”

“No. They think I’m being silly. They don’t want me here.”

Hyungwon smiles a little. “Neither do mine. So, what’s to stop you from leaving?”

“Me,” she replies simply.

“You sound like my friend Kihyun. He’s good at following through on things or, more importantly, making everyone else follow through on things. If he weren’t standing right outside, I’d have already gone home. Not because I’m scared,” he’s quick to add. “Because there are tons of other things I’d rather be doing.”

“Like what?”

She almost sounds like a child when she asks a question. There’s not only genuine interest in it but pure innocence, as though she’s never imagined anything more interesting than this crumbling building.

Hyungwon’s finding it hard to answer again. What is more interesting than this building and the pretty girl in it?

“I don’t know,” he says, “lots of stuff. Sleeping, video games, movies.”

What a lame answer. He’s embarrassed.

But she doesn’t seem to mind. It’s almost like she’s never heard of those things, the way she has her head tilted further to the side. She smiles, toothy and bright.

She’s so cute, he thinks and realizes too late he’s grinning dumbly at her.

Then something passes over her eyes, a little flutter that chases away the brightness there. Her small mouth tightens around the edges, and she’s pacing the wall again. When she speaks, her voice is much heavier. “Maybe you should go and do those things.”

Hyungwon takes a step toward the door. He might be off in his own world half the time, but the other half, he reads people pretty well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can wait out my time downstairs now.”

He gives her a quick bow and is about to slip out, confused and more than a little disappointed, when she zips in front of him like a lightning bolt. He had sensed she was fast, but in this foreboding place, he almost jumps out of his skin.

Those angled eyes are wide and jittery as she scopes him out from head to toe. She’s biting her bottom lip. Maybe she’s trying to flirt—Hyungwon is familiar with his effect on women after all—but the more she shifts from foot to foot, he supposes that may just be wishful thinking.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m not well,” she confesses, “which is why you should leave.”

Hyungwon smiles gently. “I tried, remember?”

The heaviness of guilt anchors the edges of her elegant face as she says, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is it contagious?”

“I’m not sick—”

“Then let me help you,” he insists. “How can I help you?”

“It would help if you left, Hyungwon,” she says firmly, or maybe it’s desperately. “I won't get in your way this time. But you should hurry.”

Her eyes look even more wild now though they’re darker, narrower. Her nose twitches, too, and it would be cute if it weren’t for those eyes. Just like that, she’s pacing the length of the wall again, and she’s not biting her lip but worrying it.

“I can’t leave just yet,” he replies. That’s true—he still has forty minutes on his timer—but it’s not really honest. He doesn’t want to leave.

It smells different in here now. There’s still the fetid aroma of wet dirt, but it’s appealing now, primitive and animalistic, and it awakens something inside him. Hyungwon never feels like this, like there’s some base need in the pit of his belly growing unchecked and yearning for fulfilment, but right now, looking at this woman challenging him with her feisty eyes and restless stance, an urge to chase her overwhelms. And if the coil in his stomach has its way, it will only be satisfied when he pins her to the ground and takes her as his body demands.

But that’s not Hyungwon. He’s a cool, quiet guy known for lazing around and zoning out. Not to be conceited, but women come to him. He doesn’t have to hunt.

But he wants to.

He wants her.

He knows that’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know this girl, and she’s certainly not the reason he came in here. Literally everything is screaming at him to run from this feeling. It’s an abandoned building with mushrooms growing out of the floorboards, for God’s sake. This isn’t the place to come for a passionate rendezvous or to meet the girl of his dreams—or, at least, maybe not for a guy who likes a bed and his woman on top.

“Stop it,” she says.

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Hyungwon swallows hard, knowing he’s been caught. “Sorry. You’re right, I’ll go.”

He takes another step to leave, and again, she blocks the door with her small frame. The weird intensity in her eyes has diffused, and now, they are big and round, looking up apologetically at him. It almost gives him whiplash, and he can hardly believe it’s the same girl.

“That was so rude of me,” she blurts. “Please forgive me. I haven’t talked with anybody in a while, and my manners were always bad to begin with. Please stay if you want to. I mean, I want you to.”

There’s that urge to pounce again, the one that keeps getting stronger by the second and far worse the closer she stands. He realizes that smell—the musky one that gets his blood pumping—is coming from her and not the building. When she’s this close, his mind spins and yet stills on one inevitable conclusion.

He has to have her.

Hyungwon isn’t a forward type of guy, at least not when he’s just met someone. He likes getting to know people, likes connecting with them on deeper levels and likes when they think of him in his own category—as someone they want to run to when they need an ally. He doesn’t leap, he falls—helplessly and accidentally before he even knows he’s tripped. This is different because he’s leaping and falling all at the same time, and he’s painfully aware of all of it.

“Oh, this is really bad,” she says, changing tone again. Her hands are knotted in front of her, and she’s twitching and shifting, but her eyes are steadily lashed to him. “Why didn’t I let you go?”

His mouth is dry, his brain is fuzzy, but his vision is clear and focused on the pretty, wild creature in front of him. “If you still want me to go, I will. I’m not trying to freak you out.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Hyungwon doesn’t understand, but before he can say so, she adds, “I can’t help it. It’s not a matter of what I want. I need you—”

“You need me to leave?” he finishes, his voice brittle.

“Yes,” she says slowly, “but…”

“But?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you go.”

At just the brush of her fingers on the back of his hand, sparks shower over him. In an instant, his world is consumed by fire. Her nails are sharper than he realized, and they scratch enticingly across his skin.

“I didn’t think it could happen so fast,” she murmurs. “And it was almost over…”

He wants to ask what she means, but the pads of her fingers slip into his hand and stroke his palm in a way that makes his brain short-circuit. What’s left of his thoughts is divided between the way her chest is heaving and the part of her lips as she borderline pants for him.

She reaches a hand up to his cheek and strokes him. Hyungwon closes his eyes and leans into it because he simply has to.

“Why did you have to be so beautiful?” she whispers. “I knew they would tempt me, but I thought I could outrun it.”

“They who?” he mumbles as he falls deeper into her whirlpool gaze.

“Maybe I still can…”

Called by her throaty voice, he leans down expectantly, but she smiles at him and jerks her head to the side at the last second. Hyungwon imagines he sees mischief as much as desire in those eyes, but he’s never met someone so difficult to read—it's like she’s a dozen different books at once.

“If you want me,” she says with freshly wet lips, “you have to catch me.”

With that, she darts through the door and into the hallway. Hyungwon spends only a few seconds weighing his options—it’s a dark, condemned building and she’s a total stranger—before he runs after her.

She is fast, but his legs are long, and he closes the distance between them easily. He thinks he has her just before she reaches the top of the stairs, but then she zips to the left and into another shell of an office. Hyungwon is right on her tail, but she’s nimble and hides behind a dusty desk, squaring off with him in a staring contest. There is fire in her eyes as there no doubt is in his. When she smiles, she looks like she is laughing at him as much as she is baiting him. Her teeth look sharper in the thin light, and her cheeks are blazing. She’s a different person than the timid thing who’d cowered from him on first sight, but then so is he.

Hyungwon is a nice, reasonable guy. He doesn’t play games. He’s open and honest, if sometimes far too blunt. He doesn’t think he’s a pervert even if his usual fantasies sometimes stray into an X-rated realm. But in no time at all, this woman has driven him to some kind of madness. She’s all he can think about. He can smell her all over him. He tastes her already—wild and deep and lingering on his tongue. He feels her, too. He’s done none of those things yet, though that doesn’t stop him from feeling overrun by his desire to do all of them at once.

While Hyungwon is lost in his very intense fantasy of her, she bolts back into the hallway witha savage laugh.

“Shit!” he mutters, and his feet reel underneath him.

He almost misses her disappearing into the room at the end of the hall, and even though he’s sure he saw her come in here, when he finally enters the room, there’s no sign of her, not even a smeared footprint in the dust.

Hyungwon’s heart plummets. She’s gone.

Just like that, she’s vanished from his life, leaving only a monsoon of desperate emotions sloshing in his chest.

He runs his hands through his hair. Was she a ghost? It’s stupid to think that, but maybe it isn’t. Okay, it still is.

Get it together, Hyungwon, he scolds himself.

She’s still here. She has to be. His heart is still hammering and his palms are still sweaty. He can feel her energy charging every inch of him. He leans into that and lets his body, not his brain, guide him through the labyrinth of file rooms and offices. With every footfall, he senses he is closing in. The how is not important, all that matters is that he finds her again.

Hyungwon clears everything on the top floor except the last room in the back corner. By now, his pulse is throbbing in time with his very painful erection, but he is sure she’s in here. He can feel her setting his skin on fire.

The anticipation is driving him crazy. Hyungwon is not one to chase anyone, but the thrill is intoxicating. He's drenched in sweat and steeped in anticipation. Where is she? He needs her.

Now.

The last room is an old conference room, with a big, dusty table, dozens of crumbling boxes, a few scattered chairs, and no exits. She has to be here.

Hyungwon looks for signs of her. There’s a chair on the floor and a handprint on the table. She was here. She must still be here.

His eyes cut through the shadows to which he’s growing more and more accustomed. In the corner, there’s an empty bookshelf, but she’s not beside it. There’s also a storage closet. His gaze sharpens on it.

Quietly, he steps forward, and when he’s right in front of it, he takes a deep breath and yanks the knob.

“Found y—”

His triumph dies on his lips. She’s not in there either.

She’s a ghost after all.

His stomach lurches.

There’s a sudden bump and whoosh, and Hyungwon wheels on his heel. From under the table darts a figure, lean, lithe, and fast as hell. But he’s been waiting—every atom of him has been waiting—and he lunges. His hands close around a narrow waist, and he surges forward until they run out of real estate.

Hyungwon has her caged in against the wall, and she whirls around so their eyes meet. She is much smaller than he is, but she doesn’t cower. Instead, her breath is racing. Her eyes flash along with her teeth. Her excitement charges Hyungwon with some kind of delirium he's never felt for a woman before. He has never been so hard in his whole life. It’s like he was made to fuck this woman. He will never feel fulfilled unless he does. It’s terrifying, but it’s all so natural.

“I don’t know what’s come over me. I swear I’m not usually like this,” he blabbers as he looms over her, panting in her face.

“I know,” she says, and it almost sounds sad. It’s just enough to dam the lust so Hyungwon can think straight again.

“What’s happening to me?”

“You should fight it,” she urges. “You should run.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“I don’t want you to go, Hyungwon. I need you to go. I need you to run.”

His lips press to the crown of her hair. He breathes her in, his mysterious vixen. Her hair smells strongly of mustiness, of nature and the earth, of dampness and decay, but underneath it all, she smells of desire. It’s real. It’s primal.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Why do you keep apologizing?” Hyungwon asks, tracing her face with his hand.

It’s the first time there’s some kind of ice in her eyes to temper the flames. “Because I want to make sure you know that I really did try to resist you, but I won’t. I can’t. I want you too much.”

With their fates sealed, she collides with his mouth. Her tongue slides between his, and a burst of cold unfurls in the center of all the heat, almost like she’s been sucking on an ice cube. Hyungwon moans because the sensation is as unexpected as it is delicious. Her nails bite into him sharper than expected, but the pain is a welcome reminder that she is real and not some ghost.

The cold spreads through his body like a riptide, pulling parts of him on a strong current to her. He hasn’t experienced anything like this before. Deep down, he knows she’s right—he should fight; riptides kill—but it also feels like it was always meant to be a losing battle and, more importantly, one he doesn’t mind losing.

But slowly, the cold morphs into heat, a scalding heat the way frostbite feels like fire. The deeper her tongue probes his mouth, the hotter he burns even as he’s frozen in place. Her moan at his taste makes his arm give way beside her, and he tumbles into her, intent on crushing her beneath him.

Her hands spool into his hair in response as her hips rut against his thigh.

Good, she’s as crazy for him as he is for her, and Hyungwon only wants to make her crazier.

There’s so many things he wants to do to her. He wants to taste every inch of her. He wants to suckle at her perky breasts and nibble on her hard clit and eat her out until she can’t walk and he has to carry her everywhere for the next day, but right now, he has to bury himself to his hilt inside her. It’s the only thing that makes sense. It’s what he needs, it’s what she needs—to cum for each other while knotted up together in their dank little love den.

Hyungwon breaks their kiss to grab her shoulders before he swivels her around to bend her over the conference room table. Her hands squeal through years of grime, leaving frenzied tracks of need like wild fucking animals. It rustles up a cloud of dust and mildew that would usually send him into a sneezing fit, but it’s like all his senses beyond his woman have dimmed. He only smells her. He only tastes her. He only needs her.

She lets out a little moan that sets his teeth on edge. Everything about her is egging him on, and he’s losing his mind. His hands find the waist of her pants and yank them down so hard that seams pop. She snarls but so does he.

Her heat slams into him like a radiator waiting to scald the first errant touch. Hyungwon wastes no time. He gropes her sex with his whole hand, letting her dripping core coat his palm in sticky desire. He rubs in a frenzy—he can’t help himself. He’s not sure what he’s doing because he’s never done things like this before. This isn’t him. Hyungwon is a slow lover, a purposeful lover. He likes getting lost in his partners and staying lost. Maybe he’s doing that now, too, but this is far more feral.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she whines, wriggling her ass against him and smearing more of her arousal all over his hand.

Hyungwon unzips his jeans and groans the moment he’s freed from his denim prison. Now, he wants the pressure of her cunt bearing down on him in relentless waves, that riptide pulling him ever deeper inside her. He won’t deny either of them any longer.

He takes the wet lust drenching his hand and smears it along his length so he will be able to take her faster. He can’t waste another second. The head of his cock fits snugly at her entrance. He can feel her pulsing with the promise of a fast, hard fuck, and he’s so sensitive, he’s ready to blow his load before he’s even inside her, so he pushes in without warning.

She yelps, her nails scratching the table, but it’s immediately followed by an obscene moan. She swivels her ass to swallow every last millimeter of his member and whimpers, “It’s been so long, but I don’t remember it ever feeling this good.”

Hyungwon’s brain is combusting. She shouldn’t say these kinds of things to him. They only serve to make him wilder.

One of his hands snakes up under her shirt and grabs one of her tits, squeezing hard as much to hold steady against his fast rhythm as it is to sample yet another one of her secret pleasures. She fits so well in the palm of his hand, too. Her nipple slots between his fingers, and he tightens them, which sends a cry from her lips and a shiver through her cunt.

“Don’t stop,” she begs. “Don’t ever stop.”

“I never will,” he grunts in return.

Maybe it’s the depth of his voice or maybe it’s the crackle of flames in it, but she moans and pushes back hard against him until he bottoms out again. It feels like he’s somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, he’s burrowed so far inside her, and every ripple along her walls seems to constrict around him, tethering him to her, frantic to keep him.

Unexpectedly, Hyungwon cums.

He expects to be embarrassed, to be ashamed at his performance and his lack of willpower, but since he’s met this untamed creature, he’s had none. He should have known, and yet the strength of his release takes him totally by surprise. It’s like he’s emptying everything he has into her, and he really, really, really needs her to take it all and beg for more, more, more.

“Yes,” she whines and works her ass against his hips as if she can read his thoughts. “Yes, so deep. Feels so good inside me.”

It’s like her words lengthen his climax. It feels like he’s being drained not just of his seed but his life force, and it feels wonderful. Hyungwon collapses onto her back and sandwiches her against the table; only then does he remember to breathe.

“I’m s—” he tries to splutter out between pathetic gulps of air, but her keening drowns it out.

“I need more, Hyungwon.”

He wanted her to beg for more, but what does he have left to give now? It was the wickedest orgasm of his life. His legs are jelly, his mind is mush, and inside her ravenous cunt, his dick is throbbing. Fire marches through his veins, setting his extremities to tingling. He’s hyper-aware of the way her core is massaging his length, milking him for all he’s worth.

“You have to give me more,” she whimpers, and it sounds borderline frantic, like she’s choking back tears.

Hyungwon pulls out nearly all the way before he glides back in through his own sticky release.

She wails gratefully.

He’s already cum. Why is he still hard? Why does he still want her so badly?

Again, he fucks into her, much more leisurely this time, promising himself he’s going to savor her like she should be savored, but suddenly, her hand reaches back and stills his hips. Her nails bite into his tender flesh and he growls.

“On the table,” she orders, and despite how his reasoned mind balks at the idea of his body touching all the filth, her orders are not to be disobeyed.

Hyungwon sits on the table edge, but she shakes her head lightly.

“Lay down.”

He does so without hesitation, and she purrs before she slides out of her sweatpants as he does out of his own. There’s not even time for either of them to slip out of their shirts before the need for each other takes an even firmer hold. Nimble as a wild animal, she pounces on the table and stands directly over him. The table creaks but mercifully gives no other sign of protest.

His vixen is small, but she towers above him. From here, he gets a front row seat to watch his massive release leak down her toned thighs. As embarrassed as he is at his brief showing, a flash of pride burns brightly in his chest. She is his and everyone should see it.

She crouches then, fingers pressed for stability on his tensed stomach while her other hand encircles the base of his cock. Her eyes are predatory now. She licks her lip and sinks down onto his shaft.

Hyungwon groans so loudly, he’s worried the guys outside might hear and come looking for him.

“That’s better,” she says breathily after her own moan trails off. When she’s ready, she braces her stance on either side of Hyungwon’s narrow hips for a better grip on the dusty wood and begins to bounce.

She’s too good at this. She’s just too good in general. Her compact, wiry frame gives her speed as well as agility, and she pistons with precision on his cock.

In the silence of the abandoned building, their bodies are loud—grunts and sighs and ragged breaths, squelching and slapping and creaking table legs. Hyungwon is generally comfortable in silence, but not today and not with her. He wants to hear their sin as much as he wants to feel it, and, fuck, does it feel good.

Before, with him behind her, it felt primal—it felt urgent. But she is using him now, stealing what she wants from him this time, and even though he’s just here as a tool, that makes him feel more powerful than ever. She only feels this good because of him, because of what he gives her, and that knowledge, more than anything, brings the tightness back to his stomach.

Beneath her, Hyungwon is coming apart. His eyes roll back in his head as he falls victim to every ounce of pleasure she wields against him. He’s always favored being under a woman—savoring the sight of her face slackening with release as her breasts sway with her natural rhythm—but she is different in every way. She isn’t tiring, she isn’t begging. She’s taking and taking and taking, and all he wants to do is offer her more.

Maybe she won’t beg, but Hyungwon’s certainly not above it.

“Don’t stop,” he croaks out. “Don’t ever stop. Please.”

She opens her eyes then, stares down at him and then his fingers, which have coiled around her waist at some point when he was lost in her. Her eyes glow like embers dying in a fire, but with a blink, that image is gone.

Even if Hyungwon tries to convince himself this is more than just using each other, there’s nothing romantic about this. It’s fucking, plain and simple. He feels raw and savage and rabid with lust for this woman as she bounces up and down on the full breadth of his cock.

But as he looks up into her face, those strong cheekbones contoured even stronger by her building euphoria, he thinks maybe this could become more than two strangers succumbing to base need. She’s beautiful and impulsive, sure, but she’s also elusive and captivating, and there’s something about her that makes him think she has an old soul, too. Maybe they can be more than perfect one-night sex. He wants to be. He wants her to continue to need him.

Or maybe that’s just his fantastical mind justifying why he’d plowed dick-deep into a woman who still hadn’t told him her name.

Her moans are climbing higher while at the same time getting shorter and more frantic. She grips his wrists to ride him harder, and just as her walls seize around him, Hyungwon breaks her hold to wrap his arms around her and pull her flat against his chest. Her hair fans across his cracking lips as he heaves, desperate for the air that seems to be steadily thinning as he plows up into her.

She’s keening now but so is he, and together, they mewl as Hyungwon buries himself as deep as he can get and unloads again. This time, he feels it in his toes, his thighs, his belly, even the back of his head. His vision swims with the strength of his climax, and his hug constricts so violently around her that she digs her claws into the meat of his shoulders.

Hyungwon lingers inside her, his hips still hovering in mid-air to make sure the last trickles of his orgasm remain within her painted walls. Eventually though, his legs give out, and he eases them both back down to the table.

She is limp on his chest, and if it weren’t for the high-speed thundering of her breath against his neck, he might have worried she’d passed out.

“Why didn’t you run?” she asks from the safety of the hollow of his throat. Her voice is breaking, and a shiver runs through him.

Slowly, she lifts her chest from his. Her hand cradles his head while an unexpected tear falls from her eye onto his chin.

“Why would I ever run from you?” he replies gently.

Hyungwon traces the back of his hand across her cheek to wipe away the track of her tear, but it only provokes two more from her.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, earnestly terrified that he has.

“No,” she sniffs. “I did. I will. I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes.

“Hyungwon?”

She sounds small and helpless, and it makes every part of him want to hold her even closer.

“What?” he says.

“Forgive me?”

“For what?”

“For this.”

She descends like a feather, her body lightly kissing his from waist to chest to lips at last. He wishes they were naked so he could feel every inch of her the way he’s meant to, but he will take as much of her as he can get.

Right away, Hyungwon discovers this kiss is different than any kiss he’s ever had. It’s hard to explain, but he feels it like it’s his first and last kiss all at once. There’s so much weight in it though their lips are merely dusting one another’s. It’s making him lightheaded and a little giddy. Through the gentle caress of swollen skin, he lets out an airy sigh, and, dimly, he thinks he sounds drunk.

Through his shuttered eyes, he senses a faint golden light, almost like the first tinge of sunrise, but he knows they are still deep in the throes of night. He opens his eyes and finds his lady soft and delicate above him. It’s almost as if the light is emanating between them, for he can see every detail of her face with perfect clarity—the curl of her lashes feathering her cheeks, the sharp upturn at the tip of her nose, the pointiness of her brows dulled by their gentle kissing. Hyungwon closes his eyes again to better enjoy the sensations of her walls squeezing his waning hard-on and their breaths melding into one another.

As his tongue sweeps deep into her mouth now, ice unexpectedly marches through his veins. He’s been on fire this whole time, but now he is frigid to his very bones. He gasps, and she returns the favor to push into his mouth. It’s not just her tongue he feels now, but a strange round shape, like a marble or a bead. Everything in his body is cold, but this is warm. So warm. It rolls around in his mouth, getting hotter by the second. She is playing with it, too, almost like two cats bandying around a ball of yarn.

Hyungwon knows this isn’t normal, but the cold is shutting down his senses, like a bear preparing for hibernation. He’s had the two best orgasms of his life, and he is tired. Now, his eyes aren’t closed just to appreciate the feel of the woman above him, but they’re closed because he wants to fall asleep inside her. He would be content to never wake up from her hold on him.

Somewhere in the dim cavern at the back of his mind, a little voice tries to call to him. It wants to rouse him; it wants him to open his eyes, but Hyungwon can do neither. It’s like seeing his dreaming self from outside his body, and he’s helpless but to watch himself drift deeper into acceptance.

The bead in his mouth feels like molten lead. It’s getting hard to remember simple things. Where is he? Why is he here—wherever this is? Who is he? He thinks he knows. He thinks it’s important. He knows he’s supposed to know these things, but they’re not as important as they once were.

“Wonnie, man, where are you?”

As soon as Changkyun’s deep voice booms up the stairwell, the world crystallizes. The heaviness on Hyungwon’s chest lifts, and he sucks in a violent breath as though he’s just made it up from the bottom of the ocean in the nick of time. The fire that has seared his skin for the last hour extinguishes, too, leaving only the memory of the burn throbbing all over him. Inside his veins, the ice thaws, yet he’s still frozen. He remembers his name and his friends. He remembers his bet. He remembers the abandoned office building, but he does not remember how he got to this room.

Hyungwon tries to move—to call out—but he can’t. He feels drained, lifeless.

“Come on already! You won. Don’t be a showoff,” shouts Kihyun next.

Everyone pauses for Hyungwon’s inevitable retort, but none comes.

“I thought you weren’t coming in,” Minhyuk chides in the silence, which earns him an immediate “Zip it” from their stern-lipped friend.

His friends’ voices feel much closer now, though Hyungwon’s pretty sure they’re still on the first floor. The stairwell acts like a PA system, transmitting their banter with perfect clarity.

“I swear to god, if that clever brat slipped out the back—” Kihyun warns.

“Why don’t we split up?” suggests Hyunwoo. “Everyone, take a floor.”

Minhyuk chuckles. “You don’t get enough credit for how shrewd you are, hyung.”

“We can cover more ground this way,” the eldest assures though, after a pause, he continues, “and it will be easier for Hyungwon to answer us if it’s quieter.”

“I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” hedges Kihyun. “It might be better to look in pairs.”

“Chicken,” Minhyuk baits.

“Do you want me to call in Jooheon and Hoseok?” asks Changkyun.

“What would be the point?” says Minhyuk. “Even if we could get those two babies inside, we wouldn’t be able to hear each other over their screaming, let alone Wonnie.”

Hyungwon should be heartened that his friends are searching for him, but he can’t feel anything except the vague notion that he should be trying to call for help. Even his eyes are unfocused. The room is cloudy just like the last leg of his life.

He remembers feelings: ecstasy, relief, a quick ice bath of sadness, followed by listlessness. And that is where he’s stayed, mired in grayness.

“Wonnie!” shouts Minhyuk this time. His voice is a thousand times louder and more demanding than Changkyun’s. It shakes something awake in Hyungwon.

“Here,” he answers, though it’s a pitiful sound, like a mewling kitten in the rain. Nobody hears him.

His friends take turns calling until, finally, Hyunwoo gets close enough to catch his little cries.

“Up here!” the eldest bellows as he turns the corner and finds Hyungwon stretched out on the conference room table.

Hyungwon doesn’t remember much after that save for a weird shiver of embarrassment that follows Minhyuk’s incredulous shout: “Dude, why are you naked?”

His friends help him dress and bring him downstairs. They douse him with questions, none of which he can answer because he’s still not sure what happened. All he really remembers is waking up in the hospital just the right side of Death’s door with snippets of a surreal dream that are both too wonderful to remember and far too terrifying.

He doesn’t know what happened on the fourth floor of that decrepit office, and he’s not sure he’s ready to know.

And yet…

The day he’s released from the hospital, Hyungwon finds himself sitting on the curb outside that building. And the day after that. And the day after that. And most days after that for the next couple of months.

He stares up into one window in particular every time. He expects to see a ghost because that’s what Jooheon assures him nearly killed him, but he never does. If it were a ghost, it would come back, right?

He wants it to come back if just so he knows he’s not crazy. Or maybe that’s just the safe answer he gives to all his friends. The truth is much more shameful than that.

As close as he was to death that day, Hyungwon had touched some kind of happiness he hasn’t been able to feel since then. It’s probably grotesque, but at least it’s honest.

Sometimes he thinks about going back inside, but he’s not stupid—well, that stupid. He feels like his answers are in there along with his memories, but his friends would never forgive him if he went back in, so he doesn’t. He just sits and stares at the window, hoping something more then the memory of fire and riptides will unlock. It feels important.

So for now, he sits, legs folded up like a paperclip at the end of a dead-end road, staring up and zoning out, the wisp of a voice on the edge of his brain.

Forgive me?

Something rustles in the overgrowth in front of the building. Hyungwon shoots to his feet, his eyes trained into the twilight. It’s far too small to be either a human or ghost. A flash of rust and white. An eye of golden flame. A cat or a fox maybe. Either way, it signals it’s time for him to leave his post. It’s getting dark and there’s always tomorrow.

Maybe that will be the day he remembers the one elusive, beautiful, important thing he never wants to forget.

#monsta x smut #hyungwon smut #oneshot #strangers to lovers #october vibes #prepare to be spooped

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