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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months

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born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is.

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back. He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #netflix daredevil #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock hurt/comfort #matt murdock my beloved #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months

Note

asks are open!😘 How would L lawliet react with a shy I mean very shy girlfriend shes short about 5'2. And recently joined the task force to help her boyfriend

💕L💕

Omllll yeeessss! Another Death Note request! Let’s go, I like L too and I was waiting for him! Let’s do it!

Lawliet L

L was very against you trying to join the Task Force. This is definitely the most dangerous case in human history and you’re the last person he wants to risk to try solve it. He doesn’t care to risk his own life, but not yours

When L loves something or someone, it’s permanent and it’s strong, he was very against Watari joining, but he knows he needs Watari and the older man is not as included. L is a stubborn man and he won’t fold to your persistence

How did you manage to get onto the Task Force? L had no choice but to let you join, Light already seen you and his hands were tied by the members thinking a new Detective has joined. He couldn’t fly you out since it’d draw far too much suspicion. For the first time ever, the world’s best detective was stunned as he had to agree on terms he didn’t make

L supposes he doesn’t really mind having you around, it’s bad but not as bad. You’re intelligent, your skilled and you know how to handle yourself. Though, he isn’t a fan of you being apart of the Kira case for obvious reasons

Repeat it, L loves short girls so his significant other being shorter than him is like his actual dream. They are cuddle-sized and easy to keep track off. Even with how hunched he is, L is still packing quite the height and he towers you so suspect him to rest his chin on your head

“Aaah~ my favourite pillow has arrived. I am aware that I’m using your head as a headrest, you’re a suitable ‘small bean’ for the task. Why yes, I do remember what people your height are called and I’m called a ‘beanstalk’”

L is not a teaser about height, he’s a helper. You’re struggling to reach something high, he’ll get it for you. He will analyse the situation and suggest using a step next-time but at the end of the situation, he’ll help in anyway he can

L is a introvert so he understands your overall timidity. If you don’t want to be around the others, he will set up a private room for you that none of the members can access, including him if wanted. He has the money and power to do whatever the fuck he wants, and he is the spoiling type of boyfriend

Yes, I mean that L would send you money if you need it, he will rush around the headquarters to find your favourite blanket, he’s out the door the moment you mention a milkshake you’re carving. He will do stuff for you since you do so much for him, by merely being apart of his life and changing from him a glorified machine to a real human

The way you shyly approach him and Light to hand over the documentation files Watari gave to you whilst he was baking, is just so cute. Internal L is laying on the floor joyous at how adorable you behave, whilst external is politely thanking you

L isn’t built with any muscles(besides dem legs for real) but he isn’t above being protective over you, because he is. Light scared you with that one time he impersonated Kira to a horrifyingly good degree, L is gonna calmly argue with him then get into a fight

“Light. Could you please silence your strangely accurate impersonation of Kira. You’re frightening Dokusha— Hm? What reason do I have to ask of such a request? Well. She’s my partner in business and in life, she is important. Don’t do anything like that again”

L is slowly growing accustom to affection, please give him a break if he doesn’t respond or give it back. He does like it, he just isn’t trained nor knowledgeable enough in couple things. He puts research on those topics into his list so he can do better for you

Though, nobody else can do these things with L. Hold his hand, brush his hair, hug him. Nothing like that is allowed for anybody besides you and well to a degree, Watari but that’s different. You are always allowed in his private research room, most of the time, he wants you there besides him as he works

A cute weird thing L lets you do is latch onto his back. He does have a BAD back from the ten+ years of hunching but he loves feeling you clung onto him like a Koala. You are too shy to do it around the members but that won’t stop L from throwing you onto his back himself. He misses it

L keeps track of everything you like, do and more. He basically has a encyclopaedia of you and can recall every little detail. To him, knowing you like the process of scrubbing through hours worth of camera footage, is important as it shows how devoted he is to you

So tell him everything. He won’t forget any piece of info and he’ll write it down later as a needed backup, like he does for everything else non-Dokusha related. There’s two parts of his mind; Detective and Dokusha. He likes the Dokusha section a lot more

L is very loyal. Do you think he has anybody else waiting? Most women call him a freak for his looks and/or behaviour. You’re his one and only, he can’t throw you away, he just wants you sat besides him all the time. Where he can turn around and know you’re still with him

L shares his sweets with you more, as compared to somebody like Light, and you know he’ll get Watari to deliver whatever you want, whilst the other members get only what L requests for them. You are treated specially and he could care less that it makes him seem favouritistic, he is

L has a habit of mimicking you, kinda like a child. He follows you since your word is a lot more trustworthy. When you eat vegetables and meats with a smiley reaction, he is eating it too whilst waiting for your praise (Watari would struggle here, and he is a bit frustrated that his son listens to his gf, not his father

“Good morning— hm? I seem frustrated. Well… I am. Why is that? Don’t pretend like you don’t know the answer to that question, Dokusha. Yes, yes. I understand you fully. You don’t want me to die but this is my profession, and you shouldn’t be apart of this case. It’s too dangerous, you know how intense my feelings for you are”

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 21 days

Text

✨Staticmoth wedding headcanons✨

Because I have a lot of thoughts but can't come up with the plot to turn it into fic

✨ Vox absolutely loses his shit. You would think that Valentino would be a groomzilla material but oh no no, Val just wants sexy dress and enough coke to last three days of partying. Vox needs everything perfect. He has his grand vision and is ready to tear with bare hands everyone who does not deliver. During the preparation time, he murders as many people as Val usually does. Velvette bails on being the wedding planner after just two weeks because it was seriously straining their friendship. But after a month, she's back in the game. Why? Because Vox strangled three other wedding planners in frustration, and things weren't moving forward, so Val was starting to freak out.

✨ The event is held at the Vees' Tower. I reckon they've got a venue suitable for hosting conferences and porn award shows.

✨ It's a grand event. I'm talking Grand™, like the Kim K and Kanye West of Hell kind of grand. But it's also elite, so the guest list isn't that long, around 200 invited people plus 50 ticketed spots for anyone willing to drop 100k hellish bucks to attend. Everything is dripping with gold and diamonds because "quiet luxury" isn't in the Vees' vocabulary. The whole affair reflects Val's aesthetic more, as it's Vox's love letter to him. Vox already had his wedding, and now it's time to fulfill his husband's dreams. So Val makes about 90% of the decisions without shouldering any real responsibilities. Which is fine by everyone because he's annoying as hell when it comes to picking roses, flamingo feathers, and starters. Nobody wants to put him in high-stress situations. Expect lots of red, pink, and gold, with heavy, decadent fabrics and neon lights; it's like an exclusive brothel meets the Las Vegas strip.

✨ When it comes to flowers, they settled on roses because they're Vox's favorites, which naturally made them Val's favorite too, given the sheer number of bouquets he's received. Vox, being the freak he is, counts every single bouquet he's ever given to Val. So, for their wedding, he ensures there are twice as many roses. Yes, he's a pathological overachiever.

✨ As for attractions, there’s a plethora of erotic dancers in cages and mesmerizing drone light shows. Karaoke, slot machines, live cooking stations, and all the drugs you can imagine. And let's not forget a fountain flowing with tequila. It's a true adult wonderland.

✨ Valentino skips the whole white dress thing and rocks a fierce red latex gown that's very Mugler but with a fetishcore twist. Vox keeps it sleek in a sharp black three-piece suit. His shirt's a bold blue, and his tie matches Val's dress. His shoulder pads are pointy, his waist is slutty, his ass looks divine. Oh yeah, about slutty waist - underneath the shirt he is hiding a leather corset, as a treat for the wedding night.

✨ Also none of them really have friends other than Velvette, just associates so there are no groomsmen/maids.

✨ Since there aren't any traditional churches or government officials in Hell (if there's even a government at all), Velvette takes on the role of officiating the wedding. Vox isn't entirely thrilled with this choice because there's always the risk she might crack a joke or publicly rib him, but hey, there's really no one else who could pull it off. I imagine that a wedding in Hell is also some form of magical contract but more about partnership than ownership. They do not exchange rings but blood sksksk also I don’t think that Vox can really wear rings with his claws? And they couldn't quite agree on a design that satisfied both of them. In the end, Val ends up wearing his illegally imported engagement ring from Earth, featuring four pink diamonds shaped like a moth's wings.

✨ Val's vow is, well, atrocious. It's the kind of thing that would definitely land him in one of those TikTok compilations of terrible grooms ruining their weddings. He mentions cream pieing Vox at least once. Vox at first freaks out but seconds later realizes Wow that's the man I'm marrying. I wouldn't want him any other way On the flip side, Vox's vow is immaculate. Crafted with the assistance of Voxtek's CMO and practiced to perfection, it leaves everyone in awe. He has out-of-body experience playing this role of prince charming.

✨ For their first dance, they opt for a steamy tango. Picture this: swirling red smoke on the floor, making it seem like they're dancing on the sky of the pride ring when the sun is setting down. Little do the guests know, the smoke is laced with drugs, sending most of them on a wild trip. The party quickly goes off the rails, but in the best way possible (according to the Vees’ standards).

✨ The cake is a five-tier monstrosity with five different flavors: tres leches and chocolate-cherry chosen by Val, confetti cake and strawberry cheesecake chosen by Vox and Red Velvet for Velvette because she couldn't shut up about it To top it all off, there's a big chocolate figure of Vox and Valentino dancing. Val is later caught drunk, eating it with his bare hands like the filthy animal he is.

✨ Velvette’s wedding gift is a pair of customized matching guns with small engravings that read "Partners in Crime."

✨ Valentino pulls off a surprise special pole dance performance as a wedding gift for his husband. Let's just say it's scorching hot and leaves at least 50 guests with, uh, visible excitement. Later on, things almost escalate to a full-on table bang, but...

✨ Velvette spends the entire evening reminding them that they can't just vanish to consummate their marriage because this whole party took months of preparations, and they need to be present. After all, people paid good money to be around them. The threat of cock cages hangs over their heads, but they promise to behave. However, Val being the horny beast he is, ends up taking Vox to the bathroom for a quickie anyway. Velvette decides to let it slide this time.

✨ At least 20 casualties mark the night. Vox ends up zapping one of the guests who gets a bit too clingy with Val during the dance. Meanwhile, Val gets into a brawl and, well, let's just say it doesn't end well for the other guy. Surprisingly, everyone seems to be having a great time, but hey, these are the Vees' colleagues we're talking about—they thrive on violence and sex.

✨ Yeah, there's no shortage of sex at this party. With a guest list mainly consisting of businesspeople, adult performers, and mobsters, tensions escalate rapidly. By around 3 A.M., half of the party is busy getting down and dirty in every corner imaginable.

✨ When Vox reaches the perfect level of drunkenness, he seizes control of the DJ station. Surprisingly, he's a natural, dropping beats like a pro and having an absolute blast. Val, meanwhile, goes absolutely wild watching him, thrilled to see Vox letting loose and embracing his creative side.

✨ Derek, Vox's assistant, is the odd one out, the only low-status person to snag an invite because Vox felt kinda generous. But truth be told, Derek hates the idea and wasn't keen on attending. However, when Melissa caught wind of his invitation, she practically dragged him there to be his plus one, desperate to get closer to Velvette. Derek's terrified of most of the guests, but Melissa's over the moon. She later fucks him as a reward for being a very brave boy. Angel is not invited because he would ruin mood of both grooms.

✨ Valentino had prepared the filthiest, kinkiest, most elaborate wedding night, but it doesn't go as planned. Surprisingly, things turn out very vanilla for their standards, with a lot of missionary, eye contact, and hand-holding. After 16 hours of non-stop action, they're both too exhausted to even think about getting creative.

Thank you @purrpleowl @watcherofeternalflame @canadianlucifer @aroromantic @malu897 @staticmothed @chaggieslovechild @gumm1defloor @mayflowersfly for your thoughts!

#hazbin hotel #vox #valentino #vox hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #the vees #staticmoth #voxval #fluff #headcanon #self indulgence at its finest #melissa hazbin hotel #vox's assistant

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nevernonline · 7 months

Text

✧.* what’s your number?; kmg

synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.

paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.

warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia

word count: 3.8k

content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.

note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.

“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.”

Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures.

“Sir, can I ask why?”

“Budget cuts, sorry honey.”

Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending.

“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.”

“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.”

You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber.

Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this.

After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job.

Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’

“Okay, so society is regressing.”

Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21.

Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result.

“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.”

A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor.

[3:44pm].

Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency”

Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time?

Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you.

Y/n: got it see you in five.

Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women.

Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway.

“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!”

The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?”

“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“

“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?”

Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz.

“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.”

“Oh. Okay, let me change.”

Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo.

“Ailee, let yourself out okay?”

“Call me?”

“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.”

The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again.

Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you.

“She seems nice.”

“Yeah trust me, she’s not.”

“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?”

“We don’t have to talk about her.”

“Missing that jacket still?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself.

“What is this? What’s your number?”

“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.”

You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands

“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?”

“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.”

“Not true, we haven’t fucked.”

“Right and we will not.”

“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?”

“Do you really need that answer?”

“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.”

“17.”

Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal.

“Oh come on, that is not that bad.”

“What’s yours?”

“Maybe 20?”

“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.”

“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.”

“Bad day?”

The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table.

“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.”

“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?”

“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.”

“I see. What are you wearing?”

“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?”

Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party.

“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.”

“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.”

“Anything for you, rich girl.”

You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother.

“Wow, I didn’t expect this.”

“And what did you expect?”

“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.”

Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric.

“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.”

“You finish quickly .”

“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.”

Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out.

“Okay, I look-“

“Beautiful.”

“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?”

“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?”

He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck.

“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.”

“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?”

“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.”

“Okay, mom. Jesus.”

“Dad. Daddy, actually.”

“That's never happening.”

Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot.

“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.”

“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Aren’t you?”

Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys.

“Right. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.”

“Bye, Gyu.”

Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door.

“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.”

“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?”

“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.”

Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family.

Grabbing a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze.

“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.”

“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.”

You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol.

“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?”

“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.”

“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?”

“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.”

“Gay? He has wonderful taste.”

“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.”

“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?”

“Maybe next time.”

After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.”

“Yep.”

Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book.

“Hello, Dad. May I come in?”

“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?”

“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?”

“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.”

“Shall we, sir?”

“Yes, my girl.”

You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain.

Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember.

“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?”

Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now.

“Are you going to embarrass me?”

“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.”

“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.”

“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.”

“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?”

Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on.

After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you.

“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.”

Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses.

“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.”

Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk.

The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl.

“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.”

“What? How did you guess that?”

“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.”

Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple.

More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you.

Mingyu.

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Mixed sexes bachelor party.”

Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before.

“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?”

“I have one.”

You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you.

“You’re paying.”

“Yes. That was the plan.”

His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over.

“Two whiskey sours please.”

“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.”

The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses.

“Here you go, tab Mingyu?”

“Yes, thanks John.”

“Wow first name bases?”

“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?”

You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar.

“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.”

“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?”

“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.”

“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.”

“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.”

“Do you remember his number?”

“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.”

“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?”

“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.”

“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.”

“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?”

“Touchè”

“What about him?”

Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips.

“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.”

“And let my work go to waste?”

You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body.

“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.”

“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?”

“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.”

“Shut up.”

“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.”

“I see, you have a kink.”

“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.”

You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason.

“I like seeing you too.”

Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him.

You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame

“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”

“You like?”

“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?”

“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?”

“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?”

“She’ll be tied up.”

“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.”

Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass.

“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Is this Mingyu?”

“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.”

Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly.

“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.”

“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.”

“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.”

Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment.

“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.”

“He seems nice, his wife to be too.”

You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors.

“Your place or mine?”

“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.”

Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine.

Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment.

“Come on.”

You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom.

“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.”

You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs.

“Fuck.”

His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs.

Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria.

Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next.

“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.”

“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?”

“Eager are we?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs.

“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.”

Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more.

“Comfortable, baby?”

“Yes, faster please.”

“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them.

“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me either, but it’s only round one.”

“Do you want to do this again?”

“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.”

With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth.

“Want to stay?”

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.”

The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two.

“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”

Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo.

“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.”

“So I’m your lucky number?”

“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.”

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head.

“I dare you.”

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year

Text

Help Save the FrogFamily Home

This community I’ve built has been so incredibly generous to me over the years. Part of me feels I don’t deserve to ask for another thing. But I am facing desperation and I don’t know what else to do.

I’ve had a rough couple of years. First, my beloved corgi, Otis, passed away. Then my mom’s health took a turn. I had to take care of her all on my own. And eventually, COVID took her from me. Then my dad’s body began to fail him. I had to be his full-time caretaker. I had to watch his body and mind slowly deteriorate until he finally passed away in March.

I wish I could just take some time to mourn my parents and heal my soul…

But life decided against that.

We tried to make plans so that I would be taken care of after my father’s death. That I would be able to stay in our family home for as long as I desired. But those plans are falling apart at the moment.

Lawyers and probate and debt collectors, oh my.

There is a chance we can get everything sorted, but all indicators show that it could take a while before that happens. Possibly a long while. And my disability payments aren’t even enough to cover the mortgage–much less all the other bills and expenses.

I need to buy time.

Literally.

I need to extend my financial runway long enough to get things sorted. The longer that runway, the better the chances are I can figure all of this out.

I need time to sell all of my parents’ valuable belongings. I need time to fix up our very large separated garage so I can rent it out as a workshop or storage. I need time to fix up the house so it is suitable for a roommate. And I need time to work with social security so I can possibly find financial independence for life.

Unfortunately, without that time, I could face homelessness. I’m sure I could find a place to stay for a while, but I would lose the only home I’ve ever known. The home my mom and dad spent a lifetime fixing up and perfecting. The place in this world I feel most safe and comfortable.

I’ve already lost so much recently. I’m not sure I could bear losing my home as well.

If I lost my home I’d probably have to live on couches for up to two years until government housing was available. And then I’d have to spend the rest of my days in a small single room apartment. I know there are people who would feel lucky to have that, but I’d really prefer to stay in my house if possible. And I don’t think anyone would blame me for wanting that. Especially when all I need to make that happen is a little time.

So I am asking all of you to help buy me some time.

Every $1200 equals another month I have to sort things out. I honestly don’t know how much time I need. I would hope 3 to 6 months would be enough. But the wheels of bureaucracy can move frustratingly slow. So the more time I have, the better the chances are I can save my home and secure my livelihood.

Thank you so much for reading this.

Check out the GoFundMe page here.

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jacesvelaryons · 1 month

Note

I have a request for billy!!! an angst to fluff fic, where the reader gets shot, maybe on the shoulder so its not too severe but billy is just frantic

peace.

masterlist

requests OPEN

a/n: thank you for your request! apologies they’ve been taking long, but hopefully from now on, my requests will be answered more consistently and sooner 🩷

please continue to like, reblog, comment and share what you think as i love to hear feedback/comment on what you think of my content. thanks a lot!

billy the kid x reader

word count: 1.0k workds

summary: Billy fears he may have lost you when you're shot, but he makes it just in time.

You wince every step you make, pulling over your shawl closer over your torso. Only a few more steps, you assure yourself.

Being a schoolteacher at the local school on an abandoned farm house a few missionaries founded a few miles from where you lived with Billy did not make much, but it was honest work. It was what you and Billy deserved running away from the rising tensions in Lincoln, trotting off to a village closer to the Midwest where no one knew who you were and you could start anew.

It was a quiet, idyllic town of under a thousand people, full of very welcoming locals who accepted you both as newly weds, haphazardly making your vows with the priest before you left when it became too violent and unruly. It was that, or more salacious livelihoods, which gave you a shudder.

As a newly married couple, the town came together to help you both choose a new home, a simple but suitable old barn, nothing much but enough for comfort. Billy picked up work as a ranch hand to the farm next door, and you were approached by some nuns to help with the new school due to the growing population of little ones with the families moving in the growing city.

Which is why you did not expect during a lesson of arithmetics, a drunken, fractious vagrant barges in the farmhouse, careless with his firearms. You panic, instinct driving you to huddle and protect the children, until help could come to ward him off. Screams,frantic footsteps, cries for help, until two loggers were able to hunt him down and get him under custody with the sheriff and arrest him for questioning.

You were relieved and grateful all your students were spoken for, but you were not spared, a bullet made its way to your arm before he could be captured. Your headmistress dropped you off on the carriage in front of your home with Billy, ignored her worried look as you strutted home, praying he wasn’t home to see you in this condition.

Just as you opened the door and sauntered in quietly, you stepped on the loose plank that squeaked, alerting Billy who was having coffee and toast at the dining table. As his eyes met you, his eyes widened seeing the blood trail starting to form from your arm.

“What happened to you?”

“I know, don’t panic-”

“How can I not panic, you’re bleeding?! Let me see.” He marches up to you, waiting anxiously for you to take off your shawl and blouse. Billy helps you peel it off, seeing the bullet on your bicep, tugging you gently towards the couch.

Billy agitatedly goes through the cabinet searching for his first aid kit, or the basic stitches, needles, and bandages he could have acquired before you both absconded to the new town.

“We have to call the town doctor, love. I can’t believe they let you walk out like that.”

You looked down sheepishly, realizing he was right. Your tendency not wanting to make a ruckus and stay out of trouble even at the possibility of death or infection would be the end of you.

“Y-You’re right. I’m sorry.” Billy kisses you on the forehead before he runs out your home, calling out for a doctor to help, or at least some learned healer women if they were predisposed. Not that there were many in this small town, at least more than Lincoln.

A doctor and his female assistant ran into your home several minutes later, bag in hand to take the bullet out your arm the best they can, and seal up your wounds.

Billy watches you tensely, feet tapping against the wood floor, arms crossed deep in thought and sweat down his brow as he worries about your well being. You smile weakly at him, even as you grow slightly pale and cool from the pain of the bullet still in your arm.

“I’ll be fine, darlin’. Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere soon. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You assure him, reaching for his hand with your unhurt arm, tightening your grip around his, a teasing undertone to your voice. He chuckles slightly, the worry still consuming him.

He gets on his knees, pleading with a tight grip on your hands. “You’re a fighter, my girl. Please don’t leave me. “

“I won’t, my love, I promise.” You take a deep breath as the doctor begins to operate on you and remove the bullet carefully, the morphine and opioid he gave you earlier beginning to kick in.

Billy is escorted out your humble abode by the assistant, but he refuses to keep his eyes away from you. He refuses to look away ,as if he would lose you if he would.

To both of your relief, the doctor explains the wound will heal, leaving a scar, that the bullet has been removed and you were lucky it was just a graze, because a few centimeters left, it could have been fatal and hit a major artery.

He thanks the doctor and his assistant, handing a small bag of coins into their hands before they leave, before he turns back to you, still worried but relief washed all over him.

“I could have lost you, my sweet. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Billy tears up as he caresses your face gently, cradling you close to him in apprehension.

You lean into him weakly, mindful of the newly stitched up wound on your arm. “I’m not going anywhere, Billy.”

Billy sniffles, wiping his tears as he watches you fondly, relieved you were to recover.

“Do you know who may have attempted to shoot at me and my students?”

He nods grimly. “They have, he’s been rounded by the sheriff and won’t cause us any more trouble, darling. I promise, you’re safe, we’ll be safe.” You nodded, tearing up at him as he presses his forehead to yours.

No one would haunt you or Billy no more. No longer would the ghosts of your past, of violence, of instability, of bloodshed haunt you both anymore. Together, you’d find peace in your small town.

#billy the kid x reader #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #billy the kid #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #william h bonney x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #tom blyth

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mirnilop · 9 months

Text

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you��re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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save-the-villainous-cat · 3 months

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It took them quite a lot of time to get up to the rooftop.

In all honesty, the villain didn’t know what they were doing. They acted like a child, irrational and aimless, as tears gathered in their eyes over and over again. As they gasped for air and couldn’t hold back desperate pleas.

Considering that they were dragging the hero along with them, they were, in fact, feeling like they had gone insane. The tears wouldn’t stop and no matter how hard their legs shook, the villain didn’t stop either.

Once they had reached the door they let the hero sit against the wall and then, with all the strength the villain had left in them, they threw themselves against the door. It opened with an unpleasant sound, shaking them as if it reached their bones as pain exploded in their shoulder. Soon enough, the cold air hit them and the villain continued to drag the hero outside.

It was still dark but that would change soon. Outside, they let the hero rest against the door. They took off their own cape and put it around the hero’s shoulders, trying to cover every body part of them.

Soon enough, they sat down next to them, their breath heavy, their heart even heavier.

“Just a couple of minutes,” the villain said. They looked at the horizon and then back at the battered hero who bled out of their nose and ears. “You think you can hold on a little longer?”

They took the hero’s hand but the hero didn’t speak. They gave the villain a tired smile and their eyes moved when they were studying the villain’s face.

The villain feared the hero’s last words had already been spoken. A raspy “please.” The villain didn’t know if the hero was capable of speaking anymore or if they didn’t have the energy to do so.

“Do you remember when we first met? You almost sliced me in half.” The hero kept staring at them with their exhausted eyes and the villain leaned a little more against them. “I was so angry. God, I used to be so angry.”

All of it came at once: the tears, the desperation, the despair. The villain didn’t know what was worse. They threw their hands around the hero and pulled them close.

“It…it should’ve been me—” they cried, leaving tears that mixed with blood on the hero’s skin. “You weren’t even supposed to be here.”

They hoped they didn’t imagine it. A soft grip around their fingers. The villain looked at them, their unresponsive hero who had traded their life to save the villain’s. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just.

They took it as response. As an attempt of comfort.

“Please forgive me,” the villain said. They brushed some hair out of the hero’s face. “You do not deserve this, you don’t…”

They looked up at the sky and there, slowly but steadily, the sun rose above the horizon. The sunrise dipped the sky into different reds and oranges, making the city look mystical and strange. As if it wasn’t the origin of their suffering. As if this city hadn’t just taken their beloved hero.

The villain allowed themselves to take in a deep breath.

They looked at the hero who watched the sunrise, despite being exhausted, who let their head rest on the villain’s shoulder, who was still fighting so hard.

And then, very gently, the hero mumbled the villain’s name. Not their alias, not their surname but the name their mother had given to them. It sounded strange coming out of their mouth with their broken voice and their mouth full of blood.

Nothing else, just the villain’s name in the softest tone possible.

The villain looked at them but the hero only stared at the sunrise. After a few minutes, the villain worked up the courage to check their pulse and breathing. The hero had asked them specifically not to do CPR in such a situation.

Thus, all the villain could do was sit there with the hero’s body and pray some higher being would give the villain a suitable punishment for all their failures.

#felt emo today sry #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #angst

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ggidolsmuts · 1 year

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The Escort - Seolhyun

Seolhyun has always been one of those "it" girls—she was everywhere, on commercials, billboards, posters, cutouts. Women wanted the clothes she wore, wanted the makeup she used, wished they had her figure, an idol in every sense of the word. Men wanted her, to be around her—in front of, behind, under, above, you name a position, someone would want her in that position. To any outsider looking in Seolhyun had it all—the looks, the figure, the commercials, the success, and a lucky lover, surely.

Surely.

But no, Seolhyun lacked that very last thing—someone who could satisfy her most surely. She didn't need a lucky lover, she needed a professional one. Which is why you are knocking on her door at night.

"Come in. Are you the umm— umm..." Cutely she stammers, and you save her the awkwardness.

"That is correct, I'm your male escort from the agency, very nice to meet you." You had seen her photos of course, and her commercials—it was hard not to, she is everywhere.

"Right. So how does this work?"

"This is your first time with us, I believe? Please specify what you would like, and I'll do my best to make it happen. At the end you can decide if you want to continue with me going forward."

"What happens then?"

"From then on you can message me a time, place, and duration, along with what you would like to do, and I'll quote you a price. If we agree on a price then it'll happen as you wish."

"And what if I don't want to continue with you after today?"

"No problem of course, please make a second request with the agency and they will send someone else different and you can see if they are more suitable for you."

"Right, and no one will know about this?"

"Yes, being discreet is part of the job description. The agency is just the middleman for the initial transaction, after that everything is between the two of us."

Seolhyun nods in understanding, slightly relaxing on her sofa. She had wanted this, yet still she is nervous, that you somehow leak it to the media. At least for now, your answer is good enough.

"Okay, so, I just tell you what I want now, and you'll do it?"

"Correct."

"Mmm, okay then, make me cum in 5 minutes."

"Got it, can you show that you're clean? And when does the timer start, when you get naked?" Little did Seolhyun know, you're laying a trap for her, just a trick of the trade.

"Sure, one second, and yes let's go with that." She gives it little thought, focusing on your first request. Perfect. She presents her test results, and courteously you present your own clean bill of health.

"Thank you, do you foresee yourself having other partners should you continue with my services?"

"Umm, no, I don't think so?"

"Okay, should you have other partners please do a check up before we meet, and I will do the same should I have other customers. It's best for both of us." Seolhyun nods in agreement.

"What about condoms, will you have them prepared?"

"They are not needed, I have taken precautions on my end to prevent any accidents and test my sperm count regularly, I can provide the most recent results should you want them. Of course, if you prefer I use condoms I can accommodate any preference you have, ribbed, flavored, stuff like that."

"Oh, umm, no, that's okay, but please send me the test results." You agree and make a mental note to do it after tonight. Seolhyun turns red as her mind wanders a little. "So do you... finish inside generally?"

"No, only if the customer specifically asks for it, either in the request or during the session. It helps with clean up if I finish outside."

"Oh, makes sense I guess." Seolhyun doesn't say anything more, so you prod her a little.

"Shall we begin then?"

"Oh! Yes, your 5 minutes starts—"

"Ah, but we agreed that it starts when you're naked. There's no rush. Now, if I may." You sit down next to Seolhyun on the couch before swiftly sweeping her into your lap sideways. "I would like to get to know you better first."

Seolhyun gasps at your forward act, your hand already comfortably around her lower back and hips while the other runs down her long legs. She wonders if you notice the shiver going up her body—how long has it been since she's been with someone that doesn't rush into things?

"What's there to know?"

"Everything. I'm sure you've heard this before, but you're a bombshell Miss Seolhyun—"

"Seolhyun will do."

"Of course. As I was saying, you're a bombshell Seolhyun, and consider me a bomb expert." Your breath is warm, husky in her ear. Your hands are not idle as you roam her clothed body—the hand on her legs trails up to her honey thighs, stopping just short of where her shorts ended. "I like to know what makes you tick, how you are wired, where the current flows." The other hand moves up her back, dawdling briefly where a bra strap would be before continuing to gently massage her neck, and Seolhyun coos at the firm touch. "Like in the movies, it's all about the wires you know? Which ones to cut—" You slip a finger under the strap of her spaghetti top, carelessly pulling it off her shoulder. "And which ones to pull." She lets out a surprised squeak as you firmly tug on her hair—the slight sting sends a thrill straight down her spine. As she squirms in place she feels your hardened length right beneath her, only a small distance away from her own need—professional as you are, you're still only human, especially when Seolhyun's in your lap, letting you feel every curve of her.

"What happens after you understand the bomb?" She warms up in your lap, and you see the flush rising in her cheeks.

"Oh that's just part one. There are also buttons to push—" Daringly you cup a breast, firmly pushing on the stiff nub you feel. You smirk at the soft moan she lets out. "It is important to know the right sequence of buttons to press. And those are just the obvious ones, some are more... Hidden." Your hand dives down her body, past her smooth stomach, and Seolhyun tenses, expecting you to touch her clit—she's all of a sudden keenly aware of how aroused she is, of how wet she's gotten. But no, you pull away at the last moment.

"Wait—" Seolhyun opens her mouth to speak up, and you take the opportunity to kiss her, plunging your tongue past her lips. Instantly you're hugging her tightly, squeezing her into your body as you twist and dance with her tongue. Your expression of passion stuns and dizzies Seolhyun even further, skyrocketing her raw desire. You have her melting in your arms, and she whines when you pull back.

"Yes, let's wait on that." You return to kissing Seolhyun, but this time you are more controlled, merely pressing your lips to hers, occasionally sucking her lower lip, very rarely dipping your tongue into her even as she licks yours, trying to entice you back. Her hands are tense on your arms, both to hold herself together and to keep you close, her nails lightly scratching you. As you distract her with the kiss your fingers dance across her body, finding her weak spots, noting where her breath hitches, where her nails scratch you a little deeper, where she starts to tremble, where she starts to squirm, and where she starts to moan. By the time you are satisfied with your initial exploration Seolhyun's eyes are unfocused and staring past you, at the orgasm that's so close at hand.

"Now I would like to see you explode." She doesn't even register your words, for at the same time you whisper to her you press a single finger on her pussy, made all the easier to pinpoint by the wetness on her shorts. Seolhyun screams into your shoulder at the sudden pressure and detonates. She bucks vigorously against your finger, smearing it with all the slick that's soaking through her clothes. Her lithe figure twitches and jerks against you, her legs trapping your hand between them.

"Oh my god, oh fuck!" You keep the pressure on her slit, and her violent bucking makes you rub her clit with your drenched finger, extending her wild climax. Her feet slam into couch as she tries to thrust even harder against your finger, begging you to just apply a bit more force, to plunge through her layers of fabric and penetrate her. But you would not give her that satisfaction this early, not tonight. With practiced judgment you lift the pressure immediately, and Seolhyun sinks back into your lap. She whimpers as you reward her with more gentle swipes of your finger, bringing her right up to, but not past, the point of overstimulation. You move slower and slower, and Seolhyun comes back down, opening her eyes, now focused and surprised—you just gave her one of her more intense orgasms without even taking off a single piece of clothing.

"What did you just do, wow..."

"Just getting to know you better." Seolhyun blushes as you remove the finger from between her legs—there is a long trail of juice that clings on to your digit, not unlike how she's clinging to you right now, and only with a shake do you break the stubborn link. "I hope you found that acceptable."

"I umm, yes." Seolhyun finds herself dumped unceremoniously on the sofa as you stand up.

"Excellent, I look forward to working with you."

"Wait, what about you?" Her gaze goes to your erection, still very much visible through your pants. You haven't fucked me yet! you can read Seolhyun's thoughts on her face.

"That is not a problem, it will go down shortly." You say smoothly, wanting to lock in a following appointment.

"But—" I want you to fuck me! Seolhyun can't bring herself to say it that bluntly, but the redness on her cheeks lays her thoughts bare.

"I look forward to your message." You let yourself out, leaving your new customer stunned and needy.

Seolhyun processes what just happened as she remains dumbly on the couch. Now she knows you're a real professional, making her feel so good yet leaving her hanging—you won't give her real satisfaction until you've made some money off her. And you will, Seolhyun's already hooked, already planning when she can have you come over next. She quickly decides on a time and place, but first...

"Oh fuck yes..." she groans in relief as she plunges two fingers down her shorts and into her pussy—if only you had pushed your finger in! Somehow it feels even better than usual, Seolhyun covers her mouth as she humps her own hand, huffing and groaning. She's already imagining her session with you, how she wants you—between her legs, eating her out, your tongue dipping in and out of her like you did in her mouth earlier, oh god that would feel so good! And then she's thinking about how she wants you to take her, in what positions—she liked missionary, would you think that is too vanilla? Bent over maybe, or on her side? You felt big earlier, now she's wondering how deep and—

"Mmmm!" All of the images in her head are wiped out as Seolhyun brings herself to another orgasm. Her legs go taut, her teeth nipping at the back of her hand, but that's it, it doesn't compare. She groans and murmurs as she comes down quickly, the peak way smaller than the one she had with you, barely enough to satiate her for now...

You smile when you see Seolhyun's message later that night, and you respond to her accordingly.

*Session #: 2*

*Location: Hyatt Seoul*

*Time: Friday at 10 pm*

*Duration: Overnight*

*Request: Vanilla*

*Price: 1,000,000 Won*

You knock on the door, and you are greeted by Seolhyun, still concealing her identity with sunglasses and a mask.

"Hello, just arrived?" you ask, noting her long jacket still hanging on her shoulders.

"Yes, you're on time, I was hoping to have time to prepare."

"Of course, you pay for my time, so I have to make sure you get the full night with me." She shivers at the thought—a full night with you!

"Please take as much time as you need to prepare, can I take your jacket?" Seolhyun shrugs off her coat, and you take it for her as she brings her overnight bag into the bathroom. Seolhyun takes a deep breath as she opens it—a set of clothes for tomorrow, her makeup pouch, and at the very bottom, a set of lace lingerie for tonight. Part of her wants to impress you, to make you want her beyond the paycheck you get from her, but then she thinks about your job—surely you've had other sexier, more experienced customers? Would she compare, could she compare? After a quick shower she looks at her own naked body in the mirror and though she is very much in shape, Seolhyun is suddenly self-conscious—should she have shaved down there, did you have a preference? I should have asked! Chiding herself and feeling inexperienced, she redoes her make up and throws on a robe.

"Would you like to shower?"

"Oh, no thank you, I showered right before coming here." Of course you did, you were the professional! Seolhyun chides herself once more. Not sure about how to start the night, she opens her robe and sits on the bed, partially revealing the lingerie to you.

"That's very nice Seolhyun, you look good in it." She blushes at your compliment, almost embarrassed at her own reaction, why is she being such a pushover?

"Thanks, umm, how do you want to do it?"

"That's up to you, you mentioned vanilla, so whatever you consider vanilla."

"Oh," her mind works overtime, suddenly unable to remember all the other times she's had sex. "I guess you on top, some foreplay, and then we can do it?"

"That sounds good to me." Seolhyun's eyes rake and rove over you as you undo your tie and unbutton your shirt, and she's unconsciously rubbing her neck and biting her lip as you lose your pants, joining her on the bed in only your boxers. You carelessly brush her robe off, and soon her slender body is pressed against yours, thighs spread with a light tap from your knees—god Seolhyun is ready to be fucked. But she wanted foreplay, so you revisit the spots that had her squirming last time, much to the same effect.

"W-Wait, I have a request!" Seolhyun gasps as you nip at her neck, very aware of her lace panties being ruined by her own fluids.

"Of course, what is it?"

"Make me cum harder than last time, think you can do it?" she tries to sound challenging, but she already knows that's too easy for you. At this rate she will cum harder than last time even without you doing anything special.

"As you wish," you take it up a notch, your fingers gripping her more tightly. "I was planning to anyways." You overwhelm Seolhyun with a flurry of kisses and firm touches, pushing her bra up and directly squeezing her chest. She tries to reach around to take it off, but you've pinned her fully onto the bed, she might as well have been tied down and— Oh fuck that would be good too! Seolhyun whimpers as the thought runs through her head.

"Something wrong?" You stop immediately, misinterpreting her vocalizations.

"T-The bra." Her stiff nipples brush against your chest as you hug her tighter and reach behind and pull the thin piece of fabric off her. You return to assaulting her senses, managing to shimmy your boxers off as she squirms beneath you. You use one hand to keep her distracted, squeezing handfuls of her breasts, while the other reaches for her lace panties and pulls them to the side. Without a word you push into Seolhyun, drawing a surprised squeal from her. You had wrongfooted her once again—she expected some fingerplay, but you had correctly judged her readiness, and so the first stimulation of her pussy is your penetration.

"Oh fuck, oh yes!" You sit back on your heels and place your hands around her midriff, lifting her hips and keeping them where you wanted. Seolhyun's back makes a nice arc as you fuck her with shallow upward thrusts, the angle allowing you to find her g-spot and push it relentlessly.

"Right there, don't stop, please don't stop!" You tug Seolhyun over and over on your cock, making sure to prod her sweet spot with your tip every time, and in short order her toes are curling, fingers digging into the sheets as she climaxes strongly. She never stood a chance, overwhelmed from the moment she was on the bed, and her walls spasm around you violently. It requires a lot of your self-control to not just bury yourself fully in Seolhyun, but you save that for later and continue fucking her with partial thrusts.

"Nnngh yes! Fuck me!" Seolhyun moans huskily as you bring her to another peak, her slick streaming down your shaft at this point. She thrashes on the bed, only held together by your hands around her twitching tummy. Eventually the jerking subsides, and Seolhyun goes slack.

"Fuck that was great—" You take her by surprise once more and push her hips down to the bed. Swiftly you get on top of her again, and this time you plunge fully into Seolhyun. Her wide eyes roll into her head—after being fucked with shallow thrusts and contracting around only part of your shaft, your deep thrust seems to fuck all the breath out of her.

No! The thought leaves her lips as only a wispy gasp as she feels impossibly stretched, your cock seemingly thicker and longer than anything she's had. You grind and roll your hips, making sure her walls get properly pushed wide open, even as they try to contract around you—Seolhyun's rolling into another orgasm.

"Fuckohmygodcummingagain!" she says all that with a half-breath, the rest of it reserved for a scream as you pull back and slam into her roughly. Seolhyun's never had so strong or so many orgasms back to back, and all she can do is scream her pleasure as you proceed to fulfill her request with every climax you bring her to...

"God yes yes yes!" This is when you started kissing her to silence her screams.

"Nnngh.... fuck!" This is when she felt you knocking at the entrance to her womb, triggering more orgasms. Seolhyun tries to wrap her legs around you, either to keep you from getting that deep, or to have you cum in her, but she's already too weak to do so properly.

"Mmm!" This is when you started grinding your hips against hers again, making sure you brushed against her clit on every thrust, and Seolhyun's reduced to a writhing and melting hot body. As you reach your limit you pull out, and with perfect timing you spill your load between her legs and on her toned midriff.

Request satisfied.

You take a deep breath to compose yourself; Seolhyun requires multiple, her eyes still closed, makeup lightly smeared.

"Sorry about that, Seolhyun." Are the first words she hears when she opens her eyes, and she is thoroughly confused. Did she hear you wrong?

"What do you mean?"

"Your panties are stained with my release, my apologies." That was what you were apologizing for?

"It's okay, I already ruined them anyways," Seolhyun mutters as she pulls off the lace cumrag. You're already handing her tissues as she looks to clean up. "W-What now?" she wonders aloud, looking to you.

"It'll take me about 15 minutes to be ready to go again, I can pleasure you in the meantime while we wait."

"N-No, it's okay, take your time." Her legs close together to reinforce the fact. "Let's take a breather." Seolhyun goes to the bathroom again, collecting herself as she wipes her thighs—they were shiny with her slick, she'd never seen anything like it, like she had squirted. Did she squirt? She groans as she looks herself in the mirror and tries to fix her messy makeup, should she even bother? Just a brief touch up then.

"So what else do customers ask you to do on an overnight stay?" Seolhyun asks as she exits the bathroom.

"Could be anything, they come up with stuff on the fly like you did, or they have a list of positions they want to try, some have even shown me porn to highlight what scenes they want."

"Do they just tell you to do what you want?"

"Rarely, that's not what I'm here for, after all." Seolhyun's brow is furrowed as she tries to come up with what to do next—she had assumed it'd just be straight fucking, but hearing your answer now she wanted it to be at least somewhat interesting, not just milquetoast bed play... Maybe that’s it? Don’t do it on the bed?

"There's no rush to come up with something, here have some water, I feel like you need it." You smirk, and Seolhyun's eyes dart to the wet spot on the bed. Wow, she did squirt. She watches you drink your water, and she slowly pieces together something she thought was interesting, something that would be different.

"Okay, I think I know what I want you to do next."

"Excellent, what will it be?"

"I want you to fuck me on every surface in the room." There, surely that's something you don't do every time?

"Understood." Seolhyun can't read your expression, or rather, she doesn't get to as you carry her and place her on the desk. "Shall we begin?"

The night becomes a hedonic blur for Seolhyun as you fuck her on every flat surface there is. And as she drowsily wakes up the next morning, the previous night comes back in fragments.

She remembers the desk, her hands knocking the lamp to the ground.

"I got you." Your husky whisper is vivid in her memory as you pushed her against the door, your hands supporting her as the door rattled loudly in her ears. She rode you on the sofa at some point, or was that on the loveseat?

"No, wait, that's too risky!" You press her against the glass window of the hotel room, curtains drawn open for all to see, but at her request you turn her around, and Seolhyun's ass is laid bare for anyone who cared to look up as you pounded her into the window.

"The TV!" Seolhyun gasps as her back hits it, nearly tipping it over. You settle for bending her over the console.

Her last coherent memory is of her clinging on to you, makeup completely ruined as she realizes you intended to fuck her on every surface in the suite. Going by the soreness in her body you did do just that. She pushes herself off the bed, to find you already fully dressed, taking a sip of coffee.

"Good morning, I made you a cup as well."

"Thanks, are you leaving now?"

"Yes."

"Okay, one second..." Seolhyun fumbles for her phone, and a minute later you receive a payment notification.

"Thank you, I'll leave you be. Until next time then." You bow slightly and let yourself out, leaving Seolhyun satisfied but already planning the next time to meet you—she's hopelessly addicted.

*Session #: 7*

*Location: A backstreet in Seoul*

*Time: Saturday at 11 pm*

*Duration: 15 minutes*

*Request: Quickie, but dress formally!*

*Price: 200,000 Won*

"I don't get why it's so expensive," Seolhyun mumbles as you join her in the backalley.

"Because you gave me no notice, and you had me dress up," you reply as you take in her outfit, a sleek red dress that showed off her figure nicely.

"Everyone's here for the award show, you'd stand out too much if you didn't dress properly!" She tries to take off her dress, but can't do it without dirtying it and drawing suspicion.

"Here, please take off your panties and hand them to me." Seolhyun does as you say, and you pocket them for safekeeping. "Allow me." You lift her left leg, hooking her knee with an arm. It gives you just enough to work with, and you pull the dress along the slit to expose her own slit. Your own pants are already at your knees, and holding her steady you plunge into her.

"N-No marks!" Seolhyun reminds you, her bare shoulders and collarbones exposed to the night.

"Of course." You bury your face in her neck—from the street side of the alley the two of you looked like lovers making out, but from the dead end of the alley it is clear what is going on, with Seolhyun's leg lifted and propped open for easy access.

"Oh, oh fuck yes..." Seolhyun gasps into the night sky, the thrill of being fucked in public and the need to get fucked right now hitting her harder than the wall behind. You pull her into your thrusts to not slam her into the rough wall, and it pays off as Seolhyun marks your neck with a nip and a muffled shout. You pull out with a groan and shoot your load on the ground, barely missing her heels.

"Can you stand?"

"Hm? Oh, yes I think so." Holding her close you slowly let her leg down, and Seolhyun leans on you to maintain stability. Seolhyun pings you the payment as you put on your pants, and she's already walking towards the street, eager to get back before people notice that she's gone missing.

"Seolhyun!" you hiss as loud as you can without shouting. "Your underwear!" You point to your pocket for emphasis. You can't make out what she mouths back, but her actions make it clear as she walks away from you.

Keep it.

*Session #: 10*

*Location: Seolhyun's place*

*Time: Friday at 9 pm*

*Duration: 1 hour*

*Request: Submissive*

*Price: 200,000 Won*

"I would like to be on top." Seolhyun tells you as you get naked.

"Of course, and what would you like me to call you?"

"What do you mean?"

"As a sub I wouldn't be using your name, perhaps something like ma'am or mommy?"

"Definitely not mommy, try ma'am?"

"Of course ma'am." Seolhyun shakes her head.

"No, not that, sounds too old, what about mistress?"

"Yes, Mistress Seolhyun." She likes the sound of that, taking off her t-shirt and straddling you.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes mistress, I want you so much."

"How much?" She grabs your clothed shaft, stroking you slowly, her fingertips dragging over your tip.

"So much!" Seolhyun doesn't let up, making sure you've stained your boxers with precum. She wants to hear you whine and beg. "There's nothing I want to do more than to have you ride me mistress, please ride me!" A tingle goes through her body—she's going to fully indulge herself. Seolhyun throws off her own clothes, moving up your body, to your cock, and then past it.

"Open up." Her knees sink into the bed by your head, and your lips part just as she spreads her own lips for you. The taste of Seolhyun is on your tongue as she drops her hips on your face. Back and forth she grinds her pussy on your face, and you match her movement, pressing your tongue flat on her slit for maximum friction.

"You're doing so good, lover boy..." Seolhyun braces herself on the headboard, humping you like she would hump a pillow. You manage a groan in response to her praise, and it just makes her ride you harder. You look up to see Seolhyun thoroughly enjoying herself, eyes closed, breasts dangling deliciously and rocking in rhythm with her humping. "Eat my pussy, make your mistress cum."

"Mmkay." Seolhyun gasps at your hands suddenly on her ass, squeezing and pulling her down deeper on you. She feels your tongue push in, and you writhe it powerfully inside her, just as Seolhyun begins to writhe as well. She can’t believe you let her do this, sure she’s paying to sit on you, but still! Rarely do her lovers eat her out or even consider it, but here you are, pulling her down on your face, enthusiastic, eager, and skilled.

Oh so fucking skilled! Your tongue seems to swirl around her clit, and the knot in her core gets even tighter.

"Ah... oh my god, I'm going to cum on your tongue!" Her movements become more wild, and a hand goes to your hair, tugging on it urgently. You drift a finger between her cheeks, and even after multiple sessions you still manage to surprise her and help Seolhyun discover more about of herself.

"What, nngh!" She yelps as you rub a circle around her ring, and with a wail she cums on your tongue. You drink her in greedily before she relaxes, small jolts still going through her. Seolhyun slithers down your body and grabs your shaft.

"Do you want to be in your mistress?"

"Yes, please mistress, sit on my cock."

"You don't sound like you really want me on your cock," Seolhyun teases. You lay it on a little thicker, after all she is paying you to do it.

"No I really do mistress, you have the tightest pussy ever, I want to be in it all day if I could. Please let me be in your pussy? I want to feel you wet and tight around me!" It meets Seolhyun's standards, and with a smile she drops herself on you. Seolhyun has to bite her lip to keep from moaning right away—you felt amazing, but she's the dom tonight, she couldn't give the game up just yet.

"H-How does it feel?"

"Better than I thought possible mistress, if you move right away I might just cum, please don't move!" Gently Seolhyun taps your cheek, but you "wince" as if you were slapped.

"No no no, no cumming until I say you do."

"Yes of course, I'll do my best."

"Good boy." Seolhyun captures your lips hungrily, and her hips begin to move up and down. "Good big boy, fuck that's good." You watch her tits bounce some more, and you reach for one, making her moan out loud as you take it in your mouth, teeth lightly grazing her nipple. She slows down her bouncing, and you take advantage of it to play with her chest more, squeezing and tugging what you could before Seolhyun pulls your head back.

"I'm so close, I want you to cum with me okay? Inside me."

"Yes mistress."

Seolhyun returns to kissing you passionately, and she loses herself in the act.

"Say you love me."

"I love you mistress!"

"No! Use my name."

"I love you Seolhyun!" A spike of arousal goes through her, and it all rushes to her head.

"More, keep saying it, please!"

You hug her close, repeating the phrase over and over as Seolhyun rides you more wildly. She begins to murmur her own phrase in return.

"Cum for me, I love you, please cum for me..." Seolhyun's mind is spinning, but she's waiting for you to send her careening off the edge. Her walls clenches around you in time with your throbbing, and it gets faster and faster until you moan softly into her ear, and your hot load all inside her triggers her own climax. Her vision goes white just as her pussy does, and she doesn't hear her own wail of "I love you!" She clings to you hungrily, eager to milk your every drop. Seolhyun purrs happily into your neck as she comes down from her high, and she doesn't see your furrowed brow.

"I think we will have to stop this relationship, Miss Kim." Your words hit her like a ton of bricks, and her mood sinks to the bottom of the harbor like you've tied them to her heart. Miss Kim? She has to find a chair to steady herself against.

"What? Why?"

"I get the impression that you have grown... attached to me, independent of my services. While I do appreciate it as it shows my good work, I believe it is unhealthy to you for us to continue." You finish getting dressed, and you make for the door.

"W-What, why does that matter? If, if someone's addicted to your cock you're going to cut them off? I'll keep paying you!"

"You wanted me to say I love you, you said you loved me when you came, that's not just addiction, that's obsession. You don't know me outside of these sessions." Your grip tightens on the handle.

"So what? I'm sure you're a nice guy! Wait, is this because you have a girlfriend?" That has to be it, right? Seolhyun thinks to herself, trying to reason her way out of it.

"No, this job doesn't allow me to have a girlfriend."

"I-I'll be your girlfriend then! We're compatible in the bedroom, that's a start right?" Seolhyun blushes as she says it—she can't believe she's just throwing herself at you, and yet... she really wanted you!

"I'm physically compatible with everyone, it's my job to be," you state witheringly, does she not get it?

"Fine, either way I don't mind your job."

"Many have said that, it doesn't last beyond the first time I have to cancel or reschedule a date because of a job."

"I don't care!"

"You do, you just don't know it yet." You were done with this conversation. "You are not the first one to feel like this Miss Kim, and I believe this is for the best. I'm a professional fucker, you pay me to fuck, not to be your boyfriend. There are other options if you want that instead, on a dating app, for a start." You push on the handle.

"Wait, how do you know how I feel? I don't actually like you, that's just part of the roleplay!"

"It didn't sound like it."

"What if I say you're wrong?"

"In my experience I don't think so."

"Oh, so now you're a professional at reading emotions, you can tell what I was feeling? I thought you were just a professional fucker." Seolhyun fires back with as much disdain as she could, and you don't have a good answer to that—your other customers would accept your explanation, and you would leave before they could protest otherwise.

"I... That's fair."

"Hah! What if we continue, and if I do anything of that sort again on a session you can stop, and I won't fight it." You ponder for a moment before sighing in defeat.

"Okay, I'll hold you to that Miss Kim."

"Deal, and can't you at least call me Seolhyun? Miss Kim sounds so cold." Seolhyun turns up the charm and aegyo now that she's got her way.

"Of course, my apologies, I'll see you next time then Seolhyun." She lets you out, resisting the urge to give you a goodbye kiss. Now her mind is spinning for a whole different reason—how could she make you see her way, or could she make you fall in love with her? In the meantime she just needed to keep her feelings hidden, even as you would be fucking her, making her climax. It is a tough ask, but eventually Seolhyun arrives at a simple conclusion—she just had to cum hard enough to not even be able to talk, and you would never find out.

*Session #: 11*

*Location: Love hotel*

*Time: Friday at 10 pm*

*Duration: 3 hours*

*Request: Pet play*

*Price: 400,000 Won*

*Clarification: Who is playing the pet?*

*Response: Seolhyun*

You arrive at the chosen love hotel—Seolhyun had picked well, a high-end one that you're not unfamiliar with. You go to the room directly and knock.

"Come in!" This time you're surprised to see Seolhyun all dressed up and ready to go—a frilly purple outfit contrasting the cute little cat ears on top.

"You're early," you comment, surprised and impressed at her readiness.

"No, I just made sure you came by later."

"I appreciate it. Looks like you prepared for this?"

"Yes, I just... need you to put this on for me." Seolhyun blushes as you disappear behind her, a gentle hand brushing her hair aside. A shiver runs through her as you stroke down her neck, admiring her smooth skin. Seolhyun tenses and holds her breath as you bring the leather collar around her neck, fastening it just tight enough and letting it jingle as you release it.

"Thank you... Master."

"Of course, my lovely pet. I'm thirsty, could you get me water?" Seolhyun immediately obeys, pouring a glass for you and handing it to you. She freezes as you stare through her. "Kneel." She drops to her knees, presenting the glass to you subserviently.

"Here master."

"Thank you, good kitten." You rub her fake ears first, before petting her head and running your finger along her real ear. Seolhyun gasps and moans at the firm pressure on her lobe—why does even that feel good with you? You finish the glass of water and hand her the empty glass, and Seolhyun learns quickly—she places the glass on the table before returning to your side, kneeling and awaiting your next order. You hold out a hand.

"Hand." She looks at you questioningly, and you repeat the motion.

"Paw." Seolhyun gets it this time, placing a hand in yours. You run a thumb over the back of her hand, and you rub her cheek, as if rewarding her. She leans into your touch, nuzzling the hand on her face.

"Breast." Seolhyun blushes, but obediently she shuffles closer to you, placing a tit on your hand. Softly she moans as you squeeze one breast, and then the other as you order her to place it in your hand. You rub her head, lightly scratching the top of her scalp, and a numbing, fuzzy, feeling goes straight to Seolhyun's core, spiking her arousal—she didn't have to think, she could leave everything to you.

"Very good kitten, no bra?"

"No master."

"Panties?"

"No panties, master."

"I will check that. Pussy!" Seolhyun stands up and spreads her legs, lowering herself on to your hand. The warm wetness of her heat dampens your palm, and her thighs shake as you rub your hand back and forth. Seolhyun moans as you feel something you were not expecting, and her eyes falter at your gaze, but you'll pursue that later. "Very good, my pet."

"Thank you master."

"Take off my clothes, pet." Seolhyun hurries to comply, two hands urgently unbuttoning your shirt, biting her lip as she strips you. "Use your mouth for my boxers." You hold the band of your underwear for her, and obediently she takes it between her teeth. As she pulls it down your erection pops free—her eyes widen in surprise, and it knocks her in the cheek, but she doesn't let go, and successfully she leaves you naked. Without asking she takes you in her mouth, and Seolhyun yelps as you pull her back firmly.

"You're a cat, cats don't suck, they lick."

"Of course, I'm so sorry master."

"Get to it!" She starts off tentatively, holding your cock in her hands and licking the head, gauging your reaction. You reward her with a scritch on the head, and Seolhyun gets more into it, eventually manipulating your shaft as needed, eager to get her saliva on every inch of your cock. She licks you from base to tip, and you smear her face all over with her own drool. She cups your balls, and with your signal she starts licking them too, grooming them like a good kitten would.

"Take off your top and use your tits." Seolhyun throws away her top in a flash, and soon your shaft is trapped in her cleavage, her hands squeezing her breasts together and moving up and down.

"Like this master?"

"Yes, very good, good kitten, go faster." The drool on your shaft gives her chest a nice sheen, and as she moves faster in the growingly warm hotel room Seolhyun's sweat adds to the erotic view. Without warning you cum, spurting your load over her face and neck. Seolhyun gasps, and some of it enters her mouth too—it just makes her wetter down below.

"Was that good master?"

"Mmhmm, but you look like a mess, clean yourself!"

"I'm sorry master!" Seolhyun searches for tissues, but you grab her offending hand and stop her.

"How does a kitten clean herself?" she hesitates for a moment before wiping the cum off with her hand. Tentatively she then licks your cum clean from her own hand, and with an approving nod she repeats the action several times as your load is mostly wiped from her face.

"Good cat." You gather the little bit she has missed on a finger and hold it out—Seolhyun licks it clean greedily. Her head is fuzzy with arousal, and her now free hands drift between her legs, lightly rubbing herself—she whimpers, and a little bit of slick drips from her fingers on to the floor. It doesn't go unnoticed.

"Does my little kitten need to get off?"

"Yes, please master!"

"You've been a good pet, take off your skirt." Seolhyun stands up and slides them down her long legs, and as she kicks them aside shakily you see something that confirms your suspicions. "Turn around pet." Seolhyun blushes and turns around, revealing the little furry tail she had on her.

"I didn't know my pet had such a nice tail." You tease her with the double entendre, slapping her ass and sending a jolt of pleasure through the butt plug.

"Ah! Thank you master."

"Hold still." Seolhyun hands turn into fists as you play with the tail, gently stroking it like you would a cat's tail. This is her first time with a plug, and she squirms at the foreign but pleasurable sensation.

"Mmm!" She clenches around the toy as you pull harder, as if trying to yank the tail off, but at the last moment you push it back in, and Seolhyun can't help but let out a loud moan. A string of juice falls from her slick slit, pooling on the floor under her. Her thighs jiggle and quiver as you repeat the motion, and Seolhyun feels her legs go weak—she's dangerously close to cumming from anal stimulation alone, something she never knew about herself until now, something she never even considered until you touched her ass last time.

"P-Please master, I'm going to cum."

"I didn't give you permission to. In my lap pet." Seolhyun straddles you, kneeling on the bed as her arms wrap around your neck intimately—until she remembers the conditions of your deal, and she settles for placing her hands on your shoulders instead. "Don't cum until I tell you to."

The next few minutes are delicious torture for Seolhyun. Your hands draw circles on her smooth cheeks, and each squeeze of her ass just makes the plug shift inside her. She braces for the pleasure as you lean in to suck on her breasts once more, but that brace is broken as you slap her butt sharply.

"Ahh! M-Master!" Her ass ripples against your hand as you plant it on her ass with a hearty spank.

"Hold it."

"I-I can't, I can't!" There is a buzzing in Seolhyun's ears, the pleasure making her unable to hear your commands, drowned out in delicious white noise. You're kneading her ass now, making the plug sink into her with the repeated motions. A sharp tug on her hair brings her back around, punishment for getting close to orgasm. I'm so close! She tries to search for your eyes, wanting to plead her case. But her vision is going black, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as you tug at the plug directly, pulling it almost all the way out before pushing it back in quickly, fucking her ass with it. Seolhyun orgasms before she even knows what happened, and she collapses on top of you, wailing out her pleasure directly into your ear.

"You failed." Your stern voice adds an additional aftershock of pleasure to Seolhyun as she pants in your lap.

"N-No master, I didn't cum."

"You lie, your juice on my cock says otherwise." Seolhyun looks down, and your cock is newly erect, covered in a shiny coating of slick. Fuck, you had made her squirt again, and judging by the spray on her own thighs, it wasn't a weak one either.

"I'm sorry master."

"Words are cheap, on all fours." Weakly Seolhyun scrambles to obey, getting off you and on to the bed. "Head down, spread yourself." Without thinking she follows your demand, gasping as she spreads her own cheeks—the plug has sunk deeper into her. Randomly she thinks about her being an idol—she's done similar moves in the past as "choreo", but never like this! How many of her "fans" would pay to see her in this position? Yet here she is, freely spreading her own lips for you—a heavy drop of her juice leaves her pussy and soaks onto the bedsheet. Her fingers are pushed slightly further apart as you place your bulbous head at her entrance.

"Show me how sorry you are, kitten." Seolhyun curves her back and moans as she forces herself on to you, pushing herself backwards on your cock. You stay still, and when Seolhyun hilts you inside her she moves forward slowly, exquisitely feeling your head drag across her walls. She seizes up for a moment when you come into contact with her g-spot, and she immediately chases that pleasure again, making small jerks back and forth, desiring maximum friction. Enraptured, you watch Seolhyun start to fuck herself in front of you, her back flexing, her thighs and ass jiggling, tail bouncing up and down as she rocks herself against you. She begins to lose control, her slick streaming off your shaft.

"Faster." Small whimpers escape her as she does her best to please you, pushing back faster, escalating her own pleasure too.

"M-Master!" You sense Seolhyun's struggling obedience, her walls beginning to contract around you.

"Harder!" you order her, pulling on her hair sharply. Seolhyun shouts, the pain bringing her back a little. It does send a thrill through her still, and you merely raise her threshold for pleasure, making sure she’ll be even more of a mess when she cums. You throw your hips forward once, and Seolhyun moans loudly in surprise before pushing herself back on your cock. Her body is fully engaged, eager to follow your instructions and fuck herself silly. Her back, toned from hours of bouldering, glimmers with sweat, and Seolhyun's groaning and grunting with exertion, balancing between exhaustion and exhilaration. Even with her maximum effort it is not quite enough, and Seolhyun turns back to you, gritting her teeth as she tries to slam herself back on you harder and faster.

"Please master..." You reward her with your own efforts—the smacks between your bodies get louder and louder as you finally get into it, shoving your hips in rhythm with Seolhyun. The groans turn into moans as she let's herself get pushed into the bed, doing her best to bounce back against you, your bodies working in natural carnal harmony. You push against her tail plug with every thrust, and Seolhyun's moans get longer and louder at the double penetration sensation. I'm so close, please master! Unable to put her plea into words, her eyes search frantically for yours, begging for your permission with heavy desire. You nod and grab her tail, pushing it deep into her as it accompanies your thrust.

"Gah!" Seolhyun's eyes widen, her pupils unfocused. She pants, her breath quickening immediately. You grind your cock and twist the plug inside her, and the friction sets off a blaze.

"Fuck meeeee!" She shoves her face into the bed and screams, pushing her ass higher up in the air as she is consumed by ecstasy. She twitches and jerks underneath you, each motion an additional spark of pleasure spreading like wildfire through her nerves. Seolhyun goes weak and collapses on the bed—she can only manage a whimper when her pussy suddenly feels empty, and her low moan accompanies yours as hot cum lands on her body, covering her butt and lower back. She winces and grips the sheets as you slowly pull the tail out—everything is suddenly too much!

"N-No more!"

"You did good pet." You take her collar, unclasping it and removing it from her neck. You blow and kiss the area around it. "We're done Seolhyun."

"P-Please hold me. I need you to hold me." You could have considered that a dealbreaker, and you almost turn down Seolhyun's request there and then, but it seemed like she needed aftercare more than anything. So you cuddle her, letting her nestle in your chest as you settle into the bed. "Tissue please." You reach for them, and you wipe her sweat off as Seolhyun does the same on her lower back, getting rid of your load.

"Too intense?" you ask as she lay against you. For feedback, you tell yourself.

"No, that was perfect. How much time do we have left?" Fifteen minutes, as it turns out. "Do you want to umm, shower together? It'll save time that way." She follows up hastily. You agree, and Seolhyun is nothing but polite as she lets the water and soap run over her before standing to the side and letting you do the same. In fact, you are the one who has to hold it together, your gaze lingering on her nude body more than befitting a "professional" like yourself.

"Thanks again, I'll send the payment shortly." Seolhyun says quietly, bidding you goodbye with a slight bow.

*Session #: 15*

*Location: Seolhyun's place*

*Time: Sunday at 3 pm*

*Duration: 2 hours*

*Request: Do whatever you want*

*Price: 100,000 Won*

"Why is it so cheap this time?" Seolhyun asks as she lets you in. You scratch your head, a little embarrassed.

"It's just an informal thing, but I discount the price if I get to do what I want. Obviously I want to satisfy my customer first, so I don't want to “pressure” them with a cheaper option."

"I mean, if you just ask to do it for free I think you'll get a lot of takers." Seolhyun laughs, and you hold your hands out as if to say "you got me".

"Yes but I don't make money then."

"I better be getting my money's worth then," she teases. She immediately regrets her words when she's suddenly face-to-face with you.

"You will." You wrap your arm around her waist, and Seolhyun has to look away, the blush rising to her cheeks—she can keep her words to herself, but her body will betray her feelings at the first time of asking. She melts into your arms as you lean in to kiss her, and a new thrill goes straight from your lips to her pussy—the thrill of intimacy.

"Close your eyes." Seolhyun's heart flutters just as much as her eyes do. She lets herself be carried to bed, and her heart is now thumping as you wrap a piece of cloth over her eyes. "I want you to just feel me, okay?" She nods automatically without question, and her world immediately shrinks to zero as you place ear plugs in her ear. Blinded and deafened, Seolhyun reacts to the lack of stimulation quickly, her breaths hastening, chest heaving. The sheets suddenly felt rough underneath her—I need a higher thread count! her mind thinks, before jumping to something else, a slight wind she feels on the hairs of her skin, is that you moving? Or no, the bed's sinking a little by her feet, that’s you. Her hair rustles against the pillow, she can hear it in her head—she showered in the morning, she should have showered right before you came, why didn't she—

Devoid of stimuli and left to her own devices Seolhyun's mind runs a million miles an hour, bouncing between her sense of touch and her "sensible" thoughts. She's yanked out of all that with a single domineering touch, of your finger on her cheek. One finger becomes two, then three, then a whole palm, and Seolhyun nuzzles your cheek once more, like a cat eager for attention, like a human eager for sensation. On her other cheek Seolhyun moans at your lips on her skin, and hurriedly she turns to face you.

"Please!" She can barely hear herself, but you hear Seolhyun's plea loud and clear. Her limbs wrap around you needily just like her tongue does, eager for the human connection.

Oh my god, I need you, I need you so much! The thought dominates her desires, all she can feel is you, all she wants is you! She squirms on the bed, eager to sense more of you. Seolhyun's too caught up in her own head to realize it, but she's humping herself up at you, her body eager for touch in her most sensitive of areas. A bolt launches through her as you rub a thigh between her legs, and Seolhyun groans and starts humping you quicker and harder.

"I'M CUMMING ALREADY OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING!" Seolhyun thinks she's intimately grinding on you, whispering and whimpering, but no, she doesn't notice her vocal cords straining as she screams into your ear. All she's focused on is the brilliant enhanced pleasure going straight to her sensory-deprived brain. You force yourself on her lips, to save both your ears and her voice, and Seolhyun shudders violently beneath you. She chases more pleasure, continuing to hump your thigh—one, two, five orgasms fly through her as she loses track of herself. Seolhyun would grind on your thigh indefinitely if you don't pull it away, and even when you do, her body resigns itself to orgasm until the sensations die down.

When it ends Seolhyun flops limply on the bed, the orgasms wiping out her thought process completely. One by one by one her senses slowly reboot. Her touch comes back first—she notices the fabric of her own clothing, why does it feel so heavy? Seolhyun feels you pressed on top of her, and she clings to you once more, her anchor on the world right now. Then her sense of smell returns, and as she sniffs she starts squirming again—her body recognizes the scent of pure arousal and lust, both from herself and you. Finally her sense of tastes comes barging back in—your tongue tastes salty and sweet and sinful and heavenly, and she can't get enough of it!

Watching Seolhyun lose herself turned you on more than she knew, and your urgent hands quickly remove her sweat and juice soaked clothes. Seolhyun begins to quiver again as you pull away from her, both to remove your own clothes and to admire her body. Her skin is flushed red, a sheen of sweat evidence of her own exertions earlier. Her fingers and toes are still curled— she's forgotten to uncurl them, and her body hasn't gotten to relaxing those muscles yet. Her nipples are stiff, her lower lips are puffy, her clit is engorged—Seolhyun has never been more ready for sex.

Seolhyun moans loudly as she feels you skin-to-skin, and she grinds out a scream as you immediately push yourself into her. Suddenly all she can feel is your throbbing cock inside her, urging her to open up. Slowly but surely you part Seolhyun's walls, and in her tense and sensitive state she's drooling and gasping and whining. There is no empty space in her body, and to Seolhyun you feel bigger than ever, as if you would rip her in two if you were any larger. But no, you are just big enough, and Seolhyun's breath catches as her clit hits the base of your shaft—you've devoured Seolhyun with your cock. You try to give her time to adjust, hoping that she would relax a little, but the tightness doesn't go away. Just the act of breathing is giving Seolhyun pleasure, the small movements of your bodies enough to keep her on edge.

You also can't wait any longer.

You start fucking Seolhyun with slow strokes, not wanting to hurt her, but she's so turned on she only knows how to feel pleasure. Her walls are completely covered in slick, and soon they are covered in precum as well as you glide in and out of her rapidly. No matter how much she tightens up or contracts in orgasm, you're able to bury yourself inside her completely, her body fully receptive to yours. You explode inside her, filling her with your load, but she's so tight around you, you might as well still be erect when you come down from your peak.

So you do the only thing your body knows how to do right now—keep going, keep pounding into Seolhyun, half-erect, fully erect, whatever. However you want to fuck Seolhyun, she's ready to be fucked. Soon you and Seolhyun lose track of everything.

“So big, ahh!”

“No, don’t stop, why did you— Ohh you’re cumming, oh fuck I’m gonna cum too...”

“I can’t— nngh making me cum!”

Her world dissolves into one climax after another, with the occasional burst of heat that makes her twist and cry out even louder—she has no idea what it is, it doesn’t even register that you are filling her with cum over and over, but it satisfies her even more all the same.

“So fucking tight Seolhyun!”

“Ugh I’m hard again...”

“Cumming in you... argh!”

The duration of two hours is long over, but you're still pounding into Seolhyun, still pushing her over the infinite edges of pleasure and following her over shortly. You don't even know if you're still actually producing semen, but it didn't matter, you still felt pleasure, and so you still fuck Seolhyun. The earplugs and blindfold has fallen off at some point, but neither of you even notice it—it didn't matter anymore. Who cares for senses when you're chasing yet another incredible high?

At some indeterminate point your body simply stops working, and you collapse on top of Seolhyun. The end to the "festivities" comes to a close, and Seolhyun finally relaxes, releasing her limbs from your body and your cock from her pussy.

"I, can't, move..." she gasps, the soreness and strain from being tense for so long catching up to her. She doesn't even realize she can hear herself clearly.

"Me neither..." Seolhyun tenses painfully again as she realizes she can hear you clearly, and carefully she tries to open her eyes—she wasn't blindfolded!

"I can see!"

"You can? Oh, the blindfold probably fell off sometime." You try to push yourself up and off Seolhyun, but even that proves too much for your body at the moment. "You're stuck with me for a while, I really can't move."

"I don't mind... That was a lot, but wow." Seolhyun's comment hangs in the air, and she blushes at your silence. "Wow in an amazing way, not in a 'I can't believe that's your kink' way."

"Sorry, I just wanted you to cum as hard and as much as possible, and that is one way to do it."

"What? Why? I wanted you to do what you want."

"That is what I want, it gets me off when you completely lose it, no need to think about roleplay or fulfilling requests, just pure desire and hunger." Seolhyun blushes deeper as pieces come back to memory—she doesn't remember much of what happened, just that she wanted to cum, that she couldn't stop cumming, and that she didn't want to stop, and that's exactly what she let herself do.

"Did I do anything embarrassing, it was all a blur." Seolhyun's just praying she didn't say anything that would break the deal.

"No, you were fucking hot, I lost control of myself as well. Normally we wouldn't end up like this, I'm sorry, it won't happen again." Seolhyun raises her hands to your face, helping you turn to face her. She doesn't look unhappy or annoyed, if anything she seemed to be glowing.

"No, I'm glad it happened, you got to do what you really wanted."

"Right, thanks, I guess." You do your best to remain professional.

"Good, now hold me for a little bit more." You're too weak to say no. When you finally manage the strength to roll off her the two of you survey the "damage"—you're both drenched in sweat, your cock is sore, and Seolhyun is absolutely overflowing with cum.

"Fuck I'm so sore too." She winces as she puts a finger in herself, and your load covers her finger quickly. "How much did you put in me..." You hand her tissues as an apology, and she cleans up the mess between her legs somewhat. Even when she stands up you see rivulets of your load leaking out of her.

"It's safe, I take precautions on my end," you remind her lamely, as a reassurance more than anything.

"I know, it's a safe day for me too, just a lot to deal with."

"Right." You watch her hurry to the bathroom, and decide it is time to leave her be. The clock confirms it—you've been with Seolhyun for well over two hours.

"I should go, it's very late."

"You should at least shower, we smell like... well, sex." You open your mouth to refuse, but Seolhyun's look insists that you do. You let her shower first, trying to come up with other reasons on why you should leave now, but as soon as she exits the bathroom she's shoving a towel into your hands and pushing you in. You come out much more refreshed, and you bow to her after getting dressed, slightly abashed.

"We definitely went over time and I apologize for that, I lost track of time. I don't need payment for tonight."

"So tonight doesn't count as a session?" Seolhyun asks, spotting a loophole for herself.

"Yes, if you've already sent me payment I'll consider it credit for next time."

"Got it, well then." You freeze as Seolhyun hugs you tightly from behind. "I really do like you, you know?"

"We've been over this, we'll have to stop—"

"No we don't, this wasn't a session, you said it yourself."

"I mean— Fine, you got me, but I will reiterate, you don't know me, and I don't know you."

"Yes I do, and you know me too, so what if we met as part of your job! What do I have to do to convince you? To at least try to see me as a potential girlfriend now?"

You frown and rub your head, now Seolhyun is giving you a headache. This is not how you wanted things to go, and she's even more attached to you now.

"I don't know, prove to me that you see me as more than a good fuck. I don't know how you would, because frankly, I haven't seen anything from anyone in my job that could make me think like that, but that's what I need to see you as more than another customer."

Your words cut deep into Seolhyun, and she sniffles behind you. "That's all I am to you, after all these sessions, all the time we spent?" Maybe a clean cut is the only way to go.

"That is correct, you pay me to fuck you at these sessions, and I do it, that's all."

"You didn't feel anything with me just now? You said you lost it yourself!"

"You said it didn't count as a session, so no." Seolhyun feels her heart crack, her own words turned against her—why did she think this was a good idea in the first place?

"You're a fucking cold bastard, you know that right?" Now it is her turn to retaliate, and you resist the urge to push her away angrily. You settle for firmly prying her fingers off you, distancing yourself from her.

"That’s right, I am. I... have to be, I'm sorry Miss Kim, good bye." You walk out the door and close it with finality—you did not expect to see her again.

Angry and heartbroken Seolhyun stares at her phone, trying to drill a hole through it with her gaze. Her head tries to come up with a way to prove herself to you; her heart makes her finger twitch, urging her to just delete your number once and for all; her pussy tries to find a way to undo everything, so that you’d at least keep her on as a customer and give her physical satisfaction. One body part wins out in the end.

Weeks later, you receive a message from an unexpected number, one you had yet to delete.

*Session #: 1*

*Location: Cafe of your choice*

*Time: Saturday at 2 pm*

*Duration: However long you want*

*Request: Just want to get to know you, no sex*

You ponder Seolhyun’s request and sigh.

*I have an appointment with another customer then, so I'm afraid that time won't work*

It was a white lie, but you had to test her, had to know she can at least handle the thought before you open up to her.

*That's fine, what about Sunday at the same time*

You release the breath you were holding, smile and text back.

*Price: 0, my treat*

A/N: Somehow in a story full of gratuitous smut I still manage to have a happy ending, argh XD Anyways, I didn’t really want to write AOA generally because their whole scandal was a complete mess, but everyone seems to have moved on from it by now, so... eh I dunno *shrugs*

I was tempted several times to just remove the “l” and make it about Seohyun, but I think ultimately Seolhyun fit the idea I had the best, so hope it works. Thanks for reading!

#smut #seolhyun

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therhythmafterthesummer · 11 months

Text

A Helping Hand (M) ~Seungmin

Pairing: LabHybrid!Seungmin x GN!Reader Themes: Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers | Roommates to Lovers Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Synopsis: After one too many shots of vodka, your best friend confided in you a little problem he’d been dealing with for a couple of months now. Tipsy-you figured that you were more than suitable to give him a helping hand. Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption · overall hybrid shenanigans · Seungmin has a dirty mouth · pet names · Smut (warnings under the cut). let me know if i missed any💜

Author’s Note: can’t believe my first ever published Seungmin fic is a hybrid au lmao. got a weird boost of inspiration for this after seeing @starlostseungmin talking about it, so here it is ! Special thanks to @notastraykid for giving her very valuable input to improve the first draft, as well as @comet-falls for letting me know it didn’t suck skjdfhsdkjf

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: this is, as usual, some monsterfuckery · handjobs · praising · breeding kink (kind of) · hybrid anatomy (knot) · copious amounts of fluids. again, let me know if i missed any

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“You–You don’t have to do this, serious–Oh, God…”

You swallowed, focusing on your best friend’s face. Focusing a bit too much on the vein that popped on his neck when he threw his head back, on how pretty his eyelashes looked when his eyes fluttered shut, on those pouty lips of his you totally didn’t wish you could have on yours… All while trying to ignore what you had between your hands, all while trying to ignore the obscene, squelching sounds their continuous movement produced…

“I said I’d help you, didn’t I, Seungmin?”

Seungmin inhaled deeply. His ears twitched, his tail seemed to have a life of its own, it had started thumping against the headboard of the bed the moment he’d sat down and you’d taken a hold of him.

After opening his eyes again, Seungmin looked at your face, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. “You did”.

“And I always keep my word, don’t I?” You twisted your wrists, never stopping the motions of your hands.

Seungmin sighed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate with the motion. “You do…”

A spark of doubt flared in your mind, large enough it was impossible to ignore. Your hands stopped, and the tiniest whine left Seungmin’s mouth. “Unless you… Are you feeling uncomfortable? I can– I can stop”.

Seungmin’s hands flew to your wrists, preventing you from pulling away completely. “No. No, no, please, don’t… I… Fuck, I really want this. I really, really need this”.

You would’ve never expected the afternoon to take you here… To your best friend’s bedroom, to him sitting on his bed, with his back against the headboard, and with his legs spread. You would’ve never expected to have his cock in your hands, barely even out of his lounge shorts. In your mind, this had never been a real, genuine possibility. Yet here you were.

How long had it been since you realised you had a crush on your best friend? Too long, probably. It might’ve been a bit embarrassing, but you truly couldn’t even remember a time when you weren’t pining over him, a time when you weren’t thinking how it would be like to be with him physically, intimately…

Although, to be fair, this situation was far more sterile than all those fantasies you’d allowed your mind to wander into only in the wee hours of the night. It wasn’t as if Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you, or you to him. It was more like… like you were giving your friend a hand–literally and figuratively.

Seungmin was a hybrid. A black labrador hybrid, to be exact. He’d been your best friend since you were a kid, when the school you attended finally started allowing hybrids as students. You could still remember the first day you saw him, standing in a corner by the lockers. You’d approached him, mostly because your mother had taught you that hybrids must be treated well, just like you’d treat anyone else.

He was a shy boy, totally out of character for a lab hybrid, but the more you got to know him, the more he warmed up to you, the more you started to see that bright personality of his. As soon as he’d deemed you trustworthy, it was almost like that shyness had never been there in the first place.

He started to come over to your place to hang out or do homework, to open up about his life, and even to show more of his mischievous side. He’d call you everything from dumb dumb, to human kiddo, to little human, just because he could. But it was fine.

Even if at the beginning it annoyed you that he simply wouldn’t call you by your name, it eventually became such a Seungmin thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him when his eyes sparkled so brightly whenever he used his little nicknames for you.

Seungmin was chaotic, he was funny, and he was the most loyal friend you’d ever had. He’d been with you through thick and thin. Every broken friendship and relationship, he was always there to console you, to hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright. He was always there for you, without fail. He’d always joke around and say it was one of his lab traits, but you knew better.

Whether he was a hybrid or not, you knew Seungmin would still be the same Seungmin.

Your Seungmin.

A couple of years ago, you finally got to move out of your parents’ house. It was only natural that you ended up renting a place with your best friend, considering he, too, wanted to move out, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of living with strangers.

Decades had passed since hybrids were integrated into human society. They finally had rights, they were treated as people and not some pet you bought from a store–no disrespect to pets, they had their rights, too. But pets weren’t people. Hybrids, on the other hand, were.

Hybrids had free will, they could reason like humans could, and they certainly deserved to be treated as equals. These were the values that you’d been taught as you grew up, and it was something you believed in still to this day.

Regardless, hybrids still had their animal urges and needs, which Seungmin seemed to have been struggling with for a couple of months now.

The confession happened last night, while you both threw a tennis ball back and forth at each other, after one too many shots of vodka–to be more precise, it’d been three. Three shots of vodka only.

Alcohol wasn’t deadly toxic to Seungmin like it was to other hybrids, but his body certainly couldn’t digest it very well, which usually manifested not only in the flush that spread all over his face, but also by shutting down every single one of his filters. ‘I haven’t been able to come in two fucking months. Two months! I feel like I’m dying, dude. I just need to blow’.

You’d asked him how that was even possible, how he had not managed to bring himself to orgasm in two months, considering you knew he was a person with a moderate sex drive–based on the amount of times you had to stay in your shared flat while he had company over… His answer was a very graceful ‘The fuck if i know… Nothing works, my dearest little human. Porn doesn’t work. Literature doesn’t work. And my imagination clearly doesn’t work, either’.

He looked genuinely distressed about it, especially when he sighed, and his tone lowered. ‘I’ve been checking forums online… Going anonymous to ask strangers, specifically other hybrids, but most of them said that I needed to find the root cause, that something in my environment could be affecting my physical performance, but it’s… It’s really frustrating, because I genuinely have no idea what’s going on’.

‘Have you tried, I don’t know, getting laid?’ was what your tipsy self asked. You wouldn’t have asked that question fully sober for sure. You really didn’t want to know if Seungmin was out there getting laid these days. It had been a little over a year since you had seen him date anyone, and the thought of him dating someone now, admittedly, made you jealous. Which was potentially very stupid on your part considering you were just friends. The best of friends. Only friends.

‘Nah. Can you imagine if I’m with someone and I can’t fucking come? Distress… Besides, I don’t want to just… You know, do it with a random person. People are kinda… ew’. You could understand completely why he wouldn’t want to go out and hook up with a stranger. After all, some people still saw hybrids as sex slaves, or they were heavily fetishised, so it wasn’t exactly safe to partake in one night stands for him.

Besides, your best friend was not one for hookups and one night stands in the first place. He had trust issues, especially with humans, so you could definitely understand his predicament.

‘What if it’s someone you know?’ You threw the ball back at him just as you’d boldly asked the question, because spirits always made you voice things sober you would never have the guts to say.

Seungmin caught the ball and scoffed, completely sure that no one he knew would want to be that intimate with him, and not think ill of him if he didn’t manage to perform.

But you had to open your big mouth again, very confidently telling him ‘And what about me? I can do it’.

The ball suddenly fell from Seungmin’s hand, landing on the floor and rolling under the coffee table. His eyes followed the movement like a hawk–or, maybe it’d be more accurate to say like a dog. He stretched his body a bit out of the sofa, not even bothering to stand up fully, trying to get the ball while he chuckled, maybe a bit nervously.

Seungmin genuinely thought you were joking for a second. That was exactly what he’d told you, but then he saw how serious you were about it, and, after a few minutes of silence, he simply said that you should have this conversation sober.

Which you did.

Which took you right here, right into his room, with his painfully hard cock in your hands.

Seungmin knew you wouldn’t judge him if he couldn’t come. He trusted you enough to be vulnerable with you in more ways than one, to tell you what he needed or wanted, so you would gladly help him–the fact that you had a major crush on him made you feel a bit self-conscious, you’d admit… Like you were taking advantage of the situation to touch him this intimately. But you had already offered it, and he had already accepted it, so you just didn’t feel like backing down on your word.

“Tighten your grip a bit more”, Seungmin mumbled, and once again he threw his head back when you did as asked and continued working his cock. “Fuck, yeah. That’s it…”

You were starting to heat up yourself. Especially whenever he spoke like that, with the tone of his voice as low as it was. Seungmin was one to swear a lot, very openly, but in this context, it certainly felt… filthier. And it affected you. Maybe embarrassingly so…

You couldn’t help but swear under your breath when your eyes drifted from his face to his length. How could you not look? When he was there, letting you touch him…

Clear fluid leaked from his tip, dripping all over your fingers and aiding your movement, intensifying those sinful wet sounds that resonated in your ears with each stroke. You knew his specific breed tended to produce more fluids than a human would, he’d told you this before in passing, but you had honestly not expected it to be this much.

Seungmin didn’t seem fazed at his slick soiling his clothes. On the contrary, it seemed like he didn’t even care at all.

“Like what you see?”

Your head snapped upwards to meet his eyes, and you immediately felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard not to look, but…” You suddenly felt small under his gaze, even if your hands didn’t stop. His eyes were so dark, staring right into yours so intensely the hairs at your nape stood on end.

Seungmin always tried not to look people in the eyes, ‘It activates this primal instinct in me, it’s a bit annoying sometimes, to be honest. I only make eye contact when… when I… Well, you know…’ He’d said once, very vaguely, but even back then, you understood.

He didn’t need to tell you in which situation he enjoyed eye contact. Whenever you looked him in the eyes, you always felt trapped under his gaze, like you wanted to submit. And, somehow, it also woke the butterflies in your belly. Right now, that feeling seemed to have heightened tenfold.

“You’re trying not to look, but…?” Seungmin licked his lips, reaching forward to take a hold of your forearm. Not to stop you, but simply to drag his thumb over your skin in soothing motions.

“But…” You swallowed. You figured now was as good a time as any to let the thoughts out of your head, otherwise they would haunt you forever. “You’re so big”.

Seungmin giggled, a sound that he hardly ever let anyone outside of his close friend group hear, the flush on his face deepened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adorable, even in this context… “You think I’m big?”

“Haven’t touched someone this big ever”, your pace was still slow, but you made sure to stroke as much of him as you could, as tight as he had asked you to. It wasn’t like he was crazy big, he wasn’t particularly long, but he was just… girthy. Girthier than you had ever seen in your pathetic excuse for a love life. “Not only that, but… It’s just… pretty”.

At that, Seungmin looked genuinely incredulous. “Pretty?”

“Mm… pretty”.

He was going to speak, but before he could, your movements sped up, and the whine that left his mouth as soon as you did had your insides instantly firing up. It was a completely involuntary reaction, how could your body not react when the sounds coming out of his mouth were this sinful? When the almost canine whines stirred the butterflies flying freely in your belly?

“Oh, fuck… That’s it, baby, just like that, shit…”

You didn’t even acknowledge the pet name that just escaped his lips. You were convinced it was a heat of the moment thing, so you swallowed that saliva that had suddenly pooled in your mouth, and continued to focus on your motions.

With both of your hands, you went from the base to the head a few times, until you settled one of your hands at the base and the other at the tip. You had heard that the base of a canine hybrid’s cock was sensitive, not as much as the head, but much more than a human’s would be, and Seungmin’s wagging tail and content sighs proved that to be true.

You made sure to pull the foreskin with you when you pumped his head, and your eyes naturally drifted to the sight again. Pretty, indeed…

“You’re so fucking good at this, fuck…” Seungmin’s head was tilted back against the headboard, but he was still looking at you through his lashes. His chest rose and fell with his laboured breathing, he was essentially panting, his tongue poked out from between his lips, and the movement of his thumb on your forearm had long since stopped. He was now just gripping your arm, lightly digging his fingers on your skin.

“You think so?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you definitely wanted to hear more of his praise. It fed a pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach that you just knew you’d have to deal with as soon as you were on your own and away from his prying eyes…

“Fuck, yeah… You’re so good to me, so…” His words trailed off, stopped when he swallowed thickly.

You wanted him to continue what he was going to say, you almost asked him to, but before you could, he spoke again–with an edge of desperation in his voice that almost made you faint.

“Squeeze a bit harder at the base”, so you did, twisting your wrist as you went up and down, and the loud moan that fell from his mouth made you dizzy with need. “That’s it, keep doing that, fuck…”

You worked his cock for a while, all as words of appreciation continued to fly past his lips, all as his slick kept dripping all over your fingers, as he directed more pet names your way. Until something started to feel different…

“Oh, oh, fuck… Fuck, shit, don’t stop, baby, please, don’t…”

You wouldn’t have dared stop, not when your fingers suddenly weren’t able to touch where you held him. You kept the motions on the head of his cock, but the base seemed to be swelling under your grasp, loosening it a bit.

“No, no, don’t stop there. Squeeze it. Keep touching it, pup”, Seungmin pleaded, tightening his grip on your arm while small whines escaped his throat, almost drowned by the sound of his tail thumping against the headboard.

“Oh, my God…” You knew hybrids were anatomically different to humans, but you had never really considered just how much they could be, so it really took you by surprise.

You were experiencing one of Seungmin’s hybrid attributes first hand. There, at the base of his cock, a knot was quickly swelling, and you would’ve never expected how much the sight and feel of it could affect you. Your mind raced, suddenly curious as to how it would feel like if he were pushing his cock into your warmth, how he would stretch you out to your absolute limits…

Seungmin might’ve been the hybrid here, but you were certainly salivating at the feel of his swollen knot in your hands.

Tightening your grip around his knot, you started massaging it, just as you pumped his head faster, coaxing a string of groans and moans and swears to come out of Seungmin’s mouth.

“Your hands… They’re so soft, so… perfect. That’s perfect, pup, you’re doing so fucking well”.

Seungmin was talking to you like you weren’t the one working him up. It would’ve amused you, had it not been feeding the fire that was burning bright deep within yourself.

You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin, drenched in your own fluids because of Seungmin, and the sounds he was making, and his heavy cock under your hands, and that fucking knot of his…

“Seungmin… Shit, you… This…” Being honest, you were speechless.

“What? Huh?” Seungmin finally let go of your arm, instead he cupped your cheek, making you look at him, just as he started to thrust up into your fists. “I know what you want to tell me. Or, at least, I think I do, fuck… I can hear how fast your heart is beating, pup. I can smell it all, you know? I wanna know what you’re thinking. Tell me”.

You licked your lips, staring into his eyes. You were sure your face couldn’t be any warmer, yet the heat seemed to spread further the longer you looked at him, the faster you moved your hands and he thrusted into your grip.

“I’m… Fuck, I can’t help but think how it would feel like inside me, stretching me open…”

“Oh, shit–” Seungmin threw his head back. His tail thrashed against the headboard, and his ears were twitching nonstop. “I can–Fuck, baby, I can give it to you. Whatever you want, just say it and I’ll give it to you”.

With your lower lip trapped between your teeth, you took in a deep breath, almost shivering when Seungmin pulled his shirt up to reveal his torso just as he mumbled the most desperate “Close, so fucking close, puppy. Don’t you dare fucking stop. Tell me–tell me more…”

“I want… want your knot… I want you, Seungmin. So much, so, so much. Need you”, you emphasised each statement with a tighter squeeze to the swollen base of his length.

“Oh, fuck!”

With a few more thrusts of his hips, and a few more twists of your wrists, Seungmin gave you a quick warning, only for your name to fly past his lips, and explode seconds after. Thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting his torso in the creamy substance and dripping all over your hands. It was so much cum, more than you had ever seen anyone ever produce.

The sounds coming out of his mouth were absolutely pornographic, they entered your ears and shot straight to your aching, needy insides. Needy for Seungmin, for his knot, and his everything.

You kept working his cock, pumping the tip to make sure every drop of his cum came out, squeezing and stroking his knot through it all. Until Seungmin’s body slumped against the headboard.

The movement of your hands stopped, but you didn’t remove them. The sight was straight out of a wet dream, his torso, his shirt, his shorts, your hands, everything was covered in cum, and you suddenly had the urge to taste it. But you begrudgingly resisted that urge, this was probably not the moment for that.

When you finally looked away from the mess, your eyes found Seungmin’s. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breaths, his lips were slightly parted as he gasped for air, and he was looking so deeply into your eyes you simply couldn’t look away.

You weren’t sure who moved first, maybe it was you, or maybe it was him… Or maybe, it had been both.

Before you knew it, Seungmin’s soft, moist lips were on yours, kissing you like a starved man. And you retaliated, of course. You kissed him with the same enthusiasm he had, licking his bottom lip to get your tongue inside his mouth, and very quickly, you started to feel lightheaded.

Kissing Seungmin was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Hearing him and seeing him come was a transcendental experience, and you were sure that your brain chemistry had just been altered forever. How could you ever go back to anyone else after this?

The kiss was messy, sloppy, tongues intertwining and teeth sinking on soft skin, producing wet noises all around. You would’ve honestly loved to stay there forever, kissing him, with his length in your hands and his cum all over your fingers. Unfortunately, though, you needed to breathe, so you finally disconnected your lips from his, and took a deep breath.

Seungmin looked into your eyes, and you looked right back. They were still dark, still alluring, but there was something else, something softer… Maybe more vulnerable. The stare-off lasted for a few moments, a few moments spent in silence, until you both broke into a fit of laughter.

Seungmin was practically glowing, he looked possibly the most handsome you’d ever seen him. Even when he was covering the lower part of his face with his hand while he laughed, trying to hide that pretty smile of his after years and years of insecurities produced by the now long since removed braces on his teeth, you still found him incredibly handsome and adorable.

“I take it you enjoyed it? You must have. Look at this mess you made”, there was a teasing smile on your lips, but the truth was, you genuinely wanted to know.

“As much as you enjoyed, it seems”, Seungmin scoffed, and he gestured between your bodies, where you were still holding his cock. He was still just as hard as he was before he came.

“You’re still hard?” You couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice, nor the way your eyes widened at the sight, and it made Seungmin smirk immediately.

“Baby, I’m a dog. My cock thinks it should be inside someone right now, keeping all my cum contained with my knot. Of course I’m still hard, it wants to breed”.

“To… to breed?” Your voice was airy, shaky, suddenly unable to contain the feeling of pure arousal you felt coursing through your veins.

“Mm… to breed”, Seungmin repeated, and he bit his lip when you started to gently squeeze and caress his knot.

He detached himself from the headboard just enough so he could pull his shirt off. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. His gaze softened further, and he brought his hands to your cheeks so he could softly caress the skin with his thumbs. “Thank you. Fuck, I'm so grateful right now. That felt so good”.

“Oh, please… It was my pleasure”, you chuckled, finally letting go of the head of his cock so both of your hands could focus on giving attention to his knot, hopefully helping relieve any possible discomfort he might be feeling since it was out in the open, unable to fulfil its purpose.

The motions clearly made Seungmin’s blush deepen. He looked at you for a few bated breaths, and before you could even understand what was happening, you were on your back, gasping in surprise.

Taking his discarded shirt, Seungmin knelt on the bed, right between your legs, and he cleaned your hands, as well as his torso of as much of his cum as he could.

“Your pleasure, pretty human, hasn’t even started yet. Let me make you feel as good as you just made me feel”.

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General Masterlist

#stray kids hybrid au #seungmin smut #seungmin fluff #seungmin fanfiction #seungmin fic #seungmin x reader #neverendingdreams #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #hybrid seungmin #✨🌙✏

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