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#but to save money they only hire one person
daughter-of-sapph0 · 11 months
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capitalism is a failure of a system and need to be completely abolished
>store says they're hiring
>50 people apply
>30 don't hear back from them
>19 get told they "don't meet the qualifications"
>one single person gets hired
>store gives them way to much work for one person
>new employee says that they need to hire more people
>"what are you talking about? we have enough people working in your department"
>but no you actually don't. you have one single person working at a time. I only work mornings, every single morning. other guy only works afternoons, every single afternoon. what happens when one of us is sick?
>also, what if I'm busy with something else like stocking, and a customer needs my help? what then? you're asking me to work five people's jobs at once. so either pay me five times my salary or hire four other people
>"no. you're fired"
mfw
>go to that store later to buy something
>no one is working at the department I worked at
>end up waiting 40 minutes to buy something
>don't blame the cashier. he was pulled away to do something else. it's the bosses fault for not hiring more people
>as I leave there are "we're hiring" signs plastered all over the door
what a fucking load of massive bull shit
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quickhacked · 3 months
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speaking of darkwater creek in addition to specsweepers (spectre sweepers) and ghost guys inc (paranormal investigators who help identifying ghosts) we now also have spiritboxers (investigators who will only try to communicate with the ghost through spirit box and do absolutely nothing else)
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princesscedar · 9 months
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youraverageaemondsimp · 7 months
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“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞
MDNI
WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread
WC: 7.1k (yeah...)
« part two // 🎄 special »
Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.
You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.
You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.
But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.
And that's when you saw it.
“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?
You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.
“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.
“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.
“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.
“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.
“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.
You were fucking shaking.
It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.
Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.
You just turned 21, recently.
‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.
He wasn't that old himself, barely 30
He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.
He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.
Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.
She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.
But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.
He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.
His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.
But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.
Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.
When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.
You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.
“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.
Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.
“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.
He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.
“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.
He was fucking lying.
But you didn't know that.
The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.
“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.
“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.
And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.
Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.
And with a handshake, he accepted you.
You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.
It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.
It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.
You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.
“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.
He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.
Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question
“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly
“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.
“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.
Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.
“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.
It was fucking big.
Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.
You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.
He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.
“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.
“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.
“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.
Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.
And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.
You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.
You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes
“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.
He was crying in his sleep.
Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.
He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.
“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.
Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.
“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.
You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.
You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done
But you were only trying to comfort him.
Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.
“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.
“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.
“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.
“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.
“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.
“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.
“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.
“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.
It was a spam call.
But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.
But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.
The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.
It was so perfect.
Almost as if you were made for that.
Aemond felt his heart flutter.
For the first time in years.
He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.
Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.
You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.
You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.
You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.
“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.
You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.
Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.
You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.
Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.
Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge
And soon it would push him off it.
Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.
“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.
“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.
“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.
“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.
Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.
And Aemond had lost his resolve.
He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.
“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.
Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.
“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”
“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.
“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.
The water heater wasn't broken.
He was lying.
And you believed him.
He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.
He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.
He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.
And then you opened it.
His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.
He snapped.
He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.
He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.
You should refuse this.
You should push him away.
But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.
He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.
He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.
One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.
He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.
And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.
He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.
Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.
He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.
He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.
He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.
Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.
Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.
“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.
You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.
His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.
“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.
You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.
He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.
He was still hard.
So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.
He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.
“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.
“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans
“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.
He clicks his tongue
“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.
He finishes too, inside you again.
You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.
“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.
“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.
“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.
“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.
Silence falls between you two.
A comfortable silence.
He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.
You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.
“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.
“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.
You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.
You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.
He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.
You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.
He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.
You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.
You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.
“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.
“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.
“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.
You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.
“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.
Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.
Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.
There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.
“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.
“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs
Oh gods.
Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.
“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.
You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.
He smirks.
Oh fuck.
You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.
“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.
“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.
He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.
His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.
“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.
“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.
You nod and follow him to the front door.
“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.
“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.
He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.
And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.
Oh seven hells.
———
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fratboykate · 1 year
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I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.
people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.
5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:
10% to our agent
10% to our manager
5% to our entertainment attorney
5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)
most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.
you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.
lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.
this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.
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they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)
support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.
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ozzgin · 2 months
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Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader
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As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!
Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’
[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]
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There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.
Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.
You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.
“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”
“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”
“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.
The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.
“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”
“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”
His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.
“Perfect match.”
“Excuse me?”
He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.
Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.
“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”
The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.
A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.
“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.
The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.
“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.
“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”
A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.
“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.
“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”
Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.
“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.
He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.
“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”
For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.
“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”
“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.
You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:
“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”
Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.
“Who’s a buffoon?”
The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.
“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.
“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”
As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:
“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”
“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”
“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”
Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.
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littlegalerion · 1 year
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#eso#elder scrolls online#the fact it tool this to make me realize why the past two dlc add ons have been free#to sell the chapter...you only got the rewards if you got the chapter so the chapter sold...#so its a not a matter of worrying if the chapter will sell at launch because its okay of it fails#we can quickly fix up the dlc and add hooks to malnipulate people into buying it later#even though theyre silencing comments Im glad the community is being more outspoken#if we dont shut up i want to believe we can have a good game again#personally...i think when the original loremaster retired the new team got nervous and thus has tried to play it safe with greymoor#and that crashed and burned and has made the recovery horrible#blackwood was fantastic but thw trust was broken and a lot of players didnt want to put the same amount of money and energy into the#new chapter because greymoor was HYPED like crazy and so the let down was soul crushing#made worse by them totally disconnecting to anyone who didnt agree or praise the chapter#which led to infandom tension between people who liked it and who didnt#the devs just made a huge mistake and its still costing them and they arent doing themselves any favors#spending money for advertising and big names for voice acting wont save you it only wastes money#money that could be spent towards hiring in maybe new blood with new ideas#the game was good before because it didnt care about pissing off the main core tes community it just went WILD with its content#and we loved it#keep being outspoken like this#i want a stable fun game back with promising new chapters and dlc#im not giving up
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txt-trash · 9 months
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clever girl | choi soobin
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summary: you’ve only ever viewed choi soobin as your rival in school. he was cute and sweet at times but for the most part he usually acted cold toward you—or at least tried to. out of nowhere you hear about his grades dropping and in an effort to save your only motivation to push yourself harder, you accept his persistent offer to tutor him. you quickly learn he had an ulterior motive to always get you to spend time with him and despite how mean you think you might be, Soobin loved it.
➣ college au, smüt, fluff, enemies to lovers [but it’s one-sided]
➣ academic rival!soobin x f!reader [she/her, afab]
➣ 13.8k words
warnings: smut. oc is kinda mean to soobin. soft jealousy scenes. soobin asks oc to tutor him. really clingy. super cute. the smut is… nashty lowkey. heavy on foreplay. oral [both receiving]. handjöb. oc sits on his face. virgin soobin/experienced oc. oc gets jealous at times too. oc is kinda possessive. sub/dom themes but I swear soobin is a switch. breastplay. missionary. no condom. a lot of plot. multiple orgasm. soobin got that cream im sorry. soobin is a known perv. oc got big boobs. soobin is very obviously a boob guy. oc is lowkey dom, aftercare bc soobin cries. oc calls him a perv, dirty talk. soobin is best boy but also brattiest boy.
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You never considered yourself a particularly smart person. You weren’t gifted — as teachers would say — but you weren’t dumb either. You rode the fine line of somewhere in between but you also studied your ass off to get good grades so you could get a scholarship to the college of your dreams. It’s for that reason specifically that Choi Soobin drives you absolutely insane.
You’ve known him for two years but not close enough to consider him a friend. If anything you consider him the opposite of a friend. For the past two years he’s been your number one contender in class. He’s really smart, like book smart but lately he’s been plummeting his grades and that only seems to piss you off more. He’s the reason why you would push yourself so hard to be number one but now that he’s barely trying it’s not as fun. You’re a competitive person.
So, when he approached you today asking you if you could please tutor him you seriously stopped to think about it. If you tutored him then you could possibly have your competition back but tutoring him would also mean having to help him and he did not need your help. You knew he was smart enough to learn things on his own and he’s just in some sort of stump.
“Why don’t you hire one of those expensive tutors I know you can afford?” You asked him after pondering on it for damn near two minutes. You stood just outside the library where he had practically ambushed you before you could make it inside the building.
Soobin was one of those rich guys you weren’t so fond of. He had money, he didn’t have to work hard to get good grades and he could afford to go to any school he wants to while you have to work double as hard to do anything. Or course it’s not his fault but for him to ask you to tutor him when you know for a fact he doesn’t need you to just really bothers you.
He looked a bit lost by what you said, looking a bit bored like you’re the one holding him up instead of the other way around, “I don’t know, I figured you could help me out since we’re in the same major.”
You huffed out in annoyance, “Am I going to get paid?”
His eyes widened just slightly but you couldn’t if he was in surprise or in disbelief, “I guess, however much you want, I need the help.”
A small sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes, “No you don’t, but whatever, if you pay me, I’ll think about it.”
“Can I get your number then?” Soobin asked, already taking his phone out. You didn’t say anything as you typed in your number and before he could say anything else, you left for the library.
He watched you leave without a smile on his face, keeping up his unamused act until you turned your back to him and his lips couldn’t help but curl up in a smile. Soobin knows it’s a bit weird for him to ask you to tutor him. You’re just one year younger than him but you take most of the same classes so he figured you were his best option.
And also… maybe he dropped his grades on purpose to have an excuse to talk to you but that’s something he’ll never admit to your face.
It all started two years ago. He had already been in school for a year or so and he was just soaring by. You were right when you said he could just hire some expensive tutor to help him but he never really needed it. He was book smart even though sometimes he lacked common sense in the real world. Growing up he had it all, tutors, piano lessons, private schooling, et cetera. He was a smart kid all the way until his third year of University.
Well… he’s still smart but things are different now. He’s spent the last two years practically racing you in classes you shared to do better like that would impress you but it didn’t work. Then, he tried being cold to you like you were to him but he could never do it right. It only seemed to push you away and after a while he realized the only reason why he did it was because he wanted to get a rise out of you. You just won’t notice him no matter how hard he tries to get you to and if this is the only way he’ll get you to talk to him more then he’s going to do it.
“So, did it work?” Kai asked, walking up behind Soobin and scaring the life out of him. Soobin released a loud yell that heads turning in his direction but he barely notice as he whipped around to face his friend, “Did what work?”
“Your little scheme to get Y/n to talk to you,” Kai said as he walked toward the library with Soobin on his tail, “What scheme?”
Kai stopped and gave him that look that told Soobin the gig was up, “You’ve been working on this for weeks now, you think I wouldn’t notice? You used to tutor me and now you’re saying you need to get tutored by the one person who seems to want nothing to do with you?”
Soobin cut in front of him to reach the door first as he swung it open, “No clue what you’re talking about. I’ve been struggling in class lately, probably stress over the internship this summer.”
“Right…” Kai rolled his eyes following his friend into the library, “Or the stress of getting ignored by Y/n no matter how hard you try. It’s been two years, pack it up already.”
“How do you know Y/n ignores me?” He asked getting into the elevator with his friend to get to the next level where more computers and desks were. Kai shrugs, “I mean it’s pretty obvious.”
It took days for you to get back to him and he waited anxiously to see what you would say. He didn’t want to blow up your phone because he had a cold image to uphold but every time his phone dinged he checked if it was you. By the third day he had almost given up hope until the simple text you sent nearly made him burst into a million fireworks.
you: meet me outside the library tomorrow
He got there earlier than intended but he acted like he didn’t. He had done at least two laps around the tall building just waiting for you to arrive and when you did, you said nothing to him. You only walked into the building and headed straight to the elevators like he wasn’t even there.
“It’s raining.”
Jesus Christ.
So stupid, Soobin thought as he turned away from you. This is what happens when he tries to make small talk with someone who sort of hates him. He still doesn’t get why you don’t like him much but he assumes it has something to do with your grades. You’re both art majors and have to take similar prerequisites so you see each other a lot. You’re both also at the top of the department and practically battling for the same summer internship so he thought taking a step back might’ve made you happier but it seemed to have the opposite effect.
You looked at him for a second and when he wondered if you would say something you just looked back down at your phone like he wasn’t even there. This elevator ride felt like it would never end. He knows it’s only been a few seconds but it feels so suffocating.
“Did you change up your hair? It looks good,” he said cautiously and you finally looked at him again. He didn’t expect a thank you or anything but maybe a smile.
All he got was; “Why are you talking to me?”
“It was like this last time we talked,” you finally said and looked forward again.
The elevator dinged and he released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in until he was off. The two of you walked down the hall with you a couple paces ahead of him in complete silence.
Suddenly you turned around to face him as he stumbled back a step in surprise when you said, “I like the black hair, it’s different from the blonde.”
He absentmindedly touched his hair as a smile grew on his face, “Thank you.”
Your brows furrowed, surprised that he was even smiling at you. Usually he acts just as cold to you as you do to him and that’s why you barely acknowledge him nowadays. You knew he wasn’t a bad guy but he always had a smug face when he came out on top in class and it drove you insane. He would even laugh sometimes when you would stumble over your words during a presentation and make fun of you, not even caring if you heard or not.
Of course you didn’t know he was giggling because he found you so cute even when you made mistakes.
Soobin happily followed you to an empty table, just happy to be there and ignored the hand you had outstretched to motion for him to sit across from you just so he could sit next to you instead.
You just looked at him unamused as his smile dropped, “What? How am I supposed to see what we’re doing if I’m sitting all the way over there?”
You released a sigh, “Alright, did you bring your last exam?”
Soobin nodded his head, reaching into his huge backpack to retrieve his laptop and work. He quickly opened his laptop and got onto the school website app to find his most recent Psychology exam. He knew you were in that class too even if you took it at different times [he only signed up because of you and got the time wrong].
You looked at his laptop where a fat 65/100 score was typed in red that made you gasp, “Soobin?! How?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered, “I’ve been stressed, can’t pay attention well.”
Soobin was looking at you with soft eyes, unable to help himself from looking over what you wore today. He hasn’t seen you all day aJust as you opened your mouth to scold him, a high pitched feminine voice cut you off, “Binnie?”
You both turned in your seats, a cute brunette with hair just above her shoulders dressed in a cute coquette style smiled at him sweetly, “I thought I recognized you.”
You knew her well too, you used to call her Soobin’s little sidekick in a class you shared last semester. She always followed him around complimenting him over every little thing he did and laughing at all his jokes, even the ones that weren’t funny.
“Hi Jia,” Soobin said as he looked back down at his laptop. Jia smiled before sliding her gaze over to you, “Hi Y/n.”
“Hey.”
She cleared her throat, “So, Soobin, good thing I found you, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’re free any time soon.”
“Um,” Soobin look at you, “For what?”
“Oh!” Jia blushed, “Um, I’ve been having software problems and I know you’re a game wizard so I figured you might know how to fix it.”
She already had her laptop out and you watched as she pulled up a chair from a different table to sit on his other side and he looked just as taken back to be sandwiched between the two of you now. Soobin didn’t say anything as he took her laptop once she showed him what’s wrong and he hurried to fix it. His lips were parted in concentration yet his dimples still showed and you couldn’t help but look at him over. You never once thought Soobin was ugly, he had to be one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen but you would never even think about it. If anything it’s a bit too late to imagine you and Soobin being anything more than rivals or even tutor and student. It would just be too much.
She smiled leaning into him, "Thanks, it's like you're the only one who knows how to fix it."
"Then you should probably learn how to do it yourself for when he’s not around," you responded out of the blue, flashing Jia a tight smile, "I could teach you but it's just a troubleshooting problem and it doesn’t take a brainiac to figure that out."
"I'd rather have Soobin teach me," Jia smiled looking back at Soobin who looked down at his own laptop to hide the fact that he was furiously blushing at how snappy you sounded. You smiled watching him ignore her, the jealous immature side happy he's not giving her much attention but you couldn’t understand why.
“You hear that Soobin?" You asked, nudging him with your knee, he released a breath stopping what he was doing and waiting for you to talk. Just like that, he didn't ignore you at this moment. "Jia wants you to teach her how to fix her own laptop, she’s taking advantage of your kindness, y’know."
Jia went to argue but the damage had been done. Soobin wouldn’t disagree with you, maybe you were right. He did always get bothered by all the girls who asked him to help them with something and he always felt bad saying no. In the end, half of the girls would use it to flirt with him and compliment him every chance they had and it made him uncomfortable.
Even if what you had said was a bit of a lie and probably more beneficial to you than him, Soobin was on your side — even if you sounded a bit mean, "Sorry I'm too busy but if you take it to the tech lab I'm sure they'll help you."
"He's too busy," you repeated smugly looking up at her again. You’re telling "Oh, I understand," Jia sighed, "Soobin are you doing anything? Maybe we can meet up and do some work."
You couldn’t help but scoff, Soobin immediately looked at you as you moved just a fraction away from. You looked annoyed and he knew it was once again because of him. He asked you to tutor him and yet here you are having to watch another girl try and take him away.
"Um, I don’t know, I’m kinda doing something with Y/n right now and I don’t know how long it’ll be," Soobin said mindlessly, eyes glancing in your direction like you would reward him for being blunt, he turned to you, "Can we continue?"
You stared at him in surprise. This is not how you expected this moment to go. You were almost certain that was thrilled at the idea of ending this and leaving with someone he appears to be close to. Sure, you watched him tell her he was busy but she kept pushing and you assumed he would just go with it instead. You were also being a little rude and she was his friend right, why else would they have looked so close last semester? You assumed he would’ve been annoyed by the way you responded to her and would want to end this study session before it could even start.
“I don’t know,” you said, sounding a bit more harsh than you expected, “Do you want to?”
Soobin looked genuinely caught off guard that you would even think that. Why would he not want to? He’s been thinking about this for weeks, he’s worked for this — or well stopped putting in the work so you could tutor him. Do you think he’s going to want to leave to hang out with Jia?
“Yes,” Soobin said looking all doe eyed and you’ve never seen him make that face to you. You looked to Jia, “So, can we finish studying or is there anything else you want to tell Soobin?”
She stared down at you with a glare but you didn’t budge, looking at her unimpressed and not intimidated at all. All you wanted to do was finish this study session, get paid, and go home. Why were they making this so complicated? Was it even worth all this trouble when you haven’t even gotten to reviewing his answers yet.
The more you thought about it the more you realized it was actually really annoying. Would you have to go through this every time you study in the library? Would some girl with a fat crush on Soomin come and try and take him away? Did you really want to put up with that?
Soobin practically jumped in his seat when you stood up, “It’s getting late and we haven’t even started, let’s just try this again some other time, I guess.”
“Y/n!” Soobin’s voice was a little too loud for the people in the library and a few felt perfectly fine telling him to shut up as he ran to the stairs completely forgetting Jin was standing there waiting on him.
The elevator came to a stop on the first floor and you swung your backpack onto your shoulders, head down as you caught up on your notifications. You barely made it past the elevator doors when you bumped into a very hard service. A strong arm grabbed you from the waist as you nearly stumbled back, your phone unfortunately did not have the luck of having someone grab it before it fell. Your hands clung to the shirt of the person and you finally got a good look at him, annoyed huff leaving your lips, “Soobin!?”
“What?” Play it cool, Soobin “I was coming to see where you went after ditching me up there.”
“I literally said we could do it some other day,” you released a sigh as you picked your phone up and shook his hands off your waist. Soobin loomed over your shoulder, “Damn, your screens cracked, when did that happen?”
He wasn’t thinking straight when he said that, all common sense completely left his body as he looked at your phone with pity, only snapping out of his thoughts when he felt you turn your head to look at him. It was then that he realized just how close the two of you were with him leaning down to look over your shoulder. He couldn’t help but attempt a smile noticing just how close your lips are to his and you smelled so goo—
“About two seconds ago, Soobin,” your voice was laced with sarcasm that had goosebumps raising on his skin at how annoyed you sounded, “When you bumped into me, remember?”
He blinked once in realization, feeling his cheeks heat up, “I did that?”
A tired sigh left your lips as you decided to ignore him. You weren’t sure if he was playing dumb to get on your nerves or if he actually was clueless but now you were more annoyed than before. You don’t have the money nor the time to get your screen fixed and you definitely can’t afford a new one.
“I’m going home,” you mumbled as you turned away from him, “Go find another tutor, probably Jia will help—“
“I don’t want to,” Soobin’s deep voice cut you off as he followed you out the door into the outside, “I want you to tutor me, Y/n. I’m sorry about your phone, I’ll fix it but don’t take back your word, you already agreed.”
You groaned, “Ugh, Soobin there’s so many girls who’ll tutor you and for free, you don’t need me and besides, we can’t study in the library if someone is going to interrupt.”
“Y/n it’s been one day,” Soobin said harshly, “Did Jia bother you that much?”
Soobin couldn’t help but feel hopeful and he wasn’t sure why. He knows you don’t like him so there’s no way you were jealous but to see you act just a little possessive over him made him blush. He liked it. He liked it a lot and he was determined to make you admit it any way you can. He watched you roll your eyes, expression laced with attitude, “I don’t care about Jia, Soobin, but if I’m trying to help your studies I’m not interested in others tagging along.”
He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he tilted his head to the side curiously, “So you want me to yourself?”
Once again you rolled your eyes, turning your back to him, “I’m leaving.”
“No,” Soobin grabbed at your wrist softly, “I’m kidding, come on, let’s figure something out, yeah?”
“Like?” You asked, still not sure why you’re willing to put yourself through this when you don’t even like him that much. You watched as his shoulder rose and dropped in a shrug, biting his lip in thought and you released a small sigh to let him know you were running out of patience. He looked down, “I don’t know, maybe we could go somewhere that it’s just us two.”
You could barely understand him from the way he mumbled but once you processed what he said, you just nodded, “Alright, I’ll go to your place tomorrow.”
“Really?” He asked, clearly thrilled at the idea but trying to play it off. You just nodded and he finally let you leave.
What were you getting yourself involved with him?
Soobin couldn’t sleep all night. He went to his classes looking like a complete zombie and for once he had an actual reason for not paying much attention. As much as he wanted to see you all day you made him wait till late because you had work after your last class. It only made him more anxious and he cleaned around his apartment twice, just to be sure you didn’t think he was messy even if he kind of was. The entire time this all happened, his friend watched him from the comfort of Soobin’s bed.
“So what makes you think Y/n would even want to hang out in your bedroom?” Taehyun asked as he watched his friend go crazy. Soobin was acting like he was preparing a date, he saw him put on Chanel perfume about three times, each time saying he couldn’t remember if he put any on. He even styled his hair on.y to mess it up and restyle it differently.
Soobin shrugged, “I don’t know, but my desk is here, Y/n might.”
Taehyun just nodded, not seeming fully convinced but went along with it anyway, “Wishful thinking, bin, wishful thinking, and just speak your truth, what’s the real reason why you want to be in your room instead out in the living room?”
He smirked watching the way Soobin’s face flushed red, “Privacy.”
He chuckled, “From who?”
Soobin didn’t answer him and it only made Taehyun smile in amusement, “I love you, but it’s never going to happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Soobin asked as he checked his phone, already smiling at the text you sent a few minutes ago that said you were already on your way.
soobin: ok just lmk
soobin: I’ll come down if u want
You didn’t respond but he didn’t expect you to, he only just sent the message but he still found himself waiting for those three dots to pop up on the message thread.
“I’m talking about how badly you want to hook up with Y/n,” Taehyun said, making Soobin look up at him completely shocked.
“I hate Y/n,” obviously he didn’t but he didn’t like the idea of his friends knowing he liked you without knowing how you felt and he had a reason for this. If they knew he liked you despite how mean you were to him, they would think he’s a masochist… it’s better they think he hates you too but apparently he wasn’t fooling anyone considering Kai caught on pretty quickly too.
Taehyun let out a laugh, one of those really loud and obnoxious laughs that told Soobin he was actually very amused by whatever was happening. He went as far as wiping away his cheek like a tear had fallen and said, “Good one, almost believed you there.
“I’m serious,” Soobin said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, fixing a wrinkle in his shirt, “Y/n is mean to me, why would I like her?”
“I wanna know why too,” Taehyun said as he rolled onto his stomach only making himself more comfortable on the bed, “I mean, she’s hot, but she’s mean—wait a second, you like that she’s mean, huh?”
Taehyun was just teasing him at this point and when Soobin refused to respond, his eyes only widened, “Oh my god! You like that Y/n’s mean to you, are you a perv, Hyung?”
He was only teasing, he swears it. He doesn’t care what his friend is into, what he likes is totally up to him but it’s just fun to poke fun at him when he gets so flustered about it. He doesn’t blame Soobin for liking you, like he said, he can agree that you’re attractive, but you’ve blown Soobin off for three years. Did he really like you enough to keep up his charades and if so did he really go as far as failing his classes just to get you to talk to him? God, what will you do to Soobin once you find out?
“I’m not a perv!” Soobin yelled, a little louder than expected. He’s really not. He’s not a perv… he’s just… he just likes you. Yes, he likes that you’re a little mean to him, yes he likes when you scold him, yes he likes pushing your buttons and yes he especially liked it when you do it and he can see down your shirt or look at the squishiness of your thighs but… but he’s not a perv!
Okay, maybe he’s imagined what it’s like to feel under your shirt and has struggled to pay attention to anything but the sight of you in a short skirt but that doesn’t make him a perv, he’s just an easily distracted guy…
Before Taehyun could rebut, a loud knock was heard on the front door that had both of their eyes widening in surprise. Soobin was practically sprinting toward the door as his friend gathered his things to leave. He meant to leave before you were here but clearly time passed by way too fast and now he’s getting ready to leave just as Soobin was opening the door to you.
You looked at Taehyun curiously as he ran past you and out the door, yelling, “Hi Y/n! Bye Y/n!”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let yourself into Soobin’s apartment, “What’s up with him? Why’d he leave in a hurry?”
“Uh,” Soobin gave you a blank expression that sort of reminded you of a confused bunny and you watched him scratch the back of his head in thought, “You said no distractions and… and he would be a distraction, right?”
“I guess,” you took the chance to look around his apartment, it was huge, way bigger than your apartment and it was so painfully obvious that he came from money. He had a grand piano in the corner for fuck’s sake. There was even a chandelier hanging above the dining table and a fireplace by the tv. Too distracted to notice Soobin move behind you, you nearly hit him in self defense when he began to pull on your backpack to take it off your shoulders. Without bothering with a thank you, you headed toward his marble dining table waiting for him to follow but he just stood in place.
“We’re studying in my room,” Soobin said in voice that radiated confidence, completely opposite of the desperate tone he used to prove to Taehyun that he was not a perv. He had an act to play, he assumed you liked mean guys. He’s heard of some of the guys you used to talk to and they all had one thing in common… they were intimidating and Soobin didn’t feel like that at all so he had to play the part.
You didn’t even question it as you followed him into his room, eyes immediately zoning in on the white cage set on its own stand, two different levels to it and a small hedgehog inside. Soobin cleared his throat awkwardly, “That’s Odi, he’s a hood boy.”
Fuck, Soobin thought, why would he say that about a damn hedgehog?
“Cute,”you said coolly as you took the main desk chair, making him have to pull up a smaller chair next to you. You thought Odi was cute after he called him a good boy? Or did him calling Odi a good boy not affect your thoughts on the hedgehog? Oh god, his mind was completely scrambled.
Soobin didn’t have to be asked this time to show you his most recent exam. He knew it was what you were going to ask to see first and he wanted to show you that he could be a very good listener. He looked to you to see how you would react to his quick obedience but you barely even blinked as you pulled it toward you. You pursed your lips in thought and he watched your mouth closely. Your lips looked so soft, so plump and smooth with light lip balm on them.
He wondered how soft they would be in a kiss. Were you a good kisser? Would you think he’s a good kisser? How far would the two of you go or would it just be kissing? He would someday like to get to a point where he can openly adore you because there’s just so much from your pretty hair to your pretty legs and everything in between.
He had a dirty secret that’s not so much of a secret considering his thoughts from earlier but… he can’t help but always notice your breasts—after your cute annoyed face of course—he wasn’t a complete bimbo. He respects you, he can’t just immediately look at your boobs despite the fact that today you were a low cut fitted shirt. He tried paying more attention to your face as it looked like you were about to talk but his eyes couldn’t help but slowly trail down your neck to your collarbone until he saw just the smallest hint of cleavag—
“Are you listening?” He snapped his gaze back to yours looking completely red handed as he nodded his head, clearly not listening.
You released a sigh as you looked at him in thought. Soobin was smart, you knew how smart he was so why did he seem so clueless right now?it’s like he had no thoughts in that cute head of his an—did you just consider him cute?
You blinked in surprise at your own thoughts and just as you were going to ask him to repeat what you said, you saw in real time the way his gaze seem to drop once more and you finally understood what was going on.
Soobin was trying so hard not to stare and failing yet the attempt was cute, especially when he seemed to let his lower jaw go slack and lips part slightly at the sight. Normally you would immediately be disgusted but it’s Soobin… he’s annoying and a know-it-all but just look at that brain empty expression of his, not caring at all now if he gets caught.
Without thinking you dropped a hand to his thigh, squeezing slightly and making his gaze return to yours, “What did I say?”
“What?” Soobin asked, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance, the cold and deep voice was back. You rolled your eyes, “You said you were listening so I’m asking you to repeat what I said.”
You’ll admit this was all a bit out of character but you just had to see if you were right… was Soobin really staring at your cleavage openly, and if so, how did you feel about it?
“Um…” Soobin looked down at your hand, “Um…”
“Um?” You repeated sarcastically, “Can you focus? If not, I’m going home.”
“Yah!” Soobin whined with a low groan, “Stop saying that, you already agreed to tutor me, stop trying to back ou—“
“Then pay attention!” You said back and he practically stomped his foot in a tantrum, just wanting to argue now.
“I’m trying but you—you’re,” he groaned in frustration as the words died in his throat and with a defeated sigh, he mumbled, “I’m sorry… I wasn’t listening.”
You smiled proudly, not at all in a rush to figure out what had him so distracted, and instead said, “Good boy, don’t you feel better being honest?”
The words just slipped and you didn’t think much of them as you went back to the laptop, already writing down answers to the questions he got wrong, meanwhile Soobin is trying to calm the painful red blush in his cheeks.
There was a small sphere in the palm of your hand, it was a shade of dark blue with a white swirl on it and it matched the same one Yeonjun held in his hand. You’ve shared one class with him in the last two years and it’s in the one you’re currently in. The two of you have never spoken a single word to each other and the semester started six weeks ago. He looked just as surprised to realize his partner was chosen randomly by a stupid marble.
He released a small nervous chuckle, clearly just caught off guard by this. He’s almost a 100% certain you’re like the only person in class that he hasn’t spoken to. Now, that didn’t mean he didn’t notice you, you were pretty and never talking to you really did make you seem a bit mysterious to him. He cleared his throat, “Alright, when should we get started?”
You checked the time on your phone, you were supposed to be meeting Soobin soon to study at his place but you’ve just been completely blindsided by this sudden partner project in class. You only had about a week to turn in the research paper and you had to work a couple nights this week. You agreed to study with Soobin on days you didn’t work but now with this on the table, you seriously don't know what to do. Well, obviously you have to do the assignment but you don’t know how to tell Soobin. If you just sent him a text about it you’re pretty positive he will just blow up your phone nonstop because for some reason he desperately needs you to continue these study sessions.
“When are you free?” You asked him trying to figure out what time would work best for you to work on this. You were only getting tomorrow to do research in class and after that the two of you are basically on your own as the unit confíes on in class.
Class has just ended so the two of you walked together outside of the room trying to figure out when would work best. It was hard to ignore the looks you received from some of your other classmates and you knew why. Yeonjun was attractive, really attractive and he was popular too.
Yeonjun brought his phone out too, checking his schedule, leaning a little closer to talk to you, “Um, I could do… well I work tomorrow after class… are you free later to get started?”
Soobin had a smile on his face that he knew soon he would need to drop it, he couldn’t let you know how excited he was to see you right now. He was in a good mood, anytime someone said hi to him he was quick to say it back but if a girl tried stopping him to talk he would excuse himself saying he had to go somewhere.
His class ended a little earlier today so instead of waiting in the parking lot for you, he went to your last class.
Just as he turned the corner, his smile seemed to fall without his control anyway. Standing just a few feet away from him he found you and you looked so pretty today in a pair of jeans that hugged your curves just the way he liked it and… and you were standing with Choi Yeonjun.
He watched you smile at whatever Yeonjun said and he debated if he should just wait. He could wait, of course he can and honestly it’s what he should do. You’re just talking to another guy and it’s not like you’re flirting, right? It shouldn’t even matter to him, you’re not dating—you don’t even like him! So why does he feel bothered?
“Hey,” Soobin’s deep voice surprised you as he came up behind you, so close that you felt him press against your backpack, just looming over you with a hardened gaze. You looked back at him, “Hey.”
“Are you ready?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and he couldn’t help but shift his gaze toward Yeonjun, who he definitely wasn’t happy to see was just standing there.
You looked at him apologetically, “I don’t know if I can make it tonight. We just got assigned this project and we don’t have time to do it in class so…”
Your words slowly died down as you watched his facial expression change. His lips turned downward and eyes seemed to sadden, “What?”
You looked at Yeonjun, “I’ll see you in the library.”
He took the hint and left you alone with Soobin who loomed over you with his height looking like a kicked puppy. You’re not sure why this expression really bothered you and you’re feeling really guilty now even if it wasn’t completely your fault. You found yourself saying, “I’m sorry.”
“But we agreed to meet up today,” Soobin said.
“I’m sorry but we want to get at least the outline finish—“
“Then what about after?” He rushed to ask. You looked at him apologetically, “It depends on what time we get done.”
You’re not even sure why the look on his face was making you feel bad but it was. The two of you didn’t even start to get along till just a couple weeks ago and sometimes he’s just so different from the cold side you’re used to. Sometimes he gives you snippets of how desperate he might be to see you but you can’t help but always brush it off. You just can’t tell what’s the real side of him and you’re starting to be affected by his cuter clingier side even if you couldn’t understand it.
“I’ll be waiting,” Soobin said, rushing away because he didn’t know what else to do. He was leaving before you could say that you can’t keep any promises. You rolled your eyes at how pushy he was but part of you smiled, shaking your head in disbelief and clearly amused.
Soobin didn’t lie either. He waited at home playing video games and checking his phone every couple minutes. He would occasionally send you a text, just a little reminder that you can’t forget him.
soobin: what time do u think u’ll be done ☺️
you: I don’t know yet soobin
soobin: :(
*five minutes later*
soobin: almost done?
you: not yet
soobin: 🥺 well hurry
you: …
soobin: 😞
*twenty minutes later*
soobin: 😞
you: what’s wrong
soobin: nothing :)
soobin: did you forget?
you: ?
soobin: study time?
you: no, I didn’t forget
Listen, the texts were annoying. They were so annoying because you and Yeonjun were trying to finish up the rough draft for your outline but Soobin just kept sending you text after text. It was annoying but…
It was pretty fucking cute. Ugh, he was just being clingy and though you found it annoying it was also so cute and it had you hurrying up your time with Yeonjun so you could text Soobin.
you: just finished
soobin: ok 🥰hurry
That’s how you found yourself sitting across from Soobin in his overly large living room trying to talk to him but his eyes were just straying away from your eyes. It wasn’t his fault though, like he said earlier, you just looked so pretty. Your shirt was fitted today and like usual he can’t seem to get over your chest. All of you really, your pretty face, pretty voice, pretty laugh and smile… your boobs and your butt and your cold attitude, it all just turned him into mush.
“Hey,” your voice scared him out of his gaze and he looked up at you blankly and clearly caught off guard, “Can you look at me when I’m talking to you?”
“Okay,” he nodded his head obediently, “Sorry.”
“You don’t even have your backpack,” you said as he looked down at his lap, “You were blowing up my phone the entire time I was with Yeonjun and you’re not even ready to study.”
“I know,” he gulped, eyes unable to help themselves from slowly looking down to your cleavage again. “I’m sorry.”
You released an annoyed groan, grabbing his shirt suddenly and shaking him, “Are you?”
“Yes,” Soobin nodded, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again Y/n, I’ll be good, I promise.”
“So next time I’m doing schoolwork with Yeonjun what are you going to do?” You asked.
He released a sudden huff that made it clear he was less than happy to say this but said it anyway, “I’ll wait patiently for you to finish.”
Nodding your head you turned toward the small coffee table where your laptop was, “Kay, go get your bag so we can start reviewing this.”
Soobin jumped to his feet, running away with a smile, “So you’re not mad at me?”
“No,” you said feeling him practically squeal next to you, making you only the more confused but couldn’t help yourself from saying, “It was annoying in a cute way.”
Soobin bit back the urge to smile and did as told. When he came out he had a white bag in hand that he handed you watching your eyebrows scrunch together cutely as you asked, “What’s this?”
“New phone,” Soobin said casually and your eyes widened in disbelief.
“Soobin, why would you get me—“
“Because I broke yours,” Soobin said helping you open the box, “I already called your service and asked if you would be able to add your line to it and they said yes. I can drive you if you want me to.”
You shook your head no, “This is crazy, you didn’t have to do that! I could still use my phone, it was just the screen.”
“But,” Soobin looked down, “But it’s a gift from me to you, can’t you just take it?”
“Soobin…”
“Soobin is so cute,” your friend Yuna said one night as you got to Beomgyu’s house for a party.
You’ve been filling your friends in on your past two weeks with Soobin and it was all a surprise to them. You seemed to despise Soobin for some time and suddenly you’re all about hanging out with him. Even Soobin seemed to always act cold around you so for you to tell them that he’s been surprisingly clingy is in fact very cute.
“He probably likes you,” Beomgyu said with a shrug of his shoulders that had you spitting out your drink in shock. It’s not like you hadn’t wondered the same thing but for a while you wondered if you had just been reading too much into it and then you felt stupid for even thinking about it. Beomgyu bringing it up so suddenly shocked you, maybe it wasn’t all in your head.
“You think?” You asked genuinely and Beomgyu laughed out loud.
“Are you kidding?” Beomgyu asked, “He’s been staring at you since he got here and I bet you he’s been trying to think up an excuse to talk to you.”
“I’ve known him for like three years now, there’s just no way, I’m not even nice to him,” you said as you looked around for Soobin only to find him already looking at you as he talked a
To some of his own friends. He gave you a big and energetic wave that had you lifting your hand to wave back too. You smiled a little when he did and Yuna sighed, “You like him too, huh? I mean he’s cute—“
“No! No, I don’t,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “I mean… even if I did, would it even matter? He thinks I’m mean, right? It wouldn’t be fair to him.”
They both gave you a blank stare and just as you were going to respond, an arm came around your shoulders as a low voice said, “What are we talking about?”
You said a quick hello to him as your friends started talking, “Soobin and Y/n got a thing for each other and neither one of them will admit it.”
“That’s not tru—“
“Oh, yeah, it is,” Yeonjun said with a laugh, “You should’ve seen the look he gave me when we were talking the other day and yesterday he ignored me when I tried saying hi. I even told him he can have you back because our project was over and he just ignored me!”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “That doesn’t mean he likes me, we’ve just been studying…”
Soobin was not a mean person, he swears it. He’s really nice and gentle and he would never dislike anyone without a reason. He’s too shy for confrontation yet right now he would really love to go up to you and just pull Yeonjun’s arm away from your shoulders. You’re done with your project so why is he s next to you and why is he touching you? Soobin hasn’t even had the chance to hold you so why does he get to? He watched closely as you talked to your friends and Beomgyu trying to make sure Yeonjun wouldn’t try anything. He let Yeonjun take your attention away from him pretty much all last week so why is he still around you? It wasn’t fair, Soobin should be the one next to you. He was such a good listener this week, after you got him in trouble and he promised to be good, he did just that. He only sent you two texts throughout your time with Yeonjun and he didn’t even bother you in class!
“Who are you staring at and are they hot?”
Soobin jumped in surprise, drink spilling down the front of his shirt as he whipped around to find Kai standing there laughing.
“What?” Soobin asked as he looked down at his wet shirt. Kai just sighed, “Nevermind, go clean your shirt.”
If Soobin was mean, he would’ve smacked the kid upside the head but he was nice and nice people only attack with pillows and there’s no pillows close enough to use. He’ll get Kai back soon, just not now, now he has to clean his shirt. He looked back to you and Yeonjun as if making sure there wasn’t any funny business and practically ran to go clean himself off.
He skipped past the line to the bathroom and walked down to the end of the hall where he knew Beomgyu’s room was. His friend was throwing the party anyway and though the room was off limits, he would understand. Soobin rummaged through his closet and went straight to his bathroom so he could at least wipe off some of the intense smell of alcohol, hurrying himself along so he can watch Yeonjun.
The music from the party was loud enough for him to hear a muffled version of it even hidden away in Beongyu’s bathroom and that made him feel nervous. While he’s in here cleaning off the stench of liquor, you were probably out there surrounded by guys hitting on yo—“Ow!”
Soobin’s head whipped back with a loud thud and his hands immediately flew to his nose as pain shot right through it. The person who pushed the door open stood there in shock, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Bin?”
A pool of red began to fill his cupped hands and he moved over the bathroom sink with a groan. You visibly cringed as he moved around you and reached for the toilet paper as you stood there shocked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I—oh my god.”
He finally looked over at you, heart racing as he pulled the paper towel away, blood beginning to dribble again, “Y/n?”
“Soobin, I’m sorry, I saw you come over here and I wanted to sneak up on you but,” your face cringed, “Soobin please, you’re still bleeding.”
“Oh right,” Soobin held the paper towel to his nose again.
“It’s a lot of blood,” you said apologetically, “I’m sorry, Soobin.”
“It’s fine, this happens all the time,” he waved you off with a bloody hand and you bit down on your bottom lip looking hurt, “No it doesn’t, I’m so sorry.”
You sniffled a bit as you looked at your reflection in the mirror while Soobin carefully wiped off whatever mess was left until it was all clean. You struggled to look at him and his red nose even if he was completely clean but he didn’t even notice. He was more excited that you came to see him instead of staying out there with other guys, “So you wanted to sneak up on me?”
“Well you had been staring at me all night and I was just gonna see if you would say hello. I should’ve just waited outside, this is awkward right?” You were rambling a bit but he just smiled lovingly.
He shook his head no as the two of you left the bathroom, “No, not awkward, right? I wanted to say hi but you were busy.”
“Busy?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”
You weren’t busy, you were just talking to your friends. Nothing you talked about was serious or anything you just talked about Soobin, he could’ve said hi at any time. Soobin’s smile dropped, going serious for a moment, “Yes you were, with Yeonjun, I saw.”
You blinked in thought, “We were just talking, you could’ve come over any time.”
He released a deep sigh, looking around the dark bedroom happy that it was just two despite the dozens of people out there getting drunk with loud music. Letting his gaze fall back on you, he made a small pout, “Well, how was I supposed to know that? Last time you got me in trouble for not leaving you alone when you’re with Yeonjun an—“
“Soobin, that was just when we were studying, I didn’t realize you were thinking I meant all the time,” you said apologetically. Soobin stepped closer to you, “I was just trying to be good and listen. If I knew then I would have pulled you away the second I saw Yeonjun even come close to you!”
You looked genuinely taken back by his tone, if you didn’t know any better you would say that he almost sounded jealous. Even the look in his eye made it seem like he wasn’t happy and you weren’t used to this at all. The other day when you talked to Yeonjun for the first time, Soobin stormed up to you and took you by surprise when he appeared behind you, so close that you felt his breath on your shoulder.
Now you’re starting to see that it was possibly all because of jealousy.
“Are you jealous of Yeonjun?” You asked him and he audibly scoffed.
He was not jealous of Yeonjun. He didn’t think Yeonjun was better than him, if anything he thought they were pretty much on the same level of attractiveness. Yeonjun was more extroverted than he was but Soobin wasn’t worried about that. He didn’t feel so insecure over things like that so no, he’s not jealous.
He’s possessive. Soobin knows you aren’t dating and he knows that you probably still don’t like him yet but… but you’re his. He’s already called dibs, he’s already put in so much work to make that happen. Obviously he’s not going to be happy if your attention strays away from him, he wants you looking at him and thinking about him all the time, the way he does about you.
“No,” Soobin finally said, “But… but you’re… yknow, you’re mi—“
“Why are you in my shirt?” Beomgyu asked as his bedroom door opened and he stood in the entrance. He looked between you in surprise, “Wait, am I interrupting something?”
You stood there in shock, you weren’t sure what he was about to say but part of you also felt like you had an idea. It really did seem like you had an idea. After all your friends have basically instilled it in your head that he might like you it wasn’t hard to guess what he was going to say but you just can’t bring yourself to fully believe it yet. He was so nice, you can see it now so you just felt bad to think that he might like you after you were mean to him at times. To make things worse, he seemed to be totally okay with you always snapping on him or just ignoring him and you just felt bad because you were genuinely starting to fall for him and you can admit that now.
Soobin shook his head no. He had been watching you the entire time and he can just tell you’re overwhelmed by something right now. He just smiled cutely, “I had to borrow your shirt because mine got wet, sorry?”
You looked up at him, and he smiled wider, eyes crinkling, “I think I’m gonna head home now but I’ll text you.”
Soobin said goodbye to you and Beomgyu and before you could make your leave, Beomgyu pulled you back in, “What happened? What were you guys doing? Were you making out? Ew, oh my god please don’t tell me if you did anything on my bed.”
“What are you talking about?” You asked, clearly thrown off, “No, we were just talking, if you hadn’t interrupted then I would have known what he was going to say.”
He gasped, “I didn’t interrupt, you’re in my room, remember? And why didn’t you just go with him, you like him too.”
You bit your lip, “How do I tell him? I just missed my chance.”
“I don’t know, you’ll probably just have to show him.”
When Monday came you went over to Soobin’s place for your usual study lessons. After the party the two of you have been texting but it wasn't about anything deep. It’s like you were tip toeing around a possible confession that neither of you wanted to do through text. After your last class he invited you over with the intention to just be straight forward and hope that you would want him but he’s still a little scared.
If you tell him you hate him he thinks he might cry so he’s been trying to seem cool and collected this entire time.
He fidgeted in his desk chair as he watched you take your laptop out. With a clear of his throat he stood up, “Um, do you want water? I can get us some.”
“Sure, where is your textbook? I forgot mine.”
He pointed to his backpack and let you get it as he left for the kitchen. Without a single thought, you reached for his huge backpack in search of a familiar textbook. Once you found the book you pulled it out of his overly stuffed bag accidentally bringing a few papers with it too and as you looked them over, your eyes widened.
CHOI SOOBIN
SCORE: 65
You didn’t think about it for a second, he’s been showing his assignment scores and it has been improving little by little bit as you took a closer look you could clearly see a layer of whiteout and the score 98, crossed off. It made your brows furrow in confusion and you looked at the pages finding answers erased and replaced with wrong ones crossed out in red.
It’s like he was purposely grading himself bad and as you put the papers back away you realized why. He asked you to tutor him and you never understood that. He was always smarter than you so you couldn’t wrap your head around why he asked you of all people to help him. Even when it came down to the actual study sessions, Soobin always got things right away and very rarely struggled to find an answer but then he would come to you and quickly show you his bad score and ask for your help again.
Sometimes, studying was the last thing on his agenda when he was with you and you always found him distracted and not fully listening so now you know he’s been lying to you. He lied to get you to study with him yet all you’ve seen was him stare at your boobs, get clingy, and pretend to get bad grades.
Was all this just a little scheme to get you to hang out with him? If that’s the case then did he really like you and expect you never to find out?
Sure, you’ve come to realize that you like him too but for him to go this far just for you to talk to him… well, you’re not all that happy about it. Did he expect you never to find out and now that you have what was your plan?
Soobin came in with a smile on his face, “I brought snacks.”
“Mhm,” you said, moving to sit on his bed and away from his backpack, “Let’s work on the bed today, I wanna get comfortable.”
He watched you make yourself on his bed and all he could focus on was the way your skirt fluttered around your legs exposing more of your thighs and when he looked up at you, your eyes were already on him, catching him red handed in the act of checking you out. This time around you smirked a bit now knowing that he’s been lying this whole time just to get you to hang out with him. It was cute and he was cute so you can’t be mad but at the same time, he was very bold in getting mad when you had to study with Yeonjun, made you feel guilty too. You gotta let him know you know about his lie but you’re working up a plan.
It’s not no surprise that he likes you, that has become painfully obvious and you like him too but you want to get him in trouble. He lied and he thought you would never find out. How long did he plan on keeping this up? He’s gotta get in trouble, right? Maybe a little teasing, just to see if this really was all just to study or for him to get a good look at you when you’re alone together. It’s not like you never noticed the way his eyes would trace down your body while you’re trying to do homework.
If you’re going to tell him you know about his lie, you’re going to make it fun.
“O—okay,” Soobin stuttered as he sat down with a foot of space between you, “I mean, yeah cool.”
You smiled at his awkwardness, now you can see that he’s not as cold as he wants to to think he is and it only makes him look cuter.
The two of you studied for a bit, you couldn’t come right out and tell him you knew the truth, where was the fun in that? You had to play along a bit and see how he would take it so that’s what you did.
“Soobin, you keep getting the answer wrong and I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said as you watched him hesitate over the right answer before choosing the wrong one, eyes sliding over to look at you every now and then. You were wearing a low cut top again and matched with your miniskirt it was getting hard for him to not get distracted and the two of you are alone in his bed… he just can’t focus.
“Sorry, Y/n,” his eyes lingered on your thighs a little longer than usual and you subconsciously unwrapped them a little, the small gap from where the skirt ended and what covered your underwear, slowly widened. You released a heavy sigh, “Why are you so distracted?”
At that his eyes seemed to fall toward your cleavage, catching himself in the act of staring and looked back down, “I don’t know.”
You had to bite back a smirk and without any hesitation, you moved closer to his side, “Do I need to punish you? Will that get you to pay attention?”
You were half joking but tempted to see what he would say and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he seemed to become mush at your words, “H-how?”
You released a deep sigh, “How? That’s the wrong answer, I shouldn’t have to punish you. You should say, ‘Okay, Y/n, I’ll pay attention.’ What are you? A perv?”
Soobin went quiet at that and for a second you thought you might’ve said the wrong thing. His face flushed red and he looked down at his lap sadly but before you could apologize for asking him that, he said, “Maybe.”
“Maybe? So you’re a perv?” Your brows raised in surprise, “You want me to punish you?”
He gave a subtle nod of his head making you grow quiet, well this just got interesting. With a huff, pretending to be annoyed, you shifted even closer taking his hand in yours and pulling it to write on his paper with yours over his, “Start writing.”
“What am I writing?”
“Write: I am a liar and a perv,” you said jokingly and he looked up at you cutely so you helped him write, “I lied to Y/n about needing help, and I can’t stop staring at her boobs.”
His hand froze up mid sentence, “Y/n, how’d you find out?”
You smiled, he didn’t even bother hiding it this time, “Because I found your exam scores, you’ve been lying to me Soobin, after telling me nonstop how good you are,” you said with a stern voice.
“Are you mad?” He asked shyly. You released a sigh, pretending to contemplate, “Maybe? Are you going to listen and pay attention from now on?”
He nodded his head, watching curiously as you moved to sit behind him, turning to stare at you but you snapped your fingers forcing him to look forward again. You scooted close until your legs were spread around his big frame with your breasts pressed against his back that had his breath hitching in surprise. They already felt squishy and your arms moved to hug his waist. Soobin sucked in a breath when your hands rested on his thighs and he immediately looked down, already feeling himself begin to fidget in excitement and nervousness.
“I want you to read the question, and tell me the answer, I know you know it,” you said, making him nod his head, throat too dry to give you a verbal response, “But since you’re a perv, I’m not going to make it easy for you, I’m gonna touch you and if you stop, I stop, got it?”
As if to further explain what you meant, your hand moved toward his groin area making him breath heavier, “Mhm.”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes,” he sighed, “I’ll listen.”
His head tilted to the side when you began to teasingly touch the zipper, slowly pulling it down and undoing the button of his jeans, “Start reading.”
Soobin swallowed dryly, unable to help himself from thinking about the fact that you’re brakes today, he could practically feel your nipples against his back and when your hand ran over the expanse of his growing length, he couldn’t find the right word. You were a little surprised to feel his immediate response to your touch, already feeling him harden before you even did anything and you smiled, “I said, start reading.”
“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod of his head, blinking to try and collect his thoughts, “First question, When a gene is expressed, it means that the protein—ohh.”
His breath hitched in surprise as your hand wrapped around his clothed cock feeling him just continue to get more erecting. You even gave it a little squeeze, “Did I say stop? No, so keep going.”
“Mhm, protein that it codes for is being made by transcription and translation…” his word slowly when your thumb circled around his tip, still not touching him under his briefs, teasing him, “Imagine two genes in a eukaryote. One is gene X. The other is gene A—Y/n, I can’t focus.”
“So did you lie to me again?” You asked, finally sneaking your hand under the waistband or his briefs, “You said you would listen and pay attention.”
Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft and teasing stroke, feeling his dick twitch instantly as he nodded his head. The words were bef ninny to get blurry when your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum, surprised that it was already leaking. Soobin licked his dry lips trying to focus again, “In the cells you are studying, gene X is being expressed, and gene A is not being expressed—oh my god.”
He stopped when he felt you lean further against him, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss against his neck, fingers brushing along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t help but buck his hips just a little. You pulled his cock out of his underwear, “You still haven’t even finished reading the first question.”
“I’m trying,” he released a moan, “But it’s so hard, Y/n.”
You glanced down at his dick over his shoulder, nearly joking and asking if he meant his dick or the action. The head was red with need and precum leaked from the tip with a thick vein nearly throbbing everytime your hand stroked him. You gave him a small squeeze hearing him moan freely, “Keep going.”
With an annoyed groan he nodded, still waiting a moment when you began to pump his length using his own excess precum to lubricate him for an easier slide. He attempted to pick up where he left off, “—and gene A is not being expressed—ngh. Which prediction below is most likely true in these cells?”
You kissed his neck again, “Now what’s the answer?”
He released a throaty moan that made you suck harshly against his neck with the vibrations of it, stroking faster, squeezing at his base and flicking your wrist around his tip, unable to ignore the way he raised his hips to fuck into your fist. You put your legs on to of his lap to keep him from bucking, holding him in place, “I’m waiting.”
His head lolled to the side, hissing in pain when you stopped, tightening your fist and looked at him expectantly. He had to use his stupid brain, “Ugh, i—it’s B. There are more activa—oh my god—activators for gene X than for gene A.”
Your tongue licked a long stripe toward his ear, sucking on his ear lobe as you said, “Good boy, Soobin, next one.”
“Mhm,” he whined, feeling his heart leap at the name, “Good boy,” he repeated to himself. Unable to help himself he turned his head to look at you, big sparkly eyes staring into yours and without much thought, you leaned forward, letting your tongue slide into his mouth, never once stopping the jerking of his cock until finally… you felt it.
It was a complete overflow of warmth, thick and creamy cum that wouldn’t stop leaking from his tip as he threw his head back with a loud moan, hips lifting up even with your legs holding him down. It felt never ending, your fist was completely covered in his cum and it drenched his jeans and boxers, you were genuinely surprised. You didn’t know someone could cum this much from a simple handjob.
Soobin released a dry groan as you finally freed yourself from the absolute puddle of cum, looking down at the white cream that coated your fingers, letting him go and watching him fall limp against you. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and he looked absolutely fucked out that you allowed him to lie down as you pushed the textbooks off the bed, wiping your hand against his own jeans, tugging them off, “Soobin.”
“Mm,” he hummed, looking completely zoned out but let you undress him. You clicked your tongue, climbing on top of his spent cock watching it twitch with life as you sat down, “Did I tell you to cum, bunny?”
His lip quivered as he looked at you, wordlessly shaking his head no. You released a deep sigh, “So you weren’t listening? Is that good or bad?”
“Bad,” he said sadly, “B—but I couldn’t Y/n, I—“
“You what?” You asked teaching for the end of your shirt, “You just thought to cum soon, like a dumb virgin?”
He stayed quiet, watching and feeling completely hypnotized by the sight of your bare breasts for his eyes only, finally. They were just how he imagined, big and soft with nipples he could see harden under his intense gaze. He was so lost in the sight that he absentmindedly said, “Yes.”
You seemed to stop as you flung your shirt to the floor, only wearing your small miniskirt, “Yes what?”
“Dumb virgin—“
“What?” You asked suddenly watching his face redden and you felt goosebumps raise on your skin, “Are you saying… are you a virgin?”
He nodded blankly, eyes on your boobs and nothing else, his cock coming back to life, “Mhm.”
“Oh my god,” you nearly jumped off his lap but his hands moved so fast to hold you by the waist and stop you. Your eyes widened, “Soobin, I—are you—oh my god, is this your first time getting a handjob?”
He blushed, nodding his head shyly, hands unable to stop themselves from sliding up your sides until they were just under the curves of your tits, thumbs nearly touching, “Yes and my first kiss, bu—“
“I am so sorry,” you tried to move but his hands were suddenly cupping your breasts, a blank expression on his face as he stared at them in awe, catching a feel while you tried apologizing, “Soobin, we shouldn’t. I—I—“
“I want to,” Soobin groaned, thumbs running over your nipples, “Please Y/n, I want you so fucking bad. I think about you all the time, I think about this all the time.”
You couldn’t help but grind against his naked cock at his words, “You do?”
His big hands felt good as they groped you, “All the time.”
It didn’t take you long to realize what he meant, a small smile on your face, “When you touch yourself?”
He nodded, releasing a quiet whisper as your nipples became hard pebbles that he couldn’t help but pinch, you smiled, grinding on his fat spent cock, “When you watch porn?”
Once again he nodded.
“When else?”
“Whenever you leave here,” he confessed, completely hypnotized by the bounce of your tits when you grind on his dick, “I tried using a flesh light but I’m too big, it always rips an—“
Now he was blabbing but it made you so fucking horny. He was big, too big to be a virgin and the territorial side of you was taking over. You’re the only one who’s made this big, stupid cock cum and holy shit, he came so much just from a handjob!
Feeling a bit more confident, he tilted his head cutely, looking up at you, “You’ve got big boobs, Y/n.”
“I kno—“
“Can I kiss em?”
Your eyes widened in surprise and a wicked smirk came to your face, shimmying up his torso, “No.”
His jaw dropped sadly, “Bu—“
“I got something better you can kiss,” you said seductively and he looked up at you with the cutest doe eyes you’ve ever seen. How could you ever dislike him? Just look at him.
“Really?” He looked down at the space between your legs, a thin thong right there between your folds and he could make out a wet spot. Licking his lips his big hands found your thighs, taking the honor to help you move up, “I’ve never, y’know…”
“I know, bunny,” you said even as he moved you closer and closer to your head with anticipation, “I’ll talk you through it bu—Soobin!”
A small squeal left your lips as he nearly knocked you forward, face between your legs, “Wait, I’m heavy, don’t do that unless you want me to suffocate you.”
Soobin wasn’t listening, his face was already against your pussy, nose brushing over the soaked fabric of your underwear, “Is okay, I want you to.”
He licks the wet spot on your underwear, lapping at the puddle with a moan, “Smells so good, Y/n, love it.”
You softly tugged his hair, leaning more and more of your weight onto his face and rocking, “Careful, okay? If it’s too much just tell me to stop.”
Soobin nodded his head against your clit, giving you a thumbs up before he completely yanked at your frail panties making you gasp as he tore into them. You yelled his name once more and he made a pout, “Sorry, they were in my way.”
“Slow down Binnie,” you reminded him, for a guy who’s never done it he seemed so experienced. Maybe it was all the porn he watched. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as his tongue began lapping between your hole and your clit, sucking on it like it was a fucking lollipop, swirling his tongue around it hungrily. It’s not his fault. If you weren’t so pretty with such big boobies and a big brain and a cute laugh… he wouldn’t be so eager. He felt the moment your strength dissipated, hips no longer hovering and practically suffocated him, and he loved it.
He got sloppy, wanting to stick his tongue into your cunt as far as it could go, bunny eyes staring up as you rode his face now, losing yourself to the feeling, “Oh my god.”
Soobin began a repetitive motion with his tongue against your clit, before fucking you with it, he spread your ass with his big hands but his eyes were on the way your tit juggled with each breath you took and he imagined your clit was a nipple. His cock twitched at the thought, legs moving restless against the bed as he tried finding his own release but he jumped bucked his hips into the air.
You were so close, so so so close, moaning like a bitch in heat and accidentally tugging on his hair too hard, but he didn’t mind one bit. He liked it, it egged him on and he made out with your pussy so good that you couldn’t hold back, cum spilling into his open mouth with your thighs clenching around his head. A low moan fell from his lips and as you tried coming down from your heavy orgasm, his own cock released another stream of cum. You turned to look at it, a puddle of white coating his stomach, culling untouched.
Your jaw dropped as he let you go and before you could offer up a break, he was flipping you onto your back, head immediately going between your breasts.
“Fuck,” you breathed out as his mouth attached itself to your left tit like he wanted to swallow them whole. His mouth was covered in your cum and some drool. His cock lay perfectly between your folds and you just felt how hard he was, bringing your hands to his hair, coddling him, “You love my boobs, don’t you?”
At the feel of your hands in his hair, he groans, teeth gently nipping at the hard buds, “Mhm. Love ‘em.”
“I know, that’s why you always stare at them, naughty bunny,” you teased, feeling his shaky inhale. He kissed your tits and sucked on your nipples as his erecting cock jumped your folds, “Not naughty.”
“Really?” You asked, biting back a moan when he shook his head against your boob just soaking in the softness of them against your cheek, “Just being a perv then?”
“Mm,” Soobin moaned, “Wan’ fuck you, Y/n, baby.”
Your brows raised in surprise as the pet name fell from your lips already feeling his hand sink down toward his cock while tonguing at your sensitive nipple. You couldn’t help yourself at this point, stroking your fingers gently over his nipples, smiling as he shudders at the feel, cock slippery in his hands as you said, “Fuck me then.”
With a quick nod he lined himself up, missing your hole a few times till you offered him help and moaned. His body fell against yours, not sure what to do as the tightness of your pussy completely overwhelmed him, face between your tits, tongue trying to lick you even if he was so far away. He whined, “Y/n, Y-Y/n, help—“
His words died when you grabbed his hips, guiding them back before thrusting them into your own pussy until he got the rhythm. You didn’t even think twice about the fact that you weren’t using a condom. You were on birth control and though it wasn’t fully effective it was safer than not having anything and clearly it was too late. You didn’t expect the virgin to have condoms anyway.
“It’s okay, baby, nice and slow—fuck, Bin,” you moaned softly. Where did this new Soobin come from? He was fucking you now at a steady pace dragging his stupidly fat cock out till only his tip was in and drawing his hips forward till he impaled you. His mouth lazily kissed at your breasts before moving up your neck, humping his cock into your stretched out cunt with moans falling from his lips repeatedly.
Soobin was gasping for air and his grunts became louder and louder, slamming into you like his life depended on it, “So good.”
“Yeah?” You asked, clinging to him, “Love your first pussy?”
He kissed you nastily. Tongue down your throat and you could still taste your cum but it only made you moan. He was fucking you roughly, nails digging into your plump hips making sure you couldn’t escape his brutal thrusts even if you wanted to. It was his turn to lose control and fuck, he was so close.
It was a scene out of a porn video, it reeked of sex and his bed sheets were completely ruined. His stomach was covered in his cum that just soaked yours from the way he rutted himself against you and it was just nasty and horny. You hugged him close, legs wrapping around him, tits pressed against his chest, “I’m close, bunny, you gonna cum for me?”
“Mhm,” he whined fucking you so good you were seeing stars. His dick was just so big and the girth on it was insane, he impaled you over and over again, “Gonna cum.”
You know you should tell him to pull out. It’s the right thing to do but…
But…
Hot ropes of his creamy cum filled your cunt suddenly with a cry as his body shook against yours. Despite cumming twice already it felt never ending and you couldn’t help yourself. The stimulation was just too much, his cock still thrusting into the wet space between your thighs.
Soobin sniffled, face between your breasts, clinging to you so hard you had to practically pull at his hair, “Soobin, bunny, I know it was a lot but you have to move.”
He shook his head, you could hear his sniffles get louder, “Don’t wanna.”
You ran your fingers through his hair, pouting when you found his reddened eyes, “I need to clean up.”
He shook his head cutely but he knew better. He slowly pulled out, watching with starry eyes as globs of cum left your pussy, an urge to finger it back into you strong but he let you sit up in shock at the mess.
“Did you lie to me again?” You asked jokingly but it went right over his head even as you said, “You don’t fuck like a virgin.”
“No! I didn’t! You’re my first, I promise,” he basically followed you out of bed, “Don’t leave.”
“I’m not going to,” you assure him, “But I need to use the bathroom.”
“You’ll come back, right?”
You smiled, “I can’t just stay in there, can I? Lay down, I’ll help you clean up next.”
He nodded his head tiredly, doing just what you asked as he yawned.
Once you were done, hoping you got most of it out you opened the door to his bathroom, nearly screaming when you found him standing just on the other side of it. You gasped, “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he sniffles and it looks like he’s been crying, “Sorry.”
“What for?” You asked, trying to lead him back to his bed feeling sad. What happened? You’re not used to Soobin like this. You laid him down and joined him, “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry for lying—I—I—I just like you so much and—and,” he struggled with words and you pulled him in for a hug, his head immediately on your chest.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay, I promise,” you said, “I like you too, why don’t you try and get some sleep? It was a lot for your first time, I’m sorry.”
“I liked it,” he said with a content sigh, “Promise you won’t leave?”
“I promise,” you said brushing his hair back but he wouldn’t budge.
“Pinky swear?” He asked hopeful that you smiled.
“I pinky swear,” you said, kissing the tip of his nose, “We’ve gotta talk anyway.”
He pouted once more, “About? Y-you don’t like me?”
“Binnie, I already told you I do,” you said softly, feeling him relax, “But we need to talk about what to do, right?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, finally relaxing against you, “Want you to be my girlfriend.”
“Aren’t I too mean, though?”
“Yes,” he said cutely, “But I like it.”
::.
ok this took me forever 😭😭sorry friends but I hope it was worth it.
taglist: @laylasbunbunny @bangchansbae
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i-cant-sing · 7 months
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Okay okay, I have another idea-
Yandere dad Nanami x Nanami reader
I've made yall see the menace Fushiguro reader who we all love and adore, but let's talk about Nanami's daughter who is an absolute angel and polar opposite to Fushiguro reader.
Child reader is just the most well behaved kid, listens to her father always, and since Nanami is raising her, she's also going to be very good in her studies because papa Nanami is a very good teacher. I mean, reader is definitely on top of her class and has a whole wall dedicated to her awards and medals. She just has to show off her math skills when she plays cafe (because obv she's gonna be a baker who bakes fresh bread daily for Nanami to buy and make sandwiches) and uses Monopoly money.
And when I say reader is polite, that is the understatement of the history. She just cannot bear to offend anyone! She has to put "-san" with everyone's name and has to address them correctly. "Yuji-san! Megumi-San!" And "pervert-San!" Which is Gojo, because of course Nanami has told her to beware of him and only address him as "pervert-san".
"But my name's Gojo!" He tells you, but you're so distressed because dad told you to call the white haired man wearing a blindfold/glasses "pervert-san" and it'd be rude to address him as anything else!
And Nanami adores his kid so much. She's such a perfect child, never breaks rules (don't talk to strangers or Pervert san.) and is such a goody-goody. He is a present father, he makes time for you. The Jujutsu sorcerers can wait, the world can be saved by someone else, but he needs to attend your school play at all costs. And even when hes not around for the day, he has raised you to be a very responsible child- like you even go get the groceries on your own when dad is late! (Like that Japanese show in which they send kids to shop on their own)
But of course, there are times when he needs to be away for longer periods, so he needs to hire a babysitter. His top choices: Shoko(although hes a little hesitant since you have a morbid curiosity learning and Shoko would happily let you accompany her to the morgue), Yuta, Maki, Megumi + Yuji + Nobara.
Who is NEVER allowed to babysit you? Gojo.
Gojo babysits anyway. (He fr steals you from Megumi trio)
And Nanami just comes home to Gojo and reader eating takeout and he's just like "Y/n, how could you let Pervert san in your home and eat with him?" And reader's just on the brink of tears and is trying to defend herself "b-but you said to be polite to guests! And Pervert-san bought food for me. Wouldn't it be rude to not share it with him?" *reader's teary eyes* and then Gojo is like "you'd rather let your child starve? Can't you see how tiny she already is?!" *Gojo's teary eyes* and Nanami pops a vein "it's not cute when you do it!"And then kicks Gojo out of the house.
Even though reader can dress herself up appropriately, she still has to have her hair done by Nanami, no matter what age. At some point, reader probably realises that it's something Nanami needs more than she does. It's a tradition, you think, but it's actually a coping mechanism for Nanami to deal with the fact that you're "growing up" and don't ask him to watch cartoons with you or read you bedtime stories anymore🥺
And Sukuna??? He takes one look at you and he's already decided he's gonna be mean to you, but then the more time you spend with him and Yuji, the more he realises.... its just not worth being mean to the only person who is so sweet to him and actually greets and talks to him like he's an individual person and not just a parasite inside Yuji's skin. Like reader just goes "Sukuna-san! I'm painting Yuji-san's nails but he can't pick a color. Will you help?" And he's like "Alright, fuck it I'm taking this brat with me when I comit mass murder. She's safe."
I feel like Nanami will allow reader to have a fairly normal childhood, so he keeps his yandere tendencies at a bay. It's when you start growing up and as he says "the others try to taint you with momentary pleasures" that his yandereness begins to show. Honestly, it's just more of his protective tendencies coming to light than anything else. He thinks people don't have your best interests in and sometimes he's right, but how else will you learn if you don't experience it?
Also, if you do end up having cursed energy and the ability to see curses, I think that's when Nanami starts spiralling down. He does not want you to become a Jujutsu sorcerer, he wants you far far away from the Jujutsu world completely. He can't- he can't allow what happened to Haibrara happen to you. He can't allow your innocence and naivety to be tainted by the horrendous world of curses. He'd rather risk you hating him forever as he locks you away than allow you to put your life at risk for others.
You are his priority. Your safety is his priority. You'll understand in due time why he did what he did, so while his heart does break hearing you cry and beg to be let out of your room, he doesn't regret putting you in there one bit.
Nanami sighs as he continues prepping your dinner. Guess he'll have to add some crushed sleeping pills so that you don't get sick from crying your bodyweight out (or more like he can't bear to see you in such a pitiful state.)
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God save the poor souls who do end up kidnapping you.
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iznsfw · 3 months
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Manic Robotic Dream Girl
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena
IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut
8,311 words
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Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 
Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.
That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 
Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—
“Vodka.”
“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 
“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 
Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 
Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 
Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 
In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.
Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?
“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.
A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.
Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 
Take your drink and thank Yuri. 
The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 
You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.
Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 
Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.
Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 
Loneliness?
You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.
The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.
Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.
So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.
A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 
He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”
“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”
WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.
Their lives.
He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”
The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.
“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”
“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”
Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.
The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 
Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.
The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.
Huh.
While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.
He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).
Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.
“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.
-
Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 
Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?
Your table?
It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.
YENA.
Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.
The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.
Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 
Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 
“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 
You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 
“And that is?”
“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”
You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.
She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 
Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.
“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”
“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”
How did you—how did she—
Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 
“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”
Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 
Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.
Maybe she’s just a confident woman.
“Come on, I dare you.” 
“Only if you go first.” 
“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 
Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?
You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 
Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—
“Don’t have one.”
“Sorry?”
She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”
There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.
So no, you’re not buying it.
“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”
“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”
You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.
The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 
That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.
“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”
“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”
Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.
Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.
“My story is, uh, weird.”
“Tell me.”
“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”
Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.
“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”
“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 
Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”
A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.
Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.
“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”
Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 
“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”
It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.
“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”
You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.
She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”
Yena kneels.
There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.
So is your dignity.
Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 
“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”
She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.
“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.
You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 
You don’t.
The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?
Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.
“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 
Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 
Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—
“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”
At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.
You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 
The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.
While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 
“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.
Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.
Perfect hair, too, you note.
Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.
She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.
Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.
Yep, perfect.
“Good—fucking—girl.”
Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.
“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”
What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.
You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.
She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 
“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”
-
You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.
This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.
“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”
“I, uh…” 
The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 
“Well?”
The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 
“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”
He stares at her. 
“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”
You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?
His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.
“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”
The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 
Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 
She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.
Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 
The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”
You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.
“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”
Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.
“I’m not from the North, you know.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”
You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.
You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.
Stop in your tracks. 
See the blood running down her arm. 
“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”
You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?
“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”
You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 
But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 
To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?
“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”
Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 
She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”
“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”
First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 
Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”
Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.
She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 
The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.
She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”
“I guess we’ll have to see.”
Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 
You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 
Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?
The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 
“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.
Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.
You wouldn’t mind that.
Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.
And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.
“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”
“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”
Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 
You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.
You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.
How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 
She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 
“Holy shit, Yena…”
“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”
Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.
Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.
“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 
“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”
“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”
She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?
You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 
“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.
Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 
You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.
Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.
“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”
She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:
“Of course.”
Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?
Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 
Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.
“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 
Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 
“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”
“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 
Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.
The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.
The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.
Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”
Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.
All just to be better.
She is.
“Yeah.”
Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 
It disappears as fast as it arrived.
“Wrong fucking answer.”
Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?
Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 
What the fuck? 
Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.
Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 
“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 
The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—
“Chaewon?” 
Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.
And yet here she is.
Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.
She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”
There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.
“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”
She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?
You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 
“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.
You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.
This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 
A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.
She’s the last thing you ever heard.
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nonomives · 11 months
Text
Hunt vs. Hunted AU
(a.k.a. Vampire Wally AU)
Meet the Kardashians—i mean the Pillars
Part 1 || 2 || 3
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Character line-up (Oldest to youngest)
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So a bit of character Info:
There were more of them, but given the dangers of the monster hunter's profession, theyre the only ones left.
Hannah Pillar
She isn't the actual eldest sibling of the bunch, but among those who are still alive and somewhat sane, she is the oldest. A former mercenary whose main weapons were firearms. She was quite successful in her career but a traumatic incident happened that led to her not being able to weild a gun anymore. She eventually got hired as a desk worker in H.A. (Hunter's Assossiation) mainly handing out missions or intel to monster hunters.
She has a stable relationship with all of her siblings, sometimes the person everyone tells their worries to. She's nutruing and mature, but can also be quite cold and strict when need be. She is also often apathetic to things around her, something that got carried over even after she stopped being a hunter.
Harvey Pillar
Acting second oldest, Harvey is the genius of the group, or so he constantly claims himself to be. There is truth to what he says though since he works as a researcher in H.A. where he gathers information about the various mythical creatures the company had captured. Once, he used to admire this type of work until witnessing a thing or two which led him to be quite nihilistic. He's mainly just in it for the bragging rights and the money now.
Complete drama queen. Heidonistic and arrogant, he can come off as an asshole once he opens his mouth. Hannah keeps him in check most of the time. He does try to act like a big brother but struggles to be sincere about anything because he thinks it's a weakness. Very insecure, easily gets envious, especially of Howdy. For as vocal as he is, he does have many skeletons in his closet.
Howdy Pillar
A very popular hunter that is crowned The Hero of the Century, succeeding his late older brother, Howard Pillar. This is all due to his countless instances of saving people from dangerous monsters, especially feral vampires. Add this and his family background, he was made the H.A.'s face man, appearing in many interviews and posters for the company. He is quite the busy man, and Hannah usually acts as his manager, helping him with his packed schedule.
Howdy is closest with Hannah, but he also enjoys the banters he gets with Harvey. Charismatic and witty, many would think he is a perfect person, the ideal hero. The reality of it though is that Howdy is only in it for the revenge of his deceased siblings. While he smiles and acts relaxed in public, he is otherwise serious and gruff. Doesnt trust easy either. He also doesnt like how the media portrays him and would try to avoid being detected by anybody while he's on the job.
Here's a sketch lol
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Honey Pillar
The youngest of the group. She is the black sheep of the family, refusing to associate with H.A. or monster hunting in general, and choosing a career as an actress instead. Despite the controversy that came with this decision, Honey ended up becoming famous because of her alluring personality on the screen.
Aside from Hannah, she despises everyone. She hates Howdy especially because of an instance that lead to her twin sister's death and her loss of 2 arms. She hates Harvey a little less but prefers not talking to him at all. Honey is a drama queen herself, but in a less direct way.
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itssideria · 4 months
Note
Genuine question, really not sure what to do/who to vote for- uh do you have any suggestions? Protesting yes, but what now- today's like endless bad news
hey, anon.
i'm assuming you're referring to my post on the 'vote blue no matter what' gang — i wrote that in a complete (and justified) fit of anger. i should start by saying i am not american, or palestinian — i am an arab who grew up in an arab country, though, and all of us have long since grown sickened and enraged with american imperialism.
my honest answer? i don't know. i'm not american. i'm not a politician. maybe i'm some horrifically idealistic piece of shit but i just think that brazenly funding a genocide, lying about it, and then bombing the only country that tries to prevent it should earn you the death penalty, but oh well.
@/fairuzfan has posted a lot about this — she's a palestinian in the states. not tagging her bc we aren't mutuals. she has stated that she won't vote in the presidential elections at all, but rather at local levels and congress. one person has stated that they are engaging in activism more than ever, forming communities, movements, working their way up. other people will be voting for a third party candidate they agree with, such as Cornel West or Claudia de la Cruz — you can read up on their stances for yourself, i'm not active in US politics. some will threaten to withhold their vote from Biden, whether they are serious of pretending, as that may scare him into changing his tactics.
none of these are foolproof. most of them prevent nothing. i am aware that for americans this shit feels like life and death — it's what all of you say, every four years.
however, and i cannot state this enough, i am so past the point of caring. my entire region has been fucking devastated by your nation. egypt can't threaten suez access because it'll get invaded. yemen and syria and iraq are dealing with past and current bombing. the entire fucking gulf sucks your country's dick to get oil money to build vanity projects and hire more slave labour. and palestine? palestinian blood will run thick with the weight of the crimes the us committed against them.
for once in their stable, unaffected fucking lives, i want americans to pretend—pretend!—the rest of the world exists. for ONCE, i want americans to say "fuck this, he committed genocide, i will never write his name on my ballot". for ONCE, i want americans to sacrifice something, ANYTHING—you barely live under a democracy as is. poc americans report no improvement under biden compared to trump. white queer people think they'll be protected and so shout at the need to throw the developing world under the bus.
there are no good options. but dear God, just don't put the name of the man funding a genocide on your fucking ballot. it didn't save anyone four years ago. it won't now.
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ivystoryweaver · 28 days
Text
3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life
Part 1 of 4 - Knife
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Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next
Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader
Summary: Jake has been hired to assassinate you - the daughter of Chicago's most powerful and corrupt man
Or: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Word Count: 2.5k
Content: nsfw, mdni, more below the cut, READ the warnings. Dead dove - you will get what is warned!
There is no non-con in this fic, but it's dark in the sense that the reader IS in real danger from Jake. Violence, language, stalking, blood, knife play, also actual knife use - like for its intent - stabbing, danger, sexy dreams, glove kink, masturbation, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
The second time Jake saw you up close, he darkly chuckled to himself at how easy of a mark you were.
Everyone in his line of work knew who you were - the beautiful daughter of the most powerful man in the city. And your father had endless enemies.
Including the one who hired Jake to take you out. Jake's boss was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. To assassinate the most powerful mob boss' only daughter required someone removed from the situation. Someone professional. Invisible.
Jake wasn't stupid either. There wasn't enough money in this city to lure him into crossing your father.
No, this was plain, old fashioned revenge. So maybe Jake's boss was stupid - this was personal, for Jake anyway.
So tonight, as he saw you walking out of a club with your girlfriends, your inept bodyguards flanking you, he sneered.
You had style - that, Jake had to admit. Your dress fit you like a glove, but landed an inch or so longer than your obvious minions’ skirts. The girls around you were trying too hard. You didn’t have to.
They flocked to your power and your money (or your father's), but the attempt was desperate, at best.
But you held yourself with a self-assurance and something Jake had no idea he was interested in until he'd started tailing you: class.
Your eyes shone as your laughter rang out into the night. You must’ve been a little tipsy, if the glow of your cheeks was any indication.
The bodyguards - who Jake mentally referred to as Dumb and Dumber - ushered the small group of you into a waiting car.
Jake thought about it: driving you. Using his day (or night) job to get close to you. Too complicated. You had a faithful driver, well paid, who had shuttled you around the city practically all your life. Then, of course there were Dumb and Dumber and the other girls to...dispose of.
So no driving. Not this time.
You rarely ventured out alone, but Jake had discovered your quietest moments. You lived in a hotel, actually - one of your father's - in a penthouse, with, at least, adequate security.
So, no home invasion. That made Jake feel like a creep anyway, and he wasn't a creep. He was a professional.
He found the easiest access to you would likely come during one of your early morning jogs in the park, or while you liked to shop or run errands during the day.
In fact, he walked right by you just yesterday.
That was the first time he saw you up close.
You were even more beautiful up close.
Yesterday, he simply wanted to see if Dumb and Dumber would notice how close he got. He was also checking out the lack of security cameras in the park.
He had to do this right. And even then, he would flee afterward. He hated this city anyway.
Fucking Chicago. Every horrible thing in his life went wrong in this city. New York never treated him so poorly. And besides, the alter in his head preferred life across the pond. So, finishing this job would be the perfect excuse to never return.
So the next morning, he arrived in the park before sunrise. Sure enough, you came jogging round the corner, an unsafe number of strides ahead of Dumb and Dumber. Or...it was only Dumber this time. One bodyguard? Seriously, this was too easy.
All it took was a gloved hand around your mouth and a knife to your ribs to get you where he wanted you, into the dense thicket, away from prying eyes.
You struggled, but Jake’s experience won out. He used the tip of his knife to inflict the slightest twinge of pain.
"I can make this almost painless," he breathed on your ear.
You whimpered, angry with yourself for going limp in his arms as you felt the pinch of pain in your ribs.
However, you're weren't stupid either. If he wanted to kill you, he would have dragged that blade across your jugular with your mouth still covered. You would bleed out silently and he would have plenty of time to escape before your bodyguard found you.
His annoying poke to your ribs and striking up a conversation meant he wanted something else and that's why you shuddered. This was a kidnapping or an assault. Or he was a sick freak who wanted to play with his food first.
He whirled you around and pushed you up against a tree, crowding in front of you, with your mouth still covered.
The tree's bark scraped against your bare legs, but cold, dark eyes which - under different circumstances, might have captivated you - momentarily distracted you.
Distinguished nose - mouth set in a thin line, strong, square jaw with a beard - well kempt. Dark brown curls peeked out of a flat cap. He almost looked like something out of the 1930's when you really thought about it.
Which...given the circumstances, why in the hell were you thinking about his looks?
Finding your courage, you tried to speak against his gloved hand. He positioned the knife at your throat - finally a more useful spot - and breathed against your cheek. "Scream and it'll be your last word, doll."
You nodded quickly, trying to blink back the moisture in your eyes. Your father was going to end this asshole, but you might suffer mightily first.
Slowly, Jake removed his hand, keeping it close to your mouth in case you got any ideas.
"Why didn't you just cut my throat?" You gasped, your chest heaving, drawing his eyes momentarily down to the fit of your sports bra and your chest, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
"Are you offering suggestions?" One dark eyebrow shot up, almost comedically.
"It would be the quickest and quietest way," you confessed, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm just trying to see what I'm in for. You want me to beg or something? Cry? Just tell me and get it over with."
Jake chucked.
Oh. So he was a condescending asshole. Awesome.
Still, he didn't taunt you or threaten you, which probably meant ... damn it.
"Aw hell, you're a pervert then?" You scoffed. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're hoping."
That puzzled your captor, but only for a moment. " - no," he scoffed. "That's not something I have to...coerce."
You rolled your eyes, but made sure to keep still because that knife tip was starting to dig into your throat. "I'm sure you're a real catch. Just get this over with. My bodyguard will be here soon."
The corner of Jake's mouth curled. "Trust me, I'm not worried about him."
You shivered slightly, realizing he'd done his homework. "What do you want?" You managed, a little more desperately than you were hoping to sound.
"Revenge," he evenly responded
You locked eyes and saw honesty there.
You slightly nodded, swallowing hard as his breath ghosted your cheek.
"W-what did I do to you?"
Jake's eyes darkened as he pulled the blade from your throat and positioned it right over your heart.
"Your father killed my brother."
Wetting your lips, you whispered, "I'm sorry. I-I don't know anything about that."
"'Course you don't," Jake sneered. "But your father does."
"So I have to pay for your brother's life with my own?" You hurriedly reasoned. "You think that will make my father suffer the way you have? There's no way. I don't even think he loves me." Your voice was now dripping with panic, but Jake started to admire the way you fired off protests.
"Nice try," Jake scoffed. "Everyone knows you're daddy's pride and joy. You're the only way to his heart."
"Then do it," you spat. "I hate all this Criminal Minds villain discourse bullshit. Just put us both out of our misery."
"Villain?" Jake huffed. "I'm the villain? Your father has corrupted this entire city! And you benefit from every cent and every life he takes. You're the villain - both of you."
"Then what are you fucking waiting for?" You hissed, jerking against him, causing the knife to slip and slice your chest.
"Shit!" You cried out, your hands flying to cover your wound, which was only superficial, but still hurt like hell.
The gloved hand clamped back over your mouth as the knife tip dragged down your sternum to just under your ribs once more. Without hesitation, he pushed the blade into your abdomen.
You screamed into his hand, tears streaming down your face. Your body flamed with searing pain as you went limp in his arms.
"Shhh, shh, sweetheart. It's only enough to slow you down. You'll live. Promise."
And he fucking left you there.
With his knife inside you.
Oh your father was going to crucify this asshole.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
You spent hardly any time at all in the hospital - the wound was so insignificant. Still, you were stabbed so it warranted medical attention and your father was furious. He attempted to double security around you and forbade you from leaving your penthouse.
You indulged him for a day or so but you weren't one to be caged. He'd made your life enough of a living hell. You felt scared all the time, always a pressure point for him - a bargaining chip for his enemies.
You didn't tell him about the bouquet of tulips you received from your attacker, with a note that read, 'Did you keep what I left inside you?'
The next day, gardenias arrived with another note. 'I'll show you how to use it sometime.'
Okay, so maybe you were stupid. Because instead of turning the notes over to your father, or even the police (not likely), you kept them to yourself.
The most intriguing thing about this mystery man was how he was managing to get these flowers and notes past your (obviously shit) security.
You dreamed.
He's pinned you up against the tree. His gloved hand applies pressure to your throat. The tip of his knife blade traces lightly over your bottom lip, before he drags it down the smooth column of your throat. He trails down your chest, raking it between your breasts before slicing right through your sports bra. Your breasts spring free and his eyes darken. He grazes your nipple with the blade - the cool metal electrifying your peak, making it go stiff.
His grip on your throat loosens as he pushes gloved fingers up over your jaw and slips his leather clad digits into your mouth. His eyes find yours again as you obediently suck without being asked.
He pushes his fingers to the back of your throat, gagging you, which makes him smirk.
Then he surprises you by taking his hand out of your mouth and pushing the hilt of the knife into your palm.
"Hold this for me, baby," he instructs, roughly shoving his sopping wet glove - wet with your spit - into your tight leggings, slipping them between your already soaked folds.
Your hand shakes as you realize you have the power - you have the knife and you can get away. You can hurt him back, like he hurt you.
Without another thought, you jab the knife into his side, even as his gloved thumb circles your clit.
"That's my girl," he pants as blood pools and spills through his crisp, white dress shirt. You yank the knife back out, puzzled, but your brain is starting to short-circuit from the wildest fingerfucking you've ever experienced.
You try to whisper his name, wondering if he'll be okay, but you realize - you don't even know his name. You have no inkling whose fingers are stuffed inside your cunt, even as you grind down on his palm, riding his glove like a toy.
You woke up covered in sweat, slick heat pooled between your legs even as your belly filled with shame.
Without another thought, you reached into your nightstand drawer for the knife he left inside you.
You yanked your nightgown aside, gently running the cool metal over your nipples, just the way he'd done in your dream.
You shoved your fingers into your mouth, just like he had, and once they were sopping you slid them into your silky panties and rubbed your clit furiously.
"Oh god," you moaned, writhing, carefully scraping the knife across your other nipple before a nasty idea formed. You used the knife handle and pushed it down over your clit with two fingers of the opposite hand stuffed inside you.
You felt wrong - disgusted with yourself. The man wasn't being sexy - this wasn't some fantasy of a dangerous man in the woods. He had no interest in you. He threatened you - stabbed you, for fuck's sake. Who knew what else he was capable of? He could've taken advantage of your body or sliced your throat.
And now he'd sent the flowers and messages. So he was probably a stalker. This would escalate and be dragged out, just like you'd wanted to avoid.
He was probably watching you right now.
...which, to your utter shame made you feral.
You moaned so loudly, you were sure your bodyguards would rush in.
"Can you see me?" You panted, repulsed with yourself, but so close, rubbing the blunt end of the knife faster and faster over your clit as you shoved your fingers as deep as they would go.
One more thought of that horrible man plunging his knife in you and your back arched euphorically as a powerful orgasm wracked your body - as good as any with your array of top-of-the-line toys.
As you lay there panting, wondering how you would rid yourself of this shameful new obsession - masturbating to a man who wanted revenge against your father - who attacked you and honestly, showed no real interest in you - you decided you needed a way to reach him.
He was able to get to you somehow, by sending you flowers and notes.
So the next day, you instructed your staff to return a wrapped, sealed box to whomever delivered flowers, and you paid handsomely to make sure the box got back to the sender.
It may never make it to the mystery man, but you had to try.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
"I told you - you can't come back here," Jake scolded the young delivery boy.
"Sorry, mister. That lady gave me a ton of money to bring this to you."
Fortunately, Jake had met up with this little idiot on a street corner and not near where he lived, nor near his car. He also used a false name.
It was risky enough sending things to you, but you got under his skin.
He knew this was all a bad idea. His boss wanted you dead and Jake wanted his revenge for Randall.
But here he was, behaving like a pathetic stalker, sending you flowers and creepy notes, bypassing your security.
And now you sent something back?
Jake pulled the lid from the box and almost choked. It was his knife. Something had...dried on the handle, along with what he could only assume was still your blood on the blade. And there was a handwritten note.
'I came on it.'
next
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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anglingforlevels · 7 months
Text
Open House (Yandere House x Reader)
When people say the housing market is a nightmare, is this what they had in mind? (The story goes out to me because I’m trying to get an apartment and it is Suffering. Please pretend this count as yandere.)
CW: not proofread, unconventional captivity, swearing, I accidentally had too much fun writing Abby and forgot the point of the story-
Minors DNI
When you proudly had reached the saving milestone to buy a small house in the countryside, you had opted to spend some of that money on a real estate agent, figuring it was a good investment, hiring a Ms. Abby Bardot – who, over the phone, had insisted heavily on being called Abby rather than Ms. Bardot – who had twenty years of experience in the field.
Quite quickly, you realized that perhaps she wasn’t the most conventional real estate agent.
Ms. Abby, you quickly noticed at your first meeting, was all hand-wringing and nervous sweating, though she seemed sweet enough, having clutched a tin of home-cooked cookies in all shades of black and almost-not-black, and had heartily insisted you’d take as many as you’d like (which was zero).
She had insisted on bringing you to an open house for what she had called a hidden gem of a house, that it would be a private tour. To you, once she mentioned it would be at 1 p.m., it was quite obvious that “private tour” meant, “no one else has or will be showing up”.
Ms. Abby had also enthusiastically shown pictures of the place, pictures she had ready-at-the-go on her phone, presumably she really needed a buyer for the house.
“Ms. Abby.” You had said, interrupted with a small interjection of, Oh please, just Abby. “Ms. Abby, that’s not quite a house and more so a small manor. I went over my budget with you when I hired you.” Ms. Abby had quickly recovered from the rejection and puffed out her chest proudly.
“Why that’s the best part, this is within your budget!”
You had sent her a dubious look at this. “Are the pictures… How do I put this delicately? Are the pictures recent and unedited?”
Ms. Abby deflated so quickly that it almost felt impressive, almost urging you to clap as if it was a circus performance. Of course, it felt mean had you clapped at her dejected look.
“It’s well-kept, I assure you. These pictures are all recent, I’ve updated them every year for almost my entire career!” She said proudly, and you almost felt pity at the fact she didn’t seem to realize her own slip-up but instead paraded it around like a badge of honor.
Though, all-in-all you were charmed, and somewhat endeared, by the honesty. But not very much by the house at all. “I think I’d like to look at other options, it’s awfully big for just one person.”
“Ah, wait!” Ms. Abby said urgently. “Please, before we continue with other options, let’s first try out the open house this Friday.”
“Is this protocol, Ms. Abby?” Ms. Abby’s lips wobbled at this and… “Are you crying?!”
“No, I’m a professional. Real Estate Agents don’t cry, I’m simply sweating, is all.” Ms. Abby sniffled, dubbing her eyes with a handkerchief, presumably you were meant to believe her eyes were suffering heat stroke on this fine autumn day.
“…Alright, I’ll go to the open house. Just give me the address.” You eventually relented, if only to avoid seeing the pitiful sight of a teary-eyed Ms. Abby.
That’s how you ended up before a grand house out in the middle of nowhere, the closest town was an hour-long drive away. Forest and fields were most of the surroundings, which was why the house was in such stark contrast, standing as a sole presence, the forests and fields shying away to make room for it, leaving a vast vacancy around it, stretching on for at least fifty meters.
It really was a pristine house, when comparing it to the pictures, it seemed to match right down to the placement of every rock and plant in sight. As if someone had consciously placed each leaf and pebble.
The plants and trees of the garden donned vibrant colors despite the season. You wondered how often Ms. Abby came by, or if she had hired a crew for maintenance, as you could not spot even the slightest hint of dirt or spiderwebs.
The only thing that looked aged was, unfortunately, the “For Sale” sign.
It felt a little unnatural, but you chalked it up to currently being a display house, and thus not lived-in either. You took notice of the way the trees beyond the reach of the garden were withered and wrinkled, and the grass yellowy, dry patches, barely hiding the dirt beneath.
“Some more forest could really do this place some good.” You mumbled. You hesitated for reasons you didn’t fully understand before stepping beyond dead plants clinging loosely to your feet and entering the garden.
You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes the further you traveled, the door felt so far when the weight of something cloyingly attentive seemed to drag you down as if to prevent your advances.
“You’re here!” A delighted Ms. Abby yelled out before the sound of pitter-patter was interrupted by a loud thud against the door that rattled the frame. With her energy dampened, a sheepish Ms. Abby appeared behind the front door, simply saying; “It opens the other way.”
Right, something attentive could only have been the attention of the overzealous Ms. Abby.
“Come in, come in!” She invited, all but pulling you stumbling into a most decadently, lavishly decorated foyer. From distasteful stuffed animal heads to the ruby red furniture and mosaic glass tables, it felt quite uncomfortable, all sharp angles and very little homeliness to it, like an ornate display of wealth rather than a welcome into a household.
“Not very welcoming, huh?” You commented, which Ms. Abby elected not to respond to, though the small “eep” suggested she had heard the negative impression.
Looking the room over it was impossible for your eyes not to rest at the centerpiece of the foyer: A huge painting above the staircase. A solemn-looking guy stared out into the air, curly locks framing his face. Old paintings always looked miserable, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was a glint of genuine misery in his eyes. Noticing your attention had wandered, Ms. Abby followed your eyes.
“Oh, that was an owner of the house who had it commissioned back during the Renaissance, they wanted it right here, in the heart of the house.” She explained though you couldn’t say you agreed to a decadent foyer being the heart of a house, and if it was, that wasn’t boding well for Ms. Abby’s already poor sales chances.
“I’ve never understood why someone would want to pay money to look miserable in a painting, like you’re paying for it, at least make yourself smile or something.” Your jab was met with Ms. Abby’s impressive ability to carry on like you had said nothing negative at all.
“You know, the owner claimed it was a Jan van Eyck-original too.” Ms. Abby said as if letting you in on a secret, or town gossip. “Really, we’ve had it appraised.”
“And the appraiser confirmed it was a Jan van-whatever original?”
“…The owner really loved art; you’ll see plenty of paintings throughout the place.”
So that was a no. And speaking of no’s:
“Listen, Ms. Abby, I don’t exactly have the budget for a big house, as I already said. I especially don’t have the kind of budget that the kind of person who’d commission an artist to paint them for their foyer would have.”
Abby laughed nervously. “Well, you see, the value’s dropped as I mentioned. We haven’t been able to sell it for a long time, so the price just kept falling.”
“Right. But even so, it can’t have fallen that much.”
At this, Abby avoided eye contact, wringing her hands before, after a big breath, blurting it out. “The person in the painting was the last person to own the house.”
“Is this place built on top of an oilfield or something?”
Ms. Abby laughed a hearty if a bit shrill, laughter, before sighing and mumbling. “If only.” She clapped. “But! This is a charming house, why, let me show you the many rooms!”
“Ms. Abby, have you ever considered a field outside of sale?” You asked dryly but nonetheless followed along, eager to leave behind the painting, as you felt watched. The house consisted of many sprawling hallways, enough to almost make one dizzy, and you struggled to remember where everything was.
The house had many rooms, none of them particularly inviting, reading more like a historical display room lacking any warmth or heart (and perhaps even worse, any semblance of renovation despite old age), and all absolutely clustered with trinkets, knickknacks, and in the case of the walls, paintings – leaving very little free space.
It really did read like a historical display, as some rooms seemed older than others, suggesting partial renovation must have been done on some of the rooms. You’d like a word with whoever had been in charge of that lackluster, nonsensical effort.
Perhaps the lack of replaced furniture or renovation was why the house periodically seemed to creak and moan in odd ways, at times you almost confused it as Ms. Abby groaning or sighing, only to realize it was the sound of the house itself.
As for Ms. Abby, she remained undeterred regardless of how many snide remarks you made, which you had to commend her for, though the charm you initially had felt from it was quickly wearing off. Ms. Abby actually seemed increasingly happy, humming to herself. She didn’t think the sale was going well, did she?
“How much of the house is there left to see, Ms. Abby?” You asked, increasingly impatient and tired, having been dragged through an unreasonable number of rooms, which inexplicably, almost all were bedrooms (and yet, you had yet to see more than a single bathroom).
“Well, we’re still missing a couple rooms like the kitchen, oh! I know, how about the master bedroom since you’ll be spending every night there.” She said with a beaming smile.
“That’s awfully optimistic, Ms. Abby.” You noted, at this you received a good-hearted chuckle.
“Oh, this place is too lovely to pass up on, I think it likes you – it’s a match made in heaven. If you don’t like some of the features or decorations, it’s easy to change those, so it would be a waste not to live here.”
“I can’t imagine a house as empty as this holding much affection, and I’m not up for a big project.” All you wanted was a small but cozy house, a simple place. You felt exhausted just thinking about the amount of work you’d need to pour into a house like this to make it feel like home.
“Well, it’s perhaps not an easy house,” Ms. Abby admitted, her cheer at this point an unshakeable force, as a sense of confidence seemed to have sprouted in her. “But that’s why when that rare fit comes by one must take the leap and hold onto it.”
You’d feel insulted by the suggestion you were a good fit for this distasteful and unpleasant house, had Ms. Abby not already shown herself as incompetent but well-meaning. You simply sighed, giving up the conversation, figuring you’d find another real estate agent when you came home.
“Well, take me to the master bedroom then.”
Ms. Abby led you through the foyer again, the bedroom apparently at the other end of the house. Your eyes were drawn to the painting once more, its eyes felt more sunken in than before, shadows forming beneath, to which you tiredly sighed. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”
The master bedroom seemed to be at the stopping point to the sprawling hallways on the right. You were just aghast at the fact you had gone through another set of sprawling hallways, you wondered who had come up with the confusing layout of the place.
Ms. Abby tried to imitate a trumpet to build up suspense but trailed off after you shot her an impatient look. After a weak cough, she simply said “Tadaah” and opened the door.
You stopped up, your right foot hanging in the air, about to cross into the room. A sense of foreboding filled you; it was a bit different from the first time, however. The prickling sensation you felt and the cloying attention, it felt smothering, less like a shove away and more like… Being held in place.
Ms. Abby waited patiently inside the room, not commenting on your hesitation, though you had been snarky and displeased the entire tour, so perhaps this just seemed like more of that. You swallowed and ignored the pressure as you put your foot down and entered the room.
The air felt different here. You had hoped the odd sensation would disappear if you just carried on, like when you entered the house, to begin with, instead, it worsened. The air clung to you, terribly heavy and sticky. It took you a moment to actually focus enough to realize Ms. Abby had spoken, so when you finally snapped back to reality, Ms. Abby was standing in the hallway.
“-tively spellbound already. I’ll give you some time to look around and get acquainted together, one-on-one.” And then she closed the door in your face. The room was, oddly empty, compared to every other room. Nothing but a big, red bed, the empty walls that you could’ve sworn were further away when you entered, and that feeling of being watched, lodging into your skin like stitching.
Nothing except an almost empty room that didn’t feel empty enough.
That’s it. Ms. Abby had officially used up all her pity points, you were leaving. You opened the door, a tad more aggressively than what was perhaps called for, but Ms. Abby was nowhere to be seen in the hallway.
For how annoyed you were with her at this point, you found that you missed her company as you walked down the hallway, nothing distracting you from the odd sounds of the house that seemed to have increased. It felt as if the floor beneath your feet moved and rumbled slightly, the velvety carpets uneven and bumpy, as if walking on something breathing, something living.
You wished that Ms. Abby had given you the floor plans, as you struggled to remember how to return to the foyer through the hallways and occasional rooms you had to cross seemed to hold no real rhythm and didn’t feel as if it obeyed any rules about directions.
At one point you could have sworn you turned back, only to be in another room than where you had emerged from originally. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you found the foyer again. Even in your rush to find the door, your eyes were drawn to the painting, though you continued to rush by it. In your haste, it almost looked as if the painting’s colors were smudged.
You attempted to open the door but found it didn’t budge. It was an odd choice to lock the door, but you were certain that was the reason, it had to be. A locked door was no issue from the inside, but even after hearing the click of the lock, the door didn’t budge when you attempted to open it.
You attempted to kick, pry, tear, and even throw your body weight at the door, but with no luck.
Settling in the foyer after your final attempt at prying the front door open, you huffed, out of breath. You laid on the stairs, trying to settle your heart and pulse, when your eyes landed on the painting again.
…You rubbed your eyes and sat up, thinking what you had seen was owed to your tiredness and the upside-down angle, but no. The painting really did look smudged. Like someone had blurred colors and borders together, the hair’s vibrant color having lost its radiance.
And the mouth, it was oddly smudged between the lips, that it almost gave the impression of a mouth being pried open.
No, that was silly, you were being silly. The painting was smudged out, which was already creepy enough on its own, or rather, the house was already creepy enough on its own – your mind was just working overtime and was making up new things to get scared over.
“Well brain, if you like overtime, I guess I’ll have to put you to use and think of an escape. But you don’t have a union, so it’s unpaid hours for you, I’m afraid.”
If the front door was a bust, then you’d find a window. You struggled to recall any windows on the ground floor, but surely there had to be some. Or… That’s right! The kitchen, it had a glass door. You never got around to seeing the kitchen, having mainly been shown the upstairs so far, but you recalled Ms. Abby mentioning it back when she had given her pitch for why you should show up.
You hadn’t been on the left side of the house, at least not on the ground floor, so you figured that was a good direction to begin, in your search for the kitchen. You opened the door, urgency in your steps, only to find you weren’t in an unfamiliar room.
Instead, you were back in the empty master bedroom, which somehow felt much more crammed than any of the other rooms. But… That didn’t make sense. The master bedroom was upstairs, you had fought through a confusing hallway to find the foyer, so this… this didn’t make sense at all.
The air felt oppressive in the room as if your heart would be forced to a halt from the sheer weight of it, like a physical presence. This time you were sure that the walls were closer than they had been before. A bed table had been added next to the bed, and the part of you still delusional enough to hope thought maybe it meant that Ms. Abby was still around. As if this was an elaborate prank.
You tried to swallow despite how dry your mouth felt, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. This was ridiculous. You slammed the door open again, the door shaking on its hinges. Beyond the door, it revealed a hallway, but even if the hallway was confusing, you had been through it twice by now, you could do this, you could find the kitchen or a ground-floor window.
Hurrying along the hallway, it felt as if the floor and walls shifted and moved. Were you dizzy, or was this actually happening? The restrictive air of the master bedroom followed you, as you dragged yourself through.
“Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows when you opened one of the doors. You were sure this was the one you had gone through before, but the room behind was unfamiliar. Cold dread filled you as a horrible thought crossed your mind.
No, no, no. You ran to the next door but behind it was another unfamiliar room. Were the layout… Changing? Your hand trembled as you tried to open a third door, and you felt like crying when all it revealed was the master bedroom again.
A lamp now stood on top of the bed table. Were new things going to be added each time you returned to the room? You thought back to the cramped bedrooms Ms. Abby had so cheerfully shown off. You weren’t sure what to make of it but felt sick all the same.
“I don’t have time for this.” You had to snap yourself out of it. You could spiral and panic later, but for now, you needed to get out. So, turning on your heel, you returned to the hallway. You’d go through each door that didn’t lead to the master bedroom, hoping to somehow find your way downstairs.
You almost cheered audibly when you finally saw the staircase, rushing to it. Once again, as you passed it, your eyes were drawn to the painting.
The painting no longer looked the same as before, the person it had been long erased by smudged and changing lines. You couldn’t tell what it was changing into but felt your heart race with familiarity all the same.
The mouth was a gaping hole by now, outstretched awkwardly. You thought it might have been a smile, but it looked much more like a pained grimace to you.
You only took this as further encouragement to get out of there.
When you failed to find anything of use, you realized there was one room that you seemed to always find. So, as counterintuitive as it seemed, you walked upstairs again, and as confusing as the changing layout was, it didn’t take you long to find it.
You saw the familiar bed, the bed table, the lamp, and the newly added clock on the wall (which didn’t seem to be working) and closed your eyes for a moment. You took a deep breath. And then you decisively walked in to grab the lamp, shivering a bit as you brushed against a much-too-warm wall.
If you couldn’t find the kitchen or a window on the ground floor, then fuck it, you’d find one up here. Whatever broken bones or bruises you’d get from the fall, you’d accept. Finding a window upstairs proved much more doable, as one would line the walls every now and then.
You threw the lamp against the window and braced yourself for impact.
But nothing happened.
The lamp fell to the floor with a hollow thud. When you opened your eyes, you found not a single scratch on the window. So, you tried again. And again. You tried punching the window, earning nothing but a stinging fist.
Yet you continued. At some point, it became more of a tantrum, an expression of your desperation colored in violence, than an attempt to escape. Hitting the window, kicking the wall. “Why-“ you hated this house. You hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. You just wanted to leave. Your ears rang, whether it was from your headache, or the way the house’s groans and creaks had grown in severity, you didn’t know, didn’t care, couldn’t care.
Already unsteady on your feet, your final kick caused you to lose balance entirely.
Stumbling and falling onto the floor, without realizing it, you found yourself by the stairs, and face to face with the painting. Your blood ran cold as you stared into your own lifeless eyes staring down at you from above.
 
Quiet had fallen over the house like a blanket, only the slow rumble throughout the house bellied any activity. In the heart of the house rested a painting, donning a toothy smile and a certain glint in their eyes.
A satisfied Ms. Abby removed the “For Sale” sign out front and drove away with a hum.
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg
pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader
warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.
notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.
(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)
masterlist
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For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.
He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.
That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.
The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.
They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.
The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  
Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.
You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.
Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.
“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.
Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.
The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.
And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.
“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”
Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.
You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”
Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.
(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)
His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  
“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”
Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.
It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.
After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.
You were his.
All his.
His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  
One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.
“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”
But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.
“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”
“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”
So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.
And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.
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illubean · 4 months
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Hi hellooo <3 I love your blog and since I have a thing for this bug-eyed boi, I wanted to ask you to please write a headcanon or a small one-shot (whatever you are comfortable) about teenage!illumi SOMEHOWWWWW having a secret friendship and he meets reader in the forest etc :)
Assassins Don't Have Friends
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Characters: Teenager!Illumi Zoldyck Type: Fluff, oneshot, Teenager!Gn!reader
this turned out kinda long >.< idk how to feel about it tbh
Warnings: mention of human trafficking kind of?
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Illumi Zoldyck was a perfect assassin and a perfect son. He never showed fear, vulnerability, was excellent at his job and followed all the rules to a t. Or so everyone thought.
It wasn't long ago that Illumi had went on the job that would unknowingly change his life, maybe about three months give or take. He was assigned to take out a member of the mafia known for trading illegal goods. Apparently he had owed the man who hired Illumi money and had no means of paying it. He was to dispose of the target swiftly and silently.
After the job had been done the young Zoldyck somehow failed to notice the figure in the corner, who had been watching him with surprised and tired eyes. Upon realizing he was not alone, the boy was quick to pin the figure down, ready to take their life at any given moment. Now that he was up close to this person, he realized it was another kid around his age, wearing tattered and dirty clothes. The part that intrigued him most is that they didn't seem afraid of him.
The mysterious person only smiled at him, eyes softening with admiration as they spoke.
"Thank you for saving me."
The young assassin stared blankly in confusion. Saving them? All he did was his job and you just happened to be there, he didn't really try benefiting you on purpose. Illumi lowered the needle he had pointed at the persons neck, eyes narrowing before he responded.
"What are you talking about?"
"That man you killed. I was just auctioned off to him and needless to say he was a horrible man, so thank you. I'm Y/n by the way."
Illumi got off of Y/n, turning around to leave before speaking up once more.
"I didn't kill him for you, I was doing my job. I should kill you too for being a witness, but I'll let you go this once."
The Zoldyck boy began to embark on his journey back home before he heard footsteps running to catch up to him.
"I never caught your name? Who are you anyway?"
He continued to walk, not once turning to face Y/n.
"Quit following me."
"But I have nowhere to go-"
"I don't care where you go, just get away from me."
It was silent for a few moments as the teens continued to walk. Y/n ignored Illumi's demands as they neared a path that stretched through a vast forest. At the end of the trail there was a large mountain. Illumi knows he shouldn't have led this stranger so close to his home, but something inside him wouldn't let him push them away.
"You still haven't told me your name. Are you like a secret spy or something? Geez we've been walking for so long- don't tell me we have to walk all the way up that mountain!"
The young assassin stopped when they got to the base of the mountain, causing Y/n to run into his back with a small 'oof'.
In front of them was a large stone wall with metal doors in the center.
"This is as far as I can allow you to get. I shouldn't have let you follow me for so long but frankly you don't pose any threat."
"Aww, I think you just let me follow you so far because you like me! Noowwww can I finally know the name of my new friend?"
Y/n smiled at the stoic male in front of them, blinking and awaiting a response.
"Assassins don't have friends, now leave."
Illumi approached the seven large doors of his home and began to push them open before pausing.
"It's Illumi."
He entered through those doors while Y/n stood confused for a few moments before realizing.
That was his name.
While the doors were closing he heard a voice yell from the opposite side.
"Okay Mr assassin! I'll come back here here every day to see you!"
{Pov switch? kinda?}
And that's exactly what you did. Every day for about a week you showed up at the foot of the mountain, sometimes convincing Zebro to call the butlers quarters.
After Illumi found out about this, he finally went down to meet them. This time you looked much cleaner, holding a small basket with a cloth over it.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I told you I would visit every day, didn't I? Oh, and this is for you. I managed to make a little money by fighting so consider this as a "thank you'. Y'know, for killing that guy?"
You held out the basket, gesturing for the boy in front of you to take it. He lifted the cloth to reveal some baked goods underneath. Illumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You can't keep trying to call the house. I told you assassins don't have friends."
"Welllll can't you make an acception for little ole me?" you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. "It could be our little secret!"
Without a word, Illumi grabbed one of your wrists and began walking into the forest surrounding his home. He stopped as the both of you came to a clearing, sitting down against the trunk of a tree.
"You're annoyingly stubborn."
You only smiled before sitting down next to him, reaching into your basket and pulling out two custard buns.
"Well it seems to work," you started, offering him one of the buns. "We're friends now, after all."
Illymi accepted the sweet treat with a sigh and ended up sitting there with you for hours. At some point you had both agreed to meet there once a week.
After these visits Illumi began developing a soft spot for you. He anticipated the days you would show up and the time you got to spend together.
Maybe he wasn't a perfect son.
He had secretly been seeing you without his family knowing and you were beginning to break down those walls of his.
Maybe he wasn't the perfect assassin.
Because after all, assassins don't have friends.
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