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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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suhsweet · 15 days

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perv!mingyu ⟡ kmg

wc: 731 | pair: perv!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: roommates au, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: mingyu is PERVERTED, panty stealing, dirty thoughts, mingyu spies on the reader

summary: when your roommate mingyu is a filthy, dirty pervert obsessed with you

authors note: maybe i'm a freak, but i literally thought that mingyu uploaded a pic of himself sniffing either socks or underwear. this is a really short drabble. wrote this in an hour. i might write more about perv!mingyu :) i told y'all that this blog is really self-indulgent...

Mingyu can’t remember exactly when his obsession with you began. One day, you were his roommate. The next, you were the star of all his fantasies. He’s had plenty of roommates before you, but you were different.

Maybe it's the fact that he knows what you sound like when you’re touching yourself. He knows you only do it when you’re the only one at home, where you can freely vocalize your pleasure without being embarrassed by anyone listening in. Except, that is exactly what Mingyu does.

If he tells you that he’ll be back from the gym by eight pm, he’s actually home at 7 and listening to you use your fingers to pleasure yourself. He tells you that he’s going to be at work until six, and comes home at five-fifty to hear the tail end of your orgasm.

Most of Mingyu’s nights are spent leaning against the wall your rooms share, pathetically fisting his swollen cock in his palms. His head would be pressed against the wall, his ears straining to find your moans. If he’s bold enough, he’s right outside your door with his dick out, where it’s significantly easier to hear you.

Right after you cum, he loudly opens and closes the front door to the apartment, hollering, “I’m home!”

He listens to you stumble around your room before you peek your head out. With your hair a mess, and eyes wide, Mingyu finds your flustered state so cute. He prevents a smug smirk from appearing when you innocently ask him how his day was.

He’s well aware that it would take only three strides of his long legs to reach your room. He’s also certain you didn’t have enough time to wipe your fingers clean of your essence. The idea that while you’re smiling innocently at him, behind the door your fingers are coated in your cum drives him insane. It takes everything in him not to burst into your room, take your hand in his, lick your fingers clean, and then make another mess of your pussy.

Mingyu’s perverted habits have been ongoing for several months. Mingyu was too far gone to feel any sense of guilt at this point. Not when you didn’t have to know. Not when he stole a pair of your panties from your laundry hamper while you were out with your friends.

He tries to use it sparingly to preserve your scent. He pulls it out on the occasions where he is so horny that his imagination cannot satiate his needs. It’s erotic, Mingyu thinks, that he’s using your panties while jerking himself off without your knowing.

He’s flat on his back, in the centre of his bed with the sheets pushed to his ankles. His room is plunged into darkness aside from the bedside lamp that illuminates his filthy act of perversion with a warm glow. He has his eyes closed whilst imagining the sight of you seated on his lips. He imagines his nose is buried in your delicious pussy, not the fabric of your underwear. His free hand grips his cock fiercely.

His mind presents him the image of you gripping his dark locks, your hips rotating as you grind into his mouth. His tongue is expertly drawing circles around your clit, the pressure of it so perfect that he brings to you an orgasm that is so shattering that you threaten to fall off of him. His arms would lock around your thighs like a vice. His eyes would look up at you, telling you everything that his occupied mouth can’t. His puppy eyes would be imploring, begging for more. His gaze would track your every movement, every rise and fall of your chest, every ‘o’ your mouth forms, every time your eyes clench shut when he sucks on your pussy.

And when you’re finished with his mouth, you’d come off of him, and clean up the mess you made by licking your release off of his lips. You two would make out as a result, messy and slick with saliva and cum.

While his imagination goes wild thanks to your used panties, Mingyu struggles to keep in the pitiful whine that threatens to leave his throat. He doesn’t want to wake you up. You’re obliviously sleeping on the other side of the wall, unaware that your pervert roommate is thinking such depraved thoughts about you.

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #svt #svt smut #svt imagines #mingyu imagines

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nereidprinc3ss · 24 days

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Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes.

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening.

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip.

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed.

“Why not?”

“’Cause I want you to be awake.”

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks.

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment.

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes.

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead.

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling.

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face. “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair.

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously.

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone.

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes.

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe.

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating.

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily.

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them.

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch.

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips.

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills.

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you.

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already.

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine.

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin.

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying.

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom.

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you.

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off.

Maybe even especially then.

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth.

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out.

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp.

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic.

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit.

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more.

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back.

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon.

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation.

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense.

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name.

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system.

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again.

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin.

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows.

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts.

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once.

“Handles! Duh!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic

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livinginshambles · 3 months

Text

Preview: You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in a relationship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Sorry for the long break I took, but I aced all my exams, so it was definitely worth it :) Enjoy this preview for now, I love you guys! Also, not proofread, blah blah.

If you want to be tagged, you have to tell me in the comments, or send a dm/ask, specifying which story.

Full fic

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All you could manage was a bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words. “You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,” he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortable as time passed uncomfortably in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this new information?

You looked him back in his eyes. “I’m going to go,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it tomorrow, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “You can go, but you don’t have to come back. I won’t apologize tomorrow anyway.” James turned around and faced his back at you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway. You always do. At least you’re easier than her.”

Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep.

Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

Full fic

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter fic #marauders era #marauders #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction

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sanakiras · 2 months

Text

HEAVEN

PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.

TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)

♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx

NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁

like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.

stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.

though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.

and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.

it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—

you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.

wonwoo is cute when he smiles.

and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.

a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.

he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.

the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.

with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.

and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.

yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.

normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.

because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.

maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.

but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.

though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.

it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.

the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.

the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.

and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.

so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.

the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.

“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”

he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.

“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?

“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”

but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”

all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.

jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.

so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.

you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.

the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.

“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.

“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.

you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.

“fuck, really?”

“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”

he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.

for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.

his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.

you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.

“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.

unfortunately for him, you do.

with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. "what if i want you to?"

“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.

of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.

so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.

discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.

“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”

a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.

you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.

the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.

“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.

he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.

it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.

it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”

there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.

once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“i’m that good, huh?”

“yeah.”

“wanna keep going?”

“mhm.”

“okay. take off your shirt.”

wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.

if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.

he feels good.

especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.

his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.

“where do you keep your condoms?”

the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.

thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.

his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.

the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.

wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”

you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”

once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.

you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”

“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.

“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.

so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”

he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.

then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.

“have you thought about this? fucking me?”

despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.

“yeah, i did.”

“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?

wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”

his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.

“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”

he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”

teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.

“yeah? try me.”

“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”

“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”

that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.

his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”

“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.

he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.

the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.

“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.

once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.

burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.

he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”

god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.

“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.

“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.

then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.

he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.

surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.

“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.

“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”

“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”

you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”

he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.

“... yeah.”

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt ff #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut #svthub #jeon wonwoo fanfic #original post

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romaritimeharbor · 2 months

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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

#✧— aphe's creations.#divider by @/cafekitsune ♡#bonus: elio is your weird uncle that shows up on holidays gives you credits and tells you enigmatic secrets /hj /lh #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kafka x reader #blade x reader #silver wolf x reader #platonic hsr #platonic honkai star rail #hsr platonic #platonic x reader #platonic kafka x reader #platonic blade x reader #platonic silver wolf x reader

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eupheme · 21 days

Text

— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope.

You hadn’t.

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure.

It doesn't fucking matter.

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you.

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy.

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic.

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat.

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals.

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in.

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you.

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together.

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound.

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you.

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough.

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead.

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber.

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones.

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into.

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them.

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm.

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs.

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free.

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest.

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again.

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way.

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye.

You both know how this will go, when you get back home.

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart.

Maybe he’d show.

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after.

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart.

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge.

No one was coming for you.

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin.

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him.

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls.

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below.

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience.

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret.

Comin' after a girl then, too.

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind.

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago.

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back.

But he's never much liked being underground.

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through.

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that.

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you.

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons.

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow.

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet.

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth.

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently.

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all.

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away.

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation.

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes.

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after.

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck.

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down.

Hold on , he thinks.

I’m coming.

His whistle echoes in the chamber.

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him.

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery.

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death.

It rankles him, teeth set on edge.

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice.

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember.

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that.

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck.

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice.

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers.

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back.

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been.

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you.

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him.

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor.

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash.

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires.

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second.

Always too goddamn slow.

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado.

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired.

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door.

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him.

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back.

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast.

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought.

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long.

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices.

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat.

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched.

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments.

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal.

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting.

He had blown through them like it was nothing.

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower.

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement.

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head.

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs.

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did.

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you.

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years.

You’re not able to resist.

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw.

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering.

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer.

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands.

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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luvjunie · 8 months

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— less is more

pairing: e-42!miles morales x fem!reader

contains: some tears, a little misunderstanding but a fluffy ending

summary: miles makes quite a bit of cash from his jobs, and with his love language being gift giving he often likes to spend a lot of it on you. however, you didn’t grow up with much, and this makes it especially hard for you to accept such expensive things from him without feeling overwhelmed. wc: 1,224

a/n: based off this request! some people might find this reader easier to relate to so i definitely wanted to write it

Gifts were something that came with the territory of dating Miles Morales. Big bouquets, flashy accessories, shopping sprees at the mall, and probably every single stuffed animal he’d ever caught you eyeing whenever the two of you went out. If you so much as looked at it, it was on your fire escape the next morning. At this point, you had so many on your bed that you were starting to run out of room to sleep.

And you knew he meant well, and you tried your best to enjoy it the way you imagined you should but it was all so foreign to you. Your life was much different before you met him, and it was more along the lines of nervously checking your bank account to see if you had enough cash to buy a five dollar starbucks drink to ‘treat yourself’, or if you’d have to wait till next week’s paycheck for blended coffee with some whipped cream on top.

Most of your clothes were hand-me-downs from your older siblings, or duds you’d secured from the Salvation Army a few blocks down on the colored-tag sale days, and that was the way you liked it. Humble beginnings is where you came from and humble was the way you intended to keep it.

So now as you stared down at the small jewelry box in your hands, Tiffany & Co embellishing the top in silvered letters, trepidation began coursing through you at the size of the box alone. Anything that came in a tiny package such as the one you were holding was bound to cost more than anything you’d ever managed to buy yourself. You realized you must have been lost in thought as you sat gawking at the untouched gift, because your boyfriend’s voice sounded like it was underwater the first few times he called out to you.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You blinked, looking up at Miles from where you were seated on his bed to see him leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Go ‘head and open it, don’t leave me hanging.” Miles joked, brows bunched slightly in confusion.

“Oh— right,” you laughed half-heartedly. Swallowing hard, you gently pried the small box open with hesitant fingers to reveal the prettiest diamond necklace you think you’ve ever seen. Light glinting off the encrusted jewel, Miles waited with bated breath as he watched your hand tremble towards it, a choked inhale catching in your throat as you felt the weight of the pendant alone.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“How much was this?” Your throat felt tight; uncomfortably so, like the air in the room suddenly wasn’t the kind you were meant to breathe.

Miles glanced to the side for a moment, then stood up straighter. “I mean, I paid for it if that’s what you’re asking...”

“How much was this, Miles?” Voice trembling when you spoke, you asked again but louder, and this time he knew you actually wanted an answer.

Confused because he didn’t take you for the materialistic type, he racked his brain for the memory of the total the clerk had read out to him and scratched his forehead.

“Like… three hundred and some change…maybe? Probably four? I don’t remember. Why does this matter?” He let out a peeved sigh, eyes widening as he watched your shoulders start to shake.

“Ay, mi amor, ¿que pasa? (what’s wrong, my love?)” Miles asked gently as he rushed to sit next to you, taking the jewelry box from your loose hold. He looked down at it disappointedly, lips pursing at the necklace he’d spent so long picking out. He thought you would’ve loved it. “You don’t like it? I can get you somethin’ better—“

“No, Miles. I… It’s perfect.” Warm tears rolled past your waterline and you wiped them away in a rush, aggravated that you were even crying in front of him about something like this. How could you explain yourself without sounding ungrateful or confusing him even more?

Miles licked at his dry lips as he tried to think of what to say. He was usually so good at reading your body language, but this time he was completely lost. You could see it on his expression when you looked at him that he was having a hard time understanding what was going on, and it only made you cry harder.

“No entiendo… (I don’t understand…)” He set the box down next to him and took your hands into his, head lowered to try and meet your averted gaze. “I’m lost.. If it’s perfect, then what’s wrong?”

You inhaled a wavered breath, the feeling of his thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands serving as encouragement for you to go on.

“I just…” taking a breath, your shoulders shrugged weakly. “You spending money on me like this, I— It feels like I’m using you. You should be spending your hard earned money on things for yourself, or… saving it for better things, not spending it on me.”

“Money is nothing to me when it comes to you.” he denied immediately.

“I know, and that’s the problem.” Your lips trembled, but thankfully you were able to prevent more tears from coming.

“Y/n, I—“

“Just, please. Let me finish.” You pleaded quietly, looking up to see him slowly nod at you. “I love you, Miles, and that means I love everything you do for me as well. But I’m not used to things like this.” you looked in the direction of the overturned jewelry box. “It’s a lot.”

Silence filled the space around the two of you. You felt incredibly guilty for even bringing it up, it was never your intention to make him feel this way. There was an energy shift and you could sense him regressing back to the version of him that once didn’t know how to express his love for you.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured simply. He didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t even understand, but he offered it to you anyway.

“No no no, Miles,” You guided his doleful eyes back to you with a hand on his cheek, your tone sincere. “I love the way you love me, really, I do. You don’t have anything to apologize for. It’s not your fault— I’m just not that kind of girl and I don’t know if I ever will be. But the way I grew up and the things I’m used to have nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me, okay?”

He frowned slightly. “So… No more gifts, then?”

You shook your head. “Giving me nice things is how you show your love towards me, I know that, and it would be unfair for me to take that from you. I’d be crazy to not appreciate how you’re always thinking of me wherever you go.”

Chewing on your thoughts, you contemplated the best way to give your answer.

“Okay, so it’s like this,” you sat up a bit. “You could give me a rock, and I’d cherish it like it was the best thing in the entire world, simply because you gave it to me. What I’m trying to say is how expensive the gift is doesn’t matter, all that matters is that my wonderful—“ your head dipped to meet his avoidant eyes. “caring, and thoughtful boyfriend got it for me. I don’t care about the money, I only care that it came from you.”

Miles brightened a little at that, and started to put things together after your explanation. “So, I can still get you nice things, but… less is more?”

A melancholic smile touched your lips before you pecked his cheek. “Less is more.”

He picked the small jewelry box up from the bed. He understood you completely now, but was still a bit bummed. “Does that mean I have to return this?”

You immediately shook your head. “Of course not, baby. I love it, and I think it’s beautiful. Just keep what I said in mind for next time, okay?” He nodded and you turned your back towards him so he could put it on for you.

“Good, cause I kinda lost the receipt.” Miles smiled coyly at the slightly shaky laugh that sounded from you as he unclasped the necklace, draping it over your chest and fastening it.

You peered down at the gorgeous piece around your neck, gently gracing over it with your fingertips. Your heart warmed at the thought of him picking it out for you, how he spotted something this beautiful and needed you to have it. You had to admit, it was absolutely stunning and you didn’t think you’d be taking it off any time soon. Even if the price of it had almost sent you into shock, you were more than grateful to have a boyfriend like him.

“Thank you, Miles. I love it, really.” You faced him once again with your confession, the sincerity laced in your tone accentuating the adoration in your eyes. Your hand caressed the apple of his cheek, it raising when he smiled contently and leaned into your palm. “But I love you, more.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#miles morales fanfiction #miles morales fic #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black reader #miles morales x fem!reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x black reader #earth 42 miles x reader

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jj-one · 1 month

Text

𝑪𝑹𝑨𝒁𝒀, 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑷𝑰𝑫, 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 🎬 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

PT. 1 / please read part 1 before continuing, this won’t make sense as a stand alone !

The model life has never crossed your mind but the moment Jungkook laid his eyes on you he knew you were perfect. He was willing to go great lengths to get you on board, even developing a connection with you that could ultimately lead to one of you getting hurt.

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ modeling scout!jungkook ˒˓ model!f!reader ˒˓ strangers to enemies to lovers, jk is in his early 30's and reader is early 20's genre/tags. angst, (some) fluff, a lot of smut, cheating, mentions of past trauma, small mentions of alcohol and drug usage, mentions of y/n crying, themes of anxiety and depictions of panic attacks, oral (m & f receiving), katoptronophilia, daddy kink, public sex, you give jk road head lol, piv, unprotected sex (we should know by now that this is wrong!), left y’all with a bad cliffhanger yet again lmao i can’t help it words. 14.6k

A blank stare is met with you from your confrontation. The man who you thought you knew, was now standing over you with the most dumbfounded look.

“Wh— what do you mean, y/n?” Jungkook asks, arching his brows in confusion, you wished it was easier for you to handle this.

As much as you envisioned yourself doing so, you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to face the man in front of you. Your flight or fight instincts were starting to kick you into flight mode since you didn’t have much fight left within you. What’s the point anymore? It was only going to end in disaster anyway, as most do your attempts at finding happiness do.

“I really think you should just leave now Jungkook…” your voice trails off as you look at the ground, unable to bear him a clear answer to your sudden awkward behavior. That voicemail of his wife kept replaying in your head, you wanted to breakdown and cry, the woman sounded so sweet and was probably such a good wife to him. Though, you don’t know for certain what goes on behind the scenes, she seemed like a nice person, it just made you feel more shameful. You felt awful for possibly being a home-wrecker now, and it’s only making you want him out of your sight even more.

“But what do you mean by the truth? Talk to me y/n, I would never lie to you I-”

You cut him off instantly, snapping at him for the last line, which was obviously another blatant lie. “Please get the fuck out and just let me process this or it’s going to get really ugly!”

You didn’t mean to growl at him like that at the end, turning more hostile by the second, but you were practically at your wits end with him right now. The constant lying was just too much, you don’t even know what the truth is anymore.

“I’ll go, but can you at least just tell me what I did wrong this time? I’m so confused by you y/n, why are you always like this?” He was so clueless and unfazed of the fact that you didn’t even know his biggest secret, it made you want to scream at him more.

“Why am I like this? Why are you like this?! Do you not foster a guilty conscience at all? You should feel sick for cheating on your wife!” You couldn’t hold it in anymore, there’s no going back from this and now he’s forced to come clean.

Once finally addressing the elephant in the room the air was filled with complete, utter silence. His more collected and calm demeanor instantly shifts from before, pausing for a moment and breaks his steady eye contact with you. You knew immediately once you drop that information he wouldn’t be able to face you with such confidence.

“How…did you…even figure that out?” The look on his face was priceless as his dirty laundry has been finally aired out. His mouth wide open with shock, his body tensed up from the panic settling in, already knowing how bad this situation could ensue.

“You shouldn't leave your phone lying around, idiot.” You point to his phone that’s still on the ground, “maybe take it in the shower with you next time, you cheating liar!”

“W-wait back up, you went through my phone? That’s not cool y/n!” Jungkook’s face was beet red from embarrassment and now yours was too. You both got called out for doing bad things but his ‘bad thing’ is much more extreme and serious than yours will ever be.

“She called you like eight fucking times, I thought it could’ve been one of your clients or something!”

Jungkook kept pacing around your room still in disbelief of it all, the only word he could muster up was a simple “wow…” His silence was saying a lot right now and from the looks of it he wasn’t going to give you much further explanation. Even so, it wouldn’t be enough for you to forgive him, he’s not only hurt you but his innocent wife, that’s unforgivable in your eyes.

“I want you out of my apartment now!” Raising your voice several more octaves, you open your bedroom door to let him freely walk out but he tries one last time in attempt to plead with you.

“Please, y/n I can explain if you let me..”

“What the fuck is there to explain?” You scoff, annoyed by his efforts, “the explanation is already right there!”

“I’m going to be fully honest with you now, okay? I’ve been with my wife for 3 and a half years and it’s probably been the worst mistake of my life. My parents basically forced me into this marriage to begin with. I didn’t have much of a choice, I never loved her— I don’t even know why I ended up stayed for this long. I’m trying to get a divorce soon, i’m filing the papers next week and we’re technically already separated as I’ve told her many, many times how this isn’t going to work. At this point it’s strictly for appearances that we’re still “together” …she’s an actress so I need to make sure I don’t ruin her public image with a messy divorce or any bad scandals.” He finishes his explanation and you were now even taken more aback by everything.

How come just didn’t say any of this beforehand? It would’ve saved him a lot of trouble than just waiting for you to find out, because even the sneakiest people have to face their consequences eventually. You don’t know the whole gravity of the situation nor how much say he had in this marriage but him talking so casually about divorcing his wife wasn’t sitting right with you. You didn’t fully understand everything but one thing you knew for sure was that he’s the world’s biggest liar. From the moment you met Jungkook he has been doing nothing but lying and keeping this giant secret from you. It didn’t matter how complex it was, the fact that he couldn’t just be up front about his relationship status made you more angry, made you feel more stupid for falling for him. You were definitely not someone with the highest moral compass and you probably wouldn’t have judged him had he have been honest, maybe you’d save yourself the pain and not have slept him— but now that more feelings are involved, you feel trapped.

“You truly disgust me, that’s really all I have left to say.” Once again attempting to kick the man out of your apartment but he begs you to hear him out, holding the door in place to eventually shut it closed behind him.

“Look, I know how bad this sounds and you have every right to be angry with me y/n, but everything’s just so…complicated right now..” He reluctantly continues, “I do regret you had to find out this way, but as I said before I don’t love her anymore— if I ever did honestly. I’d just like to move on… possibly with you once everything gets finalized.”

You’re unsure to believe if Jungkook really does have genuine feelings for you or if you’re just another one of his many pawns. If he was capable of lying to you for so long then pretty much anything else was on the table.

“Jungkook, do you not realize how shitty I feel for doing all of this? This was all practically my fault, if I didn’t invite you over this would’ve never happened and I—”

“Absolutely none of this is your fault y/n? All the blame is on me, you don’t owe her any loyalty. I’m the one who made the decision at the end of the day. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just didn’t know how to bring it up…which is why I kept denying my feelings to deter you from even trying to pursue me, I really tried to keep it strictly business but you were making it so hard for me to resist.”

It all made sense to you now. Those moments he’d act like a complete jerk to you for no reason, those were the times he wanted you the most. It’s crazy to think that his plan would actually end up having the opposite effect on you, but you do tend to gravitate towards toxic behaviors because that’s all you knew for most of your life.

“Is this what you were so scared of?” You ask, finally mustering up the courage to face him once again, “I’m an understanding person, I wouldn’t have judged if you told me... I just don’t appreciate you lying to me, please promise to never do that again.”

Jungkook takes both your hands in the palms of his, slowly parting his lips to speak, “I won’t lie to you again y/n, I promise. You have my every word on that.” He solemnly swears, you really wanted to believe what he was saying but you felt indifferent. There was still a heavy, cinder block weight on your shoulders.

“Also…we kinda have a shoot in less than 5 hours and we really need to get going soon.” Jungkook changes the subject to work now, you almost completely forgot that this man was still your modeling agent and boss.

“Fuck.. I really have to do a shoot today?!” You were definitely not in the mood to see or interact with anyone. You wanted to keep talking to Jungkook about where you both stand, the more clarity you get the better, but work is starting to interfere with this now.

Simply sighing and nodding your head to his pleas for you to go through with this shoot, you grab a few things quickly to leave your apartment with him.

A raging headache was beginning to induce your brain. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how bright these vanity lights on the mirror are. To keep you somewhat relaxed you close your eyes while the person styling your hair puts tiny strands in neat sections. Your mind kept racing and all you could think about was your earlier confrontation with Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since you got here, your phone was dead because your idiotic self forgot to charge it last night and now had no one to talk to. Everything about this situation was eating you up from the inside and it was becoming even harder to act completely normal.

When your hair was done a new stylist came in to do your makeup, they brought a huge makeup kit and started with your brows. This was your life now, sitting in a chair like an achromatic robot for hours on end getting the most tedious things done after the next. You weren’t the best at sitting still for long periods of time and this job consisted of mostly that/being on your feet all day, it was tiring but you had to remain focused.

Jungkook was now making you take classes to perfect your model walk since he wants you to partake in this fashion show for his new campaign. He wants you to be the opening for the show but you were really nervous about that idea, you don’t like all the attention drawn on you. You’ve never pictured yourself being on a stage in front of loads of people, let alone the most important fashion moguls in the industry— it was never your vision but Jungkook had other plans for you.

He would always say how someone as beautiful as you deserved to be seen on billboards, front covers of magazines, and so much more. He actually believed in you, more than anyone else did in your entire life and that’s why you continued to stay with him. He knows exactly how to make you feel adored, like you’re the only person in the whole world.

When the makeup artist was finally finished with your look, another person came in. This time however, it was your new favorite person from work to see you now. It was see your personal stylist Yeonjun who came walking through the door, meeting you with open arms to give him a big hug. You were glad to finally see one of your work friends since you didn’t have very many, you mostly talked to Yeonjun or Jungkook if you needed something. Yeonjun had bright pink hair now and it surprisingly suited him really well, you complimented his new look and he flashed you the sweetest smile.

“Thanks my dear, how’ve you been y/n?” He cheerfully asks, taking a few garments off some racks and setting them aside.

“I’ve been alright…I guess I just have a lot on my mind right now.” You admit, hoping he’d take the bait by asking you what’s wrong.

To no surprise, he follows up your response with “what’s on your mind hun?” And gives you his full undivided attention.

It wouldn’t take long for you to spill everything, you had to at least tell someone else to get an outside perspective. The tears were slowly rolling down your cheeks as you finished your story, quickly wiping them away so you don’t ruin the stylist’s hard work on your makeup, waiting for Yeonjun to react. You look up at his face and he looked in complete shock since he probably wasn’t expecting to hear this at all.

“Well this is messy as hell, I mean— you haven’t even been a model for 2 weeks and you’re already sleeping with your boss? No wonder he doesn’t let anyone around you!” He playfully jokes, “but in all seriousness, this is kind of insane. I personally wouldn’t know what to do if I was in your position…”

You appreciated his honesty. You know your situation wasn’t quite easy and the more entangled you got, the more messy it becomes. You have your own selfish reasons for wanting to stay with Jungkook too. You wanted to see how far this modeling career could actually take you, thinking about your life before and after you met Jungkook. Before him, you were working at a convenience store, living off below minimum wage, and close to getting evicted with no place to go but after you met him all of those things seemingly went away in an instant. The only downside of this situation was that the man you were slowly falling in love with was married and had a family. That’s the part you can’t ignore and it crushed you deep inside, but the outweighing factors were starting to make you want to turn a blind eye.

“We can talk more about this later y/n, but we really have to get you in these clothes so that you make it in time on set, plus I’m not trying to get yelled at.” Yeonjun politely expressed, he knows how much you’re not feeling up to all this but his motivating attitude helps you get through it.

You huff, “okay, fine.”

The dress you were wearing was a size way too small for you, it was digging so deep into your rib cage you felt like you were going to faint at any moment. The dress was insanely beautiful but it made you barely even able to sit down properly. The mini dress you had on was a dark red, velvet material, it was striped with floral accents, ruffles lined the hem and the sleeves were puffy with lettuce trim. You wore black see-through stockings with knee high 5-inch stiletto boots and the pain shooting from the back of your feet was excruciating. Though the outfit was absolutely stunning you were beyond uncomfortable, you had no idea how you were going to walk in this on set.

“Yeonjun this dress is cutting off my circulation…” you tell him while standing awkwardly, wanting to get this dress off of you immediately.

“It’s just for a photoshoot y/n, it may not be the most comfortable but it’ll only last for 20 minutes I believe in you!” He gives you a mini pep talk to help you through your discomfort and it slightly puts you at ease to fake it until you make it.

You know that this was the price of becoming a model and sometimes pain is the cost of beauty, you just have to suck it up for now and get it over with. Trying to walk in a straight line was a task in itself since the back of your heels kept jabbing into your skin, you know you’re going to get a crazy blister after this. Yeonjun holds your hand to help you balance yourself and you felt more embarrassed that he had to help keep you from falling.

“This is not what I signed up for when I thought I’d be doing this…” you say while walking carefully to the other studio.

“I’m sure none of us do love,” Yeonjun’s face scrunched as he chuckles, making your way over to the set where everyone else was now.

The set was full of people, everyone had a designated job to do something. All the models were lined up at the front waiting for their turn for photos to be taken while multiple photographers took shots of others models in the center. There were more models in the corner getting touch ups, staff handing out water bottles and refreshments, directors giving instructions, the whole thing was an orderly chaos. Once you got to the front, you were told by a director to stand in the line next to all the other models and wait for your photos to be taken. You sigh heavily as you head up to all the women who were now all looking at you.

Some of them didn’t look very friendly, you felt as though you were being silently judged. You were the new girl and no one even knew who you were. Your thoughts went racing again as before, you were feeling like you didn’t deserve to be here. These women looked way more qualified to do this job than you, you were so amazed at how gorgeous everyone looked. You know you’ll have to get used to it eventually since you’ll practically be around beautiful people your entire career.

You hear a familiar voice on the set and you finally see Jungkook since the morning you had both left.

“I thought we agreed that we were going to get the bigger piano for this shoot? Why am I still seeing the same ones from before?!”

“Sorry boss, but you told us that it was too out of budget so we-”

“For fucks sake, I don’t give a shit about the budget anymore, this looks cheap and tacky, we can’t have this. Call the call guy up to bring the bigger one, NOW!” He continues his tirade, “also, why is y/n in the back? I told you as soon as she arrives she needs to be placed first!” He comes up to you and puts his hands on your shoulders, you tensed up immediately from his minor touch.

No one else in here besides the two of you know what happened last night and the awkwardness of it all is killing you inside. He was acting as if everything was completely normal and it kind of infuriated you. Jungkook places you to the front of the line and all the other models watch as he took your hand in his. You could just feel the eyes being glued on you, if looks could kill you’d be in a coffin, six feet under by now. Some of the other models sneered at you while you simply walked to the front to wait for your photos to be taken.

When it was now your time to go Jungkook politely asks you to come sit on a chair. You try your best to sit as comfortably as you can in this tight dress but you feel even more suffocated from sitting down. All you could do in this moment was simply hope for the best.

“Sit with your legs crossed y/n,” Jungkook positions you to do a pose for the photographer and you comply. You cross your legs and do a natural pose with your arms, the photographer snaps a photo immediately. The constant flash of the camera lights were giving you another headache, this job is so exhausting. Jungkook spoke to you in such a soft tone when instructing you to pose, he’s usually a very stern and sometimes vindictive boss with most people, but with you he’s the most gentle person. He almost babies you in a way, he treats you differently because he knows how fragile you are. It felt much longer than 20 minutes like Yeonjun said, but once you were done you got up instantly to feel like you can somewhat breathe again. All you can think about is getting out of these uncomfortable but beautiful clothes.

“You did such a great job as always y/n, so perfect. Thank you!” The photographer compliments you once he’s done.

“Isn’t she just amazing?” Jungkook chimes in, “I can’t believe I discovered her, such a rare gem in today’s society.” He looked at you with such pride, he took pride in all of his achievements but this one meant more to him. You were flustered by Jungkook’s comment in front of the photographer, if only he knew why he thought you were so amazing. Jungkook hands you a water bottle and you take it from his hands thanking him politely. A part of you was still angry with him but you knew it wasn’t worth being petty over right now. You didn’t want to throw off the vibe in front of all these people so it was best to pretend as if there’s nothing going on between you two. You were about to leave so you can head back to your dressing room and take these clothes off but Jungkook slips a piece of paper in your hand behind your back. He mumbled something under his breath but you couldn’t understand it, looking at the crumbled note with messy handwriting in black ink:

‘Meet me upstairs in the dressing rooms in 5’

You look up and Jungkook was already gone. You were now left alone in a room full of people, you know why he wants you there but the fact he did this so blatantly was beyond you. Making sure no one was suspicious of you, you make your way up the stairs to go to the dressing rooms. It didn’t take long for you to reach your destination, Jungkook was already waiting for you inside. You slam the door behind you and now standing in front of him again but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him this time. The tension between you two felt different now that you were alone again, all professionalism out the door.

“I know what you brought me here for but we still need to talk and-”

Jungkook cuts you off, “what else is there to talk about y/n? I’ve already told you everything. I don’t know what more you want from me, I brought you up here to make up for my behavior.”

“I don’t want to fuck you this dressing room right no-”

He cuts you off once again, “who said anything about fucking? Baby you have no idea. Come sit, just relax for me sweetie.”

He motions for you to sit down and you reluctantly do so. The tightness of the dress was becoming worse once you sat down again, you groaned from the life being sucked out of you.

“I just want these damn clothes off of me already, can you please help me?” You ask, in dire need to breathe properly again.

Jungkook nods, coming up behind you to unzip the dress and you feel instant relief from finally being out of it. You sigh as you feel your body coming back to normal, the dress was now fully unzipped, feeling a rush of cool air from the fan coming in contact with your bare skin. You slide the dress off including your stockings and kick off those uncomfortable heels you were wearing. You were now sitting in the chair with nothing other than your tiny g-string, that small excuse of fabric was barely covering your lower region. You wanted to blush from embarrassment but Jungkook was staring at you hungrily, as if he wants to devour your existence. You cover your chest with your hands but Jungkook chuckles at that.

“Don’t be shy with me now babe, acting like I’ve never seen you naked before, give me a fucking break y/n.”

He traces his fingertips down your shoulders, lightly drawing circles along your delicate skin. His warm breath tingled against you as he got closer, the tension in the air was so thick, you could cut it with a steak knife.

“I’ve watched you touch yourself in front of me, you can be such a good girl for me when you want to be.” He whispers in your ear softly.

You tremble from his words, consumed by his touch, and all the filthy things he says to you makes your mind go blank within seconds. He drags his fingers down to your stomach, tracing more invisible lines on your body. The fact he was still fully clothed and you were the one under him, fully exposed, ready for him to do whatever he wanted made you even more nervous. You never know what this man’s intentions are with you.

“Will you be a good girl for me right now while I go down on you? You have to stay as quiet as possible for me or else there will be consequences princess.”

You don’t know what those consequences will be, but you simply nod your head. You turn into the perfect submissive when you’re alone with Jungkook, you do any and everything he says with no hesitation. You like to think you would never fall to a man’s beck and call but for Jungkook, you’d risk it all. His light touches kept going as he brought a hand to your inner thigh, kneading at your flesh. His hands played with the thin string of your thong, he takes the front of it and pulls at the fabric then flings it back like a slingshot. You squeal from the contact on your cunt, making you flinch a little. He does it a few more times, flinging it back and toying with you. The evil smirk on his face said it all, he was playing a little game with you. The string of the thong was now jammed in between your pussy lips, the sight of it made Jungkook smack his lips together. He wanted you so bad but teasing you was way more fun.

“You have such a pretty cunt babygirl,” he expresses in a sultry tone, “I’m going to take all the time I need with you, princess.”

He plays some more with the g-string and you close your eyes from the sensation, opening your legs wider for him to get a better view.

“No, keep your eyes open and look into the mirror behind me, you take your eyes off of it once and I’ll make sure to punish you so bad you won’t be able to walk again.”

You open your eyes instantly, looking over at the mirror in front of you and seeing Jungkook on his knees being eye level with your dripping cunt.

“Will you promise to be a good girl for daddy?” He asks sternly.

“Yes, I promise daddy I will!”

“Then say it.”

“I’ll be a good girl for daddy, I promise I’ll be good!” You plead with him.

He gives you a little smirk and his eyes were dark like they were last night. The only thing on his mind right now was ruining you completely.

He brings his face closer to your heat, his lips were close to it you could feel his breath sweep against you. He slides the sad excuse of fabric to the side and draws a single digit into your wetness. A small moan comes out of you and he looks up with a glaring eye, making you cover your mouth so you can stop yourself from going further.

“Be quiet…” he says, bringing another finger to his lips for you to stay silent.

He continues dragging his finger up and down your slit, rubbing your slick all over to create even more a mess. He couldn’t stop looking at the way your cunt was glistening and as much as he wanted to keep teasing you, he also wanted to dive his face in. He brings his tongue to your slit, starting with small kitten licks, your body trembles just by the slightest amount of stimulation. He drags his tongue slowly, coming in contact with your clit and lightly sucks on it. You keep your eyes on the mirror like Jungkook instructed you to, the pornographic sight was enough to make you want to cum. You had your legs spread out wide for him, holding your thighs to keep them in place as he eats you out.

The feeling of his tongue gliding against your clit left you with a million tingles down your spine. He nestles his face deeper into your cunt and his nose brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves, drenching his whole face with your wetness. The task of keeping quiet was only growing to become more difficult as his pace grew quicker. Jungkook’s mouth felt like heaven and the reflection of him on his knees for you was making you go insanely feral. He licks a long stripe against your cunt in the slowest motion, his eyes looking at you the entirety of it which only made you want to moan out for him. You bite your lip down heavily enough to draw a tiny amount of blood, really trying your best to be good for him as possible.

“You’re being such a good girl for me baby,” Jungkook praises while still looking up at you, “I knew you could do it, you’re a smart girl.” He continues his assault on your clit and his tongue flicks against it faster. You want to moan out his name but you don’t want know what the consequences will be, plus you don’t want anyone to know that you’re getting it on with the man who’s supposed to be in charge of you. You’re stuck in a daze from all the pleasure he was giving you, tangling your fingers in his long fluffy hair to feel more of him. His face was now completely buried inside you, you weren’t sure if he was even breathing properly but you didn’t hear any complaining from his end.

He laps up all your wetness with his mouth as he works his tongue deep into your cunt, you almost cry out from the feeling in your core. You seal your lips tighter in order not to make a sound, your heavy breathing was the only audible noise coming from you— besides the sounds of your juices being mixed with Jungkook’s tongue of course. You kept tugging on his hair making it messier as you continue watching him through the mirror. His tongue going back to your clit to abuse it some more, you could feel your high approaching any minute now. Your body jerks from the over stimulation and you want to scream but you end up pulling strands of his hair harder.

“You gonna cum for me princess?” He takes a moment to catch some air, “I want you to cum for daddy, can you do that for me?”

You simply nod your head, focusing on your climax and almost shut your eyes, but you remember you have to keep them open. You really do your best to try and look at him but it was all too much for you, you wanted to pass away and let the pleasure wash over you like a typhoon. He circles your clit with his tongue one more time as you cover your mouth again to stop you from moaning out load. You can feel your release coming as you chase your high, your eyes were still open surprisingly as you watched Jungkook keep himself between your legs. Your legs violently shake as you cum, the creamy substance now dripping out beautifully against his tongue. He licks your slate clean as all your cum is gone and he licks up the rest of your essence on your thighs.

“Such a good girl for me.” Jungkook says, now smiling with pride after he’s made you cum. He gets up from being on the floor and his face was completely wet, he glanced over at the mirror and noticed immediately. He licked his lips and chuckled at his appearance, his hair was a complete, disheveled mess and the neckline of his shirt was lined with sweat. You giggle from the effect you had on him, he was the one putting in all the work yet came out looking completely ruined too.

“Let’s get you in some different clothes and head back before people start noticing I disappeared, I’m sure everyone is wondering where I ran off to,” Jungkook takes a random blouse and skirt off of a rack and hands it to you, “just wear this then meet me back on set, you know we have that rehearsal later as well so I’ll call you and pick you up at 8.”

You nod your head and take the clothes from him, you had a fully packed schedule this whole week and you didn’t realize how busy your life was going to become. You used to have more free time to go out and hang with friends but ever since you got this modeling gig you barely talked to any of them. Your phone was still dead and you have no idea if anyone’s been trying to communicate with you. You aren’t the type to change your whole personality because of a new guy in your life but Jungkook was showing you a different side of the world, a part of the world you knew absolutely nothing about. All you could do was continue to have a levelheaded mindset and hope that it won’t eventually change you into something you aren’t.

It felt lonely coming back to your apartment without Jungkook. He had to finish up some work at the studio so he couldn’t drive you home, he had one of his staff chauffeur you back. You had your own car but Jungkook didn’t want you driving unless you really had to, he didn’t like having you do more work than you already do. You called your landlord to confirm if you were still going to be evicted and he told you no, that someone named Mr. Jeon called him and told him that he would be your guarantor and all your bills can go directly to him. Your jaw almost hit the floor once he said that, you really couldn’t believe your biggest problem you’ve been dealing with has been resolved in such an instant. You were baffled at his behavior yet grateful since now you didn’t really have anything to worry about. Well, besides the fact that you’re now Jungkook’s mistress and he’s pretty much helping you build your entire career. You would usually never accept handouts from people, let alone help you pay your own rent, this was a new side of you only he could bring out. You had no idea you were capable of doing anything like this.

You rest your head in your hands as you sit on your bed to think about all the events leading up to your life right now. One tiny interaction was all it took to completely change your life and you’re not even sure if it’s for the better. Your phone was finally turned back on from being dead all day and you check your missed notifications. You got a call from your best friend Sakura and she texted you asking if you were okay, you haven’t talked to her since the day you went off on her about her taking “accountability” speech.

You decide to call her back since you really wanted to update her on everything and get her opinion. You call her but it immediately goes straight to voicemail so you call it again but the same thing happens. You get confused by this so you send her a message to tell her to answer her phone however the message becomes green instead of blue once you press send. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach now, you know that this could only mean one thing. Your own best friend blocked your number. You felt so betrayed right now, the person who was supposed to stick by your side through everything decides to cut you off and not even give you a chance at closure. You felt sick and you didn’t even know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to start bursting into tears. You couldn’t believe she would do something like this to you, after all you’ve been through together it just felt like a slap in the face.

Your tears kept coming and you couldn’t stop rocking yourself to calm you down. You felt entire your whole body shake as your breathing slowly become irregular. You were a sobbing mess and now you were feeling like a panic attack was about to arise. You couldn’t contain all your emotions, everything coming at you all at once made you feel so small and anxious. You felt utterly helpless, alone, so trapped, you could feel your airways closing from the tightness, only wheezing and coughing in response.

Your phone vibrated as a call notification pops up, it was Jungkook. You don’t answer it because you were in the middle of a full blown panic attack and you couldn’t mutter a single word at this moment. You were growing dizzy and kept gasping for air, it truly felt as though you were dying right now. You try to get up from your bed but your body grew weak, your limbs felt fluid as you tried to move. Your phone kept buzzing but the sounds were starting to feel like it was coming from underwater. Everything around you was a blur and you remember nothing else besides your eyes slowly falling shut.

You woke up laying on the floor of your room next to your bed, your head was pounding as if you had just drank too much alcohol. You get up to look around and everything was the same, nothing was thrown around or out of place. Now getting up and recovering from your panic attack, you breathe deeply and exhale to calm your anxious nerves. Your phone was still on the bed and you realize you’ve been on the floor for about half an hour. Jungkook called you about 4 times, he also texted you asking you what you were doing. It was almost 7 o’clock and you didn’t have much time to get ready for this rehearsal tonight. You call Jungkook back and he answers immediately,

“Y/n! Where have you been?” He says, sounding pretty concerned.

“I- I’m sorry I just wasn’t feeling too well…” you refrain from going any further in order not to worry him.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen y/n? I’ll be over there soon and we can talk about it if you wan-”

“No, it’s okay Jungkook, I actually don’t want to talk about it. Just pick me up at the normal time.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want. I’ll pick you up later then I guess…”

You hang up and let out a sigh, you didn’t even want to tell him about your situation with Sakura, it was unnecessary drama for him anyway. You have to get into work mode so you try to forget about it and take a shower. You felt like an empty shell of a person, just numb to everything and although you are incredibly hurt, you have to shield that from the rest of the world.

A black Porsche waits for you in your driveway. Jungkook comes out of the car and opens the door for you to get in the passenger side. You did your best to try and act normal, you really didn’t want him to notice anything off with you.

“You okay babe?” He asks anyway, you know he always does this to make sure you really are okay. He thought maybe it was just the stress of it all getting to you but you had another problem to deal with.

“Yes Kook, I’m fine can we just drive?” You tell him, wanting nothing but this conversation to be over with.

“I’m just making sure you’re alright, no need to bite my head off all the time y/n.” He retorts, he has good intentions behind him asking but you always find it slightly annoying when he does. Maybe because you never really had someone constantly ask if you were okay, it was usually the opposite, no one ever cared how you felt. Just like how your own “best friend” decides to block you and shut you out her life without taking your feelings into consideration. It hurt you so bad. All those emotions came flooding through you again and you felt your lips tremble. You try and snap out of your moment so you don’t cry in front Jungkook like you always do, you have to remain strong this time. You thought of anything to distract you but nothing seemed to be working, then one of the most unthinkable decisions came to your mind.

“Jungkook, do you have any cigarettes on you?” You ask him quietly, for some reason all you could think of to relieve your stress was smoking.

He looked at you as if you were confessing to a murder, never did he think those words would come out of your mouth.

“Um… yeah but I thought you said those were cancer sticks and I’m cutting my life by a year each time I smoke?”

“I mean yeah that is true, but I’m really stressed right now I just want to try one.”

“That’s what I said when I was 14 and look at me now,” he says ironically, “I don’t want to be the reason for you getting hooked on these.”

“I’m not going to become an addict! Just let me try one dammit!” You were growing frustrated with his attempts in getting you to stop but once you make your mind about something you’ll want to do it in the end.

“What’s gotten into you lately y/n? Is this is my fault? I’ll try harder to be a better influence for you if I can.”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t need you to influence me to do anything, this has nothing to do with you. I just want to relieve some stress!”

“There are so many other ways you can relieve stress than slowly killing yourself y/n…”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… you could have sex?” He proposes, “with me of course.”

“How can we have sex right now if you’re driving? Dumbass.”

“Hey, don’t call me that! I was just giving a suggestion…plus you know there’s other things you can do besides penetration.”

You giggle at his usage of the word “penetration”, you were so immature that it made him laugh too.

“So you want me to give you road head?” You say to him innocently, you like to see him get all worked up from you acting cute.

“I mean, if you want… yeah. Have you ever done something like this before?”

“Yeah kinda, the car wasn’t moving though!” You now turn your body completely to face him in the driver’s seat. You smile up at him with seductive eyes, watching as he sneaks glances at you while he drives, making your way closer to him. You lean over and stare at his stiff erection through his pants, rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. He winces a bit at that and you can tell just by any touch you give him his whole body feels like it’s set on fire. You weren’t a big teaser unlike Jungkook, so you waste no time in unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans to free his cock from the confines of his boxers. You look at the beautiful man’s pretty pink dick standing tall in front of you, licking your lips at the sight. His veiny cock was throbbing in your tiny hand, tip already leaking out with delicious precum. You slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him. You then swirl your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.

“Fuck princess… you feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the steering wheel even harder.

You wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. Bobbing it back and forth and keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. You feel Jungkook’s hips jolt up from the sensation as you draw more saliva from your mouth, making it as messy as possible. He let out a loud groan when his dick hit the back of your throat, you didn’t choke or gag once which surprised him. You don’t have a gag reflex which is ultimately perfect for giving head, you’re not really sure how you got so blessed with this talent. You take all of him completely in your mouth, swallowing him whole as you keep bobbing your head. The way he filled you up felt so good, nothing could compare to having Jungkook’s cock in your mouth.

“That’s my good girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” He keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. He does his best to keep his eyes on the road but the way you’re sucking him is taking him to different universe. Your free hand rested on his right thigh as you continued throwing your head back, stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth. He elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.

Jungkook bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to crash this vehicle, he breathes in and out the best way he can. He could feel himself cumming soon and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.

“I think I’m gonna cum… damn baby…”

You couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried 7 inches deep down your throat. The only thing on your mind right now was getting him to cum inside your mouth. You hum as you pick up your pace, deepthroating him aggressively. There was so much saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. A beautiful mess, just for Jungkook. You feel his hard length throb against in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. White ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, you look up at him as you take all his cum. His cum tastes so good, you were so sad when he emptied all of it. You pull away and kiss the tip of his cock before you go up to his face and give him a quick kiss on the lips. He flashes a soft smile at you and you gave a warm smile back. He quickly zips his pants back up with one hand and you help fix his belt for him.

“See, wasn’t that much better than smoking a cigarette?” He says proudly, you hate to admit he was right but at least he prevented you from doing irreversible damage to your body.

“I guess..” you shrug nonchalantly, “it was alright.”

“Well that blowjob you gave me was more than just an alright,” he happily boasts. You probably made his whole year with what you did.

“Does your wife suck your dick as good as I do?” You tease him, you don’t even know why you would say that but the look on his face turned sour.

“Why are you even bringing her up? This doesn’t have jackshit to do with her,” he says almost annoyed, “but yes, you do. Just don’t bring her up again please.”

You struck a nerve with that one, you wanted to keep egging him on but now probably isn’t a good time. You simply let it go and sit back in your seat quietly. You know why he gets so defensive about the subject but it just baffles you how he does it yet doesn’t bat at eye about cheating on her. It makes you feel so guilty you keep doing this but Jungkook really does make you happy, it’s a double edged sword.

“I’m sorry if I upset you y/n” he says, “I just really prefer not to talk about her, especially when I’m with you. I pretty much forget she exists when we’re together.”

You smiled but you still felt broken on the inside, you feel so bad for Soyeon, his wife doesn’t deserve any of this at all, no matter the circumstances. However, you don’t know her personally so it is true that you didn’t owe her any loyalty, it was just a principle/morality thing. You were thinking about how crushed she will probably be once she finds out Jungkook is divorcing her, if she ever found you were in the picture all hell could break loose.

“Will she ever find out?” You couldn’t help but ask, you don’t know how long he’d able to keep this secret from her for.

“No, I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t care if you told your friends about me, knowing you they already know by now. But if it gets out, I’ll be so angry with you y/n, I seriously wouldn’t know what to do.”

You were silent, you know he was dead serious when he said that. You didn’t get the chance to tell anyone besides Yeonjun and he’s not the type to go around telling everyone your business. You had nothing to worry about yet his words still cut deep.

“I didn’t tell anyone Jungkook…” you fidget with your hands and look out the window, you feel like you’ve been in this car for ages.

“When are we finally getting to the rehearsal oh my god, feels like I’ve been in this damn car forever!” You complain to him like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Calm down, we’ll be there in like 2 minutes. It’s kinda far from where we live,” he turns up a corner and drives into a large parking lot with lots of other cars parked there. He stops the car and gets out to open the door for you, you step out the car and he holds your hand in his. You were a little confused since Jungkook doesn’t like to show PDA in public but you go with it anyway.

You head into the historic looking building, as soon as you stepped in you felt claustrophobic. There were people everywhere. Hundreds of models scattered the venue, everyone all dolled up or being in the process of it. The speakers blared loud, catchy pop music as you made your way through the crowds of people. Jungkook was still holding onto you to make sure you wouldn’t get lost, you held onto him tightly since you were feeling anxious.

People kept coming up to him and greeting him, he was still holding your hand the entire time, you were receiving vicious looks from some of the models. You felt all eyes on you and you weren’t even dressed up, you had the most normal clothes on, nothing fancy. You felt like such a peasant around everyone but you soon won’t be once you get dressed up. Jungkook takes you to a private area where there was no one else around. He tells you to stay put while he goes to get one of the staff to do your makeup and hair for the rehearsal.

“I’ll be in the conference room, it’s the door on the right next to that bathroom down the hall. If you need me just knock or text me and I’ll come to you. See you in an hour doll,” he gives you a chaste kiss before leaving out.

You were now left alone, waiting for someone else to come in. You hear some light laughter from outside the door, overhearing some girls talking to each other.

“You noticed that new girl? I don’t even know her name she’s so irrelevant, but have you seen the way she acts? So snobby.” One of the girls spoke.

“Oh I think I know who you’re talking about, the one who follows around Jungkook like a lost puppy all the time?” Another girl chimes in.

“Yeah her. She seems likes such an entitled bitch, you would think she’s fucking him by the way she’s attached to that man like a magnet!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they actually are. Some girls have no shame and will do anything to get to the top.”

“I know right? And doesn’t he have a wife too? That would be so disgusting of her.”

You couldn’t listen anymore, you knew they were talking exactly about you. Your biggest fear came into fruition now, everyone thinks you slept your way to the top and it doesn’t help that Jungkook treats you with blatant favoritism. It’s only a matter of time before people start talking and rumors about you sleeping together will spread like wildfire. This industry thrives on gossip, it won’t take long for something like to start getting around. You worry even more about the outcome but before you could think of anything else, the makeup and hairstylist comes in to do their job. You sigh as you weren’t sure what to do now, you don’t want to text Jungkook and tell him the other models are talking shit about you incase he asks who. You have no idea who even said it since you only heard their voices, it could be literally anyone.

Sitting back in the chair, the makeup artist was applying glittery eyeshadow while the hairstylist blows out your hair. You try and relax while everything gets done but you couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“Can you stop twitching your eye like that?” The makeup artist asks you politely, you felt so bad that you couldn’t conceal your movement. You tried hard to sit still and keep a straight face but it was much harder than it looked.

Once you were finally done and the makeup and hair stylists were satisfied with the look, you study yourself in the mirror to assess your new appearance. Your hair was super big and poofy, almost like the hairstyles from the 80’s, your lips were accented with red lipstick and you felt like a movie star in this get up. You looked so different yet it suited you well, you looked like the most gorgeous version of yourself you could be. You thanked them for making you look so beautiful and you couldn’t stop touching hair but the hair stylist told you not to.

“Yeonjun will be there with your change of clothes soon, thanks for your time!” The makeup artist says to you as they both walk out.

A pink haired man appears in the room and you can see Yeonjun’s whole demeanor shift from earlier. He looked either exhausted, annoyed, or both. You wonder what’s on his mind so you ask him how he’s feeling. He lets out a deep sigh and regains his composure, “sorry if I seem a little off today, I got in a tiny argument with my boyfriend and just— ugh he’s really pissing me off right now!”

You giggle at his attitude, he doesn’t talk about his outside life with you much and you know he has a boyfriend but everything seemed fine whenever he would talk about him.

“Do you want to talk about it? If not, it’s totally okay I understand. Men are just the worst in general,” you say in support for your friend.

“It’s just he’s always complaining about me being busy with work and I try to make time for him when I can! It just seems like it’s never enough for him…”

You sympathize with him as you remember the many times you had with your exes when they’d get mad at you for not spending enough time with them. You know the feeling but you do your best not to talk about yourself and just focus on consoling your friend.

“I totally get it. I can see where you’re coming from and I can also see his side as well. Maybe he just gets jealous easily? I mean you do work with attractive people all day, maybe if you reassure him that you only care about him and your work life shouldn’t interfere with your relationship.”

You couldn’t believe you gave such sound advice to someone. You articulated yourself well and got straight to the point, you mentally give yourself a pat on the back.

“Thanks y/n, I realize that I probably don’t tell him enough everyday that I love him, I just assume he already knows that but I guess it’s nice to say y’know?”

You nod in agreement. You were glad that you could help Yeonjun feel better and his mood became more upbeat. You felt good that he was comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you and it only made your friendship stronger. Maybe Yeonjun will be your new best friend, forget Sakura.

“I know you weren’t comfortable with the last outfit so I brought a different dress this time,” he says, bringing the dress over to you and you were in awe of what was in front of you. You couldn’t believe you were about to wear something this stunning, the dress reached all the way to the floor, it looked like something straight off someone from the Met Gala.

The gown was structured beautifully, it was a royal purple color with lots of layers to it. The top was a bustier bodice with a deep v-neckline, the waist was corset-like, it had tulle mesh bell sleeves with 3D butterfly accents all over and the bottom had a puffy ballgown style with more tulle underneath.

Once you got in the dress you felt like a real princess in her castle. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how amazing you always look when you’re in model mode. The corset cinched your waist in so perfectly, giving you the sexiest hourglass figure. Everything about you just became one hundred times better, you couldn’t get enough of how insanely hot you looked.

“I look so damn good, wow! I can’t even recognize myself.” You say to Yeonjun, not taking your eyes off your pretty reflection.

“You always look great y/n, but I must admit you become spicier when you’re all dressed up!” He says, giving you the much needed compliments you deserve.

You now had to go back out into the real world, back where all the other models that despised you will be. You take a deep breath as you open the door to make your way back out and it was still complete chaos. You don’t see Jungkook anywhere and Yeonjun told you to go to the room where the rehearsal will be held. You hope to God that Jungkook will be there since you have no idea what you’re doing.

You had to get through so many people just to make it across the other side, you kept feeling all the stares on you and you couldn’t stop thinking about what those girls were saying about you earlier. It really upset you that people had already prejudged you for simply existing, they knew nothing about you yet already thought you were a bitch. It’s not a good feeling to know that others around you don’t like you but to hear it yourself was one thing.

You eventually make it to the rehearsal room and you were met with one of the backstage managers to instruct you where to go. You go behind the curtain and head backstage to where all the other models were, again the room was chaotic yet in a functional way. A stylist comes up to you to check over your look and fine tune some things about your hair and makeup. You still didn’t see Jungkook anywhere and it was starting to worry you.

You decide to text him and ask him where he was, he texts you a few seconds later and tells you he’s in the bathroom but he’s at the rehearsal. You feel your whole body relax when you read that, at least he will be here with you any minute now.

You feel a hand sneak up behind you to tap your shoulder, you turn around instantly and you’re met face to face with Jungkook.

“There you are!” You say to him happily, he was the only person you needed to see right now.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a huge grin on his face, “whoever did your look I need to give them a raise because wow you are smoking hot!”

You blush at him flirting with you, unsure of how to react since he was saying this in front of so many people. The fact he just casually flirts with you in front the models makes you feel even more self conscious about what was said about you earlier.

“Thanks Kook..” you say shyly, trying not make it so obvious that you’re practically in love with this man.

Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off you though and it was only making your body temperature rise to boiling levels. If there weren’t so many people here you would’ve been making out with him by now.

You were trying to play it cool as one of the models came up to Jungkook.

“Hey Jungkook, I was wondering if you were free after this? I could really use a massage, I’ve been working so hard latelyy,” the blonde woman confidently waltzed in between, you were in utter disbelief by the way she just asked that so casually. You know she has no idea who you are but it still felt like a huge slap in the face. Jungkook wasn’t really paying attention to her and was still looking over at you, he chuckled at her advance but before he could even get a word out you spoke for him.

“Actually he’s busy tonight!” You bark at her in a harsh tone, you know you shouldn’t have butted in the conversation but you couldn’t help being protective over him. He was yours.

“I don’t think I was talking to you was I?” The girl snarks back at you, “I said Jungkook, not whatever the hell your name is.”

“Her name is y/n. Also thanks for the offer Somi but I think I’ll pass.” Jungkook says, shutting her down completely.

“Oh, well then let me know if you change your mind!” Somi tries in attempt to safe herself from the embarrassment.

“I won’t.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You feel like Somi heard it by the way she did a double take and glared at him with evil eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole ordeal, it was sad how some of these girls threw themselves at any chance to be with Jungkook. You didn’t have to do any of this to even get him to pay attention to you, he was the one that chased after you the whole time. It made you feel special that you had that effect on him, it was like once he saw you he had tunnel vision.

“Are we good to go boss?” One of the directors asks Jungkook before the rehearsal starts and he nods his head. The director whistles loudly to get everyone’s attention as they stop what they were doing to listen. He instructs all the models to line up and get into single file, you were the first in line since you were the opening of the show and it made you even more nervous. You knew this had to be absolutely perfect for Jungkook, you couldn’t make any minor mistakes or else you’ll disappoint him. You couldn’t let him down so you took a deep breath as you wait for the director to queue the music. Once the music turns on and you go into work mode and relax yourself. You think about all the things you learned in your modeling courses so far and how they taught you to exude confidence as you walk. You make your way down the aisle and place your hands on your hips like the director instructed you to do so.

Keeping your posture as straight as possible, you take long strides down the stage with your feet balanced in a straight line. Your facial expression was natural yet you kept a strong gaze, you wanted your eyes to do all the talking. You let everything flow naturally as you kept walking, reaching the end of the stage you stop then make a pivot to the right and give a slight pose. You turn around and do the same thing you did as before, taking long strides and keeping the energy up. You walk back to the curtains and you felt so accomplished with what you just did. It was if the whole world meant nothing to you in that moment, the lights didn’t give you a headache, the people in the crowd didn’t bother you, you felt immensely proud of yourself. The stilettos you were wearing were so tall and had the thinnest heel but you got through it anyway, it amazed you how far you’ve come already.

You watch as another model steps on stage now, you’re actually glad that you were the first one since now everything was done and over with. You’d have more time to feel anxious about it and become more stressed out if you waited in the line longer. Jungkook finds you and comes up to you clapping his hands in amusement from what he saw from you, his smile was everything you needed to know that he was immensely proud of you.

“Such an amazing job out there y/n, you killed it. You’re such a natural born talent, I swear you’re going to change my life!” He says out loud, he always praised you as if you were God’s greatest gift to earth and it made you melt each and every time.

“Thank you so much Jungkook,” you say to him while going in for a hug and he hugs you back instantly. He goes one step further to even pick you up and twirl you around like a little doll, he put you down and you couldn’t stop giggling. Everyone in the room was looking at two, it was so obvious that the other models were jealous they didn’t even try to hide it. One of the girls muttered “get a room” as they walked by and you heard it. You were now blushing from embarrassment and Jungkook looks around too to make everyone stop staring at you.

He whispers something in your ear “don’t worry about these girls, they’re harmless. If they even try to start shit with you I’ll handle it.”

You nod and just watch as Jungkook leaves you again to go check on the rehearsal.

As the rehearsal comes to an end, everything starts to wind down. Jungkook was talking a bunch of staff and other people while you waited patiently for him to finish so you could go home. You were now out of the fancy designer clothes but you still felt pretty with your hair and makeup. Jungkook couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you from time to time while talking to them, he just loved looking at you. You were the most precious little angel to him and he wanted to protect you with everything he had.

When he finishes talking he heads over to you finally. You were so ready to go home and you felt completely exhausted by the whole day.

“Is it time to go now Kook?” You ask impatiently, you couldn’t wait to get your much needed rest.

“Actually y/n, there’s an after party that I have to attend. I was hoping you’d come along since I could really use the company,” he says, gently rubbing the palms of your hands with his fingers.

“Do you really have to go to it? I’m usually all for a night out but I just been doing stuff all day and I’m so tired! Please, just stay in this once?” You plead as you make a cute pout with your lips, you know the pouting always works with him.

“I really can’t…I just don’t want to let all my colleagues down if I don’t show up since it is my campaign after at all..”

“So what? They can still have a good time without you there, they don’t need you to survive Jungkook!” You practically beg, praying that he finally gives in.

“Actually they kinda do because most of them are on my pay roll— you know what that’s not the point. You’re right y/n, I’ll just tell them I had to take care of something.”

Your face lights up at his response, you were glad that you were able to get through to him. You grab his hand to leave but he tells you he has to say his fellow goodbyes to everyone before he gets going. You groan as you watch him walk away yet again to go say his farewells to everyone for the night.

When he finishes doing that you both are finally able to leave the venue and get back into the car.

“Is this another car you have?” Asking him curiously, you’ve been wondering since he pulled up to your house with it.

“Yeah, I own a couple.”

“Oh that’s cool, how many?”

“A lot.” He chuckles from his own answer, you glare at him since you genuinely wanted to know and now it was going to drive you crazy.

“Why do you want one of them? I’ll gladly give you one that I barely use,” he sincerely offers.

First he gives you a high paying job, then he pays your rent, now he’s practically offering you a car. You’re starting to think that maybe Jungkook is the sugar daddy of your dreams, yet he’s not even some gross old man that’s lonely. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have someone like him, just able to sweep all your problems away with no issue. It wasn’t even about the material things, it was just the fact that he went out of his way to constantly take care of you. You never had someone in your life so nurturing towards you, your own family didn’t even treat you this way. You had so many feelings for him that you couldn’t contain it anymore, you just had to say it.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You blurt out, you didn’t expect to actually say it.

“Because I’ll give you a car? That’s kinda shallow don’t you think?” He jokes with you.

“No- oh my God shut up. I mean in general Jungkook, I’m really falling in love with you and I don’t know what to do…”

“Well there’s really nothing to do. I’m also really in love with you which is why I would do anything for you.” He admits.

You wanted to cry at what he said. His voice sounded so soft, so sweet, everything he was saying to you was like music to your ears. You couldn’t let him say that without asking for something in return though.

“If you really loved me, you will file this divorce quickly so I won’t have to deal with this much longer..” you say in hopes that he’ll consider doing it.

“I will. I have the papers signed on my end but I’ve just been meaning to give them to her…”

“Do it tomorrow! I don’t like sleeping with married people, it makes me feel dirty.” You say while crossing your arms and pouting again.

He reassures everything will be fine, “I’ll try my best for you y/n.”

Jungkook was saying all the right things but still, you felt so unsure about his actions. You have no idea what Jungkook and Soyeon’s marriage is like, he’s never told you a single thing about her besides being an actress. All this curiosity was going to keep you up at night and the guilt would only grow more intense.

You were at Jungkook’s place sitting on his couch while he made you both some food. You were watching a cartoon on his 98” flat TV and all the colors and effects were even more captivating on the giant screen. You see Jungkook from the corner of your eye now walking up to you with the food. He made you some soup with chicken and it smelled really good. You take the bowl from him and place the spoon into your mouth, surprised by how delicious the soup was.

“This is so good, wow I didn’t know you could cook!” You continue eating your soup and he smiles at your approval.

“My friends don’t call me chef Jeon for no reason,” he winks at you.

You both continue eating in silence as you watch the cartoon on the TV, your legs were crossed on Jungkook’s lap and you felt so cozy lying beside him on his velvet couch.

Once you were finished with the soup you put it down the glass coffee table in front of you and reposition yourself to lye your head on Jungkook’s shoulder. He gives you small head pats while still gluing his eyes to the cartoon, you finally ask him what cartoon this was since you had no idea what you were even watching.

“It’s Pucca! It’s a show I used to watch as a kid, I still get nostalgic about it from time to time.”

You didn’t know he was so passionate about his cartoons, you always liked when he would show little bits of his interests. You were happy that he was able to share these things with you, it made your bond feel even closer.

“You’re so cute sometimes,” you say to him smiling, snuggling him with him some more.

“Thanks?” He chuckles at your funny comment, “you’re always cute though.”

With that, he brings his hand to your face and kisses you adoringly. You lean into the kiss and feel his lip ring brushing up against you, placing your hands around his neck you position yourself to be on his lap now. You tug on his lower lip and he lets you in properly; taking his time with kissing you deeply before he sneaks his hands elsewhere. You could feel his body heat against yours and it was only getting warmer in here. You begin to grind slowly on him as he trails his hands to your hips, now holding them in place. You keep grinding against his now visible boner, rocking your hips back and forth as he held onto you.

You moan in his mouth from the friction and you can feel him throbbing underneath you, his dick twitching at any slight amount of stimulation. Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to move on to your neck, he nibbles on your flesh as he bites down gently to eventually turn a reddish purple hue. He scatters little butterfly kisses all over to make you grow flustered, coming back up to press his lips against yours again.

The romantic in you wanted him to take his time with you but you’ve already had enough foreplay throughout the day. You really need him inside you and you were going to get that one way or another.

“Jungkook” you break away from the kiss for a second.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I ride you?”

He smirks at your words, you didn’t beat around the bush at all for him.

“Of course you can ride daddy’s cock,” he brings his hand under your shirt to fondle your breasts, “you don’t have to ask princess.”

He lifts up your shirt to expose your bare chest to him, toying with your nipples some more while kissing you before he takes off his shirt next. You loved seeing him shirtless, his tattooed body was ridiculously sexy. The mere sight of him made you want to have an outer-body orgasm. You feel on his pecks and biceps just admiring his gorgeously toned body, you could trace the curves of abs all day. You kiss him again as he feels your ass through your sweatpants, sliding his hands in inside to grab it tighter. His hands were so soft and warm, you loved the feeling of his touch against you.

As you two part from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects to the both of your lips. He smiles at you and licks it away.

“Take your pants for me pretty girl” he says, “wanna see you naked already.”

He was so impatient it made you giggle at his behavior. You get up from his lap to slide your sweatpants off and Jungkook is in disbelief to find out you went commando.

“Fuck… you really know how to drive me up the walls don’t you?” He couldn’t stop looking at you up and down, he was so infatuated and turn on with everything about you.

He signals you to come back to his lap with his finger and you sit on top of him now completely naked. He massages his hands all over your body tenderly, enamoring you dearly with his touches. His hands felt like putty to you, melting into him like clay as you grind against him again. A moan leaves both of your mouths from the pleasure and you didn’t notice but you realize now that the TV was turned off.

“Take your pants off already!” You whine to him so you can finally feel him. He tsks at you being unable to contain your excitement for him.

“Be patient little one, I was getting to that.”

He lets you off of him so he can undo his pants and slides them down to his ankles. You watch him closely as he goes onto his boxers, bringing them down as well; fully exposed to his cock for the second time today.

You jump back onto him and kiss hungrily, your bodies intertwine with one another as you straddle him and position yourself to take his length. He keeps his hands on your hips while you rub your wetness on his tip, the moans coming from your mouth was harmonic to Jungkook.

He moved a hand to feel on your ass and he leaves a hard slap against it, making your ass jiggle from the contact. He watches and does it again a few more times, making you whimper from the slight pain he’s causing.

“I love everything about you y/n,” he says once he breaks away from kissing you “I love all of you, you’re so fucking perfect” he nuzzled his face in your neck and you couldn’t help but smile at what he said. He knew exactly what to say to get you to make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

You lowered yourself onto him now, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jungkook mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, you stay in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in paradise.

Jungkook bucks up his hips slowly, wanting to feel more movement from you. You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jungkook throws his head back from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to combust.

“You always feel so good around me princess,” he groans while grabbing your ass, “this pussy’s going to be the death of me baby.”

You simply keep moaning as you continue bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you to go even deeper. Your eyes reached the back of the skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots in you. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and crying out for him.

“J-Jungkook, oh my god—” you couldn’t stop babbling, “fuck you’re so good— you’re so good to me daddy…”

“I know I am princess, now be good for me and cum when I tell you to.”

You nod your head viciously, wanting nothing more than to let him help you reach your orgasm. You couldn’t stop moaning his name over and over like a mantra, it was like your brain was only full of Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“You can cum for me baby, go ahead it’s okay,” he says sweetly.

You feel your high approaching so you pick up the pace quicker, Jungkook’s fingernail was jabbing deep into your hip as you continue riding him. You feel your walls contract from your orgasm and you moaned out so loud for him that you were sure someone miles way could’ve even heard that. You let your orgasm wash over you and Jungkook quickly lifts you up from being on top so he can finish his load in your mouth. You get on your knees to become eye level with his cock and have your tongue out and ready for him. He gives a couple strokes to his cock and eventually large white strings of cum comes in contact with your mouth. You swallow all of his cum, licking the excess off his shaft to make sure you get all of it. You tap your tongue against the tip of his cock and the dirty view of you doing it was making Jungkook’s mind go complacent blank.

“You’re so fucking hot” he says, caressing your cheek in his hand and then squeezing it playfully.

You simply giggle at him and get up from the floor, you sit back onto the couch to give him another sweet kiss.

“You ready to shower and head to bed?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m officially worn out for the day.”

You put only your shirt back on and Jungkook puts on his boxers, he leads the way for you both to head upstairs.

You immediately go into the bathroom and he goes into his room to get you both fresh clothes. Meanwhile as you wait for him to come back you were looking at the love bites that he left all your neck. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing since you literally have another shoot tomorrow. Guess you’ll have to just cover it up with some good ol’ concealer. You hear a commotion from outside the door but it didn’t sound like it was coming from Jungkook’s bedroom. A set of keys rustling could be heard from afar as you bring your ear close to the door.

“Jeon Jungkook!” You hear a woman’s voice from downstairs call out.

You slowly recognize that voice, it was that same voice from the voicemail in Jungkook’s phone. You were mortified, now trapped in the bathroom with absolutely no escape.

“Jungkook!” She calls out again, “I’m home, I decided to surprise you a day early!”

You wanted so badly to just crawl up into a microscopic ball and hide. You get into the bathtub and close the shower curtain so you can be hidden. You know Jungkook wasn’t coming back for you any time soon now.

Bracing yourself for the worst, you hear the voice grow closer as she headed up the stairs.

“Babe! You home?” She kept calling out to him but he wasn’t saying a word.

You were more concerned of her possibly finding out that you were here so you just keep quiet and do your best to remain calm. You were losing your shit in your mind but you believe in Jungkook enough to handle this. You just keep yourself poised so you can wait for this to all be over.

You hear the handle of the bathroom door jolt, you had it locked so no one could come in. You had no idea who was shaking the doorknob but you weren’t going to take your chances.

“Jungkook, you in there?” You hear his wife asks, now knocking on the door quietly.

“I know you’re in there, just answer me already!”

You hug yourself and rock back and forth to drown out the sounds of her. You couldn’t take it anymore, all the guilt kept rushing back to you now. You regret even being here at this point. Teleportation would really come in handy at this moment.

“Jungkoo- oh finally you show up!” She says in a chipper tone now.

“Hey Soyeon…” he didn’t sound enthusiastic at all to hear from her.

“Why is the bathroom door locked?” She asks out of curiosity.

You hear him give the worst excuse that you ever heard in your whole life of living.

“Oh damn is it really? I must have accidentally locked it or something, how weird is that!”

“I don’t think that’s even possible to do Jungkook..” she continued “what were you getting up to? Hiding someone in there?”

You know she was only joking but the irony of it was enough to make Jungkook become even more defensive.

“No silly, that’s crazy! I just accidentally locked it from the inside is all.”

“Well unlock it back, I gotta use the bathroom!”

“Then use the downstairs one.”

“What the fuck why? When’s there’s a perfectly good bathroom in front of me, stop with this nonsense and just open it already!” She demands.

You couldn’t stop fidgeting now, this whole situation was about to get blown up in Jungkook’s face and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

#jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader

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writersdrug · 2 months

Text

Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1

Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!

ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk

translations at the end

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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.

That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.

Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.

He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.

An enchantress, König had concluded.

The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”

König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.

(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)

The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.

“What more can you offer me?” he asked.

The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”

König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…

He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?

He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?

The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”

A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.

König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”

He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.

König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.

After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.

On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.

It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.

In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.

It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.

A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.

He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.

He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.

He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.

More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.

The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.

He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.

The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.

The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.

It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.

Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-

Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-

He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.

Remember the warlock’s promise.

Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.

He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.

Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.

Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).

You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.

“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.

König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.

“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”

König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”

Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”

Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.

“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.

You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“

He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.

“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”

He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.

“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”

For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.

“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”

“Hunter?” you asked.

He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”

Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…

“I like to listen to the begging.”

“Begging?”

“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.

You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?

Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.

Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”

The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.

“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?

“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.

“It does to me.”

“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”

You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”

König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”

For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”

“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”

“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”

“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”

Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”

Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”

You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”

“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”

You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.

Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.

“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.

“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.

“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”

You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”

You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”

König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?

König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.

You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.

“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.

His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.

König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”

König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”

You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to - asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”

König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.

“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.

He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”

You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.

“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”

König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.

You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.

He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.

He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?

“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”

You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.

By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.

As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.

But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.

Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.

You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.

He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.

How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“

König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.

“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –

This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.

You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.

Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.

Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.

His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-

A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.

He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-

You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…

He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.

He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.

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

"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”

... so good, so beautiful, just like that...

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