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accidentallyrose · 6 months

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Playdate cancelled.

#eastern bloc #leftovers #playground #toys #vintage #rainy day

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thisisdore · 8 months

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20/09/23

Overslept again, but at least I was able to force myself out of bed before noon today. Anyway. Walked my dog (and realised I was going to have to buy a real dog rain coat as my diy one was a fail), headed out to run some errands, putting up my new glow in the dark stars, two new Halloween toys to add to the collection, and then finally the most beautiful and glittery bat bath bomb.

#ThisIsDore #daily post #dog walking #rainy day #running errands #glow in the dark stars #halloween decorations #Halloween toys #Bat bath bomb #Bath bomb

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bryonyashaw · 1 year

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A post shared by Bryony | Lifestyle | family | foodie (@bryonyannie)

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𝗔𝗶𝗿𝗯𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗣𝗹𝘂𝘀 𝗦𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗶 - 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁.

Product gifted by @comerounduk @canaltoysglobal

Inside each Mystery Mini Airbrush Pack, is your very own new furry bestie which children can customise with the airbrush spray tool, 3 colourful markers and 25 stick-on stencils or just go freehand (it comes with clear plastic gloves)

The stencils are easy to use - you just stick on and the spray pen is easy to set up. Top tip - make sure the pen goes all the way to the end of the tube and if it isn't spraying as much just wet the end with a tiny amount of water.

My daughter is 5 and loves the bright design and being able to design her own plushie - assistance is needed setting up the airbrush tool and using it - my 8 year old was able to spray it easily enough. The pen washes off fantastic! Comes off then start again on a new design.

You can also buy from Very plus lots of other online shops. You can buy larger ones from places like Argos and Smyths Toys.

𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀:

• 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 12 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩.

• 𝘼𝙜𝙚 𝙍𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚: 6+

• 𝙀𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙊𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚(𝙨)‎ - 𝘿𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙮.

• 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 - 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙩.

• 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚: 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 3 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨.

• 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙨 -

𝙒𝙖𝙨𝙝-𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙨 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 & 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣!

• 12 𝙋𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩

• 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝘼𝙢𝙖𝙯𝙤𝙣.

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tasteracha · 4 months

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kinktober - day sixteen

kink: sex toys with jilix

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, afab!reader. mention of hentai (typical jlix things). 3k.

it’s something that felix and jisung bring up all the time. throughout your entire time as roommates slash best friends with benefits they’ve talked about it, but they’ve never followed through with it.

they want to ruin you. stretch you so far that you’re left with your pussy gaping, fill you up so far that it feels like your breath is taken away. the thought of it sends you into a dizzy spell if you think about it too long, but it’s always just that. a thought. you’re not sure why, since every other kink that’s been brought up has been tried and added to the ranked bulletin board in your room.

handcuffs? yes, enthusiastically.

petplay? no, much to jisung’s poorly concealed disappointment.

stuffed full of sex toys? TBD.

but no matter how many times any of you had brought it up, whether it be giggling into a glass of wine or holding hands in the dark under your covers, they never made any moves to make it become reality.

so, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

it’s almost too easy to sneak an excessively large order of sex toys onto jisung’s credit card, the one he had given to you with a wink and a whispered you know what to do with this. you hadn’t known what to do with it, but you pocketed the card anyways, saving it for a rainy day. maybe this is what he had meant when he said that to you - you’ll find out soon, probably.

by the time it arrived you were almost sick with anticipation, the thought of it not leaving you as you obsessively checked the tracking of your package every possible second. when it finally arrived they weren’t home, and you opened it without abandon, ripped pieces of cardboard littering the floor. they looked…daunting. almost scary. incredibly exciting.

“tomorrow,” felix says, more to the contents of the box than to you. “tomorrow, we’re going to ruin you with these.”

“tomorrow?” both you and jisung whined together, and you exchanged a fist bump over the box as felix huffed at you.

and yet, with all of the impatient waiting you did in the past week (and jisung in the past day), tomorrow came sooner than you could catch up with. you were naked on the mattress before you could even blink, cunt clenching around nothing as you watched them lay out the materials that you had so meticulously picked out.

it might be a little too soon for an endeavor like this, it would be smarter to try out every toy first and make sure you were comfortable with all of them, but they’ve kept you waiting too long for this for you to think about being smart right now.

they lined the toys up at the foot of the bed, all washed and sanitized and ready for whatever filthy use they were going to be put through. there’s four of them, varying in size, girth and length, color, and vibrations and thrusting ability, and you’re already a bit overwhelmed just looking at them.

or rather, a lot overwhelmed.

they make eyes at each other over you, having some kind of silent conversation in the creepy way that they do. felix nods and moves to sit by your head, moving you around until your upper body was half in his lap. jisung, on the other hand, picks up the first toy and examines it, twisting it around in his hand.

“relax, baby,” felix’s voice rumbles through you, and you melt into him a bit when he runs his hand through your hair.

jisung’s eyes are fixated on your pussy now, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he imagines how wrecked you’re going to be once they’re done with you.

“jisung, come on,” you whine, wriggling a bit in felix’ lap.

“let me enjoy this,” he bites back, sending you a playful glare.

“i think i’m the one who’s supposed to be enjoying this,” you pout, relaxing back into place when felix tugs at a strand of your hair.

“oh trust me, you will,” felix’s voice grumbles from behind you, vibrations from it dousing your body just as jisung finally touches you. it’s not quite where you want, his hand is tracing up and down your thigh, but it’s something.

he takes his time mapping out your skin, planes of smooth flesh that he’s seen and felt and loved before, but never this slowly. never this reverently. it’s almost frustrating, but felix begins massaging your neck and shoulders and you’re too relaxed to provide any protest beyond a frustrated huff of breath as your eyes flutter closed.

“no, stay with us,” felix coaxes your eyes open, and you almost giggle at how funny he looks upside-down from where you’re laying. it feels like time is moving in slow-motion as jisung uncaps the lube and drizzles it on the toy, the smallest one you had chosen. it’s thin with a bulbous head, created specifically to hit right at your g-spot, a smooth metal with a lustrous purple finish. it’s beautiful, even more so when he runs the cool metal head up and down your folds, warming it up. when it gets to your hole you nearly swallow it up, the glide almost too easy from the lube and your wetness that’s been building since before you even took off your clothes.

“eager, are we?” jisung teases, and you just snarl back at him, too impatient to deal with being in a sarcastic argument with him right now. you usually love his playful banter during sex, but that’s when you’re in a mutual push and pull dynamic. right now the only thing you want him to push is the toy into you. “fine, i’ll give you what you want, but remember that you asked for it.”

all at once, he’s thrusting it in and out of you, twisting his hand just right so that it hits your spot every single time. it’s already almost too much, and you push up against felix to try and get away from the sudden onslaught. he just laughs, pinning you in place as jisung keeps going and going and going.

it only takes a few minutes for your orgasm to approach, expectantly fast with how keyed up you’ve been since you woke up. you’re just starting to come when — in one quick move — jisung removes the toy and replaces it with his fingers, crooking them up right where he knows you like it best, over and over. the change in pace makes everything so much more intense, and you can’t stop your body from arching off of the bed, your head pressed into felix’ thighs. it feels like minutes before you slump back onto the mattress, panting hard and twitching from aftershocks. he removes his fingers, holding them up so you and felix could see how slick they are from being inside of you. he sticks them in his mouth, sucking at them a bit like a lollipop, and lets out an appreciative noise at the taste. you hide your face into felix’ leg, embarrassed at his actions.

jisung doesn’t let you recover before grabbing the second toy, a bright pink vibrator complete with a thrusting head. he forgoes the lube this time, choosing to scoop up your wetness onto his fingertips and spread it across the toy instead. you whine when his fingers brush your clit, overly sensitive even though it hadn’t been touched yet. he settles the tip of it against your hole, rubbing at it in tiny circles.

“what a greedy fucking pussy,” jisung says, almost clinical in the way he looks at felix with an arched brow. like he’s not talking about a person. “just came and she’s already leaking for more.”

felix just hums, dark eyes fixed on the way your bottom lip is stuck between your teeth as jisung slides the second toy into you. it settles in perfectly, leaving you so comfortably full that you think you could fall asleep like this, especially after coming as hard as you just had.

“what did i tell you?” felix says, accentuating his words with another sharp tug to your hair. “stay with us, baby.”

“i’m - ah,” your breath leaves you as jisung flicks the vibrator on. even at it’s lowest setting, it sends pulses of pleasure swimming through you, and you feel hot all over. the heat intensifies when he pushes the toy just a little further into you and presses the button for the thrusting to start. it feels strange at first, the rubber head so different to jisung or felix’s cocks, but then he angles it upwards just so and there it is.

every time you clench down onto it you feel your toes and fingertips tingle with pleasure, little pricks of static taking over your limbs. jisung holds the base close to your entrance, keeping in place as it thrusts into you in a perfectly delicious rhythm.

“this one might be my favorite,” jisung says, and he sounds like he’s kneeling down to worship something rather than kneeling to absolutely wreck you. you try and reply, but your words get swallowed by a series of sounds that escape your throat. “felix, find a way to shut her up, will you?”

it’s almost comical the way jisung turns into a control freak when it came to sex; you weren’t complaining though, even when felix hooks his thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. jisung turns the vibrations up and you come for the second time, your eyes rolling so far back that you’re almost scared they’ll get stuck there. he keeps the toy there, letting you ride out your orgasm, and he only turns it off when you start to twitch with oversensitivity.

“is it my turn now?” felix takes his thumb out of your mouth and strokes his hand down your face, leaving a trail of your spit down your cheek. “i want a turn, you’re hogging her.”

“whiny baby,” jisung tuts, but he stands up from where he had been kneeling in front of you. he drops a kiss to your inner thigh before switching spots with felix, settling in behind you.

while felix had let your hands wander, clenching in and out of fists as you got more and more into it, jisung had no such notion to give you freedom. he immediately traps your wrists into one of his hands once he was sure your head was comfortable in his lap, and his other hand comes to rest at your collarbone. it’s possessive, the way his fingers curl up just a bit like he’s waiting for a reason to run his nails down your skin.

the third toy that felix picks up is a normal dildo, clear glass in a respectable size and length, and you’re almost glad for a little normalcy right now.

“should i eat you out first? make you come on my tongue before using this?” he asks, mouth so close to your clit that you could feel his breath hitting it. it made you shiver.

“if you do that i might not last,” you groan, trying to clamp your thighs shut but you were stopped by felix’s hands. “you’ll have to scrape my body off of the bed.”

“i’ll have to do that anyways when i’m through with you,” he teases, drawing back a bit. “but you’re right. i want to see your face when i ruin you, and it’s hard to do that from down there.”

the slide of the dildo entering you was almost undetectable after jisung had dealt with you, the only thing you could feel was the coolness of the glass and the fullness in your lower belly.

you sigh, letting your head fall back into jisung. maybe felix would go easy on you for the first one? you let your body relax so felix could push it all the way in.

you regretted that almost immediately though - felix, with all of his dancer’s grace and control, knows exactly what to do with his hands. knows how to twist his wrist just right, how to speed up and slow back down in perfect timing, and it doesn’t matter that it’s just a normal dildo because he isn’t a normal fucking person.

he alternated between an insanely fast and agonizingly slow rhythm, never letting you get used to one before switching to the other. every time you got close, he’d angle it just away from your spot, leaving you teetering on the edge of an orgasm over and over.

if jisung wasn’t holding you down you’d be thrashing against the sheets right now.

when felix finally let’s you come it’s with his mouth sucking at your clit and your body taught as a rope. it feels like hours before you come down, wave after wave of boiling pleasure burning through your veins, taking over your whole body.

“okay?” jisung asks as felix pulls the toy out of you, shushing you when you whine at the feeling.

“guh,” you let out, the most intelligent response you can offer him right now. he lets go of your wrists to intertwine his hands in yours, keeping you close but knowing that you needed the grounding.

the last toy was really for them. you know that they’re little freaks inside, and you couldn’t stop yourself from selecting it - a bright green and red silicone toy, shaped like a tentacle. it’s wide at the base, about the size of your fist, and that brings up another idea that you store in your head for later. the tip is tapered, and little faux suction cups line the entire surface of the toy. it isn’t too long, but god it’s thick.

felix picks up the bottle of lube and coats the thing generously, and you’re grateful for it. for how big it is, you weren’t sure if your body was capable of slicking it up without some help.

“can’t,” you stutter out when he places the tip at your entrance, teasing it inside of you. you wanted to move away but you couldn’t, jisung made sure of that.

“you can,” jisung coos at you, the first time he’s spoken since switching places with felix. “you know what to say it you really can’t. but i think you can, baby girl.”

he’s right. through all of this, your safeword hadn’t even breached through to your consciousness. you still wanted this, as insane as it was.

“fuck, you’re stretched out,” felix curses, pushing the toy into you. you can feel it all the way in your throat, even though it was only a little over halfway inside of you. god, was he going to try and get the whole thing in?

the answer was yes, he was. he twists his wrist, letting your body get used to the girth of the toy for a moment before pulling it out almost all the way. he slowly slides it back in, and the squelch of the suction cups dragging in and out makes you flush so hard you feel lightheaded.

jisung is breathing hard behind you, and you revel in how affected he is right now. you chose well, you did good.

you’ve never had something inside of you that felt like this; it wasn’t moving but you could imagine if it was, in the ways that tentacles did in the hentai jisung made you watch - you never understood the appeal until now. you wanted it to completely engulf you. you had almost forgotten that it was attached to felix’s hand until he started pumping it in and out of you, absolutely obscene sounds filling the room from both it and your own mouth.

when you come for the last time it’s a fragile thing, slow rolls of heat washing over you, less intense but no less pleasurable. you feel floaty even felix removes the toy carefully, dumping it on the floor and pressing a flutter of kisses to your thighs. your head is sailing through the clouds just as your body feels weightless, the only thing keeping you tethered to the bed being their hands on you.

“let’s get her cleaned up,” jisung says, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“no, ‘m not done,” you mumble, half into jisung’s arm where your mouth is now squished. there’s a line of drool running from your lips down his skin, but you’re too exhausted to care about something that would normally send you into a fit of embarrassment.

“oh, she’s out,” felix sounds almost in awe, like he can’t believe the state the two of them had pushed you towards. that he couldn’t believe that, even though you couldn’t move a single limb in your body, you were still asking for more. felix reaches to the nightstand where he had placed a cool water bottle with a straw peeking out, and he holds it up to your mouth so you can suck small sips. the water feels heavenly, soothing your parched throat perfectly. did he put magic in this water? it sure feels like he did.

you didn’t realize that you were talking out loud until they laugh, the sound of it sending happiness throughout your entire body. you made them happy.

“hi baby,” felix materializes at your side, cradling your face in his hands so you are looking at him instead of the ceiling. “bath or washcloth?”

“can’t move,” you replied, hoping he’d understand. when he comes back with a washcloth and starts cleaning you up, you know he did. he knows you so well.

you let out a series of whines when he cleans around your pussy, the burn of overstimulation bordering on painful now. jisung soothes you with a kiss for each one, his hands still intertwined with yours.

you fall asleep before felix finishes, and you miss the way they both look at you with nothing but adoration in their eyes.

—

kinktober masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #lee felix smut #felix smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut #lee felix x y/n #han jisung x reader

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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every rose and its 'twin prickles'

Or: you and the two fearsome monsters, your knightly husband must wage a war against everyday, for the sake of a glimpse of you.

▸ dad!gojo satoru x mom!reader; 1.45 wc; fluff, fluff, gallons and gallons of fluff; a pair of cute, possessive and too-wise-for-their-age babies who love their mama wayyy too much; poor miserable deprived 'toru; sprinkles of humor too added in there; implied no curses!au

▸ i dump the blame of this on @afortoru's shoulders. A, look what you made me do ▸ writing this genre for the 1st time! characters, image or divider used aren't mine. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Do you know what’s the best thing about work?

Every evening it ends early.

Do you know what’s the best thing about home?

Every evening you’re there.

Walking into the barely-lit flat, a soft smile lights up the expanse of Satoru’s face as the quiet sounds of snoring float over from the bedroom. Dumping the bag on the sofa and shrugging off the coat, the man moves silently further into the apartment – weary mind conjuring images of you in an oversized black tee [of his], curled into yourself in the king-sized bed, the cutest little pout on your lips as you babble in your sleep – then pauses, a hand on the doorknob.

Two pairs of blue eyes sparkle at him from the almost-darkness of the room.

Satoru closes the door behind and slumps against it.

Two matching grins aim at his heart from the human blanket over your form.

Sharp. Shrewd. Cruel.

You wrap an arm round each of those two monkeys – the latter back here from their grandparents', two days before schedule.

Ten years ago, were anyone to tell Satoru there would be a day in the future when he would have to fight for you, only to taste defeat, again and again and again, the man would have emptied his glass of champagne on their clothes, then kicked them out of the reception party.

Yet, now... as he trudges closer to the door and extends a hand to brush a few wily wisps of hair away from your forehead – only to have it slapped away harshly by a little palm – he can’t help but wonder what sin he committed in his previous birth, to have received an angel like you as his wife, but two demons like them for his children.

Sachiko, the older of the twins, glares up at her father. “Papa, no!! Mama’s sleeping,” She whisper-yells, eyes darting from him to you than back to him, lips tugged down in a scowl, the likes of which he has only seen in a mirror. On your other side, a mop of white hair nods, albeit not without a tiny yawn – Sachiro’s definitely inherited your sleepiness in a rainy weather.

Satoru lifts an eyebrow in return. “I can see that, you two. Now go, play with your toys or something. I wanna cuddle with my wife.”

“But we too wanna cuddle with Mama,” Sachiko retorts as she slips out from under your arm and sits up on the bed. The tiny ponytail on her white head stays in a complete disarray; your husband watches your daughter tug at it a couple of times, frowning, before she gives up, returning her glower to him as she continues, “So, you can’t cuddle with her. Mama is ours now.”

Your son again gives a small “yes” at her words, followed by a yawn – a reaction which Sachiko doesn’t deem to be enough, apparently, given how she throws a glare his way next. “Hey, whose team are you on, dumbo? Mine or Papa’s?”

The answer arrives in an instant, in the most matter-of-factly voice possible from a five-year-old. “Yours, obviously. I don’t want Papa to steal Mama away. She’s ours.”

The smug grin directed his way next makes Satoru want to flick two foreheads pretty hard – but he doesn’t. Any rash or impulsive action can only do him more harm now, driving him further away from his goal.

So, cogs whirring in his brain, he crouches down to his kids’ eye level and smiles.

“What do you think of a compromise, kids? Why don’t you make a deal with me?”

Two pairs of blue clash with the original pair of blue for a while, suspicion in one, suspicious curiosity in the other, while challenge swirls in the last; before a huff breaks the staring contest and your daughter folds her arms across her chest. Exchanging a glance and a nod with her, your son too sits up and announces, “Okay, we’re interested. What’s the deal?”

Your husband lets out an internal whoop of victory.

“Belgian chocolates in exchange for a cuddling session with my wife.”

“Bleh!” Sachiko makes a disgusted face – something which takes him back to his younger days when Suguru and Shoko used to imitate his expressions – and whines, “They are so bitter, yuck! Suggest something better.”

“A doll house for you and a car for Sachiro, if that’s the case.”

The latter is the one to turn down this time. Tone brimmed with disappointment – something he can only ever learn from you – he says, “But you just bought us one last month, Papa! Mama always asks you to save money... why don’t you ever listen to her?”

A knife of guilt lodges itself into his heart and twists. Satoru sighs. “I do... I try to, always, but you two make it so difficult for me to! Why are you like this? Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her? She is as much my wife as much she’s your mom.”

“We know,” The addressed two answer in unison with sage little nods of their head. The girl continues with a grave expression matching her brother’s, “But we can also ask you the same, Papa. She is as much our mom as she’s your wife. Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”

“Besides, you spent five extra years with her, before we were born. We just want to make up for the time lost,” Sachiro chimes in with a pout. “Tell us, Papa,” The two again speak in a heart-wrenching chorus, “Is it so unfair to want to spend some time with her?”

“The kids are right, y’know?” A mumble pops the gravity of the situation at hand, and Satoru looks down to find you awake, cracking an amused smile at them. He huffs, rising from the floor and plopping on the bed next to you, arms folded against chest.

“Can’t believe I am so unloved and unwanted in this world. My kids don’t love me. They don’t listen to me. My wife too doesn’t love me. She never supports me. Welp, got to be the unluckiest to be in my shoes right now, I guess.”

Your husband pauses, giving a small break for the words to sink into everyone, before you let out a long exhale and send him a minor twitch of your lips. Sachiko moves to pat his head, the same moment Sachiro reaches over to clasp his small arms around his neck. You too rise and embrace him from behind, placing a small kiss in between his shoulder blades.

“Y’know, it’s not like that,” You say, placing your ear on his back, “Just ’cause the kids love me more doesn’t mean they don’t love you. And it’s not even your fault – my personality is so awesome, everyone can’t help but adore me the moment they see me – isn't that right, babies?”

“Right, Mama,” A pair of wonderstruck voices ring out in reply to your jocular question – you continue in the same note, with another kiss, this time on the nape of his neck.

“And because your awesome Mama’s asking you now, will you two be good babies and let Papa too sleep here with us? Look at him: he’s so tired and sad. You don’t want your dearest Papa to be sad and tired, right? You will let him cuddle with us, won't you?”

Satoru watches the twins look at each other for a second, then the younger acquiesce, “Papa can cuddle with us. That’s okay, maybe.” The two then proceed to shoot a particularly sharp look at him; one he responds to with a cheeky smirk, which disappears into a soft smile when he feels you manoeuvre his face towards yourself, a light grasp on his chin.

“See, the kids agreed. Now, are you feeling loved and wanted?”

“Infinitely more,” He replies with a peck on your lips – however, before he can deepen the kiss a tad more, you bring him into a sleeping posture beside you, the kids immediately piling on top of the two of you. You offer him something between a cute pout and a sorry smile, which earns a wink from your husband.

Turning to one side, Satoru drags you, Sachiko lying on top of you and Sachiro lying in between him and you, into himself, letting him be lulled to sleep by the melody of your laughs and your kids’ half-hearted harrumphs.

Do you know what’s the best thing about life?

Every tiniest bit of it he gets to spend beside you, the light of his life, and the two imps, your and his love brought into this world – even if he knows he’s going to get kicked out of bed the very microsecond you fall asleep again.

▸ masterlist

#dad!gojo x mom!reader #dad!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo fic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

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muniimyg · 8 months

Text

NAKED // KNJ

note to self: take baths alone from now on

in which nam joon takes any and every opportunity to see you naked

pairing: boyfriend nam joon + oc

au/genre:

(new) established relationship

non-idol au

fluff, crack, and smut

warnings:

explicit langauge and behaviour ...

cockwarming & riding,, some titty grabbing & basic ass position changes

THEY SAY ILY FOR THE FIRST TIME :D

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

The water is colder than you expected.

Your body reacts with goosebumps to which you let out a shiver. Maybe you took too much time getting everything ready that you missed this bath water’s prime temperature… Guess you didn’t girl-math this right.

Oh well.

There’s always next time, right?

Thankfully, his bare body holding yours makes it easier to adjust. He nuzzles his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, not missing the chance to hold your breasts for a moment. You scold him as if it’s second nature and he leaves a trail of kisses up and down your neck as an apology.

Then, you take this moment in. Honestly, setting up music was a good idea. Along with the scented candles, the bubbles in your bath, the bath lavender bath bomb, and the bath salts—all such amazing details. Everything would’ve been perfect if only Nam Joon wasn’t complaining every five seconds.

“I hate baths.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“The bath salts went up my ass—”

Finally, you shush him.

“Please,” he cries, “can we fuck?”

Rolling your eyes, you raise your hand and flick him with your fingers. He purses his lips and shuts his eyes in response. Nam Joon sighs, feeling defeated for the nth time tonight. Prior to this bath, he had suggested shower sex. To which, you argued you’d be too afraid to try since you’re as clumsy as they come… And he himself… Well, it was nice of him to ask.

It’s not like you didn’t want to have sex tonight… No, of course, you do. Your handsome and beefy boyfriend was naked, holding you.. Who wouldn’t be turned on? You just feel like being annoying. You want to push him as far as you can. You want to see how good he stays. How well self-disciplined he is.

So, you sink into his body again, taking another deep breath in.

Let’s try this again.

Relax.

You want to relax.

That’s all you want to do.

It doesn’t last. A few giggles escape your lips as he begins to place small kisses on your shoulder all the way to the sides of your face.

“Nam Joon…” you attempt to sound annoyed.

In his low voice, he hums; “Yes, my love?”

“You’re not making me feel relaxed!” Suddenly, you squirm as he bites your shoulder playfully. “I want to—stop that! I just want to relax, Joonie! You said you wanted to join me. You insisted.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs, only half meaning his apology. No, he wasn’t sorry. He was a man, after all. What idiot would turn down being naked in a tub of water with you? Fucking losers, that’s who.

He squishes your body closer to him. “So... is this what you do?”

You nod.

“Is this all that you do? This is so boring. You don’t even have those ducks to play with or like a toy boat that moves—”

“Nam Joon,” you warn, groaning at how talkative he’s becoming. “You can leave. I wouldn’t mind watching you ass walk away right now.”

He laughs in response, getting the hint. You want to relax. He wants to be with you. This was the middle ground.

“Sorry,” he means it this time. “I’m just bored.. Like, I pictured this to be more… Sexy? Aren’t you supposed to seduce me?” Nam Joon wiggles his eyebrows at you. To that, you offer him and confused look.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve been seducing you this entire time..” you gaslight.

He lowers his gaze. “You’ve been ignoring me since the minute we settled in the tub.”

“Aren’t you turned on?”

“No.”

You smile at him warmly, yet your tone is cold. “My love, if that’s the case… Then why do I feel your dick poking in between my legs right now?”

He gulps.

“It’s hard.”

“I thought you said it’s boring.”

Nam Joon whines, “___, my dick is hard. I’m bored. Please sit on it.”

You gasp.

Although, you can’t say you aren’t surprised. You’ve been together for less than a year yet he has never missed a chance to suggest such acts. Most days, you’d give in and it would be a good time. But today… You figure it would be much more fun to be a tease. This mood is sponsored by your incoming period. Regardless if it’s PMS or all your stress from work; it didn’t really matter. You just knew you weren't in the mood for super wet, slippery, hot sex in cold bath water. Imagine all the water that would be splashed on the floor! You’d be the one left to clean all of it up. Nam Joon would probably slip and hurt himself if you ordered him to do the cleaning duties.

“Okay,” you tease. “I’ll sit on your dick.”

He cheers.

“But I won’t move.”

“W-what?” Nam Joon blinks.

You shrug, pushing yourself up on his lap. When you find his length, you quickly guide it inside of you. No warning, not even a little rub in between. Nam Joon gulps the second he feels his cock inside of you. Unlike the water, you’re so warm. He hisses, feeling his dick begin to throb inside your tight walls.

“M-mean,” he hisses. “You’re so mean.”

Ignoring him, you sink yourself even deeper. Now, he’s fully inside you and you’re completely sitting on him. You feel his tip and how far he is inside you.. It makes your body feel tingles and you honestly contemplate if you should just give in.

He feels so good.

… And you hate to admit it but you overestimated yourself.

You’re having a hard time too.

Yet, you stick it through. You have to! Rare are the moments you get where Nam Joon loses complete control.

“You asked me to sit on your dick. Sure, I’ll sit on your dick… But I’m not moving. I’m not going reverse cowgirl style. I’m not going doggy. I’m not fucking you.”

“So you’re just going to cockwarm me?” he asks, feeling betrayed. “But you love riding me!”

You glare at him. “No, I don’t. It’s tiring. It’s boring.”

Nam Joon’s eyebrows furrow together. He tries his best to focus on your words and not how perfect you are inside of him. He’s stressed as fuck but he needs to prove to you that he can get through this… He has a feeling that winning you over will get him the reward he’s been after.

“Then why do you do it?”

This is news to him too. You always looked like you enjoyed riding him. Honestly, you probably ride him more than you two do in any other position. Also, why would he question it? You never really complained until now. It’s one of the things he liked so much about you.. It’s like, you just knew him.

“You love it and I love you—”

Your eyes widen.

Did you really just say that? All this time, you were worried about slipping… Who knew it wasn’t about your body but rather your words?

You two haven’t said it to each other yet. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. In this position too? In a fucking cold ass bath? It should’ve been more romantic! Plus, he should’ve said it first! You had it all planned out.. You were going to get it out of him before you could say it first.

As you open your mouth to deny, take back, or spit out an excuse, his words make your world stop.

“I love you too.”

Your breath hitches. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.. For the past like… Six months but I couldn’t find the right moment. I figured one day, you’d just get it out of me yourself.” Nam Joon looks awfully shy to you right now. It makes your heart flutter.

“I thought the same,” you confess. “I wanted you to say it first.”

“Okay,” Nam Joon chuckles, “Then I said it first.”

Your heart begins to pound louder and faster. God, was he always this good with words? In all honesty, Nam Joon has no problem being the first to yield or confess.. He just needed time. Right now, he knew it well. You’re the right person at the right time. He’s so grateful.

“I wanted it to be more romantic.”

Instantly, he dips his head and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “A slow kiss. Romantic, right? Better?”

You shake your head.

“You have to hold my hand when you say it,” you whine. “It only makes sense that way.”

“Then, you have to look at me,” he negotiates. “You can’t be looking the other way when I say it.”

“Fine.”

You shift, pulling his dick out for a second. You adjust yourself, opening your legs and facing him. Now, your breasts were completely in front of him. He takes slow deep breaths as you put him inside you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head.

God, you’re so sexy.

With or without clothes, Nam Joon thinks you’re the sexiest human to ever exist. It wasn’t because your body was perfect; it was all because of the way you carried your confidence. It was that exact something he sensed and fell into an intense trance over. Moments like these play over and over in his head when he’s away from you. Moments where he feels so close to you. Physically, this was it. There is nothing more he could ask for.

You: naked and on top of him.

But more than that, what makes moments like these so special is the fact that he feels like he knows your soul. Bare, imperfect and so loving. It was sexy to have someone like you. It was something he had never experienced before with past loves. This was a first for him. A first real, sexy, and beautiful love. It was more than your body—it always has been. Regardless, who is he to not try? At the end of the day, he has needs.

“Say it.”

He laughs as he intertwines your fingers together. He raises them above the water to show you. Bringing your hands to his lips, he looks up at you and kisses your knuckles.

“I love you, ___.”

You pout.

He kisses your wrist and then pulls you closer to him. He kisses your breast, your collarbone, your shoulder, your cheeks, and the corner of your lip. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I’m sorry it took a cold bath to get it out of me.”

“Should’ve taken a bath together sooner.”

He laughs into your kiss. “Too bad the bath salts aren’t making me feel too sexy right now,” he confesses his uncomfortability. This is his last attempt. “Unless…”

“Spit it out,” you say, unamused.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not fucking in this bath of cold water, Joon. Give it up!” you laugh as you cup his cheeks together. You squish his lips with your thumb and index, making kissy faces at him. “No more fucking around.”

His suggestive eyes suddenly soften. “Fucking? ___, I wanted to make love… Since, you know.. I love you.”

Three times.

He said, “I love you,” three times now.

And perhaps, you’re not built for this hard-to-get lifestyle when the love of your life says such dreamy things. Of course, you’d give in. As they all say; the third time’s a charm.

You burst into laughter, unable to hold yourself back. Desperately, you kiss him for what feels like forever, and as much as you resist; you end up riding him.

The second you move yourself up and down, Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he smiles into the kiss. He can’t believe he won you over.

“Fucking finally… Or should I say… Finally fucking?” Nam Joon chides, liking his word play more than he should.

Nerd alert.

You grunt, “s-shut up.”

As you two continue to make out, you begin to move your hips as you slowly but surely begin to bounce on his hard cock. It feels so good to finally do this. As you move at a faster pace, the water begins to splash and for a second, you turn your head to make sure it isn’t going to flood the floor. But Nam Joon places his hand on your chin and the top of your neck, guiding you to look at him.

“Don’t look away,” he hisses. “It’s just water. Focus on me.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheeks.

For stability, you place your hands on his chest. You feel his heart and how fast it’s racing. His skin has little goosebumps due to the cold water, but you can also see sweat from his forehead lightly layer on top of his perfect skin. His eyebrows are knitted together, as he gathers all his mental strength not to cum yet. At one point, you see his lips make an ‘o’. Why was he trying so hard to last?

“Just cum,” you assure him. “It’s fine.”

He shakes his head, refusing to give in this early. “It’s your fucking boobs,” Nam Joon blames. “Mmhff—s-shit. What the hell. Fuck it.”

Without warning, he places his hands on your waist and lifts you up. Nam Joon gently, yet firmly, turns you over. Your chin rests just over the rim of the tub, along with your arms. Your back is arched as he backs your ass up to his dick. He takes his fingers and plays with your clit for a bit. You moan, unable to fathom just how fucking sexy this all is. You feel yourself coming close. Before you know it, he sticks himself back in and begins to pump. Nam Joon pumps himself at a steady pace. At first, they were short and fast strokes that made the water spill over and you moan louder than usual. As you reach your peak and so does he; his strokes transition to long and deep ones.

After a few more pumps, he lets himself go and cups your breasts with his hands. You don’t feel his cum inside of you as your walls still tingle, but you know it’s inside. Regardless of the water, you just know he creamed you messy as usual.

As you two catch your breath, he kisses your neck once again.

“For round two…” Nam Joon teases, “I’m thinking shower sex. Thoughts?”

“Haha,” you play along. “No.”

Nam Joon pouts, giving you puppy eyes. “... But I love you.”

You can’t help but melt.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You know for a fact he’ll be using this line for a while… And it’ll work. He’ll get you every time. But it’s okay! You love him too. You want him too. You need him too.

Besides, you’ll be charging him the water bill.

#knj fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagine #bts one shot #bts boyfriend au #nam joon boyfriend #bts rm #bts rm smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x oc #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #bts scenario #bts fluff #namjoon fluff

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simpxxstan · 5 days

Text

Nobody Else (final: part 2)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), arranged marriage, a lot of angst, and some fluff.

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 22.8k

warnings: angst warnings: overthinking, anxiety, a lot of it. spiralling, constant worries, mention of insomnia. mention of illnesses and a lung tumour, hospitals, medical treatments, relapse. discussions about death. please do not read if you find these triggering! a lot of arguing and usage of profanities. mention of smoking, drinking, food.

smut warnings: oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart, princess, baby for female), degradation, usage of sir (for male), sir kink, marriage kink, breeding kink, office sex, elevator sex, sex in a public place.

a/n: OH MY GOD. so many people were waiting for this, i can't even imagine. i've had some really tough months when i could not find time to write at all, so i am very sorry for the delay. well, here you go! i hope it meets your satisfactions! putting the taglist in a reblog because the fanfic itself is massive. please let me know your thoughts!! reblogs, comments and asks are so appreciated <3 thank you for reading!

part 1

You bite your nails nervously. You do this often, it’s a habit you mask well through regular manicures at your home. No one knows about it. No one needs to know.

You’ve tried it all in these last two days, you swear. You’ve tried every trick on the web- listing the pros and cons of your thoughts on a sheet of paper (on your phone’s notes app), venting to someone (yourself in the mirror), meditation, drinking wine and unwinding in a bathtub, listening to white noise to help you sleep.

It doesn’t help. Nothing does. Nothing helps to erase the thoughts from your mind, nothing helps to stop the cogs and wheels of the gears turning in your head, nothing helps to drown out the noise of your overthinking. You’ve worried yourself to a fever, and it’s on the fourth day that Jisung caves in and asks you, “Ma’am, are you doing okay?”

You can trust him, you know that. He had, after all, not outed your antics to your mother in spite of her attempts at bribing him with a higher salary. He had remained loyal to you, as he had himself confirmed when you’d brought up the issue with him the day after the fateful lunch invitation.

But he feels too close, too personal, and yet too distant. He would understand, and yet nothing at all. It feels like a gamble.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” You smile, while popping another paracetamol. At least the fever and its meds help you sleep.

“You don’t look like yourself. I don’t know if I am in a position to say this, but… is this about the thing your mother discussed with you Ma’am?”

“Are you reading my mind, Jisung-ah? Is that your secret to being the best secretary in the world?” You chuckle drily, staring outside the glass window that makes up a wall in your office. It’s a rainy day, not the stormy kind, but the pestering kind. Where it drizzles light enough that people don’t want to carry umbrellas, but the rain is so insistent, it drenches you right through anyway.

“I don’t know how appropriate it is for me to ask anything regarding this Ma’am. But I genuinely am curious about how Mr Y/L/N and Mr Jeon agreed to it in the first place.”

On the day you’d spoken to him about the entire affair, you’d told him the truth about your relationship with Wonwoo. His loyalty had earned him at least this much truth, and you were glad to have a confidant. You tried to play it off as coolly as you could, but as soon as you’d spilled the truth, you’d realise what a big weight had been relieved off your chest. It felt like being a teenager again. You had explained to Jisung that it was not romantic in the least, and in fact, you wanted to draw an end to it. You didn’t care to tell him that it was because you were addicted like a drug.

That was the problem. These last three days wouldn’t have become such a burden for you had you simply called Wonwoo and sought his help. Like a magician, he’d silence the thoughts in your mind and leave you with more clarity than ever, almost like a fresh slate beginning anew. You knew he was the perfect solution, but you had decided to cut it off. There was no point in persisting in this kind of a relationship where you weren’t even friends, not even on talking terms, and yet you needed him to stabilise you. All while he didn’t need you at all. For him, you were just another of his regulars. He’s probably already replaced you by now.

“My mother can be… very capable when she wants. She has her ways.”

“I’m sure she does. It must not have been an easy feat to swallow pride to agree to the idea of the wedding and take the Jeons out for lunch.”

Words get stuck in your throat. Pride. You’ve never let go of it. Life has been humbling, but you’ve never stopped being proud of who you are and what you’ve been able to achieve. All the dreams you’ve fulfilled. It forms an integral part of who you’ve become, your identity, and the way you perceive yourself. You’ve tried to not let it become arrogance nor vanity, although you have had sufficient reasons. That discipline is also something you pride yourself on.

“But I guess it’s not a big price for happiness,” Jisung completes his little philosophical speech and busies himself with arranging out letters on your desk that need to be signed, arranged in order of urgency. “I’ll be at my desk Ma’am, should you need any help.” He bows and leaves the room, and you’re still staring out of the window.

Happiness.

What an odd word. What an odd sensation for the billions of people across the world to be chasing all their lives. You had always considered yourself to be above that rat race for gratification and validation. Your successes spoke for itself, and you had no reason to consider yourself unhappy when you were living the dream you’d envisioned since you were a child.

But are you happy?

It’s just for an enjoyable late night drive, you reason with yourself when you find yourself driving on the road that takes you from your office to Wonwoo’s office building. It’s just to see if their coffee has improved, you think, when you step into the building and walk inside. It’s just to see if their employees are forced to work overtime, you figure, when you’re granted a visitor pass by the reception desk even though they’re shocked to see you here.

“What are you doing here?”

Wonwoo stares at you from the end of the corridor. It’s not lit very brightly and totally empty.

“Are you busy?”

Wonwoo’s tongue goes into his left cheek, you see it through his skin. He’s wearing a suit in baby blue. You knew he’d look good in blue.

“Yes. I’m working late as you can see. I don’t enjoy it particularly, so I don’t do it unless I’m really behind on work.”

And why’s that so? Trying to catch up with our closing figures for the financial year? A snarky comment is on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to say it. The jibe feels tasteless, even for you.

No, tonight you’re here in desperation, you finally admit to yourself. You’re here because like any other addict, it’s hard to let go once you get used to the high of happiness you ride when the dopamine kicks in.

“Sorry. I’ll leave.” His rejection is clear. He knows what you’re here for, that’s for sure. You’d never go out of your way to come to his office if it had been for anything else. It’s a good reminder call of reality.

This is the boy your parents want you to marry. This is the boy you rejected from marrying and from sleeping with. He has every right to turn you down now.

Wonwoo takes a step forward, you take a step backward. It’s a dance. You pause, you don’t even know when you were on the verge of tears. You bite your lips and turn away your face. You walk away quickly, as silently as you arrived. Your thoughts are loud enough to mask the sound of Wonwoo jogging after you, and you only realise when he grabs your arm as soon as you enter the elevator. He enters too, naturally, face a bit flushed from the chase, but before you can ask him what’s up, he pushes you against the mirror on the back of the elevator and kisses you hard.

It knocks your breath away. In the best way possible.

You kiss him back. Wildly, passionately. Like lovers, you would think in retrospection, not like rivals who fuck. As if you’d missed each other. Another second of overthinking and you’d delude yourself into believing that he needs you as much as you do. But thankfully, he kisses well enough to wash your thoughts away.

“Don’t run away from me like that, girl.” He snarls near your ear, his breath making you ticklish, and you whimper when he begins to kiss your neck. He’s going to leave marks again, and frankly, you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him. Not when your brain is finally drifting away from the anxiety.

The elevator dings just as he puts his lips back on yours, tongue forcing itself in. You break apart, gasping for air. You haven’t even noticed what a mess you’ve made of his hair. “Wonwoo I… I can leave, really. If you’re busy.” “No, stay.” He doesn’t step away from you even when the elevator door opens, holding you down with his hands, keeping you close to him. The elevator door closes again, and he frantically presses the floor number of his office. “Come with me while I pack up,” he says as an explanation, and you understand. Then he unbuttons your shirt and begins to suck bruises all over the exposed flesh over your collarbones and chest, hands fondling with your breasts. Even over the bra, he instantly finds your nipples and rubs them to perfect hardness, making them so sensitive, that when he lifts you up into his arms and wraps your legs around his waist, your nipples brush against his face and he can feel the nubs poking out.

“You get turned on like you’re a touch-starved bitch,” he says roughly, making you thrash your arms against his back for the rudeness, before chuckling and thrusting his mouth onto the clothed nipples to suck them while he walks out of the elevator, holding you in his arms still, and seemingly facing no difficulty in walking at all. You become silent again, as you ponder on how strong he really must be, and his bites at your nipples do nothing to prevent the manhandling kink from showing itself.

“Take me on your desk, Wonwoo.” You beg as he enters his office, but he laughs and puts you down on his chair. Thankfully the entire floor is empty. He begins to arrange papers and turn off his desktop, while you sit silently at his desk. The high slowly wears out as his clearing up takes longer and longer, until you’re no longer turned on anymore and reality strikes.

He looks at you once all the work is done, staring deep at your soul, making you feel naked. Consciously, you start to button up your shirt and fix your collar.

“I thought we were done with this, Y/N.”

He says it like you’d dumped him while dating, and it’s funny. But you can’t laugh. You did cut him off and now you’re begging him to take you back. It’s a little absurd- inconsistency has never been one of your weaknesses. You’re tempted to dissect it in your brain and understand why it’s happening, but you fall into a spiral of overthinking again.

It’s getting tough to breathe.

You stand up and walk around the room. It’s spacious, with a simple layout, nothing modern like your own office space. You can’t blame it, it definitely screams Wonwoo to you. Instead of huge windows on the walls, he has mahogany shelves stacked with books. Instead of a statement chandelier, he has minimalist lights in focal points of the room. Instead of a charcoal grey settee with everything in cool shades of steel, his office is done in off-white, decorated with rich tones of wood. The room tells you so much about Wonwoo, although you probably know it all already- legacy, tradition and diligence. This is what he’s made of, old money that takes no risks and succeeds without gambles.

“You know why I had to come back.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” He walks up to you, standing in front of you, as you gaze at the books on his shelves. “Y/N, look at me.” And you do. He looks like Adonis and you want to kiss him. “You said it was getting toxic for you.” He snaps you back to attention, and you sigh. “I can’t… Wonwoo, I tried. But I…” you walk away, unable to continue. Continuing would mean telling him what’s driving you to the brink of anxiety every moment of the day.

“We can talk. If this is about that day, we’re in this together. We may not be friends, but we can be allies in this.”

The simple way in which he says these words, you don’t think he realises how much more vulnerable he makes you feel. How much more tempted to spill it all to him and be relieved of the burden of this worry.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Wonwoo. I didn’t come here for talking.” You walk back towards him. “Fuck me and make my brain stop thinking, please.” He closes his eyes for a second. The tension is palpable, it’s making your palms sweat. You tilt your head and gently lean in to kiss the edge of his jaw. His stubble grazes against your softer lips and it’s a nice feeling.

“I can’t say no when you ask like this.”

You wake up in the middle of the night, clammy with sweat and naked under the sheets, alone in Wonwoo’s king-sized bed. Your wrists hurt from being tied with his tie for too long, and you’re definitely too sore to move, but the pleasant buzz all over your body is too good a sensation to forgo. But now that you’ve woken up, you feel thirsty and hot all over, so you get out of bed. You notice your underwear neatly kept on the couch, Wonwoo had taken care to not rip them. You quickly wear them before looking for any waterbottle in the room. Seeing none, and not seeing Wonwoo either, you open the bedroom door and slowly tiptoe your way outside. Once past the small corridor, you notice there’s a dim light in the kitchen, and you can see Wonwoo’s shadow from far away. As you step closer, you notice he’s wearing formals, complete with a glazing white shirt and a grey tie, and his hair is brushed back neatly, although his pants are still pyjamas. He’s doing something on his laptop. You wait in the shadows for a few minutes, trying to understand if he’s in a video meeting or something, but you only hear frantic typing noises from the kitchen. After a whole five minutes pass, you step into the kitchen, and Wonwoo looks up at the same time.

“Oh! You scared me.”

“Are you in a meeting?”

“No, it got over a while back. Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“The meeting was with a firm in Canada. They couldn’t adjust timings.”

“And you couldn’t get someone else to do it for you?” You huff, annoyed at how unbothered he is about waking up this ungodly hour and sitting for meetings. You once again thank Jisung for scheduling foreign meetings at suitable timings.

“Do you get someone else to attend your important meetings for you?”

You both stay in silence for a minute, Wonwoo sitting on his kitchen stool, and you standing awkwardly near the door, staring at each other. It’s only when you start shivering in the cold that you realise what you actually came here for.

“You’re working hard. Too hard. Don’t try to compete with me, Jeon.” You lean down on the island next to him, close enough to hear his breathing but not touching him at all.

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“I was thirsty. Where do you keep water in your house?”

He gets up from his stool and brings a bottle. “Drink, and go to sleep. Or go home.”

You silently sip the cool water, without replying. You can see the dawn slowly coming up from the window in the kitchen, lighting the room up. The circles under Wonwoo’s eyes become prominent to you, and for no reason at all, your heart aches. This is what it’s going to be like, marrying you, Jeon Wonwoo, you think, as you look at him with a careful glance. He’s focusing on his laptop again, typing at light speed, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. You’re sipping water from his bottle, in his kitchen, wearing nothing but your underwear, and watching the sunrise. Is this what those nights filled with deadlines and insomnia are going to look like if you get married? Is this what staying up together will look like? Is this what watching the dawn together will be like? The sensation tingles your nerves and makes you anxious again.

“Y/N, if you want to say something, just say it. Or go to sleep, trust me. You’ll need to wake up fresh tomorrow morning.��

The kitchen is warm, cosy, and filled with the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s body. You want to stay wrapped in it, and not say a word. You don’t want to break this moment, although you have no idea why sharing this simple moment is making you so emotional. Perhaps because you’ve never done it before and never imagined you would do it?

“My father is dying, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo stops typing and looks up.

“He has a tumour in his lungs.”

“Since when?”

“A few months now. He hadn’t told me. He didn’t want to bother me, my mom said.”

There’s a beat of silence. Again the warmth of the kitchen wraps you up and you both stare out at the slowly brightening sky outside. As a girl, you’d hate watching the sunrise. It would remind you of the nights you’d been unable to sleep and had been forced to stay up all night. But now, you can appreciate its beauty. Its consistency, its reliability. It happens every day. One of the precious few things that happen regularly, you’ve come to realise.

Wonwoo breaks the silence. “So why now?”

“Huh?”

“Why tell you now, of all times?”

“He wants to see me married before he dies.”

Wonwoo shuts down the lid of his laptop with a smash, knowing fully what’s coming next.

“Y/N. What do you want?” He stands up and comes to stand next to you, leaning against the counter and looking down at you.

There are many things you want to say. I don’t want to throw away my freedom. I don’t want to marry a stranger. I don’t want to dance to my Appa’s whims. I don’t want to lose focus on my career. I don’t want to marry you. “I don’t want to disappoint him, Wonwoo.” It’s the ultimate truth. It’s what has fueled you for years- the desire to become that child for your parents who would take care of them when they need you, to love silently and support unconditionally, to give back everything they’d given to you.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Is this what you were so worried about?” You look up at him, and he tilts your face upwards with his hand on your chin. You want to lean into the warmth of his palm. “Yes. I don’t… I … I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.”

“What about treatment?”

“Stage 4, practically impossible, that’s what the reports say. My mom showed them to me. She cried so much, and I… I couldn’t do anything. I can’t do anything.” You move away from him, turning your body to the other side. He lets you move away.

“Treatment abroad? In the US?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve spoken to a few people, but Appa is adamant. He refuses to talk to me about this every time I’ve raised it, these last few days.”

He sighs. Your heart aches again. You don’t even notice when tears begin rolling down your cheeks. You’ve never felt more alone than this, more helpless, more pitiful. What worth were your dreams and successes if life successfully left you unshielded in one stroke?

“Let’s get married. You’ll have more bargaining power to talk to him then.”

He makes it sound so simple. You’ve thought of this a hundred times before, and you still can’t register that he just said that. You turn around slowly, looking up at him through your wet eyelashes. “Don’t joke with me.”

“I’m not.”

“But I don’t want to marry you.”

“Even if it gets your Appa into a good treatment abroad?”

You stomp your foot, and hurt your bare toes on the cold tile. “Why is my Appa so stubborn?”

“Just like you, isn’t he?”

You glare at Wonwoo, but he’s deadly serious. There’s not a hint of a joke on his face, and he genuinely seems to be invested in this idea. “You’re serious.” “I am. I wouldn’t offer marriage to you casually.” You bite your lip, your heart rate begins to slow down. Wave after wave of calm washes over you, suddenly you can breathe well again. “You’re serious,” you say again, not believing it still. “I am. Do you want me to go down on my knees?” “Wonwoo, you’re not thinking about this. Don’t turn your back on me when you regret it later. This isn’t a light thing, it’s a marriage, for fuck’s sake!” “Is your Appa’s life more precious than your ego?” “If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have come begging to you, would I?” “Then you know why I’m agreeing to this.” “Wonwoo, don’t take this on your conscience. I’ll forgive you if you step back right now.” “I won’t forgive myself.” He bends down to your eye level, and takes your chin in his hand again. “It isn’t going to be that bad, is it?”

You let out such a big sigh of relief that you’re sure the air tickles Wonwoo’s palm holding on to your chin.

You don’t fall asleep that night, or rather morning. Wonwoo makes tea, and you sit on the living room couch, an arm’s distance away from each other, chalking out a plan to convince your Appa to go abroad for treatment.

“When did your mother come and tell you all this?”

“The day after the lunch. She called me over.”

You’re our breadwinner now, Y/N. Your father didn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want to bother you anymore. Your mother’s words echo in your mind. Is this what you’d come down to? Were you that male who couldn’t be bothered with any problems of the household just because you earned an income? Had you become those slimy men you’d hated all your life? Just because you had taken over the company didn’t mean you had stopped being their daughter, for god’s sake.

“He wants to die in Korea, he says.”

“That doesn’t mean we let him die without treatment.”

We. Wonwoo has started using it so freely, as if he’s truly considering you an ally like he had said before.

“What are you going to get out of this?” You perch yourself on the kitchen counter, your bare legs dangling next to where Wonwoo sits on his stool. You’re chewing on the granola bar you found in the fridge because you’re suddenly hungry.

Wonwoo looks at you for a second, pensive and thoughtful in the pause before replying. “We don’t have to do forever and always. We can divorce after the treatment is done.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I have my reasons.”

The sunrise is beautiful, another day has begun. Although one tornado in your heart has calmed down, it doesn’t mean you’re completely at peace though. You’re still burning with worry, there are a thousand questions floating in your head. You don’t know the answers to most of them, and you’re scared just like you had been when you had stepped into the adult world on your own footing, for the first time. But unconsciously, you’ve come to realise that you’re not alone this time.

You have Jeon Wonwoo with you.

You drive directly to your sister’s house to tell her about your decision. You realise that she has no idea that your mother has spilled the news about your father’s health to you, when you tell her that you’re only agreeing to this marriage on one condition. She tries to deny it at first, but then she realises it’s a useless task against your obstinacy.

“If you could admit now that you were dating Wonwoo, why didn’t you admit it that day?” she says finally, resignedly.

“So that you could hide Appa’s illness from me forever?

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Firstly, tell me why you’d been stalking me for so long.”

“Not for so long. Ever since Appa found out, he became obsessed with settling you down. It’s become his last wish, you know, that kind of thing. His last project. His last duty. His last task to complete before he… you know. It was just a happy coincidence that as soon as we prodded your chauffeur he spilled that you and Wonwoo had been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You scoff.

“Yeah, well, Wonwoo and I needed to talk over things. Commitment and stuff. Anyway, now we’ll give Appa what he wants. Promise me you won’t object to anything I say. Promise me you and Mom will back me up when I take him to the US for treatment.”

Her eyes soften down, tears brimming on the edge.

“He always loved you more, you know? Probably because you’re exactly like him.” “Unnie…” “No! I’m not jealous or anything. It’s natural to have a favourite child. He’s only human, after all. He found his ideal child in you- responsible and independent. He really sees himself in you, that’s why.”

You hug your sister from the side, as you sit down on the couch. Her belly is quite bulging now, stretched against the fabric of the loose lycra dress.

“If anyone can convince him, it’s you, Y/N-ah. Our maknae. The apple of his eye.” She smiles. There’s something so broken in her eyes, and you hate it. Your Unnie, who you’ve never seen sad. You wonder how much she’s had to hide from you to keep this news a secret. You wonder how long they’d planned to keep it a secret, anyway.

“Do you trust me, Unnie?”

She kisses your forehead, and smiles again, “Yes of course. Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s just… nothing. I just want to know I’m not alone.”

“You never were, sweetheart.”

After that, everything becomes a whirlwind. You barely have time to process things, how fast they happen. Wonwoo informs his parents, there’s another meal shared by the two families. You both still don’t tell anyone the truth about your relationship, and frankly, there’s no need to explain, when both families are so happy with the wedding. Especially your father. His eyes shine, and you stick by his side all evening.

“My little girl’s all grown up now.” He says to you later. You almost cry at the fondness of his words, affection he rarely shows. There’s no more words spoken. There’s no need for words. You tuck him into bed, and pat him to sleep. You don’t want to leave his side at all.

You don’t cross paths with Wonwoo for the week running up to the wedding. There’s a clear division of work- he’s handling the internal logistics, and you’re running the external front. This is nothing but a business project for the two of you. You’ve pushed the worries about the marriage to the back burner, your priority being your father right now. You’ve already booked a treatment plan for him in the US, booked his flight tickets, and sorted everything out. Of course, you haven’t approached the topic with him yet, but you drop hints every day.

You’ve decided to live with your parents until the wedding. You find it harder to stay away from them these days. Somehow, everything reminds you of them, and you’re brought to tears in the middle of a work meeting one day, when you remember how your father had brought you to the first stakeholder meeting when you were 16 years old, to introduce you to the world of business. You don’t want to leave life upto fate anymore. At least not the bits you can help.

Part of managing the external front is speaking to the media. There’s countless questions at your latest press conference. Although the conference is to launch a new product, the journalists seem to be more interested in hearing the truth about the rumours currently floating around. You’d expected this, that’s why you’d timed the release of the rumours and the launch of the product at the same time. The public opinion needs to be in favour of your marriage, otherwise the alliance would hurt you both.

“Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, is it true that you’re soon getting married to Jeon Wonwoo-ssi of Jeon Estates?”

You blush, again a carefully practised move. You’ve spent many a minute in front of a youtube screen last night, trying to perfect the fake blush.

“Are we really going to discuss personal matters at an official conference like this?” Another measured smile, followed by a general laugh rippling across the audience for the sake of being polite. “But yes, it’s true. I won’t try to hide it anymore.”

At that very moment, a thousand questions pop up from all corners. “Anymore? Y/L/N Y/N-ssi, does that mean that you’ve been together for a long time now?” “Can we expect a merger of Jeon Estates with your company, then?” “Is the marriage a business decision or an affair of love?”

You’re another fake smile away from throwing up right now. Their curiosity gets on your nerves, you know that no matter what you say, they’re going to interpret what they really want to. Thankfully Jisung, who is moderating, carefully steps in and stops the journalists from asking any more questions. “We’ll not be taking any more personal questions. With that we come to the end of the conference. If you have any more questions, please write to us and we shall answer them over mail. Thank you for attending today.”

You exit the conference hall quickly, eyes hurting from the flashlights. It’s going to only get worse, you think. Time to brace for impact.

It’s only the night before the wedding that you get the jitters. You’re sitting on the floor of the balcony, looking at the roads of the Seoul night view, stress-eating cotton candy. You can’t believe that this is happening. Would you ever be able to have guessed this is how you’d be getting married? Not that you had ever harboured any ambitions about love or marriage. You’d been happy to see your parents share a loving marriage, and your sister as well. But since a young age, you’d decided that marriage was not for you. Sex? That was necessary. Dating? Perhaps, but casual. Love? Your first relationship in college had convinced you it was not your forte- you’d fallen out of feelings after a few months, and you had never tried to fall in love again. Marriage? Not even on the cards right now. Kids? Probably never. You didn’t think you’d live that long.

And yet, your wedding invite was sitting idle on your lap. Printed on beautiful handmade paper, intrinsically engraved with orchid petals, and the fonts printed out in a loopy serif font, it was really pretty. Posh and classy, like everybody expected. It had been sent out to a few people only, Wonwoo had asked for a small wedding, and you had happily agreed. Having to deceive your parents and sister was bad enough. Lesser the better.

The doorbell rings. You’re taken by surprise, not expecting anyone at this hour. Probably Jisung, perhaps he’s come to drop something off. That boy’s working too hard as well, you need to give him a raise after this entire affair is finished.

But it’s Wonwoo.

“Are you busy?” He asks before even entering.

“No?”

“Can I come in?”

He looks over your figure, the long t-shirt you’re wearing with the shorts that are hidden under the t-shirt. You’re getting more confused by the moment. You open the door wider, and he steps in.

“What’s going on?”

“There are details we need to talk about.”

You take a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Since that conversation at dawn with Wonwoo, you had started guarding yourself against him. Something had changed in your mind- you’d feel more vulnerable next to him, more bared, more naked. Even if he didn’t look at you, you’d feel like you could read your mind all the time.

“Like what?”

“I made a contract. It’s a… guidebook of sorts.” He sits at the sofa, taking out his phone and placing it on your coffee table. He’s wearing his work clothes, so you’re guessing he’s come directly from work. “What’s it about?” You sit next to him, and he pushes your phone towards you. “Do you have a printer? We could print it out. Or you can-” “I’ll get a print. Do you want something?” He leans back on the sofa, but his posture is still stiff. You’ve not seen him like this. It’s almost like he’s nervous. “No. I need to leave quickly, so it’s best if you can go through this quickly. I don’t have time to waste.” You roll your eyes and stand up, keeping your knee perched on the sofa, terribly close to where his hand is. “What’s this attitude? We’re getting married tomorrow, and this is how you’re going to be?” “Well, what did you expect? Just because I agreed to marry and help you out, doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly be in love with you.” “Help me out? I didn’t fucking need your help, Wonwoo!” “Really? Your desperation told me something else that night.” He’s standing up now too, and it feels like he’s towering over you on purpose to make you feel small. You take a step back, he doesn’t move forward. It’s not push and pull, it’s gravity unwinding.

“Listen, we can still call this off. I don’t want to be an object of your pity.”

“Pity? I wanted to help you, Y/N. There’s a difference, or is your brain too ego-clouded to understand?”

“Wonwoo, I could marry anyone-”

“And yet, it was me you came to!”

“It was convenient! I couldn’t really marry … say, Jisung, when my parents had proof that we’d been sleeping together!”

“Oh, so it’s Jisung now-”

“It was a damn example!” You’re shouting now, but his voice is still low and hoarse. It creates goosebumps on your skin.

“If that’s who you want to marry, you can go ahead. You better know that I have no desire to be wedded to you tomorrow!” He takes a step forward, and you step back. “What do you think I am, huh? Your toy? Today you want to fuck, tomorrow you want to end things, the next day you come begging at my door to blow your mind with my dick, and the day after that you want to get fucking married? You don’t think keeping up with your plot twists are stressful for me? Do you think I’m getting off on your mood swings? I am helping you, because you’re in a dire situation. Don’t you dare spin this narrative to anything else, because it is not charity or love for you that’s motivating me to step into this hell of a marriage that I can see coming.”

With every word he utters, he steps closer and closer, and you keep walking back until your back hits the wall. And then he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you can see the exact dilation of his pupils even beyond his glasses. “I don’t need your help, Wonwoo. I’m not a damsel in distress.” He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in. When his eyes do open again, they’re different- darker, yet with more clarity, less angry and yet more dangerous. He leans down, and for a second, for a delusional mindless moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. You part your lips, waiting for impact, as he tilts his head ever so slightly, all while staring into your soul.

“I don’t give a fuck about you, Y/N. I don’t care. I’m just repaying an old debt.”

Then he steps back and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll mail it to you. Don’t be a brat and make sure to read it.”

You’re still stuck against the wall like an insect, too stunned to move. Before he walks out of the door, he says without looking at you, “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

The wedding dress is simple, nothing in frills. You see it for the first time when you wear it on the morning of your wedding. As you sit in your dressing room, revising your vows, your sister enters. She’s all but jumping in excitement. “Darling, why so serious?” She grabs your hands and smiles widely at you. “Today’s your big day! Don’t think about Appa’s sickness today, or work stuff, or anything at all. Your wedding day isn’t going to come back, so you make sure to make the most of it!” You wish you could laugh at her face, her words seeming ridiculous to you. You wish she wasn’t so excited, it would only save her the disappointment she’d have to face later.

So you force a smile. “Is it time? I’m just nervous. What if I forget my vows?” “Then you forget them. You love Wonwoo, Y/N-ie. You can just declare your love freely. You don’t need to stick to a script. Go ahead and curse him if you like!” You do laugh at this, and she joins you too. “There! That’s my girl. Honestly, discovering that you and Wonwoo… together… it was a shock for us. Like, we’d never thought of you both ever liking each other. But then, it made sense. Especially what he had said that night, I remember. That’s the moment I knew, something was definitely up” You gawk, “What night?” She giggles, “That night at the party. You know? Don’t act dumb, cutie.” She wriggles her eyebrows and it dawns on you what exactly she was referring to. Fuck. Of course she had heard, fuck Wonwoo for being so damn loud.

You got out of your head, when someone called you to the hall, telling you that it’s time. You slowly make your way out of your dressing room, making sure your dress doesn’t get spoiled. Your father waits outside the room, dressed elegantly.

“Are you ready?”

There’s an odd peace in his eyes, as he smiles at you with pride.

Fuck it. Thank god you’re getting married early. Otherwise who’d walk you down the aisle… if you got too late?

“Yes, Appa.” You smile back, and loop your arm through his outstretched arm.

The gates of the hall open up, revealing a beautifully decorated banquet, with an announcer standing in the centre, to conduct the ceremony. All the guests turn to look at you, dressed to their nines. But you’ve got eyes on only one person in the room.

For the first time in your life, you think Wonwoo looks beautiful. Attraction based on looks was barely something you experienced with him, but today you realise why people fell for him like dominos. He looks absolutely regal in his tuxedo- simple, yet that’s what suits him perfectly. You think, you’ve never seen Wonwoo wear anything excessive, always minimalistic, and really he looks best like that. Because he doesn’t need any accessories, his face does enough.

“Go, sweetheart,” your father leaves you midway the walkway, and you realise you have to walk the rest of the way on your own. You bow a little to Appa, and then look up front again. Your eyes meet Wonwoo’s and your heart races. He looks too pretty to be real, and yet you find yourself walking towards him. The entire audience erupts into applause when Wonwoo takes a few steps forward and extends his hand. You take it, and he accompanies you to your place, dropping your hand only after a slight peck pressed on the back of your hand. The crowd erupts in cheers again, and for the first time in your life, you blush genuinely.

You stand facing the announcer, not daring to look at the man next to you. You have enough time to look at him anyway.

The rest of the wedding ceremony went off peacefully. After reciting your vows perfectly, hand in Wonwoo’s hand, avoiding his eye contact desperately, and exchanging the rings, the announcer asked you to kiss. Well, that was easy. He didn’t use tongue, thankfully, otherwise you would’ve moaned in public. Even the drinks and dinner arrangement afterwards was easy. Smiling and small talk came like free flow to you after so many years.

The hard part comes later, when you both sit in your designated limousine, exhausted after the long ceremonies of the day. Your feet hurt in the heels, and using the washroom had been a pain in the dress, so you’d desperately held on to your bladder. You’re counting down the minutes to going home, and all you want is peace.

But Wonwoo, like so many other things, is not on the same page as you.

“Where are we going?” You ask, noticing that the car’s heading in the opposite direction as your house.

“To my house.”

“Wait, what?”

He looks up from his phone. “Didn’t you read the guide?”

“Wonwoo, I’m not jobless, you know.”

“I fucking knew it. Right, you’re too busy being a brat.” He mutters under his breath, before opening a can of a fizzy drink from the mini cooler inside the car, and looking outside the window.

“I haven’t even packed my stuff, Wonwoo. I can shift in once I’ve got my stuff ready.”

“You don’t know how many eyes are following us? What will the media think if we get off at different apartments tonight? It was hard enough stopping my parents from booking us a honeymoon suite.”

You sigh. He’s right. But he doesn’t stop talking.

“You’ve got time now, read the guidebook.”

“Just tell me what’s in it, Wonwoo. Stop making such a fuss about it. Also what the fuck is a guidebook without my suggestions.”

“If you’d read it, you would have made suggestions, darling. I wasted my time going to your place last night. Anyway, if you need anything urgently from your apartment, I’ll send my secretary to fetch it for you.”

“No thanks. I don’t need anything.”

Thank god you’re familiar with Wonwoo’s apartment, because you immediately lock yourself in the bedroom and take off your dress. Once it’s off, you unlock the room, and find an exasperated Wonwoo standing outside. “Woman, why are you monopolising territory already?”

“Just go change in the guest room, Wonwoo.” You push past him, dressed in underwear, carrying your heavy dress and laying it across the living room sofa to avoid creases from forming. Then you head straight into the bathroom to clean your makeup and take a shower. 30 minutes later you emerge, and Wonwoo’s nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes you find him on the small personal rooftop that extends from his apartment through a small flight of stairs. You’d never gone to the roof, but now you see it has a nice bench on it, and is surrounded by lights.

Wonwoo’s smoking.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I didn’t know you were going to hoard my space as soon as you entered my house.”

He doesn’t look at you, still gazing out at the Seoul skyline.

“You could’ve used the other one.”

You breathe in once, and then speak again.

“I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”

“Wait.” He finally turns around, and you can see his hair is completely messed up and his eyebags are visible under his glasses again.

“Did you take my clothes?”

“Just a pajama shirt.”

He nods, seeing what you’re wearing. The cool breeze makes your skin tingle, almost making you regret taking off your bra and wearing only panties under the shirt.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re not coming along?”

He turns away again. Well, fuck it. It’s not like you’re going to butter him up for a response. And yet when you go downstairs again, you make sure to sleep on the left side of the bed, like you’d always done whenever you’d slept together before. You don’t know why you do it, but you go to sleep assuming he’ll eventually come to bed.

He doesn’t. The next morning, you wake up to see the other side of the bed absolutely empty and untouched. He’s even taken away his pillow and blanket and you suddenly find yourself shivering. When you’re awake enough, you squint at the clock on the wall and figure out that it’s almost eleven in the morning. Quite late for someone like you. But then, it has been an exhausting day.

Did Wonwoo not sleep at all?

You put these thoughts away when you stumble into the washroom, nearly slipping because your step is unbalanced. But that minor shock completely jerks you awake at least.

Once you’ve brushed your teeth (without even realising how your toothbrush had magically appeared in Wonwoo’s bathroom even though you hadn’t packed and brought a thing), you walk out of the room. Again, there’s no sign of Wonwoo. The house is humid, from no windows being open, so you gently open up a few sources of ventilation. As the noise from the outside world begins to float into the house, the silence gets broken and you feel less claustrophobic. Sunshine falls on the simple upholstery and decorations of the house, and it makes everything shine. It’s a hot day, but at least it’s a sunny day. You hate gloomy days.

You quickly search for Wonwoo in every room. And you eventually notice that the bed in the guest room seems to have been slept in last night. Was that where Wonwoo had slept last night?

It didn’t make sense. It’s not like you two had not shared a bed earlier. Sure, Wonwoo had never stayed in the same bed with you for longer than an hour after the sex, unless it was a marathon until the morning, and you rarely ever woke up next to his warm body, but it seemed absurd that he’s treating you like a complete stranger. It’s not like the movies, for fucks’ sake. You’re familiar with each other, even if you’re not in love. And sharing a bed isn’t a big deal.

Exactly Y/N. So why are you making it such a big deal?

There’s a printout of something on the coffee table. You head over and see that it is the ‘guidebook’ he’s kept blabbering about. Why is he insisting that you read it? You have an impulse to go and dump it in the dustbin and push his limits a little further, but then you have pity on him. But it’s not like you wanted to stay with him either. He’s the one who made you come and live with him. So technically, you shouldn’t feel any remorse or pity. So you do dump the prints in the dustbin without a second look at it.

That’s when you hear your phone ring. “Hello, I’m speaking from ABC Packages. We’re here to shift your packages from your old house to your new residence. We’re waiting outside the door, are you at home?” Huh? “I’m sorry, who asked you to do this? Do you have a name?” “Yes Ms. Y/L/N. The order came from a Jeon Wonwoo-ssi.” No wonder. “Aaah. Okay, just wanted to confirm,” you quickly say to avoid any suspicion. “Yes I’m home. I’ll open the door.”

And so the next hour is spent in a flurry of bringing in boxes, and when the delivery persons leave, you open them all. There seems to be enough space in Wonwoo’s walk-in closet for your stuff, which isn’t much at all. So you hang up all your formals, which form the majority of your clothing, and stash the rest of it in the shelves. Your shoes are also lesser than Wonwoo’s and you barely have any accessories and makeup apart from essentials. The problem arises with your underwear and … other personal belongings. You’re not sure if Wonwoo would appreciate opening his underwear drawer to find your box of dildos stashed there. But there’s no other space, so he’ll just have to deal with it.

Thank God you’d taken the day off. Jisung had offered that staying away from work would make the impression of the honeymoon more imminent, and you’d agreed. Although it does seem like Wonwoo had gone to work all the same. And so, you’re left all alone in the house, and while it’s a little odd, you sit at almost every surface of the apartment to get used to it. Sure, you’ve been sat at all of these before, in various positions, as Wonwoo had fucked you, but it feels different now under the sunlight. You’re not surprised to find Wonwoo’s fridge stocked almost completely with ample groceries, so making lunch isn’t a hassle (apart from the fact that you barely know how to cook anything). But all-in-all, it’s not a tedious day, and you’re settling in nicely.

Until Wonwoo comes home, blazer on his arm and his hair messy. He lets himself in, but you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, checking out what’s kept where. “Oh, you’re here.” You turn around and see him flunking down on the sofa, legs sprawled out. “Are you that tired?” He doesn’t answer at first, just stares at you for a second too long. “I am. It’s been a long day.” “I’m making coffee, do y-” “No. I’m going to the gym now.”

Gym takes longer than you imagine. It’s well past 10 pm when Wonwoo makes his way back, and you’ve already finished your dinner of cup ramen and ice cream. He doesn’t bother to look at you and wordlessly enters the guest bathroom. You consider entering the guest room and waiting for him, and then talking to him about why he slept separately, but then you drop it. You know he won’t answer you properly, and it’ll be a waste of effort. You sigh and make your way to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked and slightly ajar so that he knows he’s still invited inside.

Wonwoo and you arrive last at the little gathering your family has set up to celebrate the one month anniversary of your marriage. Wonwoo’s family is here too, along with Kyungmin Oppa and your sister, and it’s a big group even for the large sprawling, and largely empty house, where you parents reside. You’d think it’s easy to get lost in the crowd, but not when you’re the newly wed couple who’s the focus of the party.

“I’m so disappointed y’all aren’t going on a honeymoon,” your sister endlessly complains, and she’s completely backed by the two mothers. “Yes!” Your mother joins in. Just like the rest of the family members, she seems to have bought your wedding as 100% real as well, although she should’ve been the first to connect the dots that you’re only doing this sham wedding for the sake of your father’s wishes. “I have itineraries planned for Bali, for Scandinavia, for the Maldives, or even for Japan, if you don’t want to go too far!” She giggles, and the other ladies do too. You don’t understand what’s so funny. Especially when you know how little conversation you’ve shared with your husband over the last month, in spite of not being strangers.

In fact that makes it worse, you think. Wonwoo’s wearing a dark blue blazer over a white shirt which puts his pecs right in your face. You know what it’d be like to touch them, and bite all over them. The way he has his left hand pressed against the small of your back means he knows what it’d be like to just drop his hand an inch lower and feel your ass against his palm. Andit is worse because even though you know each other intimately, there’s so little emotional connection you feel with him now. Whatever vulnerability had developed around him when he’d first agreed to the wedding had become hardened again under his cold attitude, and you’re back to just who you were when you’d grinded up against him at your sister’s engagement party. You curse yourself for thinking that you could ever feel a nice way about Jeon Wonwoo, because honestly, look at the man. He’s probably never regretted any decision taken after midnight as much as he’s regretted the decision to marry you.

When you sit down at the dinner table, you notice him not eating any of the seafood. You wonder if he’s just not hungry or rudely ignoring the special grilled fish that is your Appa’s speciality. It’s probably the latter- some testosterone shit. And yet, he’s speaking charmingly smoothly with your Appa, even though Wonwoo’s not much of a talker and you know that.

When he sits in the corner of the room, smiling and talking to your mother, you wonder what lies he’s spewing. You’ve noticed how easily lies come to him at the wedding itself, when he’d spinned tale upon tale about your ‘love story’. I fell for her, honestly, for the first time, when she’d walked into my class in ninth grade. You had scoffed, remembering the disgusted expression he had worn in reality, when he’d seen you being introduced into the class. Of course, we’ve known each other for a long time now. Naturally, there have been ups and downs. Gosh, this reminds me of the time we’d gone on that date to the amusement park after our last day at school, huh? We’d fought so bitterly after that, you’d think we were enemies. Haha. You’d nearly laughed at that- your school had taken you all out to the amusement park on the last day of classes, and somehow Wonwoo and you’d been seated together on all the damn rides. Fuck him for laughing at you for becoming scared on the roller coaster rides and then pretending to take care of you when you had passed out in his arms at the very peak of the ride. You bet the teachers had cooed at him for being so chivalrous, when in reality it was a smack to your face.

When he leaves early, and leans in to press a kiss to your lips, you almost cringe away. It feels like you’re kissing a stranger even though his lips and the stubble on his jaw feel so familiar. This is the first time he’s shown you affection in front of others. It’s all a show, you know. You gotta do what’s needed to keep the show running. “I’ll see you at home, sweetheart,” he says before pulling away and tucking your hair behind your ears. You search in his eyes for honesty, and all you find is a dark abyss.

But it seems like your family buys the facade again. Banking on the fact that they seem pleased with your husband, and on your good choice of marriage, you finally broach the real issue with your father. You’re both sitting at the patio, sipping whisky after everyone’s left and the two of you have some peace after a long day of chattering and feasting.

“Appa, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Y/N-ah?”

You pause before answering. Finally, you decide to take the blunt route, knowing that there’s no easy way about this.

“Come with me to the US for your treatment.”

He sighs. It’s a sigh that sounds almost like a cough, and it makes you wonder how much phlegm is stored in his damaged lungs now. You wonder how you didn’t notice it before.

“Who told you?”

“Eomma.”

“Of course she did.” He sighs again, and looks at you. “Are you asking me or commanding me?”

“Appa, I’m not your boss. I can’t command you.”

“But you’re my daughter. I know how children feel when they think their parents aren’t listening to them.”

You smile. “I’ve always been stubborn, you know. I’ve got it in my genes.”

“Genes I’m proud of. How much has your mother told you? Did she mention I’m in stage 4 and it’s practically incurable?”

“Yes, and no. There are still chances to cure it, Appa, if only you’ll listen to me.”

“Sweetie-”

“Why aren’t you giving this another chance? I didn’t know you to be a person who easily gives up!” You can feel yourself getting angry, tears pooling in your eyes. It’s stupid how he’s arguing against it, illogical, meaningless. Your heart breaks every time you look at his eyes- they’re old, wrinkled, and yet the fire hasn’t gone out. Does he really want to end it all this fast?

“You know, I get where you’re coming from. But… I don't want to prolong suffering, Y/N-ah. It’s time, I can feel it. There’s no point being a vegetable pushed about in a wheelchair and drinking soup for the rest of my life. There’s no point living if I have to just gobble medicines all day and not drink any more port wine. There’s no point living a life which isn’t even a life, it’s just a laboratory experiment.”

You do burst out crying at this. You want to throttle his neck, and shake him, and ask how could he say such things.

“Aaah, Y/N-ah! Don’t cry-”

“You’re making me cry, Appa! You didn’t even tell me! Were you just planning to sit on it till it’s too late?”

“It is never too late, Y/N-ah. Appa is always here with you, even if I can’t be here physically.”

The tears don’t stop, he pulls you closer, until you’re wailing on his shoulder, and he hugs you with one arm.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble in between tears, hiccups interspersed in your words. Then he only rubs your back and you gently quieten down. “I don’t care, Appa. Come to the US with me. I’ve spoken to doctors, they’ve said there are chances to improve.” He smiles wistfully, looking at your face, which is childishly covered in snot and wet tears.

“Appa, you have to promise me you’ll try. For me, please. I’m not ready for this.”

“It will be a waste of time and effort. I would rather you pay attention to your career. And also your marriage.” “There’s not much to pay attention to. Wonwoo and I are busy almost all the time,” you try to dismiss him. “But you are young, and in love. I should believe there’s nothing other than your love life you should pay more attention to.” You sigh. It’s sad, just how well you and Wonwoo have deceived them all, even your most observant father. You wonder how it is possible, given how distant the two of you are- emotionally, always, and physically, recently. “There is something called urgency, Appa. There’s an order to how things need to be done.”

There’s a few long minutes of silence. Your father finishes the drink in his glass and looks at the stars in the sky. You, for one moment, are sure he’ll put up another fight. “You’ve never asked me anything with so much insistence, Y/N-ah.” “You’ve not hidden anything from me before, either.” There’s another pause. The waiting is tiring, and you’re going to cry again.

“Alright. I’ll do it, Y/N. But on one condition.” You hang on to his words, waiting for him to continue. “One chance. I’m not going back again if there is a relapse. I will not push my fate to a sour ending. You go back to your life, where I want to see you happy. And I will let nature take its due course.” You dare to smile, too afraid he’s going to take back his words. But then he smiles back, and beckons you to lie down on his lap, as he begins talking about something new he;s recently read, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

That night when you go home, you find Wonwoo playing in his gaming room. It’s a small room, probably meant to be a spare bedroom, or a kid’s bedroom, but he has an elaborate gaming setup there, and he locks himself up in it every weekend. Sometimes you wonder if he’s dead, but then you hear his cocky, hushed whispers of victory when you lean on the door. He’s always been good at games.

Today the door is slightly open, and you think for a deluded moment, that he perhaps left it open so that he could hear you enter the house. So you lightly knock and he turns around in his gaming chair. You realise he’s wearing a tank top, his hair hidden under a hideous beanie, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the brooding adult you’re married to.

“I spoke to Appa tonight.”

He looks up at you and takes off his headphones. He nods once, understanding immediately.

“I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, and I don’t want to delay the appointment.”

He stares at you for a second, then replies, “When is your flight?”

“Afternoon.”

“And how long are you going to be away?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps a month, perhaps longer. I don’t want to leave until it’s all done. I want to see it to the end.”

He nods again, standing up from his chair. The screen flashes something about the game being paused, and his character awkwardly bounces about in the game field. The character has black hair and wears glasses like Wonwoo.

“Pack enough, then. I’ll be here when you come back.”

You nod, and he smiles. This is why you got married in the first place, afterall. You bet he’s glad to get the wheels moving as quickly as possible so that this farce can come down before he’s so tired of it that your mere sight repels you.

The next three months pass by like a whirlwind, a miracle from heaven. Because not only are the doctors extremely positive about your father’s condition, but also hopeful for complete treatment. A part of you is too wary of everything going too great, too good to be true, and you’re crying every night when you lie sleepless in your hotel bed. There’s not a single second you’re free from anxiety, and there’s literally nothing else in your mind except praying that every minute of the treatment goes well. You’ve never been so nervous, except when you’d been in college and getting your papers approved by your professors and they’d laughed straight up in your face at your ambitiousness. You get periodic calls from your colleagues, the managers and Jisung, most often. But if there’s a perk of being a CEO, it’s that your employees know when to respect your personal space, unless there’s an absolute emergency. Relatives call you, your sister calls you ever so often. You hope she doesn’t go into labour with your father still stuck on the hospital bed, but it’s only a small part of her worries, you’re sure. So you assure her about everything being alright and encourage to focus on her pregnancy being perfectly smooth, although Kyungmin Oppa tells you that her mood swings are more distinct now with more things to worry about. The baby kicks for the first time, and you wish you could be there. You don’t want to miss a lot of firsts, but it’s a small tradeoff you don’t mind making.

There’s only one person who doesn’t call you, Wonwoo. He probably knows that you don’t want to be disturbed, but sometimes you have thoughts. Thoughts about how different your life was just a few months ago. Thoughts about how your marriage is due to be annulled as soon as this business ends. Thoughts about whether you should have let Wonwoo ever into your life. Thoughts about how he feels about this entire thing. You know how he’d said he had just wanted to help you, but was it a moment of pity or a calculated decision? Was he actually humane enough to want to do this? You’re unsure, just like you’re unsure about how much you even know him. Sure, you’ve known him for your entire damn life, but not really.

Firstly, there’s the matter of the wedding. The fact that Wonwoo didn’t actually need to be roped in to convince your dad is a surprising issue. You hadn’t expected Appa to be so pliant to your words and your tears, when he had supposedly protested so much in front of Unnie and Eomma. Well, there perhaps was something called a favourite child. Secondly, there’s the concern of what happens now. It’s already been four months since your wedding, and it’s almost mid-December now. You’re 100% sure that Wonwoo will not be interested to drag on this farce for longer than necessary, so you mentally take notes to draft up divorce letters and take them to him as soon as you return to Seoul. Your PR team’s done a fairly good job in hiding the fact that you and Wonwoo have barely spent any time together since the wedding. So it’s not going to take much to silence the media if they raise eyebrows at such a quick divorce. Family will be easy to convince, as well. We just don’t have enough time for a full-on relationship now. We’re focused on our careers, that’s where our priorities lie. Honestly, this was why we were so hesitant about marriage in the first place. See, we told you, we weren't made for this relationship business. If only you hadn’t practically stalked us into it, we wouldn’t have to disappoint you all like this.

And what happens after that?

Do you remain exes who smile at each other at social gatherings? Do you remain fuckbuddies, forgetting about your trash past altogether? Do you become strangers who don’t even bother to remember birthdays?

You’re feeling dizzy, so you pass out on the couch in your hotel room.

It’s New Years’ Eve when you return to Seoul, and nobody can stop the smile on your face from breaking out every three seconds. Your father’s body may still be weak from chemotherapy, and he may have to visit the hospital every other week to get follow-ups on his treatment, but he’s alive and the spark in his eyes haven’t been snuffed out. There’s hope, infinite hope, and you feel whole again. There’s incredible joy blooming in your heart, even if all the trees are barren and all the world is grey. The doctors say that it is a godsent gift, and there can be a relapse, but the chances are low enough to be confident that there’s going to be at least five more years of happy life for your father. For someone who was praying for five more minutes, it’s a harvest too bountiful, and you feel like a person born again.

The happiness lasts the entire journey back home, back into the wide waiting arms of your mother who had never gone to the US because she was too scared of being there. You can see how the stress has taken a toll on her, as her figure seems frailer than before, and there’s no longer than glow radiating off her face. And yet, this gift is more than she, or you could ever have asked for, so you take what you can get. Your father’s organs haven’t failed yet, and he can eat better things than soup, so your mother’s cooked specially for him, although she hasn’t entered the kitchen in years. It’s softly cooked galbi and prawn pajeon, and he devours the meal after months of hospital food. You stay the night at your parent’s home, as your sister comes over along with her husband. It’s a great family reunion, and you feel like you could die in this happiness.

Except reality strikes when you wake up the next morning and realise that you should go to your actual home now. You wonder if he’s going to be at home or not, given that it’s the New Year and he may have plans with others.

But there he is, as you let yourself in through the main door, and he locks eyes with you sitting on the couch, wearing shorts and no shirt, his hair quite wet. Apart from the fact that this is the first time you’ve seen him wear shorts, nothing’s changed. He’s still exactly the same. It’s cold outside, and the journey here has frozen your limbs, but the house is warm as fuck, just how Wonwoo’s always liked it.

You can’t stop yourself. You don’t stop yourself when you run halfway across the living room and hug him without waiting for him to say anything.

To his credit, he doesn’t say anything. He simply hugs you back. His body is so warm in spite of being shirtless, and you can smell the fresh soap clinging to his body. He rubs one hand on your spine and for a second you feel tears threatening to flow down your face. Did you miss him?

“How’s your father?”

“Much better. There is hope.”

You can feel his hands moving more insistently on your back, stretching through all your muscles. It feels comforting in a way you’ve never received from Wonwoo. He doesn’t ask anything else, and you don’t mind.

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

You’re bent over on the floor, unpacking your suitcase in your own room when he casually saunters into his walk-in and you don’t pay heed. It’s only when he walks out wearing a black leather jacket, a turtleneck, a light gold chain dangling on his neck, and fancy sunglasses perched on his nose that you turn around to look at him. You’re shocked at seeing him like this- you realise you haven’t seen him in casuals in so long. You haven’t seen him in so long.

“You’re going out?”

“Yeah, it is the New Year. I have a party with my friends.”

You’re too busy ogling him, so he asks, “Don’t you have plans?”

“Yeah, I’m going to unpack my stuff.”

“You could do that tomorrow. Going out with friends on New Years’ will not happen tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. You assume I have friends. It shouldn’t be news to him, you’ve told him this before. And yet, you feel embarrassed again. You didn’t know Wonwoo had friends, but it’s wrong of you to think every workaholic has no life like you.

“No. It’s been a tiring few months… I’d rather just sleep in.”

Wonwoo, surprisingly, sits down on your bed, facing you, and removes his sunglasses. You can see his pretty eyes from up close, and you realise that he’s never really sat on this bed since you’ve come to his house. “Do you want to come with me? They’ve been asking about you for quite some time now.” You look at him silently, “Nah, I don’t… don’t want to barge in.” “You won’t be.” “You’ll get late if you wait for me now.” “It’s not a big deal, most of them will be late anyway.” “Are you going to a nightclub?” “No, we’re going to a barbecue party.”

Small, private, cosy. You’ll definitely be barging in.

“No Wonwoo, I don’t want to go somewhere where I’m not welcome. And anyway, I’m cool with whatever you’ve told your friends about us.” “I haven’t said anything in particular.” “Well, then you’re good at avoiding things.” “I am. You must’ve been away too long if you’ve forgotten about this.”

You want to run away. He’s surely talking about avoiding being your husband- and he’s proud about it as well.

“Then you might avoid it further. There’s no need for me to make a public appearance.”

Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long. His jaw hardens, and you can see his tongue in his cheek. Then he gently pulls your hand into his own, and carefully touches your fingers, purposely avoiding the bit around your wedding ring. The way your fingers seem much smaller compared to his makes you feel a certain way. You pull your hand back, but he doesn’t let go. He ends up pulling you up to stand, so that he’s still sitting on the edge of the bed and you’re standing right in front of him. His fingers are still laced around your own, and you feel sparks at the touch after months.

“I’m going to show my wife off to my friends. And your excuses are pathetic, darling. You know you want me to show you off as well.” His fingers tighten their grip against your wrist, and you feel the vein in your wrist throbbing around his touch. “So get dressed nicely. I know you clean up well.”

It takes you a solid ten minutes to find something good to wear. Sure, you’re not big on fashion, but you like to look fit for the occasion. Especially if Wonwoo’s dressed up all fancily like that. But when you finally step out of the closet, you’re wearing a beige corset top with a black skirt, and a long black coat with tiny gold details. You find Wonwoo still sitting on your bed, scrolling through his phone. “How do I look?” you ask at the same time as he raises his head to look at you. After checking you out twice from top to toe, he nods slowly, but before you can exhale in relief, he says, “Will you feel cold in that skirt?” “No. And before you ask, I’m not wearing stockings. The coat will be enough.” “Don’t complain if you get cold later. Come down in five.”

When you’re finally in the car, you ask him if you should buy something for the host, since it is New Years’ afterall. “If we bought something for him, the others will be mad at us for not buying something for them too.” You laugh it off, wondering how that could be possible, and proceed to stop at a nearby store to buy one of the trendy perfumes that’s popular amongst men these days.

You find, not even half an hour later, that it is possible.

“Wonwoongi! You only brought presents for Mingoo? None for hyung? How will hyung survive without your generosity?” A lanky, beautiful man immediately latches himself onto Wonwoo’s arm as soon as you both enter Mingyu’s house. It’s a pretty bungalow situated a little far from the city, and decorated extravagantly with lights. It’s only after Wonwoo makes it through the first few people crowding near the entryway that everybody notices you.

There’s a collective gasp going around when everyone turns around and looks at you, smiles galore. And then they all start speaking together, and you get overwhelmed. Wonwoo shushes them all in an uncharacteristically loud voice, and announces, “Since y’all wanted to meet her, this is Y/L/N Y/N, my wife,” and you bow deeply to everyone as everyone greets you back. When you stand upright again, you stumble a bit, not having noticed the thick carpet, and Wonwoo’s quick to grab your hand. He casually interlocks his fingers with yours, and you both make your way into the apartment.

The first man you meet is Mingyu, the host. You’re shocked to see him, not expecting to see him as the host. So he’s the host. He’s become taller than Wonwoo now, his face still identical to what you remember from high school. It sparks an annoyance in you, as scenes from each sports day of your high school years flashes by. There wasn’t a single time when you hadn’t defeated Mingyu in tennis, badminton and squash. You really loved playing racket sports, and it seemed that so did Mingyu. But not just that- Mingyu’s arrogance was even more childish than that of Wonwoo because he was insanely arrogant about his looks and the number of girls (and boys) thirsting over him every day. Although you hardly met him outside school because he didn’t belong to a chaebol family, you’d actively glare at each other every time you met in school. You wonder what version of these same memories flashed in his mind as you stand in front of him now.

“It’s been a long time, Y/N-ah. Didn’t imagine that you and Wonwoo would end up married.” It’s a genuine smile, and for a moment, you wonder if you’d had the wrong impression about him all along. “We didn’t imagine it either, trust me.” Wonwoo smiles, and it breaks you out of your reverie. You hand Mingyu the gift, and say, “Thank you for extending your invitation to me.” “There’s no need to be so formal, Y/N-ah. But what’s the need for the gift?” “Since I’m visiting you for the first time… as Mrs. Jeon, I felt I shouldn’t come empty-handed.” Mingyu giggles and nudges Wonwoo’s arm, “Mrs Jeon, hmm? Feels like a Hollywood movie. Thanks Y/N, I’ll use it well!”

Then Wonwoo introduces you to the rest of his friend group one by one. You meet Seungcheol, who you remember all too well. “How the tables have turned, huh?” He chuckles, before handing you a glass of wine. There’s a familiarity in his mysterious smile, that twinkling look in his eyes, that elite tilt of his chin, as if he owned the world, which used to annoy the hell out of you, because to you, he seemed to be the stereotype of the worthless chaebol heirs who’d do nothing in their lives except eat out of their parents’ money. And yet, he’s made it big on his own, if news reports are correct, and perhaps you can find some respect for him now. “I hope we get along better this time, Seungcheol Oppa.” He’s the only man from Wonwoo’s high school group who you would call Oppa, and that was only to tease him because he’d been voted as the Sexiest Oppa of the Year at the end of the high school year. Seungcheol seems to remember that too, because he laughs, and you realise it’s a fond memory, no matter how much annoyance it had sparked in you back then.

Then there’s Jeonghan, who’d been that beautiful man who’d spoken to Wonwoo earlier with that aegyo nickname of Wonwoongie. who disarms you instantly with his jokes. Joshua, who’s introduced as the gentleman, but you can see the mischief in his doe-like eyes, much too good-looking for his own good. There’s Soonyoung and Seokmin, who are already playing beer pong, laughing and spilling a lot of the beer on the table (and the carpet, but they implore you to not tell Mingyu that). Seungkwan referees them, while he’s wrapped around his boyfriend, who’s extremely charming and interesting. Vernon and you speak for a good two minutes before Seungkwan interrupts you both and takes you to meet Jun. Jun is sitting on the other side of the room, with his girlfriend, Lihua. She’s also Chinese but speaks fluent Korean, as she’s a teacher in Seoul, as she explains.You find out that Jun is an actor in both Korean and Chinese tv shows, and his visuals explain a lot of it, for sure. Then there’s Minghao, who’s busy discussing Met Gala looks over the years with two women, Soyeon (Jihoon’s fiance) and Aeri (Chan’s girlfriend). Chan and Jihoon themselves are missing, but soon you find them in the kitchen, helping Mingyu and his fiance, Hayi, to make cocktails.

And when the introductions finally end, Wonwoo and you flop down on a couch in one corner, both tired from all that smiling and small talk.

“Are you sighing so loudly because they’re not nice?” He teases you, as he place an arm around the head of the sofa, successfully cradling you without even touching your body. “Wonwoo. I didn’t know you were still close to Seungcheol and Mingyu.” “Hmm… should I have warned you before bringing you here?” You turn your face away from him, “A warning would have been nice. I wasn’t really ready to see Mingyu’s annoying smile again after all those years of his delinquency.” Wonwoo laughs, and you continue, “But I’m curious. What did you tell them about me that they’re welcoming me with open arms? Did you tell them that I’ve completely changed or something?” “No. They had their reservations too, but it’s not like they could do anything. I told them only a day before we got married.” You open your mouth to refute, but quickly become silent. Not for the first time, you wonder, how had Wonwoo adapted into the marriage so quickly in spite of having nothing to gain and everything to lose. It reminds you of the divorce papers you had asked Jisung to prepare, so you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan comes and sits on your other side too. “Oh, we have another person joining our lazy line, I see.” He giggles as you look confused. “Wonwoo, Hao and I are the lazy line. We run out of battery first. We can’t keep up with the other over-energetic boy.” “But the absolute first is Wonwoo, of course. There’s no end to group photos where he’s yawning in all the shots.” Minghao strolls in, grabs Wonwoo by the arm, calling him to the other room where they’re all playing billiards, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan on the sofa.

“So, Y/N, I hear that you and Wonwoo have been friends since school?” You laugh, because he can’t have heard that. You know Jeonghan knows you both have never really been friends. He laughs too, and you realise how easily he’s prodded right into the truth. “It’s complicated,” you say safely, as you get a feeling you can’t hide from this man. “And yet I think you’re perfectly fit to be Mrs Jeon, from what I hear.” You laugh again, because genuinely it is a funny statement. You think he’s making a joke- probably about how you both hated each other’s guts in school, or had an equal temper. But no, he’s all serious and he repeats his statement with more sincerity. You twist your lips in confusion, and ask him, “How can you say that?” “Because I know Wonwoo very well. That’s it.” He then laughs a bit and continues, “They call me the Eomma of the group for a reason, you know. They’re all my kids. Even Cheol and Shua.”

And then Wonwoo calls you both to the barbecue which had begun on the outdoor patio.

The party may have begun awkwardly for you but it soon becomes quite exciting. The temperature continues to fall as it becomes darker in the night sky, but everyone’s gathered around the barbecue grill outside so you don’t want to move. The girls are mostly sitting together, sitting cocktails that Mingyu prepares for you, winking every way until he reaches his fiance who exaggeratedly winks back. You sit sandwiched between Aeri and Wonwoo, and while Wonwoo is busy discussing games with Seungcheol, Aeri doesn’t let you feel isolated. You’re included into the group surprisingly quickly, and soon you’re playing drinking games with them. Games you’ve never played before, so you’re obviously totally incapable at defeating them. They seem to play these every other weekend, while you’ve never even heard of these game rules. The reality sends pangs to your heart because it hits harder than ever that you’ve never had a friend group with who you could drink with. Not even a casual drink. Not even a girls’ night out. Not even a pole dance at a strip club.

“Okay! Let’s play the hongsam game,” Seungkwan shouts out and immediately everyone cheers in agreement. You must be looking confused as hell, because Jihoon quietly leans in to explain the rules simply. Seungkwan and Jihoon show you a small demo, and you nod. You may not have understood fully but you don’t want to hold up others in the game. And so the game goes on for nineteen rounds, and you lose ten of them. You somehow miss the timing every time, or maybe you just don’t know their names well enough. Even Joshua, who messed up the first three times, seems to have caught on, but you’re just stuck. Although they make you feel better about it, laughing with you instead of at you, and reassuring you that it’s okay to make mistakes, you feel embarrassed. It’s not a tough game, just requires hand-eye-brain coordination that you’re sure you’re not lacking in, but perhaps some part of you wants to do better because it’s Wonwoo’s friends you’re playing with, and performing poorly here would mean… well, you don’t know what it would mean, but it doesn’t sit right with you. So you try to be more competitive, and although you keep losing, as the shots go in, it feels less stressful and more fun. You become more familiar with the games, and the S.coups game you’re actually good at, although you have no idea why it’s called the S.coups game and Seungcheol personally makes it a point to threaten anyone who’s about to tell you why it’s called the S.coups game.

And so, as the night goes by, you become more comfortable. Even if it is still a little awkward, it’s not altogether bad. Mingyu and Seungcheol are being nice to you, although a bit wary. The others have positively welcomed you with open arms. And Wonwoo, well, he’s being a little odd. He’s having a hell lot of fun, being much louder than you’ve ever seen him. He seems more reserved than his friends, but then, his friends are too hyper. And while he doesn’t make direct efforts to talk to you, he’s becoming more touchy by the minute. The first few shots in, he was just putting an arm around your shoulders. Next few shots in, his hands are properly rubbing all over your bare arms as he makes you open the coat when you say your body’s getting warm with all the soju. When you feel the buzz of alcohol getting more serious by the second, his right hand, the same one which had held your hand earlier that day, places itself on your thigh and refuses to move. It’s splayed all over your thigh, nearly covering from end to end, and there’s not much skin showing anyway, but with his hand, it feels like you should’ve worn a shorter skirt.

Wonwoo’s favourite game is the mafia one. The game app somehow generates him to be mafia three out of four times, and he has way too much fun killing the innocent citizens who seem to be completely deceived by him. Wonwoo’s too good at lying, you realise, when you’re taken aback each time on finding out he’s the mafia although you’re sitting right next to him. The fifth round, you both are mafias, and after the penultimate round of guessing, when you two are the only mafias left alive and you lock eyes to decide who to kill, you giggle at the way he’s staring you down.

“I say, Soyeon. She’s the closest to guessing me out.” You say seriously, but his eyes aren’t even on your eyes. They’re fixed lower, at your lips, but you panic and shift away from him. Now his eyes look up at yours, confused, but you’re guessing he’s just drunk. He would never behave like this if he were sober.

“I say let’s get out of here. While their eyes are still closed.” He smirks, whispering hotly in front of your face, and you feel red all over.

“Wonwoo! They’re your friends.” “So what? They love you already. They wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving, if that’s what you’re thinking.” “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re having so much fun, why would you want to leave?” “Because I know I could have more fun with you with my face under that skirt of yours.” You’re blushing again. “You don’t want to know the number of times I’ve left fun gatherings like this to fuck you in my car, sweetheart. This time, at least, they’ll understand better.” You blush even harder, with the way he’s speaking. It’s making your heart beat too loudly. You know it’s because you both are drunk, but you’ve never been able to resist it when he talks dirty to you. And now his hand starts squeezing your thigh, so you’re left wondering what it would feel like if his face was under your sk-

“Oh for fucks sake! I know it’s Wonwoo and Y/N with all this whispering, I’m sitting next to y’all, guys!” Aeri whines from next to you, and the moment is broken. Everyone opens their eyes and Wonwoo’s hand stop squeezing, although it’s still on your thigh. “If you’re going to undress each other, just go home!” Chan says, and you laugh. “I’m not leaving the party even if Wonwoo does, just so you know. I’m having way too much fun.” Aeri and Hayi hug you from one end, pulling you away from Wonwoo. “Yes,” says Hayi, “we’re not letting you go either. Boring mafia men can leave if they like.” So they pull you away from Wonwoo and you end up sitting somewhere far away from him, between Joshua and Minghao, and it’s nice to be around people who aren’t game aces either and you can have a lot more fun because they’re not as serious as Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzes in your pocket, so you take it out. There’s a text from Wonwoo.

I wasn’t kidding, Y/N. I really want to get out of here with you.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve bid the last round of goodbyes, hugging Jeonghan and exchanging numbers with most of them, while they whine about why Wonwoo gatekept you for so long. Even Seungcheol and Mingyu joke around you, showing that they’ve become more comfortable around you. Perhaps growing up has taken away some of their jerk attitude from them.

Wonwoo’s already leaning against his car when you walk out of the house. You know he’s drunk with the way his eyes check you out without any filter, and you’re also drunk and out of your inhibitions. You try not to get into your head as he opens the door for you, and you get inside the warm car. Wonwoo joins you in the backseat, and the chauffeur drives you out slowly.

But somehow, being in the car now, away from the dopamine of the party, and the general excitement from having a surprisingly fun evening with strangers, the overthinking does kick in. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but his hand has returned on your thigh, and you let it be there. But you can’t help but think, is he finding you attractive only because he’s under the influence?

So you ask him that, when you both get out of the car and he opens the door to the apartment. Drunk, dishevelled Wonwoo looks glorious in the night light, his dark hair falling over his eyes, which are hooded in desire as plain as day. “Are you fucking serious, woman?” That’s all he says, before he pushes you against the back of the same entry door, and puts his hand under your skirt. He finds you panties as an obstruction so he pushes them aside before kissing you and entering one finger inside your cunt simultaneously. You immediately melt under his touch, not just because it’s been months since Wonwoo’s touched you, but also because you’re feeling so relieved he’s still attracted to you. At least the farce hasn’t repelled him away this far.

So you don’t speak any words. You both stay silent except the sounds he forces out of you. You come embarrassingly fast with just two fingers up your vagina, and his mouth creating hickeys all over your neck. “Fuck, Wonwoo, I-” “Shit you’re still coming- your whore pussy’s thanking Sir for taking care of her after so long?” You moan his name harder, your entire body writhing under his touch as he drags out your climax under his touch. “Yes, Sir.” “And what to good girls say in gratitude?” You can barely form the words but you say it, “Thank- thank you, Sir!”

“Where do you wanna take it, hmm? To my bedroom which you’ve taken over? Or my bedroom where you’ve exiled me to?” He picks you up and shrugs off your coat, and you wrap your legs around him, stretching the skirt. “It doesn’t matter.”

So he takes you to the bedroom where he’s sleeping these days. He flunks you on the bed, and you tumble to fall on your face. The sheets smell like him, and you breathe in his scent. You don’t want to sleep anywhere else after this- only next to him, if this is what his bed smells like.

He leans in from behind you, and unhooks your top and skirt, leaving you in your underwear. Your panties are ruined, so he makes quick work of removing them. But he keeps the bra on, and gently slides in under you until your pussy is on his face as he prepares to eat you out from behind. His hands are splayed over your ass, and as soon as his tongue makes contact with your already abused vagina, you scream out his name. But he doesn’t stop- he continues, his tongue harshly fucking your cunt. When he’s done making you orgasm again like that, and you’re done screaming his name into his pillow, he finally moves away from you. You fall limp on the bed, as you hear him take off his clothes. Eventually he cages you from behind, and slowly fills you up from behind, one hand on your neck and the other rubbing your nipple over your bra.

So he fucks you like that, his cold chain makes sparks every time it brushes against your spine. “Sir, please! Faster, please-” Wonwoo doesn’t reply to any of your begging, but he responds physically to everything you say, by doing the exact opposite and dragging out your misery. His hands don’t leave your nipples as he leisurely fucks you. “Fuck, Y/N, not even four months, and you’re tight like a virgin again.” Your hands slip and weakly try to clutch at the bedsheets, but you feel useless, like a toy, and he feels every inch of skin which he’s missed out on all this time. You don’t know what he’s looking like now, but his hand presses your head down on the pillow softly, and his grunts and moans are soft enough to be enveloped by your own louder moans and pants.

“Please, I’m begging you, please- pl- faster- Sir!” And the second he lifts his body away from yours, thrusting into you faster, you spasm and orgasm right there, and it triggers his orgasm too. The warmth of his cum flowing inside you stays there as he gently falls down on your body, panting. When he begins to pull out, you whine, unable to say anything but he gets the message. He lies down next to you softly, without pulling out for a few minutes. When your body finally comes down from the high, you go limp around his body, and Wonwoo gently pulls out.

“I’ll clean you up.” “I’m sleepy…” “Yeah, then sleep.” And then you pass out.

When you wake up the next morning, Wonwoo is, unsurprisingly, not next to you, although his side of the bed is not cold. It feels like an upgrade, and you take what you can get. For the first time since you’ve gotten married, you’ve slept together and the thought of it makes you pleased for some reason.

“Morning,” he walks in, before you can properly wake up. He’s wearing a peach-coloured hoodie with sweatpants, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Is that for me?” “No, I didn’t know if you were up.” “Okay, I’ll go and get my own.”

So you do. You brush your teeth and make your coffee and return to the bedroom, and Wonwoo’s still sitting there, his back leaning against the headboard. For a second, you feel like you’re stepping into someone else’s married life, but then you realise it’s yours. It makes you giddy. You don’t understand why- it’s not like you’ve ever craved for Wonwoo, or anyone, in this way. But somehow, you’ve warmed up well to the idea of having him as your … partner. There’s nobody who could be an equal match to you, to be honest. Either they’d be seriously less intelligent and you would be able to hold no conversation with them, or they’d be arrogant as fuck if they were smarter than you, and they’d make it a point to make you feel lesser, always. So Wonwoo is the perfect match for you.

Although, Wonwoo could surely find someone better. Jeonghan’s words float in your brain once again, and you fight the urge to contradict him. Mrs Jeon could definitely be someone else- someone who’s less distant from Wonwoo, someone he could love truly deeper than just skin-level attraction, someone who would want to be with him for real feelings and not just a facade.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, Wonwoo.”

“Yeah, me too.” You both sit against the headboard, bodies far apart, as if repelled again by magnetic force, no matter how close you were last night.

“Okay, you go first then.”

So he says, “Last night was… a mistake. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I don’t… want to do this with you.”

Oh fuck. You did not see that coming. Sure, the relationship could have been a mistake. Getting married without him getting anything out of it could have been a mistake. Continuing this marriage after your dad’s treatment was successful could have been a mistake. But last night? Last night had felt so right to you. There was no one who knew your body like Wonwoo did, and you knew it went the other way round too. Then how could he say that?

He continues, “I don’t want to be fuckbuddies with you like this, Y/N. We got married for a goal, and now that goal’s been fulfilled and…”

“And you want a divorce. I get it.”

He looks at you with confusion, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed. “No, that’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you meant. I’m an adult, Wonwoo, don’t teach me nuances.” You get off the bed and walk away.

“Y/N, you’ve got to hear me out when I’m saying something.”

“Wonwoo, I already know what you’re trying to say.”

“Fuck you, Y/N. This is why it’s not possible to have a proper conversation with you.”

“You’ll get what you want, Wonwoo. Don’t worry. Thanks for telling me, I needed to know.”

It feels good to get back to work after so long. The familiar sound of people typing away on their laptops and the busy movement of people everywhere, it brings peace to your heart. There are people hovering around you, hoping to speak to you, but Jisung somehow brings you to your office without you having to say anything more than good morning and happy new year to anyone.

It’s only when you enter the office and you see the pending paperwork that you realise just how much you’ve missed. There’s a deal with Lee Corp. that’s sitting on your desk, and Jisung presents it to you with a proud smile. “We got it done, Ma’am. Every detail you wanted, to the t.” You don’t know how to respond, because it’s unbelievable. “But how?” This is your dream- signing a contract with Lee Corp., the leading organisation for facilitating stools for robotic surgery in Korea. Although your technology has always been more modern, they’ve retained their large market share because of simply how long they’ve sustained in the business- after all, when it comes to health, trust comes before modernity for customers.

“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi set up the deal for us. The Deputy CEO and myself attended the meeting, I can share the minutes with-”

“Wait, stop. Wonwoo, you said?”

“Yes Ma’am, I… did he not tell you? He told me he’d tell you.” Jisung looks genuinely confused, so you know it’s futile to investigate him further.

“Well, as you can see, it’s news to me.”

“There is a meeting today, at noon, Ma’am, I need to brief you about the details before you-”

“I’ll get the details directly from Wonwoo, thanks Jisung. Ask my chauffeur to get my car ready please. I’ll be back before the meeting.”

Wonwoo’s office building is bustling with the same energy as your own, and you face no trouble finding his office. So you walk right in.

“What’s this I’m hearing?” He’s standing next to a shorter man showing him something on a tablet, but he immediately leaves when he sees you, bowing quickly. “I was busy, Y/N, you can’t just walk in like that as if you own the place.” He walks up to you, and gently closes the door, before leaning against it and asking you, in that fucking relaxed expression he always has, “What’s the matter?”

“You fixed a deal with Lee Corp. for my company?”

“What about it?”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“I thought it was best not to disturb you when you were busy with your father.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Wonwoo, this is literally the most important event that can turn my career around forever, and you choose not to tell me-”

“So you’d rather I invade your privacy for this? I’d arranged it so that it would be closed only after your return anyway, so it’s not like-”

“It’s exactly like you were making deals behind my back! God knows what subscript you’ve mentioned in the clauses with the Lees- yeah, step one: get into a trusting contract with Y/N, step two: slowly overtake all her market power, step three: make the company so weak that Jeon Estates can easily take over.”

You’ve taken a step closer with every word, and now you’re standing at a hair’s distance from Wonwoo, who’s just staring at you. “For god’s sake, Jeon Wonwoo, say something!”

And then, he fucking laughs. It’s a bitter laugh, one with no mirth, and it makes goosebumps rise on your flesh.

“You’re mad, Y/N. You’re paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch, and I can’t even be mad at you because I knew this is how you’ve been all along and yet, I can’t fucking stop myself from falling in love with you every damn day!”

It’s your turn to go speechless. The documents in your hands fall limply to the floor, as your jaw opens and you stay rooted in one spot, stunned beyond belief. “You… what?”

“You were so fucking right every time you called me a dumbass, Y/N. Because I am one.” He laughs again, taking off his glasses with one hand, and rubbing his eyes with another. Then he stops laughing and when he wears his glasses again, his face looks twenty years older.

“Wonwoo… I’m not understanding.”

“You will never understand. Because you don’t have a fucking heart. One would think I have a masochism kink- the way you kick me out every day and I come back to you like a dog. Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to take over your company? I’ve told you before- I have enough ways and means to bring you down already had I really wanted to. For fucks’ sake, it’d take a minute for me to destroy your reputation by spreading a rumour about how you wanted to bang me just because you thought it was a great way to get your dad to get into treatment.”

“You still could-”

“I’ve never taken advantage of you- never. I’ve respected you, with as much as I could. When you’ve been petty, when you’ve been oversmart, when you’ve been angry. And you think I’m really interested in destroying you? No, Y/N, if there’s anything I feel towards you and your professional career, it’s admiration. And respect.”

“Don’t lie to my face, Jeon.”

He laughs again, and kneels down so that he’s looking away from you, down at the floor, his body no longer held up in his usual manly stature.

“I’m so tired of running around and playing these games with you, Y/N. I’ve admired you since you’d been promoted two classes at once in ninth grade.”

“That is a lie. You’d gone right after that class to bitch about me, very loudly, to your friends, about how I’d been promoted only because my dad’s business was flourishing.”

“It was a front, because all of my friends, and mind you, I don’t mean Mingyu and Seungcheol, had become pissed at you for it. I had to… I don’t know… be popular? I couldn’t be any more of a loser than I already was. I’d lost a year as it is for breaking my leg and not being able to attend classes, and then… owning up that your intelligence and intellect amazed me and got me on my fucking knees would mean I’d no longer be the cool boy in class who everybody wanted to be with.”

You kneel down next to him, imploring him to look into your eyes. But he steadfastly avoids eye contact- and you feel the floor slip away from your feet. Things you’d believed for years… hearing them become untrue… hearing them being simple misunderstandings… it was too frightening and too overwhelming to be believable.

“But there’s not been a moment these last dozen years when I’ve not had my heart beat fast whenever I think about you… see you. I’d accepted your harsh words and your cold attitude as the norm because… I knew it was because I’d not behaved very nicely with you either, and I was to be blamed for it after all. But I took what I could get. A beggar cannot be a chooser, you know?”

And he finally looks at you.

And finally you can read Jeon Wonwoo. Every expression is as clear as day on his face. His eyes clouded with betrayal and pain, his lips twitching, seconds away from breaking down, his hands pale and trembling. You want to walk away, be a coward again, run away and escape to your bubble of yourself and only yourself. But you also want to take his hand, and feel the truth he’s speaking coursing through his veins buzz out into your own skin.

So you do that.

For once in twenty six years, you do the brave thing.

You sit down completely on the floor, and you lean forward to face him, and touch the tips of his fingers. You’re surrounded by the flurry of papers you’d brought to him, but in this moment, when the current of his touch matches the voltage running in your mind, you forget what they were. He looks away, and says, “Everything about you was so electrifying. You were the first woman who had never pedestalized me for my money and my position in society. The first woman who’d made me feel like just another human being. The first woman who I’d been unable to seduce with just a casual look. The first woman who threw a challenge at me with not just her attitude but also her smartness. And boy, you know how competitive I can be.”

“I was okay with being fuckbuddies too, you know. This way, I didn’t have to pine over you from a corner of the room at social gatherings and wonder how you smelt. I didn’t have to look at you from the other side of the cafeteria at school and imagine how it would feel to kiss the cream off the corner of your lips. And I fucking loved it. I loved being able to hold you close, make you mine. I- well… the first night you’d hooked up with me? If you’d not come back to me yourself, I would have begged you and confessed that very night. I would have cried at your feet to let me be your lover.”

There’s a single tear falling off his cheek and onto the point where your fingers touch. He doesn’t look at you. The sky outside darkens with the impending rain, making the room infinitely darker than it was earlier.

“And then… when you’d asked me to stop… the world had broken down on me. I’d given up on making you want to like me- but,” and he laughs again, that broken, mirthless laugh, “a man can dream, can he not?”

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry.” you whisper. You know it’s pointless, but you still want to say it.

“For what Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve just shown me my place.”

“For hurting you. I didn’t know…”

“No you… you didn’t even know you were hurting me. You were just being you.”

“And it’s sick that I hurt you so much when I was just being myself.”

There’s a long minute of silence, as he looks up at you. Lightning cracks on the horizon outside, your body shivering with the sudden sound of thunder, and his hands withdraw from your own.

“Y/N, I don’t want to interfere in your life any longer. I’ve lived happily this last year, being so close to you, even when I knew it wasn’t in the way I wanted. But last night…”

“Wonwoo. I-”

“It was a mistake because I can’t do this so casually anymore, Y/N. I don’t want to wake up next to you just like that, Y/N. I don’t want to be married to you on paper, Y/N. I don’t want to pretend in front of my friends and not make you mine in public. Seungcheol and Mingyu accepted you fully… because they knew just how smitten I’ve been with you forever.” The edge of his lips tilt upward in a lopsided, winsome smile, as he continues, “That day in the amusement park? You’d been so mad at me for no fault of mine at all, but you’d been so cute when you’d lolled all over my shoulder and clutched onto my clothes for your dear life. That time you’d made your first speech as your father’s heir to the company, I swear I could’ve run to you and kissed you right there, you’d been so hot up on stage, in the spotlight, right where you belong.”

He starts standing up, looking away from you. He begins picking up the first paper next to him.

“Oh, you bought the divorce papers.”

You spring up to attention at once, and snatch it away from him. “Wonwoo, I-”

“No, thanks for bringing them. Thank you for putting me out of my misery of this awful mirage called hope.”

“No, please, I-”

“I see you’ve already signed-”

“Wonwoo! Just please listen to me?”

He finally pauses in his tracks and looks at you. “You’ve said enough, Y/N-ah. You’ll get the divorce you so want. And if you like, I’ll ask Jihoon to put in a word to take away the deal as well. If you feel so threatened-”

“Wonwoo, hold up. Jihoon?”

“Yeah? You didn’t know? His cousin is the CEO of Lee Corp. currently.”

He picks up a pen to sign, and you literally lunge yourself on his body. It’s cinematic, a little unreal, but you do it out of desperation. It results in you being draped all over his body, as he falls back on his desk. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up. Let me talk,” and you clamp a hand on his mouth before he can say another word. You take a deep breath, as his eyes widen for a second, but then he stabilises himself on his desk and waits for you to continue.

“I’ll admit it, I’ve been an awful person. I’ve been mean, selfish, and paranoid- and yes, while I may have been justified to some extent, I … should’ve trusted you. It’s absurd though- had I not trusted you at all, how could I ever submit to you even in sex? How could I trust you with my body at my weakest, most out-of-control moments? Perhaps, deep down, I knew that, no matter how much we sparred with our words and our eyes, we… you would never harm me. And I think you know I wouldn’t have harmed you either, really. Because you’ve been nothing if not my twin spirit. You’ve been the only person competitive enough to challenge me. You’ve been the only man who hasn’t given me up even when I threw tantrums. And I want to stop talking in the past tense. Even in the future, I see… I see you as the only man who’d ever really understand me. If I tell you I need a week to just cut off from the world and focus on my work, you’d understand me. If I tell you, Wonwoo, I… well fuck it, I didn’t even need to tell you that I don’t like being lonely every New Years’ Eve, did I? You agreed to be my ally when our families turned against us. You agreed to be my husband when I hadn’t even asked you about it. You’ve… you’ve shown me that a world beyond me exists, you’ve shown me that I’m not the only person in this world I can care about, and you’ve shown me that you don’t need to be loud and obvious when you want to do things for others. And I haven’t even shown gratitude for it. So you’re right when you call me a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch.” He shakes his head, but you only laugh a little. “No you’re right. You are. Wonwoo, I… these last few weeks. When I was away, with my dad? I didn’t think it was love but… I did think it was longing. I didn’t even know when I’d gotten used to not living alone at home. I didn’t even know when I’d developed the habit of waiting till 10 pm to see you enter the house after working out, sweaty and your muscles bulging. I’d told you I had become dependent on you as a way to relieve my stress? Well, turns out now I’ve become dependent on you for attention, for affection, for a way to cure my loneliness. I am a paranoid, stupid, ungrateful, selfish little bitch because I’ve been so lonely for years. Apart from my parents and my sister, I… I’ve never had anyone else. And I thought it was a strength of mine … until I grew up and realised just how lonely I had become. And then… I found you, I guess? Even when we just had sex, it was better than spending all those nights alone, drinking on my own. Even when you’d tie me up to your bedpost for hours on that stupid yellow vibrator of yours, it was more intimate than anything else, and simply because… you even read my face and understood when I was reaching my boundaries. And I’m having all these epiphanies right now, and I feel like a fool for priding myself on my smartness, because truly, what have I gained if I’ve lost you?”

And then, he wrings his hands free and leans over you, and kisses you. Kisses you with his mouth open, his eyes on yours as he gauges your expressions turn from surprise, to wonder, to thrill. When he’s finally kissed you out of breath, you pull away from him to breathe in and feel alive again, only to find that the roles have switched and he’s got you pinned against his desk now.

“Baby, if only… if only I’d known, that your pretty mind was having so many epiphanies, I’d have not left you on the bed alone in the morning. Tell me you don’t really want the divorce, tell me what you said right now was not a joke?”

“It’s not… I don’t want a divorce, please Wonwoo. I had only got them prepared because I thought you’d want them- but…”

“Well, I deserve to be treated like a shithead for not making you feel just how badly I want to hold on to this marriage. Because even if it is fake…”

“Wonwoo, shh… it’s not fake if I love you, right?” You say, experimentally, hoping you’re doing the right thing now by being brave, and when he doesn’t reply for a second, your brain goes on a spiral again, but then he must know it because he kisses you again. “Say that again, princess.” So you do. He asks you three more times, and each time, he punctuates his sentences with kisses on your face, and you blush harder each time you admit that yes, you have fallen in love with Jeon Wonwoo. The last person you’d expect to fall for… but it’s true, and it’s real, and it’s warm and novel with how it’s coursing through your veins.

“I love you too, Y/N, if you’ll really have me.” So you kiss him back, your tongues lazily sliding against each other, the sensation making you numb. It feels good to kiss Wonwoo, but it feels even better to kiss your lover Wonwoo, you realise, and you go back for a million more kisses, before the grandfather’s clock in his room rings out and reminds you that it is noon.

“Wonwoo… Fuck! I’d forgotten,” you whisper as he kisses you down your neck, lavishing every inch of your skin. “The meeting with the Lees!” “Oh.” He looks up at you. “I’ll call Jihoon and ask him to reschedule. Can’t let work get in the way of pleasure, right now, Mrs. Jeon. Not when I can finally make love to you like you’re mine.” You giggle at his words, unimaginably corny. But you can’t deny how good it makes you feel. “Wait, who said I’m yours?” “Fuck, don’t mess with me, woman. You- you just said!” “I am, relax! It’s a joke, Mr. Jeon. I see your cheesiness has changed now… but your sense of humour is just as poor as before.” He snarls against your lips, although it’s sexy in a way. “I’ll not let you go for comments like that, you know?”

So he doesn’t. He calls Jihoon and reschedules the meeting, and then he drives you home, in his car. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, his hand wrapped in yours, as he pauses at every red light to kiss you. “I still can't believe it.” “You’ve got me here, Jeon. I’m not going away.” You can see the way his hands tremble, but you hold on tight. You’re telling him as much as you’re telling yourself, you’re never going away.

It’s still raining outside, but he covers your head with his blazer as he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs to his apartment, doesn’t even lower you in the elevator. Thankfully there’s only an ahjumma inside the elevator, who doesn’t seem to mind, only giggles when you apologise. “It’s okay. I know how lovesick men can be,” she says, before she gets down at her designated floor.

And then he doesn’t stop kissing you. He doesn’t leave your mouth even when the elevator door opens and you both walk out into your apartment. He doesn’t leave your mouth when you shrug off your heels and he takes off his own shoes. He doesn’t leave your mouth when he directly takes you all the way to the master bedroom, and just plops you down on the bed, you nearly springing up with the impact.

“Wonwoo?” You ask when he turns away and walks into the closet, only to return with a box that’s too familiar to you. It has all your toys in it. “Do you know, Mrs. Jeon, just how cruel you’ve been by forcing me to see these every time I open the drawer to take out my underwear? He opens it slowly, showing you the three dildos inside, and the bullet vibrator Wonwoo himself had bought for you. “Every time I see them, it feels like you’re cheating on me, because fuck, how can anything give you pleasure when I literally exist?” His words are cheesy again, but in that dirty way which is so on brand for him. You’re leaking under the suit pants already, you know that.

“Wonwoo… I… you know I don’t use them when you’re around.”

“And you shouldn’t have to use them ever. Not when I’m here to fuck you good like you deserve, like the cumslut you are, hmm?” He presses a finger under your chin, taking in a good look at you from above, before he orders, “Strip.”

So you do. He takes his sweet time watching you strip, while taking out one dildo from your box and his favourite ties. When you’re down to your underwear, he pauses you and extends a hand waiting for something. You know what’s coming, so you just extend your hands to him and let him tie you up. He smirks at your gesture, so he ties you up the poles of the bed. He also uses another tie to wrap around your eyes, and then he gently peels off your panties. “God, fuck. You smell heavenly.” Did he just sniff your underwear? “Wonwoo! Don’t!” There’s a sharp spank on your pussy, exposed to him in its wet glory, and you crumble instantly. “Little baby girls don’t tell Sir what to do and what not to do, hmm? They just take it as they’re given.” So he spanks you again, and it sends shivers through your body. Just the thought of fucking in the broad daylight seems like a sin, but then… isn’t this what married couples do?

You realise that Wonwoo’s seated himself next to you, and he’s gently taken your head into his lap. His hand is already playing with your clit, and you feel something cold and liquidy being rubbed over your pussy flesh. Lube? He’s still fully dressed, and you can feel the cold metal of his watch graze against your sensitive thigh, making you hiss in pleasure.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been taught a lesson, darling. Seems like getting married has made you feel like you’re beyond Sir’s control. But that’s not how it goes, is it?” You whisper out, “No… No Sir.” “Good girl. If you want to be treated like you’re married, then you’ve gotta earn it, yes? Now. Can you take one finger?” He inserts his finger gently, which is coated in the cold substance you’re assuming is lube. It isn’t really necessary, given how wet you are already, but it feels hotter when the lube is so cold inside you.

You nod. “Words.” “Yes, I can.” So he slowly pumps it in, before saying, “Can you take two fingers?” You whimper as he stretches you by putting in two fingers. “Yes Sir.” “That’s a good girl.” The praise is making your head spin.

“And can you take-” he puts in another damn finger, “three fingers?” Now it’s a real burn. It’s in till his knuckles all too quickly but you can’t say no because you want to please. “Quick, princess. Don’t keep me waiting. Yes or n-” “Yes! I can. I will. I’m a good girl, Sir?” He pumps all three fingers deep until it hits your spot, and you scream out his name. “Such a good girl. Now fuck yourself on those fingers thinking that’s Sir’s cock.”

You push up your hips, and he thrusts in, meeting your halfway. And then he sets the pace, as he fucks into you relentlessly, his other hand gently wrapping around your jaw and you take out your tongue, almost drooling, until he puts a finger inside your mouth too. You just know he’s smirking right now, with you being desperate for something in your mouth too, but you can’t care less.

Your orgasm hits you as soon as he orders gently, “Cum for me, pretty baby.” But when you come down from your high, he doesn’t take his fingers out. He gently pumps in your cum into your system again, and you writhe with sensitivity. But he uses his other hand to stop you, as he takes it out of your mouth. “Now, can you take a dildo along with these fingers?” You gasp, because it’s not imaginable. “No, I… it’s too much, Sir.” “Is it? I don’t think it’s bigger than your husband’s dick, is it?” And fuck, you can’t stop yourself from clenching at that. It’s crazy how hot he makes it sound, but it feels amazing when he calls himself your husband. And he must feel your cunt clenching around his fingers as well, because he whispers near your ear, “Oh Mrs Jeon likes that, huh? Too bad she can’t take her husband’s cock then, because it’s too much-” “No I can take it! I can- I can fit in my husband’s cock.” You can hear the way Wonwoo grunts, as he plunges his fingers deeper into your cunt. “But first, I’ve got to train you, yes? You’ve become too unruly. You want to be the perfect wife, don’t you?” “Fuck!” you can’t form words as you clench around his fingers hopelessly, overstimulation forgotten, and buck up your hips to help him reach your spot. He just laughs and begins fucking you again, all three of his thick fingers snugly fit inside you till the knuckles.

“Can you feel my wedding ring inside, baby?” He whispers again, and you cry out his name continuously as he drives you to a new high, so familiar, and yet so new. He’s your husband now, fuck. It’s a revelation that hits harder in the middle of sex, and you come instantly, coating his fingers with your essence.

“Oh, my cockslut’s eager to please her husband, is she? So eager to be the perfect wife, is she?”

“Yes, yes! Please- pl- I just want-”

“Want?”

“Please fuck me Wonwoo!”

He immediately removes his fingers from your pussy and you scream out as you feel empty. “Aaah! Please!”

“I’m not making any girl who’s forgotten rules in the bedroom, feel good.” He takes off the tie that was wrapped around your eyes, and you notice that he’s not leaning down at you, his glasses still on, but his eyes dark with hunger. God, he’s hot.

“I’m sorry Sir.”

There’s a sharp spank to your clit, and you jump. It’s too much, but in the best way possible.

“I’ll ask you again. Can you take three fingers and one of those dildos you love so much that you torture your husband with its sight every day?” He doesn’t break eye contact, and you whimper in front of him, pathetic and desperate.

“Yes, Sir. I can.”

“Open your mouth.”

Wordlessly, you do, and he spits into your mouth. Then he puts in the dildo. As you see the purple dildo, which is considerably slimmer than Wonwoo’s dick, but about the same length, enter your pussy, you notice how much Wonwoo’s gaze has hardened. Is he really jealous of that damn toy? It’s funny, so you buck your hips up to meet the way he’s slowly fucking you with the plastic dildo, and his eyes become more dangerous.

“Are you that desperate for it, darling?”

“I want to feel full, Sir.”

And then something in Wonwoo snaps. He wraps three fingers around the head of the dildo and along with the fingers, he plunges the dildo into you, stretching you out much more than before. The burn eases out after a second, but he fucks you at an incredibly slow pace, which only makes you eager for more. “Faster, please!” “You want me to fuck you with this plastic toy how I fuck you with my cock?” “Yes! I d- I do! I just want to feel full!” Then his other hand finds its way to your tits and twists a nipple hard enough to make it painful. “You’re such a whore, Y/N. Just a pretty whore. You’d take any cock just to keep your holes filled?” “No! I … I only like it when Sir does it for me.” “Liar. Just now you’re so happy to take this dildo, huh?” You can’t even think straight with the pace he’s torturing you at, but you do reply, “That’s- aah! Only- only because Sir’s fucking me with it. Because I can feel your wedding ring inside me, Sir!”

“Fuck!” There’s another sharp pinch at your nipple before Wonwoo begins fucking you faster, and it only takes you a minute before he’s bringing you to yet another high which leaves you dizzy.

“God, you’re left speechless. Does Mr Jeon fuck you that good?” He leans it to kiss you, his wet fingers now wrapped around your breasts. You can feel the way your cum still sticks on his fingers, but it feels too good to be gross. You kiss him back, arching your back off the bed, until he pulls away.

He stands up from the bed, and languidly takes off his clothes. “So pretty like this, princess. Legs all spread out for who?”

“You, Wonwoo. My husband.”

He stops his movements and stares at you for a second. It seems like calling him husband has the same effect on him as the effect on you when he calls you wife. “Yes, you’re right. Your husband.” He sits next to you to kiss you again and this time, you try to sit upright, in spite of your hands still being tied. When he breaks off, he says, “So let me train you to be my wife, hmm? I want to fuck you so good that your pussy shapes itself around me. That you won’t even need prep when I want to fuck you because it’ll be so used to me.” Oh, no wonder for that size training. “Why? Does your cock get bigger now that you’re my husband?” He smirks, eyes cruel because you’re talking back to him. “No, because I need to fit in perfectly to ensure none of my seed leaves you when I’m breeding you.” And then he attacks your neck, and you’re moaning even before his lips hit skin because his words flip some switches in you that you’ve never even known. Sure, Wonwoo’s always fucked you raw because you’ve been on pills for years, but the idea of him breeding a child into you? Fuck. You’d never even thought about having a child, but this idea turns you on remarkably insanely.

Soon his shirt is off and he unties your hands. “Take off my pants for me, baby.” And you do. You tease him a bit, but that’s only fair with how hard he’s sucking your breasts, as if he’s born to do this. Before taking off his boxers, you notice the precum that’s leaking out so much that it’s made the fabric quite wet. So you lick his dick clean while it’s still inside his boxers, and you’ve got him hissing and grunting like never before. “Fuck, Y/N, don’t,” he pulls your head away. “Why?” He must notice the way his precum is still sticking on your lips, because he groans again. “I want to cum inside you. Breed you full, baby.” That puts a shy smile on your face as he takes off his underwear, and you finally see his cock upright, leaking and bright red. And perhaps you’re delusional after all those orgasms, but it does seem bigger than before.

“Please, Mr Jeon, take me.” And he responds to your begging. He kisses you softly, as he lines himself up with you, his left hand still pulling your hands up above your head, and your right hand clutching your hips in an iron grip that will leave marks. And then he just enters, without warning, till the hilt, and you both moan out at the sensation. You don’t know why it feels different, but with how he’s kissing you, almost softly and gently, like he’s a gentleman, while fucking you ruthlessly like he’s in rut, you’re in heaven for sure.

It’s also the first time Wonwoo is so audible during sex. He’s panting and moaning, although much softer than you, but his sounds spur you on even harder. He can’t stop whispering your name and other pet names in your ears, while you keep moaning his name loud even to burst his eardrums. He doesn’t care. He responds to every word you utter, every little request you beg, and he fucks you fast and hard, until he can’t hold on any further and his entire body is trembling with the incoming orgasm. “Mrs Jeon, can you cum with me?” “Yes, please, Sir.” And so you do, releasing into each other while still making out with each other. It feels like you’ve entered a different dimension of pleasure, and Wonwoo is here with you. It’s a safe feeling beyond description, and you pass out right there.

When you do wake up, you find Wonwoo sitting next to you with a cloth in his hands, wiping gently at your legs.

“How long have I been out?”

“About ten minutes?”

He doesn’t answer smoothly. You can see the way his hands move softly, almost worshipping.

“I love you, Wonwoo.”

Then he looks up at you, and you see the way his eyes are quivering.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “No, tell me.” “Nothing just-” You sit up, and take his hands in your own. Then you nod at him, gently urging him on.

“Was it too much?”

“Huh?”

“Did I push you too much?”

“No. I would’ve used my safeword if you did.”

“But what if you forgot the safeword in the middle of it all- what if you got too pushed by me-”

“I wasn’t, and that’s what matters. I remember it all the time, Wonwoo, you… the traffic lights aren’t really easy to forget. I would tap out somehow if I felt like too much. But it wasn’t, so where’s this coming from?”

“Nothing… I… I hope you’re not just taking it from me because I’m your husband now.”

And at that, you laugh. “Hell, nah, Wonwoo. You know I wouldn’t take it from you even if you were god. You’ve really got me all wrong, then.”

He smiles weakly, and you know it’s still on his mind. So you move over to sit gently on his lap. “Wonwoo, when I said earlier that you know my limits. I wasn’t lying, you know. You do. You don’t push me too much.”

“But if I ever do-”

“If you ever do, you should know that I’ll tap out at once and never forgive you. You always make me feel safe, Wonwoo.” And you hug him, and the fact that you’re both naked makes your hug even warmer and softer as you feel Wonwoo’s hands wrap around your back as well.

“I love you too, Y/N. I promise I’ll always keep you safe.” And then he kisses your forehead, and you snuggle your face right into the crook of his neck. He smells… like Wonwoo, and it feels like home.

“Now, how about some lunch, baby?”

“You’re hungry when I had to do all the work?” You gasp while still tucked into his neck, and he giggles with the way your breath tickles his neck.

“So what does my pretty wife want?”

“She just wants to cuddle you and sleep.”

“And my wife’s wishes are my commands.”

So he lays down, with you still on top of him like a koala, and pulls the blankets over you both, wrapping you into one tiny ball. You look at him with a fond smile, and you see your expression mirrored in his. “I love you so much, Y/N-ah.”

“And I love you, Wonwoo. I could love nobody else apart from you.”

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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reixtsu · 7 months

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Wanderer Meeting Scarameow

Wanderer x gn reader (gender is not specified)

You/your pronouns used

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: You and your partner Wanderer were cuddling in a rainy day until you heard scratching at your door.

On a rainy day in Teyvat, the idea of your teapot experiencing rainfall never crossed your mind. The steady pattering of raindrops outside created the perfect atmosphere as you and Wanderer cozied up together within your home.

Snuggled on the warm couch, you played the role of the big spoon while Wanderer nestled as the small spoon. His head rested comfortably on your chest, his closed eyes radiating contentment. Wanderer's uncharacteristic affection was a pleasant surprise, a welcome change from his usual snarky remarks that seemed to be his default language.

While the cozy ambiance enveloped you, a faint scratching at your door abruptly caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat, panic welling up inside you. You raised your head to inspect the door, and the scratching persisted. Oddly, it didn't carry a menacing tone; instead, it was a shallow, almost pitiful sound.

Curious, you began to rise from the couch, but Wanderer promptly stopped your attempt. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" he grumbled, shooting you an annoyed glance with one eye.

"Wanderer, did you hear that scratching?" You softly murmured into his ear, your fingers unconsciously toying with his deep blue locks.

The man grumbled, adjusting his position to rest more comfortably against you. "Didn't hear it, don't care," he mumbled before pressing his face into your chest.

You sighed, attempting to sit up, though it proved to be quite a struggle. Wanderer persistently pushed you back down as you fought to rise. If only he could be clingy all the time.

"Wanderer, let me-"

"No."

"But-"

"Do I shower you with affection like this often? Forget the noise and relish this moment of my love," Wanderer mumbled, his lips gently brushing the tip of your chin.

You nibbled your lip, struggling to refrain from showering him with tender kisses. He was being adorable – an infrequent yet strong card he played when he didn't feel like being his usual snarky self. Even though you yearned to stay on the couch with your beloved, the scratching continued, accompanied by a pitiful meow.

"Did I hear...a cat sound?" You mumbled to yourself, finally managing to sit up entirely, much to Wanderer's displeasure.

"Well even if you did, it's pouring outside!" Wanderer whined, another uncommon occurrence. You made a mental note to tease him for such later. Despite his protests, you gently freed yourself from his cozy embrace and made your way to the door. Wanderer sighed reluctantly, sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he observed you heading toward the door.

You approached your door with caution, and upon reaching it, you gingerly cracked it open to peek outside. To your astonishment, there was nothing to be seen.

"Huh?" You said in a hushed tone. You were about to walk away when you heard another meow.

"Mew," you glanced down and met the gaze of a dark blue cat with large, watery indigo eyes. The mere sight of the forlorn, rain-soaked feline stirred an immediate desire within you to care for it.

"Wanderer!" You called out, scooping up the cat and cradling it in your arms. You hurried over to your partner. "Look, it's a cat!"

The man in question merely squinted at the cat as you enthusiastically presented it to him. Wanderer shot a disapproving glance at the cat, mocking it with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "It's just a silly, soaked furball."

You pouted. "Don't say that… He looks like you."

The expression of pure amusement on Wanderer's face was indescribable. He let out a scoffing laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. How does that cat look like me?"

"He just does," you shrugged.

Wanderer let out an audible sigh of disapproval. Nevertheless, he cautiously extended his hand towards the cat, hoping it would sniff him. To his dismay, the cat responded with snarls and hisses, prompting Wanderer to recoil in distaste. Just as he was moving his hand away, the cat angrily swatted at him.

"The hell?!" Wanderer grumbled angrly, rubbing the spot the cat swatted. He glared daggers at the cat as the cat retreated nonchalantly into your chest. His frown deepened, growing more and more disapproving of the cat.

"Oh, Scarameow..." You tenderly stroked the cat's head, cradling it like a distressed baby.

"Don't tell me... You've already bestowed that ridiculous cat with a lousy name?!" Wanderer gasped, aghast and disbelieving. He couldn't fathom how the cat was obviously manipulating you with its supposed 'cuteness'.

You expressed your disapproval with a hmph, giving the cat a gentle pat. The cat's damp fur was gradually seeping into your clothing, but you chose to overlook that for the time being. "It looks like you, so I'm naming it accordingly," you affirmed.

Wanderer gazed at you, a blend of disappointment and envy in his eyes. Although he wouldn't confess it right then, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger toward the cat for diverting your focus from him. He recognized the absurdity of his emotions, which is why he refrained from discussing them with you. Nonetheless, Wanderer crossed his arms and regarded you with an irritable expression.

"Fine. Do as you please," Wanderer grumbled. "But that cat is damp and odorous, and if you don't clean it up soon, you'll end up smelling just like that wretched feline."

You knew that beneath the annoying, indifferent exterior he was displaying, there was a hidden, but small, concern for the cat. You smiled at this idea, and walked away to the bathroom with a content smile.

"I'll be right back, love," You said with that angelic tone you always have when you're in a good mood.

Slightly perplexed, Wanderer let out a frustrated sigh as he settled back onto the couch. "Archons above, I can't stand how much I care about them. The lengths I go to for their well-being..." He muttered under his breath. While his choice of words was negative, the tone of his voice held a lighthearted quality, almost affectionate.

While Wanderer might not have a fondness for the cat, Scarameow, he had intentions of allowing you to care for it until the rain ceased. As long as you were content and he received cuddles and affection from you now and then, he figured he could endure the inconvenience.

Even for just a while.

——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Author-kun's notes: This is my first Wanderer x Reader or Genshin Impact x Reader content that I have ever made! Being the simp I am (not???), I mostly read other's x reader work. Though I do write my own x reader content in Milgram and Bungou Stray Dogs, I wanted to write some Genshin content here too! I do love Wanderer with all my heart. He is the first Genshin character I saw and instantly fell in love with. I just gotta make sure he doesn't see my other waifus and husbandos. (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

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merakiui · 1 month

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ebb and flow.

yandere!floyd leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, nsfw, stepcest, obsession, getting high/use of edibles, reader is implied to have small breasts, octavinelle trio is human in this story, au with no magic, brief mention of alcohol use, brief mention of implied somnophilia, reader and trio are 18 in the last scene of the story (in case it isn't clear) note - like the tide, floyd's interests ebb and flow. you happen to be more than a passing fancy.

When he’s old enough to put his thoughts into words, Floyd declares, rather obnoxiously, that girls are gross and he wants nothing to do with them.

“All they ever wanna do is talk about dolls and dresses,” he laments, scuffing his shoe against the cobbles.

“You know I’m a girl, right?” You scoff and turn your nose up, mildly offended. “And not all girls are like that. I’m not like that.”

And it’s true. You give as good as you get. You lunge after Floyd when he yanks your favorite toys out of your hands or when he tugs on your hair, every infraction intentional. He knows just how to rile you up enough for you to give chase. You’re keen to wrestle him in the mud on rainy days in the same way he’s willing to race you up and down the streets to prove outlandish points.

Growing up with two brothers—though they aren’t your family by blood, referring to them as your step-brothers is a knotty mouthful you prefer to avoid—taught you things you never would have learned if you had a sister.

Perhaps their presence served to stoke the fires of playful violence—meaningless quarrels that were resolved in a matter of minutes, often punctuated with halfhearted apologies. Once, in the middle of a particularly nasty brawl, you kicked Floyd in the jaw and knocked his front tooth free. Morbidly amused, Jade applauded you for the show. Floyd held his bruised face in one hand, glaring viciously as blood dribbled from his lips. He reeled his arm back, but it never landed. Your father chewed the lot of you out before he could throw the punch.

“What are we going to do with you?” your mother would say while she patched the both of you up. “Always fighting like this… That’s not very nice now, is it?”

The twins’ mother died shortly after giving birth and so they never knew the concept of a mother until five years later when their father remarried. It was then when you joined their family of three, and the twins had taken to their new mother like fish in water. Adoringly, they would tug on her skirt and demand attention. She was all too happy to indulge them, lifting them into her arms one at a time.

“You know that means Mama and me, don’t you?” you add, skipping ahead of him.

“That’s different. Mama doesn’t count. She’s special.”

“What about me?”

Floyd takes one look at you and smiles that mean, mocking smile. “You’re even worse. You’ve got girl germs.”

You don’t bother granting him a head start. He’s already running.

On the cusp of a growth spurt, his face peppered in pimples, Floyd is only fifteen when you chase him out of your bedroom.

“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Your piercing shrieks and Floyd’s raucous laughter echo through the halls, drawing the perpetually curious Jade out of his room like a worm from an apple core.

He’s greeted with the sight of Floyd, who has clasped your bra around his head and is now parading about proudly. A plush octopus flies after him and smacks into the wall. Seconds later, you burst from your room with embarrassment painted on your face.

“Oh my.” Jade observes the scene unfold from behind his fist. His mismatched eyes glitter with mischief.

“You’re so tiny! Your boyfriend’s gonna fall in love with a shrimp!” Floyd sticks his tongue out at you. “Shrimpy (Name)! Shrimpy (Name)! I’ve got a shrimp for a sis!”

“That’s not funny, and Azul’s not my boyfriend!” You reach for him, but he avoids you with an agile sidestep. “Knock it off! Give it back!”

“But it fits me better.”

“It does not!” You turn to Jade and gesture wildly at Floyd, who is now batting his lashes like a princess. “Don’t just stand there! Help me out.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m much more suited to the sidelines. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your fun.”

You grit your teeth. “You ass—”

“So much noise! What in the world is going on here?”

Your mother makes her way up the stairs just as Floyd tugs the bra off his head. You round on her before the twins can.

“Mooom, Floyd’s being gross. He stole my bra and won’t give it back.”

“Huuuh. No way. She’s totally framin’ me. I don’t have her bra.” Floyd folds his arms over his chest, feigning innocence. “That’s just icky. Why would I have it anyway?”

“Indeed,” Jade agrees coyly, pretending to search for it. “No bra in sight.”

“You’re liars—you and Jade!” You sneer at them. They merely smile angelically. “I’ll kick both of you in your dicks if you don’t—”

“(Name), mind your language!” Sighing, your mother issues both boys a stern frown. “Floyd, sweetheart, it’s not nice to tease your sister. You as well, Jade. Return what you stole and apologize.” She bends down to retrieve the fallen plush and passes it to you. “You too, (Name). You’re family. Family shouldn’t fight.”

“I don’t owe him an apology.”

“And I don’t have her bra.”

“He’s lying! Floyd was in my room, digging through my clothes.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh!”

Jade smiles wide enough to reveal the braces on his teeth. “Now that (Name) mentions it, I did see Floyd sneaking about. Oh, but maybe that’s not right. I only caught a glimpse, after all.”

Floyd has no reason to look so betrayed. Jade oscillates between sides whenever it sates his hunger for amusement. Today, as luck would have it, he’s on your side. For now.

“If you’re as innocent as you claim, surely there’s no reason to keep your arms clasped behind your back.”

“You really don’t have anyone’s back, do you?”

“Floyd…” Your mother looks at him expectantly, her eyes soft despite her tone.

He thrusts his arm out and drops your bra. “Fine. Take it back. Wasn’t havin’ any fun with it anyways.”

“Honestly, you’re such a pervert,” you snap, swiping it from the floor. “Next time you wanna come in my room, you’d better knock first. How would you like it if I went into your and Jade’s room and stole one of your shirts?”

He sticks his tongue out at you, defiant like the brat he is. If your mother wasn’t standing behind you, you’d have exacted your revenge right then.

“(Name), be nice to your brother. Floyd, apologize to your sister.”

Floyd doesn’t look you in the eyes when he spits a mean-sounding, “Sorry.”

Jade can only snicker, feasting on this live entertainment like it’s the richest meal.

“And I’m sooo sorry you’re annoying and everyone’s gotta put up with you.” With an exasperated huff, you strut back into your room and slam the door shut. It locks with a loud click.

“Give her some time. She just needs to cool down,” you hear your mother explain. “But, really, you should know better, Floyd. It’s not right to go into anyone’s room and take their things.”

“I would never do something so egregious, Mother,” Jade admits, which you find hard to believe because he’s just as sly, if not more so, than his twin.

“She’s just mad I’m funnier than her,” Floyd says. A blatant falsehood if you’ve ever heard one.

You could never understand Floyd’s obsession with your laundry. Maybe he was just your typical hormone-addled teenager with nothing better to do but fantasize about women and their undergarments, and seeing as you were the only girl he was close to—both in age and as siblings—who else could bear the brunt of his delinquency?

Or it had nothing to do with that at all, and he was just determined to be as much of a pest as possible.

Back then, that made sense.

Back then, you were foolish.

Back then, you didn’t know. No one did. Not really.

Lying between your brothers, lost in thought, you stare at the plastic stars and planets pasted to your ceiling. A dulcet adagio trickles out of the tiny speaker on your bedside table. The honeyed vocals soften the static in your brain, snuffing every burden with beautiful bossa nova. You soak in every lyric, imagining yourself in the singer’s position: falling for someone in midnight blue, blooming beneath their touch, your dress falling to your ankles, exploring each other’s shorelines…

The fantasy floats away as soon as Floyd opens his mouth, and you’re brought back to reality. No lover in your arms. No midnight blue. No flowering feelings. No dress.

“When’s this stuff supposed to kick in? I don’t feel a thing.”

“Patience,” Jade murmurs, practically melting into the mattress. “You’ll know once it happens.”

“Well, I don’t. Your shit sucks.”

“As does your attitude.”

“Whatever.” Floyd snuggles closer to you, pulling your arm into his chest. “What about you, Shrimpy? You feel it yet?”

“Mmh, sorta… I dunno. Don’t call me that.”

“Once a shrimp, always a shrimp.”

“I did offer the other half.”

“I’ll take it if I feel like it.” You shake Floyd off and pout at Jade. “Mom and Dad’ll lose it if they find out, you know.”

Jade flashes his teeth at you in a cheeky grin. “I’m counting on you to be a sweet, dependable sister and keep my little secret safe.”

“Lips are sealed.”

“What a good pet you are. So obedient.”

You exhale a soft, gasping laugh. “You’re so weird.”

“But you’re smiling.”

“Only because you’re weird!”

He giggles and leans in close, his nose brushing yours. When he speaks again, it’s in a softer tone, near-hypnotic. “So you do feel it.”

“Maybe.”

With a petulant whine, Floyd presses himself against you from behind. “No fair. I wanna be all silly like you and Jade. Gimme the other half. I’ll take it right now.”

“You can grab it.”

“You’re closer.”

“Alas… My limbs are lead.”

“Asshole,” Floyd gripes, leaning over you and Jade to swipe the box from the bedside table. He often keeps his stash there. Sometimes it’s stocked with gummy edibles or mushrooms, all wrapped in plastic. Jade’s resourceful like a squirrel, crafty in ways you can’t fathom.

Today, you’re holed up in your room because you have a bigger bed. There are fairy lights strung up on the walls, providing the space with just enough dimness for you to see your surroundings. It’s the perfect ambience for this slow, lazy Saturday in November. Your parents are out for the afternoon and won’t be back until later, and you couldn’t be any happier to have the house to yourself.

As soon as the door shut, you exchanged knowing looks with your brothers and hurried back to your room. Jade told you he’d take you and Floyd to his favorite spot in the forest after midterms and then the lot of you could truly kick back and relax with some pre-rolls. He’d invite Azul and make it a picnic in the woods. A whole day filled with fun. In your heart, it would be a date. Your brothers would just be the unwanted third and fourth wheels.

Really, you could care less about getting high. Azul is more than a drug—he’s oxygen—and you crave him like an addict feens for a fix. Floyd thinks your crush on him is stupid and misplaced. You beg to differ. You’ve admired him since childhood. How could you possibly fall out of love now?

Floyd flops back into the empty space beside you, chewing the rest of the gummy worm. His arm drapes across your waist. “What’re we doin’ tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the library to study with Azul.”

“Lame.”

“You’re not invited.” You roll over on your side to address him, speaking slowly. “Don’t show up.”

“Now I kinda want to. I wanna see what you and Azul get up to.”

“Studying.”

“Mmh, I doubt that.” Jade sticks to you like moss, his eyes fluttering shut. “Azul’s studying, at least. You’re daydreaming.”

“Not my fault he’s cute.”

“I’m cuter.” Floyd’s lips turn down in a disappointed moue. “Ain’t I cute?”

“No way. You’re ugly.”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

“No one asked you, Jade. ‘Sides, ain’t that basically the same as sayin’ you’re ugly, too?”

“I dunno,” he mumbles dumbly, the words muffled in your shoulder. “What do you think, (Name)?”

“Get yourself a girlfriend and then you can ask her.”

“Won’t you be my stand-in girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Floyd curls his fingers around the strap of your tank top. He tugs it up and down your arm in a languid rhythm. You’re floating amongst the clouds, your mind filled with a pleasant fuzz, so scolding him isn’t a priority. “Forget about bein’ our sis for a sec.”

“Get lost.”

“How cold…” Jade sniffles.

“Shrimpy’s ruthless.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Floyd’s hand crawls across your chest to grope you through your shirt. “Mmh, nope. Still small.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“I think you’re sized just right.” Jade’s spidery digits creep along your hip and splay across your stomach. “Azul won’t even notice. He doesn’t pay attention to your assets like we do.”

“I wish he would.” You meet Jade’s half-lidded stare. “Does he talk about me?”

“In what context? You’ll need to be specific,” he purrs, and if you weren’t swimming in bliss you’d elbow him in the mouth.

It’s like pulling teeth with Jade. He makes things so irritatingly difficult for no reason.

“You know the context.”

“Sometimes he says stuff,” Floyd replies instead. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and inhales the sugary notes of your perfume.

“Good stuff?”

Vibrating with a woozy warmth, you squirm between your brothers. It’s stifling being in the middle of their sandwich, but the proximity is pleasing. Comfortable. Reassuring. You feel like an anchored ship between the both of them, safely pinned down amidst the tumultuous waves of your bedsheets. You sigh dreamily when Floyd’s legs twine around yours.

“He thought your sweater was real cute.”

“Which one?”

“All of ’em.”

“Hmm. Okay.” But that doesn’t satisfy you. “What type of girl is he into?”

“Why don’t you make him your boyfriend? Then you can find out,” Jade says.

He aims for a sharp smile and falls short. It mellows out into something stupid and lopsided. He thinks he’s the funniest creature on the planet, and in this moment he is because the retort has you snowballing into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe I will.”

Floyd tracks your throat as it bobs with every swallow. He glances at your jaw next, at the glitters speckled on your cheeks. They sparkle like miniature stars, an entire galaxy imprinted on your skin. “You’re wearin’ makeup.”

“Hm?”

“Perfume, too. Smells good.”

“I bought some when I went to the mall.”

“When?”

“Last week? Two weeks ago? I can’t remember.”

“You doin’ it for Azul?”

“Who else? Certainly not you.”

Floyd scowls at Jade. “Don’t answer for her. I wanna hear it from her.”

“You’re my brother. Why would it be for you?” you mumble, more confused than unsettled.

Obviously it’s for Azul.

“Why not? It’s not fair other guys get to see ya lookin’ this good. Why should I be excluded just cuz I’m your brother?”

His lips drag against your neck. There’s nothing special about his affection. It’s dubiously platonic, but you’re used to it. He’s always been prone to expressing himself through physical means. Too-tight hugs, pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze in clasped hands. It was cute when you were children, but now you’re seventeen and it’s getting harder to explain his clingy nature.

“I don’t care what other guys think.”

“Just Azul?” Jade prompts, toying with the hem of your top. His fingers slide beneath it to prod at your navel, and suddenly Azul is no longer the most important part of this conversation. “Have you ever considered piercing it?”

“What? My belly button?”

“Ooh, good idea. You could match jewelry with us. How about it? I’ll getcha some sturgeon scales.”

“Mom’ll kill me.”

“In that case, we’re both dead.”

You blink at Jade, searching for the meaning in his mismatched hues. He opens his mouth, unfurling his tongue to reveal the venom piercing. The shock washes over you like a wave, and just as it’s receding it hits you—what you’re looking at.

“Your tongue! You actually—since when?”

“Two weeks.”

“What the hell! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come with. Moral support and stuff.”

He laughs when you nudge him. “It wasn’t so bad. I’d like to get more.”

“Does Dad know?”

“Not at all.”

“Dangerous.”

“Thrilling,” he corrects, a minacious glint in his gaze.

“Jade’s changin’ up his whole look. Super cool, ain’t it?”

“And what about you?” You turn over towards Floyd. His hands settle on your lower back. He all but tugs you away from Jade, who frowns and shuffles closer until his hips press against your ass. You feel his mouth at your bare shoulder, lavishing it with little pecks. “Do you want more piercings?”

“You into guys with piercings?”

“I don’t really care. Piercings are great. Tattoos, too.”

“Then I’ll get a tattoo.”

“So it’s settled. (Name) will pierce her navel, and Floyd will get a tattoo.”

“Sure,” you agree, but you don’t expect anything to come out of it. Just a random idea thrown around in the haze of your high.

You’re closer than family should be, but that’s the last thing on your mind when you’re twisted between them. This is normal. At least, it’s the normal you’ve grown up with.

What isn’t normal, though, is Floyd’s insistence that he ought to shape himself into the man of your dreams when, clearly, the man of your dreams goes by the name of Azul Ashengrotto. But you’re not worried. It’s always said in jest, or you assume it’s in jest.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if Azul would like you more if you had a pretty piercing to show off.

You’re weeks away from prom when Azul says yes.

“Wait… Really? Seriously?”

“I was under the impression we were all going,” he says with that charismatic chuckle you love dearly. “As a group, yes?”

Your hopes plummet alongside pieces of your heart. “Oh. Y-Yeah, right. A group. Of course.”

“I do appreciate the poster, though.” He holds it up as if it’ll reveal a secret message when caught in the sun. The cartoon octopus you spent hours sketching, lining, and coloring smiles back at him. “‘It would be so tenta-cool if you could be the sea to my shore at prom.’ How ingeniously cheesy.”

Your laughter is hollow. That’s the last time I’m asking Jade for advice on ocean puns.

“I’m glad you think so… Hey, you’re coming over before the dance, right? We’re thinking of doing something.”

“A party before the party?” Azul rolls the poster up and carefully fits it into his messenger bag. It sticks out from under the flap. “I’m not opposed. What did you have in mind?”

“We could get dinner.” Just the two of us. “Whatever you want, really. My dad’s planning to send us there in a limo. Real classy, y’know.”

Azul falls into step with you. “If that’s the case, we might as well go all out.”

Sensing an in, you stare at him. “The girls in my class are going on and on about how prom’s gotta be this magical thing. It can’t get more magical than a fancy car.”

“Goodness. It’s really not that special. You can’t exactly put ‘Prom Queen’ on your resume now, can you?”

“No, but you can make lots of memories. So I was thinking—hypothetically, of course—if you’d wanna go as, like, my fake date. Like, we’re going as a group and everything, but if you want we could get flowers for each other and match outfits and… B-Basically, I’m just trying to see if there’s any merit to what they’re saying about prom. About it being magical with a date.”

“Hm… That’s true. It will be our final social event before we graduate and go out into the world. Our last chance to say and do whatever we’ve neglected in previous years.”

“Right.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” His stare is fixed firmly on the path ahead. “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“So…” You swallow your anxieties; your heart is in your throat. “So you’ll be my hypothetical date?”

“I would be honored.”

“Okay. A-All right… Yeah! Great!”

Azul’s pretty blues briefly flick over to you. His cheeks are tinged pink. “Wonderful. I… I’m pleased we’ve worked this out. All hypotheticals, naturally.”

“Yeah, definitely. Just hypothetical.”

“Did…you have a color in mind? Have you picked a dress yet?”

“Something pink or purple. Maybe red. I’m not really sure.”

“Blue would be very flattering on you.” As an afterthought, he scrambles to add, “But that’s just another hypothetical.”

You watch the way he wrings the strap of his bag. “I agree. Blue’s a good color.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I could wear you.” You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth, even more so when Azul raises a bewildered brow. “B-Because your name—no, sorry. That’s dumb. I don’t mean it in the crazy-murderer-who-skins-you-alive way. I meant in the way that’s like—”

“Cheek to cheek?”

“Yeah. No, yeah, that’s right.”

What am I saying? None of this makes any sense.

Azul laughs and nudges you playfully. “You can wear me. Hypothetically, I’m your date to the dance. It’s only right that I act as your accessory for the evening.”

“Then… T-Then let’s be each other’s garments!”

He hums his approval and the conversation dies there.

You make the rest of the walk out of school in awkward silence. At the gates, Azul turns to you.

“None of this is hypothetical, is it?”

You heave a relieved breath. “Not at all.”

“Then allow me to do away with pretending. I’ll be your prom date. Factually.”

“My factual prom date…”

“It…doesn’t sound as smooth as a hypothetical.”

“But it’s real.”

He smiles shyly. “That it is.”

On the night of prom, alone in an empty corridor, Floyd yanks you into a rough kiss. The music from the ballroom is so loud you can faintly hear it from down the hall. It pulses through you with energetic vibrations, joining your panic in an unsteady duet. You push at Floyd’s chest, struggling against the wall he has you pinned to. He breaks off halfway just to savor your gasp before moving in to reclaim your mouth. It’s a ravenous action. He kisses you like he intends to devour you, licking and nipping at every possible crevice. His teeth click against yours as he endeavors to taste the wine at the back of your throat—courtesy of sneaky, rebellious Jade and his discreet water bottle.

Finally, after gathering enough strength, you shove him off of you. He stumbles, hurt flashing across his face. Ferociously hot up to your ears, your heart stumbling in your rib cage, you can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it.

That wasn’t real… No way…

Still processing it, you smudge your lipstick when you wipe the drool from your mouth.

You and Floyd watch each other in silence. You’re waiting for him to break it. He’s waiting for you to run away.

“What…was that?”

“You were cozyin’ up to Azul—”

“Because he’s my date!”

“Yeah, but you—Shrimpy, c’mon, you know we agreed to go as a group…”

“And so what? That doesn’t give you the right to kiss me. I was going to—I had an entire plan for this. Azul was gonna be my first kiss!”

“Well, now he’s gonna hafta be second.”

You sputter in shock. “You—you’re so… I just… Wow.”

Floyd’s face hardens and softens and then hardens again. He looked like a kicked puppy a few minutes ago, cowardly and small, but now there’s determination smoldering in his stare.

“I like ya. I like ya a whole lot.” You open your mouth to protest, but he beats you to it. “More than a sister.”

And there it is—the truth you couldn’t confront.

Your frustration withers and blooms anew in a complicated tangle of weeds. “You…like me. Like… Like me, like me?”

Floyd cards a hand through his slicked hair and exhales a heavy breath. “I mean… It’s obvious, ain’t it?”

“Floyd, I… I’m sorry, but I like Azul. You know this.” Now it’s your turn to cut him off before he can speak. “You’re family, Floyd. My brother.”

“So what?”

“It’s wrong, that’s what! We’re family. That’s all we’ve ever been… Look—I don’t have time for this. Azul and Jade are gonna wonder where we went. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You brush past him, hoping to leave this conversation here and pick it up after the dance. But Floyd won’t have that. He seizes your wrist and tugs you around.

“Just…” He avoids your stare. “Just hear me out, okay? I just wanna love ya.”

“So love me like a normal brother.” You try to pull yourself free, but he holds firm. “I really don’t have time to argue. Actually, this isn’t something I should have to argue in the first place.”

“We’re not related in that way. It’s fine, isn’t it?” He grabs your waist and drags you close.

“Mom and Dad won’t think so. Azul won’t. Honestly, Floyd, let it go. We’ll talk later. Please just—”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

You inhale slowly, forcing yourself to remain calm. “No, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“I’ve wanted ya longer than Azul—than Jade. Longer than anyone. And I never got to have ya.” Floyd plasters you to the wall again, but this time he slots a knee between your thighs. “Drove me crazy every time I saw ya walkin’ around the house in those stupid shorts or when you’d bring your friends over and you’d wear that stupid nightgown. The soft one with the lace and bows. The one that’s so thin it shows your shrimpy tits.”

Your glower is so blistering it could melt him down to his bones. “You’re disgusting.”

“Maybe.” He laughs, but it isn’t funny. “Didja know? I wanted to kiss you in your sleep. Touch you all over. Stick my fingers in you and watch you squirm… Feel how tight you are when you cling to my cock. You’re still a virgin, ain’tcha? Azul hasn’t done it with you yet, right?”

You yelp when his hand slips under the ruffles of your dress and climbs up your thigh. “W-Wait—stop! Don’t—”

“Gonna take that as a no.”

“Floyd—”

“See? Can’t you say my name instead of his? You don’t gotta daydream with me around. I’ll make you feel good. You don’t need that stupid dildo when you’ve got me.”

His fingers press against the outline of your pussy, teasing you through the fabric. Your body goes rigid. “Y-You can’t… Not here. Someone might see.”

“Let ’em. Then they’ll know you’re all mine.” Floyd noses your throat and deflates against you, hedonistic and selfish. “You always smell so fuckin’ good. Like candy. Sweet and yummy. Makes me wanna bite you and never let go. Taste your shrimpy heartbeat in my mouth…”

“S-Seriously…” You squeeze your eyes shut and bite back a whimper when he squeezes your clit. “Get off of me. You can’t—you’re my brother.”

“Nah. Brothers don’t go around stealin’ their sister’s stuff and usin’ it to get off, do they?”

It occurs to you that you should be furious with him. He deserves more than just your ire. Instead, you can only feel intoxicated as you listen to him ramble filth.

“Remember that pair of panties you thought was clean? The ones with the stain.”

“Yeah, the ones I use when I’m on my period—”

“Not those. The other one.”

“W-What—” You slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your gasp. He rubs you in slow, deliberate circles. With dimming focus, you try to think of anything else—of boring, bland things—to fight off mounting arousal. “What about it?”

“I had that pair wrapped around my dick before you put ’em on.”

“So that was—the stain was—”

“Mhm.”

“Ew! You’re the worst! That was my favorite pair, Floyd!”

He snickers. “At least it wasn’t you. My old man’ll beat my ass if I knock ya up. Had to use the next best thing.”

“Use your hand, dumbass! Don’t use my stuff!”

“Then stop fuckin’ yourself on your dildo. I hear you through the bathroom door, y’know. Moanin’ like you’re in heat. All of it for Azul. I wanted to come in and help ya out every time, but I couldn’t. And that really ate at me.”

“I don’t want your help,” you spit, glaring.

“No? But you’re so wet. I think my fingers will slip riiight in.” He pulls your panties to the side and prods at your folds. “You wanna test it?”

You shake your head a second too late. Floyd’s already pushing two fingers inside. The breath sticks in your throat. He’s actually doing this, right here in the open. Someone could turn down the hall and spot you. That someone could be—

“A-Azul might catch us. Stop. You really can’t…”

“Aww. What? Don’t want Azul seein’ you like this? Don’t want him to see the mess you’re making? Don’t want him knowing you like being wrapped around your brother’s fingers?”

He’s mean when he curls them suddenly, a brute and a bully all at once. They press against wet, velvety walls, and the noisy squelch leaves you shuddering. You breathe heavily, little huffs that tremble sweetly as he stretches you out.

“S-Shut up. You’re a pervert.”

“That makes two of us.”

You yank him closer by his tie, intending to be threatening and failing. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Sure you are.”

Without warning, he reaches for your chest and yanks your strapless dress down to reveal your breasts. Your perky nipples poke out against the lingerie tape. He whistles lowly while he marvels at them.

“Still the same pair of shrimpy tits.”

“Nuh-uh. I went up a size.”

“Yeah-huh. I would know. I steal your bras all the time. Same cup size, Shrimpy.”

“So you’re depraved and shameless.”

“No reason to hide it anymore.”

He drags his fingers out and thrusts them back in. You choke on a stifled moan. Deep down in a logical corner of your brain, you know you shouldn’t submit so easily. It’s wrong, but you can’t stop the pleasure that washes over you with every stroke of his fingers. It sends pleasant bolts of bliss up your spine. Your knees wobble, and your thighs are sticky with your slick. When he grinds his thumb against your clit, forcefully insistent, something in your stomach snaps. You come undone in an instant, crashing against a sinful shore. Orgasm wracks through you in a powerful tremor, shaking the thoughts in your skull like a disturbed ecosystem in a terrarium.

Unrelenting, he fucks you through it. You’re boneless in the aftermath, chest heaving and mind reeling.

Floyd’s fingers glide out with ease, shimmering with your juices. He puts them in his mouth to savor the taste of you, his tongue slithering between the space of both digits. Horrifyingly, you admire him as he licks himself clean. Even though you shouldn’t, you wish desperately to feel that muscle inside you, working you towards another grand peak.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You’re still in a daze when Floyd fixes your panties and dress. You look presentable, if not slightly debauched. Your makeup is a mess, and Floyd’s all too eager to fix it for you. You stand still when he wipes at the corner of your mouth with his thumb and then carefully applies lipstick. Within no time, you’re back to how you were.

“Lookin’ good,” he praises, stuffing the tube in his pocket. “The prettiest Shrimpy at the party. They should make you Prom Queen.”

You swat at him. “Don’t…” And then you sigh. What does it matter? He’s going to call you that regardless of what you think.

Thankfully, the slow dance is only just beginning when you return. You find Azul lingering near the wall, tapping anxiously at his phone. Jade’s also there. Physically. You can’t say the same for his head. He’s taking a trip in his own mental paradise. Floyd stalks after you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. If you didn’t just squirt around his fingers minutes ago, you would’ve assumed the atmosphere of the party was to blame for his euphoria. But you know the real reason.

Azul doesn’t, though.

So it’s with a guilty heart when you lead him onto the dance floor for a waltz.

Your childhood crush—the guy you’ve loved more than life itself—is right in front of you, looking at you like you’ve hung the stars, but the only one you can think of is your step-brother.

That can’t be a good sign.

Floyd joins Jade in his corner. He gazes through him and offers his water bottle. It’s nerdy enough for its contents to be unassuming, what with its mushroom print, but Floyd knows better than to take it at face value. Even so, he grabs hold of it and downs what’s left of the wine. It’s so sweet it sticks to the roof of his mouth.

“Azul’s not staying the night, is he?”

“I’m not sure.” Jade finds you and Azul in the crowd of dancers and hums. “How cruel of you to want to separate them.”

“He’s not gettin’ laid tonight if that’s what he thinks. Not if I can help it.”

“I don’t think he even knows how.”

Floyd laughs. “Nah. He knows.”

“Does he now?”

“C’mon, Jade. He undresses her every time he looks at her.”

“I suppose so.” He smiles moonily, distracted. “She’ll never let you.”

“She won’t let you either.”

“I don’t mind a little pain. To be bloodied and bruised by her gentle hands… I know of no greater exhilaration.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “Azul’s got it lucky. He gets to hug and kiss her whenever he wants. Meanwhile, I’ve gotta pretend like I don’t wanna fuck her shrimpy brains out every time I get a whiff of her perfume.”

“The odds aren’t very favorable, but I suspect you’ve already had your fun.”

Floyd grins wickedly. “She’s cute. I couldn’t help it.”

“I must agree. She sounds sweetest when she’s caught in the throes of pleasure.”

Floyd starts to nod and then pauses. “How do you know—”

“Oh my. It appears I’ve said too much.”

“No, no. Keep talkin’. You haven’t said nearly enough.”

“You’re not her only brother, you know.”

Floyd thinks there’s more to that sentence, but Jade isn’t willing to get into the details. Not here, at least. He doesn’t have to pry too deeply to understand the hidden implications.

“Asshole. You went and did it before I could.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jade giggles. “A little midnight snacking never hurts. She’s soft and snug inside. Very warm.”

Floyd shoves him away. “Fuck off.”

As long as it’s not Azul, he thinks, watching him as he spins you like a gentleman. Anyone but him.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd #n/sfw #tw: stepcest #tw: dubcon

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my-cherie · 11 months

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𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗭♡

pairing ꒱ lucifer x fem reader / warnings ꒱ prey/predator kink + praise kink + pet names: little sheep, lamb, love + blood kink + primal play + dirty talk + oral (f receiving) + very slight breeding kink + dacryphilia + possessive behavior. wc ꒱ 2.2k / thoughts ꒱ no one can tell me that lucifer doesn't have a primal kink. somewhat inspired by the song moon waltz by mio isayama. NOT BETA READ.

You tried to quieten your breathing, your heart racing and breath coming in short, sharp bursts as you tried to hide from him. Heart pounding so loud you were sure he was going to hear, despite your attempts to outrun and outsmart him.

How were you supposed to run away from someone in their own home? How were you supposed to hide from him when he seemed to know exactly were you were before you were even there? It was helpless. Your trembling legs seemed like they were about to give out at any moment, but you couldn't stop running, you had to start up again, now.

It had started out simply enough.

You were sitting in one of Lucifer’s armchairs in his office, waiting for him to finish whatever paperwork he was working on this time and chatting quietly, warmed by the lit fireplace of his private study and fighting off sleep, having shared a bottle of Demonus with him earlier in the day.

By now, it was a rainy night and the office was dark because Lucifer insisted on having only candles lit at this time of the night. The dark clouds that hid the moon also didn’t help.

As you made conversation, your gaze didn’t stray from his person, observing his every reaction to your chitter chatter and your eyes darting to his mouth from time to time when he deemed sensible to retort your silly observations.

Because of the way you were watching him so closely, you saw how, at the same time you made some inconsequential comment about how you and Mammon had to run away yet again from some odd merchant because of the demon’s proclivity for getting scammed, you also noticed how Lucifer’s eyes seemed to sparkle to life, a mischievous glint in them.

“A chase, huh?” He hummed noncommittally, his tone giving nothing away and his fingers barely twitching as he stopped his writing.

“Yeah,” you had said, unsure if you had somehow pissed the demon off. “It was fun, really. Got my blood pumping. The adrenaline you get from being chased is no joke.”

This time, you didn’t notice the twinkle in the man’s eyes, nor how his lips formed a brief smirk for a beat. You didn’t notice any of that, which is why you were completely blindsided by Lucifer’s next words.

“Run, then, little sheep.” He got up from his seat, rounding the desk in long strides and pausing briefly when you didn’t move instantaneously.

“W-What?”

“Run.” He pounced suddenly and you didn’t have to be told a third time to understand that you needed to get out of his office now before you were caught.

Racing up the stairs to the door that led to the house’s library, you yanked the door open, barely having time to slam it closed before you were sprinting down the hallways of the House of Lamentation, the sound of his hastening steps hot on your heels, too close for your liking.

At first, you tried to lose him in the many hallways and doors of the big mansion, going up multiple staircases and almost entering some of the brothers rooms in your desperation. But no matter what you did, you could still hear the beating of his wings as if he was only toying with you, always one step ahead.

At some point, when entering the dining room, his silhouette seemed to appear from outside the windows, as if he was looking at you from above, observing his prey in smug amusement. Lucifer was relentless in his pursuit. No matter what room you entered or what way you went, he was there.

It was when his fingers touched your shirt briefly while he followed you that your body experienced a true fight or flight response, having to decide between running away or accepting defeat. At that time, running until your thighs burned and your lungs couldn’t take it anymore seemed like the best option.

Eventually stopping briefly to catch what little breath you could, you strained your ears to listen for any indication of Lucifer’s presence, but couldn’t help closing your eyes for a short while to rest. Your body was giving up on you, tired beyond limits from the amount of running you did in so little time.

You didn’t hear him coming. Suddenly, a strong hand closed around your left arm, tossing your back to the wall you were closest to. Your eyes opened up abruptly, gasping in surprise at the sudden motion and in slight pain at the hit. In front of you, caging you in between himself and the wall, his arms spread, blocking whatever escape plan you could try to muster up, breathing nearly as ragged as yours, disheveled hair and in his demon form, was Lucifer.

“Got you, little sheep.” It was a low croon against your ear, his hands just as quickly adjusting so he was holding your waist and neck, teeth rasping under your jaw.

His tongue was hot as he dragged it across your neck and then to your lips—his kiss bruising and passionate—that has you unwittingly shivering against him. As he devours your lips, teeth nibbling on your lower lip and nicking it hard enough for it to bleed, your eyelids close in a daze and you melt into his rough touch.

It’s when he pulls away from you that you realize that you were not into the hallway anymore, but in Lucifer’s bedroom, his sharp teeth stretching into a prideful grin at your amazed reaction. You notice that they are stained with red and shiver. Stained with your blood.

Once again, Lucifer moved quickly before you could react, shoving the sharp blade of his nose to your cheek and licking the drops of of sweat off your face that had formed after his hunt for you. He inhaled deeply, engraving your scent in his memories: fear, excitement, longing.

“You’re mine, lamb,” he growls, “I won our chase fair and square. Let me have you all to myself. Let me claim you.”

You nod your head quickly, still short on air and disorientated from his kiss. It’s not good enough for the first born.

“Say it. Say you’re mine, give yourself to me.” His grip moves to your throat, tightening faintly and strangling a short whine from you.

“I’m yours, Lucifer!” Looking into his crimson eyes, your own glimmered faintly with tears. “You won. Take me, please.”

Your begging seemed to be what did it for him, as he buried his face in your neck again and his teeth sunk into you, marking your unmarred skin possessively. A choked whimper escaped your lips as you felt sharp pain in your neck. Blood trickled down willingly into his mouth, once again staining his teeth red and letting him savor the metallic taste of you. He drank and sucked at your neck as the bleeding came to a stop.

“Good girl.” He praises you as he distances himself from your throat and rips your shirt off unceremoniously.

It's addicting how pitiful you look right now. He can't get enough.

Taking off his gloves in one motion, one of his hands cups your boobs, thumbs exploring your nipples and tweaking them ’til stiff while the other takes care of your jeans, jerking them off unceremoniously so he can have access to your soaked folds. He hums appreciatively once his fingers find your cunt, already wet for him.

“Already soaking wet for me and we’ve barely done anything, little lamb.” He laughed as he stood upright again, his wings letting wind flicker at your bare arms as you shivered because of the cold air. He sank to his knees suddenly and you were sure that you were the only one to have ever seen the Avatar of Pride like this, his hands spreading your legs more and making space for his head between your thighs.

As his tongue first laps at your clit, then drags across your pussy, you keen lowly, eagerly trying to raise your hips and grinding against his mouth for more friction. As he groans straight into your pussy, he continues to eat you out eagerly, lapping at your juices and raising his palm to press against you as two of his fingers slid inside you with little to no preparation.

“Taste so good, love, do you make a mess of yourself for everyone like this? Or is this just for me?”

“Mmmm…no, just you, Lucifer.” You whined, begging him to keep going. “Please, give me more.”

You could only continue moaning at every action of his, especially when he continued sucking your clit while he stroked inside of you, looking for your g-spot. It was when he finally found that spongy spot he was looking for that your hands came down to his hair, holding onto him tightly and making Lucifer groan as you rutted against his mouth, adding another finger to prepare you for him later.

“Luci, ‘m close, ‘m close!” You whimpered as you neared your orgasm, tightening your hold onto him, begging him to keep going and sobbing in pleasure.

Yet, as you were close to falling off that precipice, you felt Lucifer stop everything. As he broke free of the hold your tights had on him, he grinned up at you in a wild manner, his mouth stained with you. And as he rose to his feet, he took your arms in his hands once again, guiding you gently towards the bed so you both could lay down, careful to not let you fall because of your trembling legs.

The contrast of his earlier vicious actions and his now tender touch made you pliable to him as he placed you down and took care of his own clothing fairly quickly, his pupils still clearly dilated and his palms eager to have you.

Seeing as you were already fully naked, you could watch as every piece of clothing got torn off Lucifer’s body, your eyes memorizing every detail of him as your fingers trailed down to your soaked pussy to touch yourself, desperate for any pleasure after he left you hanging so close to your orgasm.

Mercifully, he didn’t take long at all, leaning over you in the bed, taking your hands in one of his and pushing your legs against your chest, putting his whole body weight onto you in a mating press. His hand caged both of yours for but a moment before he released them, lowering his head to you and kissing you desperately again.

“Such a sweet thing,” he murmured, “so pretty underneath me. Were you so needy to have me that you couldn’t even wait until I finished undressing?”

His words had you humming in soft encouragement as his cock pressed against your slick folds. “You want this, don't you?” he says, his voice ragged with lust. “Say it. Say it and I’ll give it to you."

“I want you, Luci, wan’ you so bad,” your body trembling in anticipation, you try to grind against him, your hips rolling down to feel his tip. “Please give me your cock.”

You’ve barely stopped speaking when his hips pull back and he pushes inside of you in one thrust, your cunt squeezing his cock as he bullies his way into you, his tip touching your cervix and his balls against your folds.

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, fucking you like a man starved, caught up in the push and pull of your body, in the way your pussy practically begged him to stay inside you, clenching around him so sweetly and squeezing his dick. Your pleading whines were like the finest classical music for him and the way your moans mingled with his groans and the slaps of his hips on your ass made him feel like he was back in Heaven again. You felt like perfection.

You drop your head back, whining at how full you feel with him deep inside you like this, his thrusts relentless and with an intensity you can’t help but want to run away from, taking your breath away once again. However, your head doesn’t stay like that for long before Lucifer is pulling you to him once again, grabbing your hair and staring deeply into your eyes.

"Look at me," he commands, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to see your face. I want to see how much you're enjoying this, little lamb."

He reaches down, one hand on your hip and the other going in between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, irregular circles. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge as you wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers digging into his back as he picks up the pace, driving into you with increasing ferocity as his thrusts get faster and deeper, overwhelming you both.

You can feel your orgasm building once again, your body on the verge of exploding with pleasure. Each time he pushes into you, you gasp, your body responding to his touch with a fierce hunger. You're lost in the sensation of him fucking you.

"Come with me, Luci, please," you moan into his ear as you finally get sent over the edge, clenching around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you release yourself around him. Lucifer follows closely, thrusting as deep as he can and releasing his seed deep inside you, marking you as his, finally.

As you both come down from the rush, your bodies calming down and your breathing going back to normal, Lucifer kisses you softly on the lips, his touch gentle now, before detaching himself from you and climbing out of bed to get you a warm towel from the bathroom, very softly cleaning you both up.

“I hope that wasn’t too rough, love, I fear I may have gotten a bit carried away today.” He whispers in your hair, Lucifer’s arms wrapping around you so that you can both cuddle on the bed. As you assured him that it was all good, he sighed sweetly. “Good night lamb, sweet dreams.” He kissed you once more, before you both drifted off to sleep.

#obey me shall we date #lucifer x you #obey me x reader smut #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me #lucifer obey me smut #obey me smut #x reader #smut #lucifer avatar of pride #shall we date lucifer #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #om! lucifer

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fourbrickstall · 1 year

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Kitten feeding time

Saw some nice light on the balcony this morning so I quickly grabbed a set, Eight Studs, and used a custom minifigure I had taken with me on a trip to Menorca last weekend.

I didn't get any shots of her that would do her justice then-- it was rainy and windy all week-- so I wanted to set her up in a cozy house for this photo.

For her "story", @imaminiartaur mentioned she gets to pet cats and dogs all day at her new job and so I thought that would be a good thing for this minifigure to do.

I'll write up a BTS for my Take Better Toy Photos newsletter next week to show how I mixed natural and artificial lighting to get this shot (and why I would do that in the first place).

#lego #kitten #kitties #lego photo #lego photography #brickcentral

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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