✨Mickey✨

smut warnings. baby oil, pet names, threesome, unprotected vaginal sex, double penetration(one hole), degradation/praise

“God damn, your step-brothers are so hot.” Your friend says, sucking a hissed breath between her teeth. “I’d do anything to get stuck between those two.”

“You’re sick,” you mutter, slapping her oiled up shoulder, warmed and glistening under the last days of summer sun. “They’re my brothers.”

“Step-brothers.” She shrugs, continuing to eye the two dunking each other underwater with headlocks. “Come on, that’s like… universally a big turn on.”

“Yeah, well not to me.” You say, rolling your eyes before returning to watch the commotion in the pool travel closer, splashing too close to where you lay. “You wouldn’t think they’re so hot if you had to live with them like I do.”

“Believe me, I definitely would.” She sighs, dragging one of the legs of her sunglasses between the seam of her lips. “Don’t know how you resist, I swear they get bigger and buffer every time they visit.”

Now that is true, you silently agree, shielding your eyes from the sun to take in a better look.

“Jaemin’s so broad,” she continues, nibbling at her glasses. “And Jeno’s so lean.. nothing but muscle on him. I bet they get real rough.”

“You need to get laid.” You mumble, focused on the way Jeno’s veins ripple with each squeeze around Jaemin’s neck. The two red in the face from rough-housing for the last hour. “And not by one of my brothers.”

She whines, pouting and sticking out her tongue. “You’re no fun, if you’re not gonna allow me to do it… one of us should.”

Her eyebrows wiggle suggestively, leaning back and fanning herself as they begin to exit the pool. Jeno smiles, eyes more squinted with the sun beating down on his face and tight sculpted chest. “Hey, we’re going to head inside. You want anything?”

The dreamy sigh your friend let’s out doesn’t go unnoticed, whether it be from Jeno’s charm or Jaemin’s perfected way of continuing to not acknowledge your existence; too busy patting his flat smooth stomach dry. It’s all a show of course, he knows he looks too damn good.

“I’m okay, thanks Jeno.”

He nods, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder to continue their playful match as they pass through the sliding doors back into your house.

“He’s so cute,” your friend continues to fawn over the two, squealing that you must have been a saint in a past life to have ended up in such a lucky situation.

“It’s not luck.” You disagree, shushing her. “Anyway enough of this, I have a date to get ready for tonight, the last thing on my mind is Jeno or Jaemin.”

She sighs, shoulders slumping as she lays back. “Meanwhile, I’ll be home dreaming about your step-brothers railing me into the next universe.”

Yeah, in your dreams they’ve had their way with you once or twice.. maybe more than a couple handful of times. It doesn’t help that neither of them has ever attempted to be discreet about their sexual conquests when they’re home. It’s the main reason you can’t even stare at a phallic shaped object for too long without venturing into lewd thoughts of your step-brothers acting out their usual horny himbo behavior with you.

The headache you currently have for example is all Jaemin’s fault, keeping you up into the late AM hours with two sluts screaming from his bedroom akin to something straight out of a horror film. That’s how you found your way to the kitchen to distract your mind from the deeper throaty moans between their banshee-like cries. Maybe water would quench the thirst closing up your throat, but how to stop the aching heat between your thighs..

“What’re you doing up?” His groggy voice emerged, feet patting their way across kitchen tile toward the open fridge you’ve been standing in front of for a minute now contemplating if you should make a sandwich or not.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you sneer, side-eyeing him with a mean look. Your step-brother's afterglow has his eyes dropping at the corners, smiling lazily as he reaches past you for two water bottles.

“Try counting sheep?” He doesn’t even acknowledge you with a glance, moving to sit at the kitchen island and chug down one of the waters. Not even bothering to pull on a shirt before coming down, because why would you question the bright red and pink scratches lining his upper back. It’s dim enough to make it weird if you mention it, too observant on your part.

“I don’t think that will help.” You say, rolling your eyes and shifting down to the cabinet filled with snacks. “Too much noise, not even sheep can drown that out.”

“Hmm,” Jaemin hums, fixing his messy hair still sweaty at the roots. “That’s weird, I never hear anything.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

The sound of a chair scrapes across the tile, feet patting toward the same way he came in from but coming to a stop too close, right behind you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He whispers, hovering near the back of your ear. “Am I doing something to keep you up at night?”

Jaemin knows you hear everything with your bedroom being right in-between his and Jeno’s. Only a wall apart from the debauchery taking place mere feet away from you. “You’ve never complained before..” he reaches for your hair, tossling it behind you and gathering most down the center of your back.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Hmm, sounds to me like you’re eavesdropping?” You can pick up a smirk in his tone, shivering down your spine as his palm weighs down on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me my sweet innocent little sister is a pervert? What would your father think.”

He presses closer, reaching out in front of you to grab a protein bar, groin rocking against your backside as he leans up to reach for it above both of your heads. “It’s—it’s not that.” You bite down on your lip, eyes squeezing shut to push away the thought of just how thick he feels pressed against your ass. The shape of his length prominent and hot, half-hard where he digs into you.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin grunts, pushing down on your shoulder heavier for leverage to reach higher, lightly grazing the bar with the tips of his fingers. “What’s keeping you up?”

“Neighbors.. neighbors dog.” You lie, shaking away the memories of high-pitched moans and screams buried into pillows. “Barks a lot, near my window.”

Jaemin tsks, successfully pulling down the snack he’s been reaching for but not without aligning the dip between your ass with his growing size. “What a pesky dog.” He leans forward, lips brushing your ear. “Maybe you need some new headphones, I’ll buy you some this weekend. Can’t have my baby sis losing out on precious sleep.”

With one last dig of his hips against yours, he grins, patting the top of your head. “Get some sleep baby.”

You had to grip onto the end of the cabinet to keep your knees from failing you, dropping your head down to suppress a whimper. Jaemin’s so mean, so fucking mean for what? Maybe you are a pervert though, secretly lusting after not just one—but both of your step-siblings. God your parents would ship you off to boarding school if they knew you couldn’t catch a wink of sleep after that.

No, not with your ear pressed up against the wall trying to mute every sound that couldn’t have come from one of the main characters of your daily fantasies. Between having both Jaemin and Jeno back home for summer, you haven’t seen a day of peace.

Your friend was right, maybe she needs to get laid, but more than anything you need to be fucked. Fucked hard enough for your soul to leave your body and make a trip to heaven and back.

That explains the deep set bags under your eyes today, hidden under the sunglasses that also do a great job of masking your lack of ability to take in each wet rippling muscle lining Jeno’s stomach, or Jaemin’s thick biceps flexing and gripping around his neck.

A defeated sigh solidifies your decision to get in a quick nap before it’s time to get ready for your date tonight. You won’t be of much use for another man if you’re still stuck in a horny whirlwind fantasy anyway.

What was that Jaemin said to you last night? Count sheep?

One. Two. Three..

“Where are you going?”

Jeno’s sitting on top of the dryer mindlessly scrolling through his phone, double-taking at the sound of you entering the laundry room; his eyes nearly falling out of their sockets at the length of your skirt.

“Out.” You say, squatting a bit to sort through your clean basket of clothes. “Have you seen my favorite bra?”

Jeno jumps off the machine, head ducking lower, catching a glimpse of sheer lace baby pink between your thighs. “What?”

“My bra,” you stand, cupping around your chest. “It’s light pink, floral trimming, the cups are see-through.”

He gapes, mouth going dry taking in the rest of your appearance. “Where are you going?”

“Hello, earth to Jeno!” Waving around, you reach out to flick his forehead, wrist caught mid-air before you reach. “I asked you a question!”

He scoffs, tugging you closer. “Why would I have your bra?! Are you not wearing it?” The realization has Jeno pulling you arm up to better stare at your chest, a faint shadow of nipple peeks through the cotton material hugging your breasts.

“What the hell are you wearing?!” He’s flabbergasted, scanning up and down your figure and shaking his head in disapproval. “You can’t go out like this.”

Pulling free from his hold you roll your eyes, returning to the basket of fresh laundry in search of your undergarments. “You don’t like it?”

Jeno pauses, mouth opening and shutting again, lips pouting out. He definitely likes it, but you shouldn’t be out in public revealing this much of your body to anyone.. it’s different at home; no one other than him and Jaemin to see you prance around in oversized t-shirts barely hitting beneath your ass. Not that they’ve ever wondered what would happen if you bent down to pick something up in front of them, not that they’ve ever caught themselves turning their heads toward the stairs in unison when you come skipping down, bouncing away.

“You look..” Jeno hums, taking too long to admire the smooth backs of your thighs leading up to the plump roundness your skirts doing a poor job of hiding. “..it’s just.. would your dad let you wear that out??”

Snorting, you stand up to glare at him with your hands on your hips, head cocked to the side. “He’s not here to stop me, is he?”

“No but he asked us to watch over you, I don’t think your dad would like it if he knew I let you leave the house looking like..”

“Like what?” You snap back, stepping forward to get in his face.

“Like..”

“Go on.”

“Like a common street whore.” Jeno straightens out, clearing his throat, chin tilted in to appear serious. “Walking around like you’re asking for it.”

Smiling, you poke at his chest, your step-brother’s resolve crumbling as you softly laugh. “Maybe I am.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?!” Jeno groans, shaking his head again. “I can’t let you go out like that, I won’t allow it.”

“Oh you won’t allow it? Do you think you’re my daddy?” You ask, taunting him further with another prod at his chest; mascara heavily coated eyelashes batting mischievously.

Jeno swallows, biting at the sides of his tongue, annoyed and aroused by everything. The way you’re dressed, the way you keep touching him, the silky tone you say that word in.

“Where exactly do you need to go dressed like that?” He repeats, the sound of the dryer cycle coming to an end clearing his foggy mind for a moment.

Sighing, you roll your eyes, adjusting the loose bolero cashmere slipping from your shoulders. “The new neighbor invited me over for dinner and a movie, we’re not going out. He’s gonna cook me a nice American meal because I mentioned how much I miss it back home when we met.”

Jeno’s eyes dart back and forth in thought, a light bulb coming to life behind them. “THE AMERICAN GUY? THAT GROWN ASS MAN?!”

“He’s 28!”

“Exactly!” His demeanor changes drastically, arms flailing angrily. “Oh you are not going out to see him dressed like that! In fact! You aren’t going anywhere near that creep!”

“He’s not a creep! God Jeno.” Shoving past him you continue muttering about how he needs to calm down, you don’t need to take orders from him or anyone. “I’m an adult.”

“He’s way too old for you.” Jeno paces behind you, too frustrated to notice you’ve begun to pull out his dry laundry, sorting through it in search of your bra. “I’m gonna have to call your dad.”

“Jeno! Do not!” You snap again, letting out an annoyed huff. “I never snitch on you and Jaemin all the nights you sneak out and bring back girls to fuck!”

Jeno gapes again, moving to stand by your side and snatch his boxers before you grab them. “We don’t do that!”

“Oh you don’t? I must have imagined those girly moans coming from your bedrooms screaming oh yes! Daddy please! Rip my ass apart! Your cocks so fucking big!” You slap down on the dryer moaning out, arching forward pressing your breast against the machine, eyes rolling up sarcastically. “Ugh yes daddy! Cum on my ass!”

Jeno gulps, eyebrows twisting together as his cock jumps inside the confines of his jeans, gnawing at his bottom lip to contain an anguished groan. “That’s..”

“Piece of shit dryer,” you curse, bending down to reach further inside, the strap of your bra meeting your fingers. “I swear if this thing ate my bra!”

Jeno runs his hands through his hair, tugging at chunks trying to regain his composure. The position you’ve dropped to on your knees, ass shimmying in the air further pushing him to his limit not helping one bit.

There’s no way he can let you leave this house dressed like this, no way he can let that pervert down the street take advantage of his little innocent step-sister, no way he can let anyone ruin you other than him.

His hand trembles inches away from your backside, soft supple skin fully exposed just aching to be slapped, marked up and bruised by his hands.

“Jeno! Help me!” You whine, shaking and kicking out your feet annoyed. “I think I’m stuck!”

Oh fuck.

“Wh-what..” Jeno’s eyes travel around quickly, ending back on your ass wiggling around in a weak attempt to free yourself from the machine you’ve gotten stuck inside of. “W-what… quit fucking around.”

“I’m not! I’m stuck, Jeno! You have to get me out!” Your sad excuse of a skirt flares up as you start to kick, ankles knocking together the more you whine and yell at him. “I can’t believe this!”

Me either, Jeno thinks, swallowing a thick wad of saliva to coat his throat. “This has to be a joke, you’re…you’re trying to..” he pauses, mewling over what exactly it is you’re doing to him. On your knees, ass rippling under your cute little panties, back arched low in this much too perfect position.

“I’m not joking! Jeno I’m really stuck! I think my sweater got caught in the machine!” Your whiney high-pitched tone doesn’t help Jeno’s growing problem twitching against his inner thigh.

“What am I supposed to do?! Break the fucking dryer?!” Jeno splutters, forcing himself to look away and draw in shallow breaths.

SHE’S YOUR SISTER.

SHE’S YOUR SISTER.

SHE’S YOUR SISTER.

The chant shouting in his head gets interrupted by the devil on his shoulder, speaking in an oddly similar tone he’s more than familiar with. ‘She’s just our step-sister Jeno, it’s not a crime.’

That’s what Jaemin’s always said whenever they’ve drank a little too much and toyed with the idea of hooking up with you. ‘Believe me, I’m gonna fuck her at some point, you know I can’t keep it in my pants this long.’

Jaemin had a point, but even then Jeno can’t deny the guilt he feels as his gaze retreats back to your ample backside, arched out pathetically, fully pushing your plump folds out against the thin layer of underwear leaving nothing to his imagination.

“Do something!” You shout, near tears from the dryer's heat sweating your makeup off. All this effort to look pretty for Johnny only for it to be completely wasted over this stupid damn bra. This is all Jeno’s fault! He never even clears out the lint before throwing his clothes in!

“Okay okay!” The existential crisis your step-brother’s going through fails to transcend through his response, even if he’s fully messed up his hair style by ripping at tufts while pacing behind you. “What if.. I can try to pull you out?”

“Hurry! It’s so hot in here! I’m melting!”

Could you be more dramatic? He wants to scoff, rolling his eyes as he drops down to his knees and his hands hover over your hips. “I’m going to try and reach in, alright?”

“God damnit Jeno! Fucking hurry up!” You screech, feet stomping against the ground between his thighs.

“Oh shit,” Jeno presses in closer to avoid your heels colliding with his sack, eyes going wide upon contact with your core, all warm and damp where his lower stomach meets the forbidden area between your thighs. “Fuck.”

He has to catch his breath again, sliding his hands through the space left at your sides. He definitely could avoid touching you given the amount of space, but that doesn’t stop him from smoothing up your hips and waist, squeezing his way up as he bends closer with his chin resting atop the dryer. The new angle aligns his hips with yours, his now fully hard length digging into your thigh the more he leans his body in to lock under your armpits and pull your shoulders back. “Come on, work with me here.”

“That hurts! It’s my sweater Jeno! My sleeves wrapped up in the machine, I can’t get it out!” He can feel you tug, shifting back further into his groin the more you attempt to move and release your arm from the uncomfortable position you’re trapped in.

“Sorry sorry..” he gasps, unable to stop himself from rocking forward against your warmth. “Should I try to take your top off?” Shaking his head in disbelief, he circles against your ass, biting down on his teeth to suppress a groan when his length slots between your folds. Even with the material of your clothes keeping you apart, the idea alone of having you so vulnerable to his ministrations is more than enough. High alone off how unsuspecting his every calculated move is, because why would your big brother take advantage of you like this? Jeno would never, he loves you too much.

“Ughh…” you whine, head drooping with sweat pouring down your face faster than a river flow. “This is so stupid!” You cry, shimmying back again, too exhausted to pick up on the hard shaped rod pressed flush to your core.

“I’m so tired..” blinking slowly, you wonder how stupid it may be to call up 911 for this.

‘Hey my step-sister got stuck in a dryer trying to find a bra. Can you make it fast? She’s supposed to have a hot date tonight with this sexy American beef cake that lives down the street.’

Because that’s something that could only ever happen to you. Public humiliation that would only draw attention to your house with a blaring fire truck uselessly parked outside only to decide that the jaws of life would be necessary to free you from this comedic porn scenario mess of a situation you’ve landed yourself in.

“I’m doing my best baby.” Jeno soothes, maneuvering his hands to your back in search of a bra clasp to release. Oh right.. hard nipples, no bra. The entire reason you’re stuck to begin with. “I’m going to take your top off, okay?”

No bra, that should make this easier, he gulps, untying the halter strings connected at the back of your neck. “Maybe if we can get you out of this..” he tries to imagine your tortured cute face, tear stricken the longer you suffer in there. The image of your distress only makes his cock jump, rutting harder against your ass.

“Fuck, I can’t do this.” He whispers quietly to himself, too caught up in his own form of torture. What are the chances of pulling you out, tits bouncing freely as you fall back and land ass first onto the seat of his lap. Jeno nods to himself, pulling your top lower until he can sense the release of your breasts, likely resting against the still warm metal insides of the dryer.

“Try to pull your arms free now baby.”

Maybe it’s due to your exhaustion, lazily pushing back only to be met with your step-brother’s hips and a low groan. “I can’t Jeno, I can’t anymore.” You sob, pathetically dropping flat with your arm strung up still locked in place.

“I’m going to have to cut your sweater.” He thinks fast, glancing around quickly before noticing you’re no longer alone.

“Jaemin?!”

“Jaemin!” You shout, shocked by the mention of your other brother. “Huh?!”

An amused laugh traces up your back, followed by a round of applause and feet shuffling forward. “No no, keep it going Jeno.”

He leans against the washer, smirking to one side. “All this fun without me? You dirty fucking dog.”

“Jaem, it’s not what it looks like! She’s st—“

“No no, seriously, by all means—go on, don’t let me interrupt. I’m dying to know what you’ll do next.” He says sarcastically. “You’re really the luckiest motherfucker I know, Jeno. Found her like this before I had the chance.”

“Dude, it’s not like that!” He groans, gripping around your waist roughly out of frustration.

“Ow!” You squeak, pushing back harder against his crotch. “Jaemin, do something!”

“Do something?” He muses, squatting down near his brother to get a good look at your connected lower halves, skirt pushed high above your hips and underwear scrunched up between your buttcheeks. “I can do a lot, if you really want me to, princess.”

“Jaemin, no..” Jeno begs quietly, knowing his sibling better than himself. “You can’t.”

“Oh, but you can, right?” He snickers, snapping his fingers. “All this struggling and neither of you idiots has considered oil yet?” He laughs, patting Jeno’s back roughly before exiting.

“Where’d he go?!” You kick at the ground again, maybe Jaemin could get you out of here, he’s buffer than Jeno.. always flexing his muscles in front of you talking about ‘gains’.

“Uh..” Jaemin walks back in before he’s able to coin up a lie, a clear bottle of baby oil in hand. “Man, why do you even have that??”

“You know why.” He grins cockily, returning to match Jeno’s position on his knees. “We’ll just lube her up real good and she’ll slip right out.”

“What is this?” Jeno asks, genuinely bewildered. “Am I dreaming?” He raises an eyebrow, reaching to pinch your buttcheek.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Oh right, he’s supposed to pinch himself. Not you.

“Don’t think you are but either way, hope we don’t wake up.” Jaemin chuckles, nudging his elbow into his brother’s side. “I think you’ve had enough failed attempts at this, it’s my turn.”

Reluctantly Jeno’s shoulders drop and he shifts off to your side, hard-on pressed to your hip as if that will help hide how insanely turned on he is right now.

Jaemin makes a face, whistling quietly as he leans in to whisper for you not to hear. “I’d be 8 deep in her right now, you’re an idiot.”

“Whatever man, I’m trying to be a good brother.”

“Step.” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t count, besides, look at us and look at her—we’re like some PornHub dream come true. Think of the money we could make if we filmed this..”

“Hello?!” You cry out, unable to hear anything aside from muffled voices. “Are you going to help me or what?!?”

“Of course princess.” Jaemin says reassuringly, handing Jeno the bottle of baby oil to free his hands to grab onto your hips. “You’re stuck real good in there unfortunately, but your big brother has a great plan to get you out.”

Jeno shakes his head, mouthing ‘you sick fuck’ to the other, receiving only a much too cheerful smile in return.

“Okay, thank you..” you don’t sound too convinced, but at this point with your makeup all sweated off and hair ruined, you don’t have much of a choice other than to just go with it.

“I’m going to try oiling you up, but I don’t want to ruin your pretty outfit baby.” He winks at Jeno, mouthing ‘watch this’. “Is that okay with you?” He tugs on your underwear to ask without flat out asking.

“Take off my clothes?” With your top already rolled down to your waist and this bent over position you’ve been stuck in for too long now, you can’t fathom how much more humiliating this situation can get at this point.

“Yeah, sort of like when you use butter to help remove jewelry that’s too tight.” Jaemin shrugs, convinced he made that up. “It’s worth a shot to try, or would you rather I call the fire department to have you craned out of here. Might be hard to explain the hole in our roof to mom and dad later, and think of how much that repair will cost them.”

“Fine, fine! Get me out of here, please Jaem.” You whine again, lazily collapsing onto your stomach and chest.

“You don’t have to beg baby.” Jaemin can’t stop the smile on his lips from growing, slowly rolling your panties down to unveil your bald smooth cunt. He sucks in a hissed breath between his teeth. “Fuck, even prettier than I imagined.”

Jeno leans in closer, swallowing down a sob. “Yeah, real nice..” his hand lifts, hovering close by. “You’re right, fuck, I’m an idiot.” His hips jam closer, digging his painfully hard length into the side of your thigh.

“We should oil your entire body.” Jaemin pipes up. “You know, to make sure you slip free easily. I wouldn't want my baby sis to get hurt.”

That doesn’t make a lick of sense, you think, but who fucking cares anymore. Jaemin skims his palms beneath your skirt, tugging it over your hips ever so gently. Clueless to the visual of your ass bouncing against the material with each light tug, he curses under his breath.

“You see that Jeno?” He nods to your exposed rim, tight as fuck, as if nothing’s ever penetrated back there. “That’s a damn shame.. Our poor baby, so neglected..”

You hate to admit but everything your step-brother has said in his usual monotone calm voice has your thighs rubbing together anxiously. Because when you weighed the pros and cons of sacrificing your pride and ego, you failed to consider the most humiliating one: leaking down your thighs for your step-brothers to watch from a front row seat.

“Fuck.”

“What was that my angel?” Jaemin chimes, reaching for your top to drag down over your wide hips, the material showing resistance as seams pop open passing over the round pert of your ass. “You’re doing so good for me.” He says, acknowledging Jeno with his arm slung atop the dryer to stop himself from hunching forward and burying his face between your butt. “Well, for us.”

This has to be some type of punishment, you can’t even bite down on your fist to drown out the moan you let out next. Jaemin uses your weakened state to fully control the dip in your back, hoisting your hips higher to make your cheeks spread naturally and leave you completely exposed.

“God damn.” He grits pushing down on your waist and pressing his crotch to the back of your thigh. “Hurry up Jeno, soak her up.”

“You have to say it like that?” Jeno sounds near the verge of tears trying to uncap the baby oil in his tight grip. “Isn’t this—sort of..”

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna shove my dick inside of her in the next five seconds!” Jaemin hisses at his brother, reaching for the string keeping his sweats up. “Five! Four!—“

“Okay okay!” Jeno practically drops the bottle out of fear, squeezing its contents out rapidly with his jaw hung at the sight of your ass gleaming back at him absolutely drenched. “Can’t do this, Jaem! I need—need to fuck her!”

“What?? What’s going on!?” You shriek, jumping back as the oil dribbles up your back, only magnifying how obscene your ass looks shining with a thick coat of oil.

“This is insane.” Jaemin mumbles, shoving his sweats and boxers down in one go. He lowers down to speak into the dryer, snaking in to smear the oil higher up your back. “Hey, I don’t want to get my clothes dirty either, right Jeno? I’m sure you understand, baby.”

“What?” You sigh, eyes flying wide open when you feel it, hot and thick against your soaked ass. “Is that?—“ to make matters worse, you feel it again against your other thigh, bigger even, pulsating where he’s pressed, nearly burning your skin from how hot he feels. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin moans, smoothing his oily hands to your chest, squeezing the second he cups your breasts. “Fuckfuckfuck, I think it’s working!” He pulls you back more, the top of your stomach sliding against the dryer making the nastiest squeegee-like sound.

“You’re doing so so good for us.” Jeno finally manages to speak up, pouring out the entire contents of the now empty bottle in his hold, tossing it aside to massage in the mess pooling between the crevice of your ass. “Shit. What the fuck. You’re so fucking pretty down here. Of course you are, so damn pretty everywhere aren’t you?”

“Jaem, Jeno—what’s—“ you huff out, short of breath the more you get pulled out but your step-brothers thick biceps caging your hips.

Jaemin hushes you dismissively, gaining better leverage around your middle to pull you out, your sweater barely clinging to your arm anymore. “Come on Jeno, grab her legs for me.” He grunts, exuding strength he’s only had to use in the bedroom before. Lucky for you his favored positions have always left him in complete control, tossing whoever he’s fucking around to his will.

Jeno’s fast to listen to orders, especially if it means he’ll be in the perfect position to actually have you landing in his lap as if he manifested it to happen.

“Ahhh!”

Once your elbow unhooks from your sweater, you shoot out of the dryer like the log ride and Disney world, hurdled back by the extra force you and Jaemin had been using to free your upper half. The relief of finally being free washes over you, panting for breath that doesn’t reek of lint and musty heat. “Holy shit, I can’t believe it!”

Too stunned and eager to fix your sweaty locks, you nearly miss the sad pathetic groan Jeno lets out, clutching around your waist to keep you slotted against his rock hard length. “Je—oh fuck.”

Jaemin sits up on his knees, regaining his composure and breath as he wipes off his greasy palms by slapping them together repeatedly. “That was some show, look at what you’ve done. Poor Jeno looks about ready to burst.”

He crawls forward, grabbing onto your knees before you even think to slam your thighs shut, too caught up in the thick size nestled between your ass to even fully understand how naked all of you are. Naked and completely doused from neck to toe in baby oil, it almost seems too ridiculous to be real…

“Now now,” he drawls, relaxing between your thighs only held open by his palms cupped under the pits of your knees. “In a sense, this is like pulling out the Excalibur..”

“Dude, I’m fucking dying here! Be fucking for real!” Jeno sounds more desperate than you’ve ever heard him, whining like a puppy into your shoulder and apologizing with a feather light kiss.

Jaemin laughs, could even qualify as a cackle, smoothing down to your inner thighs. “Don’t you think we’ve earned a prize from our princess?”

The sweet charming smile you’re used to seems more menacing than ever now as he inches lower, heavy palms cupping your inner thighs and pulling apart your cunt with his thumbs to show off how wet you are. “Is all that for us? You nasty dumb little slut. Want your big brother’s to fuck your holes so bad don’t you?” Jaemin finishes with a hot wad of spit landing at your entrance to further drill in your shame, shivering back into Jeno’s hold as he sets a searing kiss on your clit.

“Fuck Jeno, she’s so tight.” Dragging through your folds he stretches his digits out for you to see the thick mix of baby oil and slick arousal forming clear strings between his fingers.

“Wetter than a fucking slut.” Jeno bites your earlobe, trailing one of his palms down the smooth expanse of your stomach to your clit. “Let me fuck her ass first at least.”

“Huh? N-no—not there, I haven’t before.”

Jaemin’s tongue clicks, kissing the backs of his teeth and squinting his eyes as if to call your bluff. He reaches between your split ass, thumb pressing to your rim meeting tight resistance. “Fuck, she’s not lying.”

Jeno can feel a prickle of tears burning at the backs of his eyes, his sack drawn up tight and heavy from being edged this long. “I can’t anymore!” He really can’t, he’s been hard since you mimicked the forgettable skanks that pass in and out of his bedroom. None of them would ever match up to you, only confirmed as his hips lift up and the tip of his cock struggles to penetrate past your wet tight circle of muscle. That doesn’t stop him from using his hold around your waist to his advantage, gliding you down his length with ease the more pilant you turn in his arms.

“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk.” He thinks he might cum from this alone. Pussy walls too smooth around his size, sucking along each pulsing vein as he inches in until he meets resistance and has to bite down on your shoulder to stop himself from screaming out.

“Greedy motherfucker.” Jaemin mutters, pushing the backs of your knees up higher until you’re pretzeled between the large sculpted bodies of your step-brothers, the same two whose names you’ve cried into your pillow with your hand down your pajama pants many nights.

Jeno rips a fresh batch of tears out of you, the stretch of his cock bordering painful if not for how obscenely wet you are, but the moans singing from deep within your chest are short lived; cut off by a thick prod at the top of your entrance right above the length already filling you up.

“I’ll fuck your ass next time.” Jaemin groans, shoving his cock in against the push he’s met with between your tight hole and his brother’s unrelenting thrusts. “That’s it, taking both of our dicks baby? So easily too? Who knew my baby sister was such a fucking slut.”

“N-no, not—a slut..” you wail, unable to handle how hard and big they both feel thrusting inside of you at different times. The friction cuts off your breath, sucking in your stomach to pull away from the fast unforgiving speed they both fuck into you. “S’too much! Too full!”

“Like that baby? So fucking full with both of us inside of you.” Jeno sounds strangled, pouring sweat the more he exerts himself to fuck into you faster and harder than Jaemin. He should have fucked you first to begin with. “Feel us both sliding into you? Taking two dicks like nothing, you know what that makes you?”

“A dirty fuck hole,” Jaemin says between clenched teeth, reaching for your neck to hold your head up and watch your eyes well up with tears, nodding and agreeing with everything they say just like the good little fuck toy you are, only for them.

“You can’t even wait for it, can you?” Jaemin manages to rasp out, throat locking up with each bury of his size engulfed in your tight heat. He grips your cheeks roughly with his palm cupping your chin. “What. A. Fucking. Whore..” He says it in a nasty tone on purpose to make your stomach turn, hitting deep inside with pointed demanding thrusts between each word. The shame of letting both your step-brothers fuck you is already enough to weigh 500 pounds of guilt down on your chest, but letting them both do it at the same time..

Everything crashes hard, unable to fall back or arch forward between their burly builds. Too overwhelmed, overheated and crazed with each sheathing thrust, your neck drops back gasping for air; weakly slapping Jaemin’s shoulders as tremors roll up from your toes to your shoulders and your eyes roll up. The squeeze around their lengths almost has them both slipping out as you cum and pour out more arousal around them, both using the extra glide to fuck you faster through your orgasm.

“I’m cl-close.” Jeno’s eyes practically match yours, wet from the maddening clamp around his throbbing member. “Can’t… fucking..” Pushing you forward against Jaemin’s chest he pulls out, pussy snapping around his cock noisily with gushing wetness following. It only takes one stroke to have him spilling out onto your ass with a chorus of curses and muffled shouts, slapping his length down on the rounded part of your butt to watch his cum dribble down between your ass faster. “Fuck me.”

He’d pass out clean if not for his brother pushing you right back to where you were against his chest, slamming his dick back into you without anything to hold him back anymore.

“Jaemin!” You scream, reaching for his shoulders to slow down the viscous grueling slap of skin colliding with skin, bounced up and down his length as if you weigh nothing to him.

“Fucking take it.” He growls, thrusts turning erratic as each vein lining his neck bursts out, skin pink and hot from driving all of his power into each ram of his hips. Each plunge of his size backed with intent to leave a mark. Stuttering forward, his head falls back releasing a long winded groan, chest rising against your face as his eyes roll up and he hits peak deep within you.

“Y-you—you came inside?” You ask, still coming down from your high, neck rolling against Jeno’s shoulder. “I-inside of me?”

Jaemin grunts, slamming in one final thrust with a pained expression, you just feel too good to stop. “You’re on the pill anyway, don’t be so dramatic.”

Jeno scoffs behind you, shoving between your bodies to push Jaemin’s weight off of you. “You’re such a dick.”

Jaemin smirks proudly, slowly drawing free from your wrecked cunt. “God baby, how am I supposed to stop now?” He lets out a deep breathy sigh, reaching between your tighs to circle your entrance for the rest of his cum to trickle out onto the floor and run down your ass. “Such a perfect pussy.”

“C-can’t— no more Jaem.” You mumble half-asleep, turning your face to burrow in Jeno’s neck. “Tired.”

“You heard her, Jeno.” Jaemin raises his full eyebrows up and down, sneaking his brother a knowing look. “She can’t handle me anymore.”

Jeno nods, dragging his lips down the side of your face to your mouth. “He’s right angel, how are we supposed to stop now?” With that he moves your hips back, lining his hardening length up with your gaped entrance. The space molded from your step-brother's combined cocks allows him to fully enter you with one hard thrust, cursing against the corner of your lips.

“Je-jeno—please..”

“Yeah, it’s all for you baby.” His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you down until you’re crushing his balls.

“Ca-can’t—“ the last thing you hear is Jaemin cooing on and on about how adorable you are, still squirting out a mess of arousal even as your eyes fall shut and Jeno continues to brutally snap his hips up.

“Didn’t she say something about a date tonight?” Jaemin’s voice comes through muffled, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since the three of you finished, judging from the burning crave for more between your thighs.

“Yeah, about that..” Jeno whispers, sounding more distant. “Think I heard her telling her friend she’s going out with that guy from Chicago, you know that big motherfucker down the street.”

“What??” Jaemin barks out much too loud, completely erasing the last bits of exhaustion away from your body. “He’s way too old for her!”

“I know. We can’t let her go, right?” Jeno sounds more stressed than his brother, mumbling like he’s chewing on one of his nails. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing she’s out there with him of all people. That guys a dick..”

“He has a huge dick too.” Jaemin retorts, clicking his tongue annoyed. “Why don’t we tell her he called and said he couldn’t make it tonight? Change of plans or something.” He nods to your phone, inching closer to sneak it away, pinching the device between his fingers.

“She’s going to hate us if she finds out.” Jeno snatches your phone from him, typing in the code he’s seen you punch in while peeping over your shoulder. “It’s for her own good.” He finds your chat with Johnny in an instance, scrolling through quickly and sending himself the different scandalous selfies you’ve messaged. “Little slut..”

“Send me those too.” Jaemin pipes in, nudging his brother's side. “We should wake her up, it’s getting chilly out here.”

“Can’t believe she knocked out like that, her friend even left already.”

“Mmmhhhmm.. Jeno..”

They come to a pause, locking your phone after successfully deleting your chat with Johnny and blocking his number. Jaemin mouths ‘wake her up’ to his brother, shoving his shoulder to move closer to you.

“Hey..” Jeno sits at the edge of the pool chair you’re laid out on, reaching to tap your arm. “You should wake up.”

“Few more minutes..” you grumble, slapping his hand away. Jeno coughs, grabbing both your shoulders to shake you awake.

“It’s been long enough, come on, time to wake up!”

“Wh—how long have I been asleep?” The sun’s still setting behind the expanse of Jeno and Jaemin’s broad frames, making your eyes squint shut as you sit up quickly and pat around. “What.. what are we doing out here?!?”

Jeno helps you sit up, patting your back. “Hopefully you don’t get sick from sleeping out here for so long, we thought you’d gone inside.” He leaves out the mention of your date, sneaking a look at his brother.

“Wha—“ a fast glance around clears up your confusion. You had fallen asleep in the backyard. “It was all a dream?!”

“What was?” Jaemin asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow at your frazzled response. “What was all a dream, huh?”

“I—uhm..” your step-brothers eye you quizzically, both intimidating as they stand above you waiting for an answer. “Nightmare! I mean, about the dog next door.” You scramble to get up, stumbling forward as you try to shove your feet into your sandals.

“Where are you running off to?” Jeno says, arm looping around your waist before your knees can meet pavement. “Can’t be that silly date, he called while you were knocked out to cancel anyway.”

You had dated fellow business major Wonwoo throughout university, but upon graduation, you’d followed your passion to the Big Apple, New York, intent on pursuing your dreams of selling real estate. He, in contrast, had stayed on the West Coast. It hadn’t been the best breakup, but you had both been young, and you weren’t going to let a man get in the way of your life goals.

Now here he is, at your Broker’s Open, looking even more handsome than the last time you saw him.

You’d heard he had come to town, seen his name pop up in listings connected to a new and growing real estate agency, and for a year, you’ve been waiting for an interaction like this. But now that you’re finally in the same room as your ex, you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours, and he flashes a grin, heading toward you through the crowd of agents.

“Long time no see,” your ex says, voice deeper than you remember.

He’s taller than he used to be too, and his shoulders have widened. His clothing has had a major upgrade, and the black duster he’s wearing draped over his pinstripe suit clad shoulders only accentuates how broad he’s become. Everything is well fitted, tailored even, and clearly expensive.

“Yes,” you force yourself to look away, too distracted by the sight of him to think coherently. “I see you finally made it to the big city.”

“And yet, no calls, no texts,” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “I know it’s been over five years, but it feels like we’re strangers now.”

“Well, I’m married to my work,” you state, looking at him again and appreciating the way his glasses complement his angular cheekbones, making him look even more regal and handsome. 

“So no time for social niceties,” Wonwoo grins.

God, he’s so sexy.

“Not unless you’re a buyer, a seller, a representative, or a prospective client.”

“I guess I’m in luck then, I represent a prospective buyer,” Wonwoo muses. “I ran over the comps, sent a video of this place to my client, and I think we might be able to make a deal here.”

“You have a buyer?” you ask in shock.

Wonwoo’s agency is still very young compared to the old money businesses that run New York. Your company, in contrast, is the number one selling agency in the whole city. The idea that Wonwoo could bring in a buyer at your calibre is unexpected, to say the least.

“I have a buyer,” Wonwoo confirms. Someone brushes by your back, and Wonwoo gently reaches out, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you closer and away from the people shuffling around behind you. 

“Then you need to put in an offer,” you tell him, swallowing the lump in your throat as your heart races in your chest.

Wonwoo leans even closer so you can hear him over the loud chatter of the crowd. “How about we grab some drinks when you finish up here, and run some numbers?” your ex asks smoothly.

“Strictly business?” you retort.

“And pleasure. I don’t see why we can’t mix the two, given our history.” 

Heat radiates through you, and it feels like there’s pressure on your chest. This man might look like your ex, but he’s changed in many ways since you last saw him. Aside from the physical growth, his personality has clearly shifted too. He’s a lot more flirty, and there’s an egotistical note in the way he holds himself now. 

This is no longer the nerdy gamer you dated in university, the nerdy gamer you broke up with in order to chase your dreams of money, fame, and comfort.

“We can grab drinks after this,” you confirm. “But your buyer better have a good number.”

“I wouldn’t insult you with any low balling, I know your reputation in this city.” Wonwoo releases your wrist. “I still have your number, I’ll text you the spot. Let’s say nine o’clock? You should be done by then.”

“That works,” you confirm.

“It was good to see you.” His hand finds your shoulder, and he gently brushes a piece of your hair away from your collarbone, making your skin tingle from the brief contact. With a final nod, your ex turns and wades into the crowd, leaving you breathless, confused, and too horny to admit.

Two:

You find Wonwoo at a booth in the back corner of a swanky bar in Mid-Town. He’s nursing an Old Fashioned cocktail, and when you sit down, you notice he’d ordered you a drink too. 

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Cocktail; fruity, and sweet, just how you like it,” Wonwoo grins teasingly. “Unless your tastes have changed?”

“We’re still talking about drinks here, right?” you question, feeling slightly uncomfortable already.

Your ex’s smile widens. “What else would we be talking about?”

Letting out a deep sigh, you push the drink to the side. “We should be talking business.”

“I’ve got two proposals for you,” Wonwoo says, leaning back against the booth and straightening his shoulders. 

“Two?” You cock a brow, curiousity getting the better of you.

“I think you should join SVT Co.” 

A laugh escapes you before you can even control yourself. “And why would I do that?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I think you’d be surprised by the new developments we’ve secured the rights to sell.”

“I’m at the top real estate company in New York, what do you think your CEO could offer me that I don’t already have?”

“The opportunity to grow with us, and outgrow the current restrictive company you’re currently working with. You know, be a big fish in a little pond, that sort of thing.”

You process his words, but find yourself shaking your head anyways. “Proposal two. Talk to me about your buyer.”

“He’s a family man from California, looking for a two bed, two bath in middle Manhattan. Your listing fit the bill, I gave him a tour on Facetime, talked comps and numbers. I told him you’re an amazing agent with many connections, and you’d likely already receive a bid or two at your open house, so I figured we should jump on this. We agreed on a number, and I’m ready to make the offer.”

“Tell me.”

“Asking is five million, considering the high floor, the views, and square footage price relative to the building, he and I came in at four point three, all cash, no contingencies, ready to close in ten days.” 

“That’s seven hundred thousand less than asking,” you retort, narrowing your eyes. “Is that the highest he will go?”

“How about you call your guy and we’ll play some ball.”

“And here I thought you said you wouldn’t low ball me,” you tisk, pulling out your phone. 

“All cash, no contingencies, ten day close, it sweetens the deal for the number. You want to get this done, don’t you? I know your seller does. The apartment already had a different listing agent for a six month contract and they couldn’t get a deal in, won’t it feel nice for everyone if you get this done on the day of your Broker’s Open?”

You glance at Wonwoo, shocked at how far he’s come since university. For him to talk big business with you like this… to bring you a client and help you both make commission… it’s a nice change, but an unexpected one.

You call the seller you’re representing, holding up a finger to Wonwoo, and relay the information. There’s a small back and forth, you mention a few offers you got at the Broker’s Open which were more around the four million range, and then you put yourself on mute, looking at your ex. “Four point five and we have a deal.”

“Let’s make this happen,” Wonwoo grins, pulling out his own phone to call the buyer.

You listen to the way he discusses things with his client, and you have to admit, Wonwoo has a way with words. He thanks his buyer and hangs up. “Four point five, all cash, no contingencies, ten day close. We have a deal.”

Wonwoo holds out a hand and you shake it, unable to contain the joy you’re feeling at getting this apartment sold so quickly, and the tingles you get from touching him only add to the sensation. “I’ll write up a contract and send it to you.”

Your ex is slow to release your hand, and he lets out a sigh. “I missed you.”

“What?”

“I missed you,” Wonwoo says again. “We broke up because you moved to New York, and now I’m here too. Why don’t we give this a try again?”

“Because things have changed!” you stammer.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo grins and sips his Old Fashioned. “Like what?”

“Well, I mean, for starters, you’re in an Armani suit.”

“You don’t like the suit?” His smile broadens.

“I love the suit, love the suit. But the Wonwoo that I used to know would never wear such high brand luxury. You’ve also clearly grown the balls and ego to match a man who wears Armani.”

Now your ex lets out a laugh, and you hate how beautiful he is. 

He opens his mouth to say something, and that’s when you hear someone call Wonwoo’s name.

You turn to find another well dressed man approaching from the bar seating area.

“I thought that was you!” The handsome man smiles.

“Dokyeom, this is y/n, y/n this is Dokyeom,” Wonwoo introduces you, letting out a sigh and reaching for his drink again. It’s clear to you he’s not very satisfied with being interrupted, but his friend seems to not notice, or perhaps ignore your ex’s annoyance.

“y/n as in real estate princess y/n?” Dokyeom gasps. “As in, fastest junior to senior agent in her company’s history?”

“That would be me,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Excuse me,” Wonwoo sighs, standing from the booth and allowing Dokyeom to take his spot.

“I’m guessing you work with Wonwoo at SVT co?” you ask, turning your attention to the bright, bubbly man.

“Beautiful and smart, a deadly combination,” Dokyeom beams. “Yes, I’ve been working with him for about a year now. I didn’t mean to interrupt, were you two doing business?”

“We just made a deal on a two bed two bath,” you nod.

“Congratulations!” Dokyeom is clearly an insanely happy and positive person, and it relaxes you a bit as you begin to talk to him. 

But conversation quickly moves in the same direction that your talk with Wonwoo had.

“You should really meet Choi Seungcheol, our CEO,” Dokyeom explains. “I think you would like him a lot.”

“I’m not sure I’m in the market to be poached,” you tease, sipping your drink.

Dokyeom lets out a laugh. “Okay, you got me.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “But… I have an open house this weekend you could come to, for business purposes.” He sends you a wink and it makes you chuckle.

You open your mouth to respond but at that moment, Wonwoo returns. “I have to go,” he says curtly. “An agent just got back to me about a twilight viewing, and tonight has pretty clear skies, so now is the time.”

“I understand,” you nod.

Wonwoo pauses for a few seconds, and you’re not sure if he expects you to stand and give him a hug, or if he’s unsure about leaving you with his friend, regardless, he hesitates, and the tension is thick.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Wonwoo says finally.

“I’m sure you will, and I’ll get the contract to you by midnight.”

Your ex nods, and then, without another word, he leaves.

When he’s out of earshot, Dokyeom lets out a whistle. “So he really wasn’t lying that you two have history.”

“He told you about that?” you ask in shock.

“Not in detail, Wonwoo’s not the talkative type, but he mentioned you know each other, and I guess I put two and two together.” 

“It was a long time ago,” you state, grabbing your purse and finishing your drink. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you.”

“Here.” Dokyeom pulls out a card, writing a few details on the back of it. “This is my information, and I wrote the details for the open house I’m throwing, I hope you can make it.”

“We’ll see.” 

Three:

You’re not here to be poached… you’re just at Dokyeom’s open house to view it for clients. Definitely.

And you didn’t dress up extremely well to dazzle Wonwoo or anything, that would be ludicrous. No, you’re dressed nice because this is your job. A hundred and ten percent.

You’re in the kitchen when Dokyeom comes scurrying over, a huge grin on his face. “You came!”

“I’ve got a buyer looking for something like this,” you tell him, trying to remain nonchalant.

“I’ll give you a tour.” 

As he begins his tour, he stops at certain sections of the penthouse to point people out to you.

There’s Seungcheol, the extremely handsome yet stern looking CEO with his assistant, Dino, glued to his side. Jeonghan is a senior agent in a deep discussion with two juniors, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who seem to be at each other’s throats while the eldest watches with a grin. Jun and Minghao are speaking quickly in Chinese to a potential foreign buyer on FaceTime. Woozi and Mingyu are going over comps. Joshua and Vernon are on calls with LA connections.

It’s a lot of names, and too many handsome faces to count, but you can definitely say with certainty, SVT Co is a hotdog fest. A very, very sexy hotdog fest. 

You’re more interested in the men than the penthouse you’re here to view, which is something you realize abruptly as the tour comes to a close.

“You should talk to everyone when you get a chance,” Dokyeom smiles. “They will all love you.”

You let out an awkward laugh. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because you’re gorgeous, and a money maker. We all know your history, the new developments you’ve sold, the commercial spaces, the rentals. Name the niche and you’ve sold it.” Dokyeom’s grin widens. “At the end of the day, it all comes down to the same thing; money, honey. And you make money.” 

Your gaze shifts to the door to the penthouse, where Wonwoo has just arrived, and Dokyeom must sense the shift in your expression, because he follows your gaze.

“I guess working with an ex might be the only downside,” he confesses.

“It’s been years,” you say pointedly.

Wonwoo hasn’t only grabbed your attention, you notice the gorgeous man Dokyeom had pointed out as ‘Mingyu’ is approaching your ex.

They chat briefly, and then both of them look over to you. You almost fold under their dual gazes, your core throbbing uncomfortably at the attention.

“Here we go,” you sigh, body tensing with anticipation as both handsome men approach. 

“You must be y/n,” Mingyu smiles, holding out a hand. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you grin, enjoying the way his palm dwarfs your own.

“I see Dokyeom’s been showing you around, how do you like the place?” Mingyu asks, and you realize he’s just as easy going and prone to light conversation as Dokyeom is.

“I like it a lot, as far as new development penthouses go, I’ve seen better, but based on the price range it’s not bad.”

“Wow, someone is a hard sell,” Mingyu jokes. “Do you and your boyfriend live in something like this?”

You can’t help the laugh that billows out of you. Mingyu had attempted to be nonchalant, but you can see right through him, and it’s clear from the way Dokyeom snickers and Wonwoo coughs awkwardly that you’re not the only one who sees Mingyu’s info fishing for what it is.

“I’m single,” you confirm.

“Really?” Mingyu’s eyes widen. “Sorry, it’s just, you’re a powerhouse in the industry and you’re absolutely gorgeous. I would have thought you’d deal with a lot of rich, powerful clients trying to use having you as an agent to get you out for a drink.”

“I’m sure we’ve all had to fight off those kinds of buyers,” you tease, knowing that with Mingyu’s face, he’s no doubt something like catnip to divorced milf’s looking for a pleasurable way to spend their settlements. 

Mingyu opens his mouth to say something but Wonwoo lightly grabs your forearm. “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

The atmosphere immediately shifts, and once again, tension floods between you and your ex.

“Of course.” You gently pull yourself out of Wonwoo’s grasp.

“Follow me,” he instructs.

Wonwoo leads you up the stairs to the second level, taking you to the guest bedroom and into the ensuite, which you think is a little extreme, but he had wanted privacy so you guess him locking the door behind you isn’t fully out of bounds.

“Are you-” you begin to ask, but suddenly Wonwoo pushes you up against the wall, boxing you in with his hands on either side of your head, “Jealous?” the word slips out breathlessly. 

Wonwoo scoffs, shaking his head. Then he releases a deep sigh. “When Dokyeom invited you to this, I didn’t think you’d take it as an opportunity to hit on my coworkers.”

“Are you sure I was the one doing the flirting?” you counter. “Mingyu came onto me.”

“And you lapped up the attention.”

“I hate to remind you of this, but I’m single. We aren’t together anymore Wonwoo, so I can do what I want.” 

He stares at you, and your skin prickles with the realization of how close he is to you. God, he’s so beautiful, and your heart melts while you look at him.

Wonwoo was never a jealous man, but when you were dating, you never gave him a reason to be.

“So you want to fuck Mingyu then?” he asks.

With the ego has come vulgarity, and you scoff loudly at his words. “No, I don’t want to fuck Mingyu.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“I think you need new glasses.”

The side of his mouth quirks up in a half smirk as he lets out a small chuckle. “Are you having fun toying with me, honey?”

“If I was toying with you, you’d know it,” you retort, confidence surging through you. “For example, I’d do this.” You hook your fingers in his belt, pulling him even closer.

Wonwoo releases a deep groan, his lips just inches from your own.

You stare at each other, fighting your pride over which one of you will finally close the distance between your mouths-

A knock on the door startles you, and Wonwoo pulls away. “We’ll have to finish this another time,” he says curtly. “This is an open house, and we’re both professionals.”

“Yes,” you swallow thickly, fixing your dress and willing your thundering heart to relax. “We are.”

Four:

After your run in with Wonwoo, Seungcheol had caught you on your way out of the open house. He’d asked if you would have time to meet him for a drink, so here you are, getting dolled up to go meet the CEO of SVT co for what you can only imagine will be a business proposal.

He’s asked you to meet at a new development, one of the largest new buildings going up in New York. As far as you know, it’s almost complete, and there has been much discussion within agency circles about who convinced the developer to take on the project.

When you arrive and find Seungcheol waiting for you outside the building, you’re pretty sure you know who landed the deal.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asks, pulling you in for a hug.

God, he’s beefy and smells expensive, but you push the thought from your head as he welcomes you into the new building while you chat pleasantries.

“I think congratulations are in order,” you muse as he guides you to the elevator.

“Maybe numerous congratulations if we both play our cards right,” he smiles.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you reach the penthouse, and your breath catches as you enter. Much of the interior is done, but there’s been no staging yet, other than all the fixtures, the only out of place thing in the penthouse is a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the kitchen counter.

“So, there are four penthouses in all,” Seungcheol explains as he starts to give you a tour, explaining comps, pricing, developer expectations and how ‘this marble was imported from Italy’ and ‘these appliances are top line French,’ and you kind of enjoy how grandiose he is.

“So give me your proposal,” you suggest with a smile when the tour finishes back in the kitchen. 

Seungcheol laughs. “You’re straight to the point, I like that.”

He begins to work on the champagne.

“Usually I’d open this after doing a deal, but I think the tour merits a drink,” Seungcheol muses. 

“I bet you think it will help butter me up too.”

“Maybe.” He’s so extremely handsome when he smiles, and he pours you a glass of champagne. “So here’s the deal. I want you on my team. Your reputation speaks for itself.”

“Don’t tell me you’re offering me the penthouses.”

“I’m offering you the penthouses,” he confirms. “If you join SVT Co, I will name you manager of getting these units sold. I’ll give you your own team, help with marketing, you name it, I’ll give it to you. The developer wants these sold at around two hundred million a pop, and if you get these sold, it’s enough commission to retire the next day if you wanted to, but something tells me you’re in this game for the long run.”

“You’d be correct about that,” you smirk as you take a sip from your glass.

“When you join SVT Co, you’ll be in charge of everything it takes to get these sold. You represent the developer, and you’ll need to find buyers, but with a building of this calibre, buyers will come to you. So sure, it will be work, but think of it as a signing bonus.”

“I’m intrigued,” you confess. “Won’t your employees be mad you’re bringing a new agent in and giving her the listing of the year?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “I want to grow, and I love my agents, they’re wonderful, but sometimes it takes new blood to get things going into motion.”

“I’ll consider your offer.”

“You’ve got fourty-eight hours to consider it,” Seungcheol tells you, gently clinking his glass against your own.

You’re giddy with the possibilities of taking on this job, and Seungcheol lets you stay to look over the place as he goes to a meeting. You’re checking out the master suite when your phone rings, and you see Wonwoo’s caller ID.

“He offered you the penthouses, didn’t he?”

“No hello, how are you doing? Straight to questions, huh?” you laugh.

“I have Seungcheol’s location, I figured there was only one reason for him to go to the penthouses this late, and I noticed he pulled you aside before you left the open house, it didn’t take much to figure out what was going on,” Wonwoo says smoothly.

“You’re quite the little stalker, aren’t you, Wonwoo?”

“So shoot me, I’m curious.” You hear Wonwoo let out a breath. “Did you accept?”

“I’m thinking about it,” you muse, walking over to the windows to look out at the view of New York.

“Looks like maybe we’ll be working together after all.”

“Would you want me to come work with you?” you question. “You were pretty pissed at the open house when your coworkers were hitting on me.”

“They won’t hit on you anymore.”

“Why not?” you grin.

“Because you’re mine.”

“Really? I don’t remember signing over my rights in the contract I sent over for the apartment.”

“You’re mine because I’m yours, and inequity isn’t in my wheelhouse.”

You can hear him smiling on the other end of the line, and it intrigues you. 

“Listen, the reason we broke up was distance,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I came here, to New York, to be close to you again. We could be a powerhouse together. We’ve already done one deal, if you come to SVT Co and we continue to double end things…”

He trails off, but you’re on the same page. The money you could bring in would be huge.

“I’ll tell you what I told Seungcheol,” you say finally. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Well, I’ll send you my address if you end up deciding, but I assume Seungcheol gave you a time frame to respond, and I’ll give you the same countdown.”

“Fourty-eight hours it is,” you muse. 

“Honey?”

“Yeah?” You hold your breath.

“I look forward to hearing from you.”

Five:

Money and prospects make you horny, so here you are, in bed, your vibrator in your hand as you think about Wonwoo and the future.

Sure, his coworkers and boss are very hot too, but you still have a soft spot for Wonwoo. He was right when he said your breakup was due to distance, but before that, your relationship had been a dream.

You were young then, still in school, nearly broke- but you’ve both grown up since then. 

You start to think about Wonwoo in his suits, and you wonder what he looks like with his shirt off now. You press the vibrator harder against your clit, groaning as you consider what his hands will feel like against your body.

He’s gotten more dominant since you were in university, that much is clear. How will that dominance come out in the bedroom?

You rub the toy against your core, but your body isn’t reacting how it normally does. Part of you knows you have access to Wonwoo, that you could call him right now and experience the real thing instead of day dreaming about it, and the thought of real life sex with your ex makes your imagination seem pale in comparison.

With a groan, you sit up, and within fifteen minutes, you’re dressed and getting in an Uber to go to Wonwoo’s apartment.

It takes a bit of courage to ring the dial pad up to him, but a quick “Hey, it’s me” prompts him to hit the buzzer to let you in.

Your heart is racing in the elevator, your palms getting sweaty, and you adjust your dress, making sure your breasts are pushed up. Not that you think you’ll have to entice him like this, but it’s kind of fun to get dressed up to go seduce your ex boyfriend.

He opens the door to his apartment before you even have to knock, and he leans on the frame, grinning while his eyes look you up and down.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi yourself,” you grin. “Are you going to let me in, or what?”

Wonwoo steps back and waves a hand.

He’s still in work attire, but a more laid back version, just navy blue dress pants and a white buttonup. He’s also without his signature glasses, and without the frames to accentuate his cheekbones, he looks softer. Something about the casual yet sophisticated look makes you feel like drooling as you enter the nice apartment.

“Twenty-four hours,” Wonwoo muses as he closes the door behind you. “I figured you’d take the full fourty-eight to make a decision.”

“I’ve been given two proposals. Join SVT Co, and get back together with you. Who’s to say I’m here to confirm both? What If I’m here to say yes to one and no to the other?” you counter.

“I say,” Wonwoo grins. “I say you’re here to confirm both.” 

You set your things down on a chair in the kitchen, removing your jacket and turning to look at Wonwoo who eats you up with his eyes again.

“Or maybe I’m here to rub it in that I’m going to decline both offers,” you smirk. 

“Perhaps, but if that were the case, you wouldn’t be giving me your ‘come fuck me’ eyes.” He crosses his arms over his chest and you note his forearms, which are visible with his rolled up sleeves. God, he’s definitely been working out at the gym.

“I don’t have ‘come fuck me’ eyes,” you laugh, but your skin prickles with embarassment.

“No?” Wonwoo walks closer to you, and you back up, allowing him to box you in against the counter with his hands now flat on the tables edge on either side of you.

“No,” you state, but there’s little conviction in your tone.

“The other day, you said I grew some balls and an ego to match,” Wonwoo muses, moving even closer so you can feel his breath against your face. “At least I’m ballsy enough to admit I want you back. Are you too proud to admit you feel the same way?” A grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you. “Or do you just lack balls?”

You can’t hold yourself back anymore, you grab your face and smash your mouth to his. He kisses you back desperately, his hands finding your hips as he tugs your body flush to his own.

The two of you know each other, and sure, years have passed and things have changed, but he kisses you with just as much fiery desire as he always has, and you move in tandem.

Both of you groan, and Wonwoo’s hands slip down to your ass. He lifts you up, setting you on the kitchen counter. Your thighs spread to welcome him in, your tight dress hiking all the way up to expose your pantie clad core to the man that begins to grind against you while you make out.

Your heart is racing faster than it has in years, and you break the kiss to breathe while Wonwoo’s lips move to your throat. He licks and sucks on your skin, making you shiver with pleasure, and one of his hands slips between your bodies, finding your pussy.

He rubs your clit through your panties and you moan desperately, clinging to his broad shoulders.

“I missed your sounds,” Wonwoo groans in your ear, prompting you to also shove a hand between your bodies so you can cup his hard cock. Now it’s his turn to make a noise of pleasure, and the sound makes you practically vibrate.

“I missed yours too,” you tell him, wiggling your hips to get more stimulus on your clit.

“Fuck this,” Wonwoo cusses, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the kitchen counter. You marvel at his strength, and you cling to him as he carries you to his bedroom where he tosses you onto the bed.

He looks down at you, at your exposed thighs, at the dress scrunched up by your hips. 

“I’ve thought about this,” Wonwoo admits, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “About what it would be like when I got to have you again.”

“And?” you grin.

“You look even better than I imagined.”

“I’ll feel better too,” you tease, eyes dipping to his torso as he shrugs off his buttonup. “We’ve both grown, in more ways than one.”

“You can say that again. You never used to be the girl who liked tight dresses, push up bras, and thongs.”

“And you were never the man in a suit pursuing a largely social profession,” you counter.

Wonwoo chuckles, and he joins you on the bed, closing you in as you grab him by the back of his neck and draw his lips to yours again. Your hands quickly begin to explore, tracing each new bulging muscle into your memory.

The kiss becomes heated extremely quickly, and Wonwoo pulls back, both of you breathing hard. He grabs the bottom of your dress and gingerly begins to pull it up and over your head. Both of you wear expensive clothing now, so there’s no tearing or rough tugging, and when he throws it, he aims for the armchair next to the bed.

Then he returns his lips to yours, and you thread your fingers in his hair, tugging gently.

Wonwoo lets out a deep groan, his mouth moving to your throat, and then down to your cleavage. He reaches under you, undoing the clasp of your bra with one hand, and then that too is removed.

Your nipples pebble to the cool air of his apartment, but his hot mouth finds one a moment later, and you both groan deeply.

No man has ever been as into body worship as Wonwoo was when you were together, and you give yourself over to the way he takes his time with you. He massages your neglected breast with a large, warm hand, his thumb teasing the sensitive bud while his mouth continues on the other.

You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you can’t help but wriggle your hips, a silent plea for him to continue the descent that you know is coming.

Wonwoo laughs, pulling away from your breasts to look up at you. “Someone is eager.”

“I need you,” you whimper. 

“I’ve waited years to hear you say that again,” Wonwoo groans with pleasure, kissing down your body until he reaches the waistband of your thong. He gingerly tugs it off of you, sinking to the foot of the bed, his knees on the floor as he drags you to the edge.

You’re fully naked now, and it feels so natural to be nude with Wonwoo.

There’s no anxiety, no hesitation, only lust and anticipation.

He slowly kisses up  your thigh, spreading your legs with his large hands. When he reaches your core, he looks up at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and then, he dives in.

He holds nothing back, lapping and sucking at your pussy with the appetite of a starved man. 

You can’t help the whimpers and moans that immediately escape you, your hands reaching down so you can tangle your fingers in his hair, keeping him locked to your core.

For every man you’ve ever met, you’d go so far as to say you prefer vibrators to a mouth on your clit, but fuck, Wonwoo knows what he’s doing. It’s as if he only ate you out yesterday, and he maneuvers your body like an expert, knowing exactly what you like. You suppose your sexual tastes haven’t changed in the years since you were with him, and the fact that he remembers your preferences makes your stomach twist into pleasurable knots.

He sucks on your clit while you moan and writhe, and soon, he’s groaning too. Ever the giver, Wonwoo receives pleasure when he’s making you feel good, and that only turns you on more.

Soon, you’re close to the edge, and you’re shocked at how easy it is to fall back into this familiar pace with Wonwoo.

“I’m close!” you warn him, tugging harder on his hair and earning more groans of pleasure, the vibrations stimulating your clit even more.

He sucks roughly on your clit, and your thighs twitch, muscles pulling tight before the release that comes just seconds later.

You gasp loudly, your thighs closing around his head, toes curling as waves of pleasure surge through you like electric heat.

Wonwoo doesn’t let up, and your legs tightening around his skull don’t dissuade him either, he works you through your orgasm to the point of overstimulation, until you’re nearly shaking, your moans loud enough to wake the neighbours, then he pulls back.

You’re both breathing heavily, and you slump down against the bed, heart racing as you try to collect yourself.

You watch as Wonwoo licks his lips clean, and then he stands, slowly working on his pants and giving you time to recuperate.

In a moment, he’s as naked as you are, and you realize his shoulders and arms aren’t the only thing that’s grown. Somehow, his cock has even gotten bigger, and your core twitches with desperation.

“Move up by the pillows, honey,” Wonwoo prompts, and you do as you’re told, wiggling up so you’re more comfortably resting in the centre of the bed.

Wonwoo gets on top of you, and your legs wrap around him, your hands once more drawing his lips to yours.

There’s something sinful but sexy about the taste of your pussy on his lips as he kisses you, and he pushes his thigh up toward your core so you can rub against him.

You moan desperately against his mouth, tugging on his hair and earning moans from him too.

You rub on him until he removes his thigh, replacing it with his hand, and two long fingers easily slip into your soaked hole, making you whimper.

“I missed making you cum,” Wonwoo growls, his lips moving to your throat. “Missed your sounds, and the way your pussy clenches around me. Missed the insatiable way you wiggle, how needy you are to cum.”

You can’t even find the words to respond, all you can do is grab at him and moan, mind and body both pleasantly overwhelmed by him.

He crooks his fingers up toward your g-spot and you choke on your own sounds, core clamping down on his digits.

“This is still the spot, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles. “We haven’t changed that much, have we?”

He strokes the spot repeatedly while sucking on your throat, and he grinds his palm against your clit, creating the perfect frenzy of pleasure that has you gasping and writhing beneath him again in record time.

“You’ll cum for me again, right, honey?” Wonwoo asks. “I won’t fuck you until you do.”

“I’m close,” you confess, grabbing his bicep and squeezing, loving the way his muscles bulge.

“That’s my girl.” 

Your body shivers at his words, and you love the way he’s claimed you. If it was anyone else speaking to you like this, you might get mad. You’ve created a reputation as a force to be reckoned with, as a businesswoman who bows for no man- but perhaps, you can bow for your ex. For your first love. Who has done so much to come back into your life, to chase you to the big city to pursue a relationship that only ended because your goals had outgrown the town where you had fallen in love.

He continues to finger fuck you, perfectly stimulating your g-spot and your clit, and soon, you’re tipping over the edge again, your pussy squelching with wet pleasure as ecstasy rocks through you. 

You grip him tightly like an anchor while your body flutters and contracts, mind numb except for the pleasure Wonwoo can uniquely provide for you.

“That’s it,” he coos, kissing your throat and making you shiver.

He works you through your second orgasm, and like the first, he’s an expert of knowing when it’s about to become pained pleasure, when he’s crossing the boarder into overstimulation, and at that point, he retreats.

Wonwoo sits up, licking his fingers clean with a groan and giving you time to recuperate. 

“You’re still on birth control?” he asks.

“Yes, and STI free.”

He lets out a chuckle. “Me too.”

“Then fuck me.”

“I’m getting to it,” he grins. 

You love how playful this is, as if no time at all has passed since you last slept together.

He slots between your thighs again, and you welcome him into a heated kiss while he grabs the base of his cock, lining up his tip with your wet, awaiting core.

He pushes into you easily, not wasting a moment, his full cock entering you until his hips are flush with your own.

You groan desperately into the kiss, your pussy clamping down like a vice on his cock. 

“Feels good?” he asks.

“Feels amazing,” you confirm. 

He grins when he presses his lips to yours again, and he slowly begins to thrust. You whimper with each bottom out, loving how thick and long he is, filling you up exactly right.

Wonwoo laces his fingers with yours, drawing your hand above your head, where he locks it in place, keeping you partly imobalized as he fucks you. You love that he has the power, love that even while being more dominant, he’s still as soft as he’s ever been.

Wonwoo is, without fault, a lover who leans on the gentle side. He praises, never degrades. He checks in on you, and knows your limits.

For so long, you suppressed the love you felt for Wonwoo, but it’s as if the floodgates have opened, and all of those memories and feelings come rushing back in, washing you with a warm feeling that is blooming deep in your abdomen after being neglected for so long.

His pace increases, and he squeezes your hand, betraying how much he’s needed this too.

But then he pulls back, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. He gently adjusts your thigh on his hip, lifting it so he can drape your leg against his shoulder. He kisses your calf and repeats the motion on the other side, then leans over you again, folding you in half.

Now, his cock reaches even deeper, spreading you open deliciously. 

You whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets to ground yourself as he slowly fucks into you, making sure he hits your deepest spots with every thrust.

“Fuck, Wonwoo!” you groan.

“You look so good like this, honey,” he tells you. “Taking me so well.”

Your core pulses around him again, body reacting to the praise.

“Fuck,” he cusses, fucking you even harder. 

Mating press isn’t a position you have had much experience with, but God does it feel good.

The deep angle, the closeness-

Your entire body is starting to feel electrically charged again, the knots twisting in your stomach.

“You close again, honey?” he chuckles.

“It just feels so good,” you whimper desperately.

“Well, how about this, you cum, and I’ll cum with you.”

With a shaky nod, you adjust slightly, reaching between your bodies so you can rub your clit.

The first contact makes you throw your head back, eyes clenching shut from the stimulus, core throbbing around Wonwoo again, who lets out a deep moan.

“Just like that,” he tells you. “Keep doing that.”

You rub your clit even harder, loud whimpers and whines escaping you now. Each second is a step closer to the edge, for both of you, and you give yourself to the oncoming pleasure.

Despite being mentally prepared for your orgasm, it still rocks you to the core when it hits, and it’s the most intense of all three highs you’ve experienced tonight.

Your thighs shake, your heart thundering in your chest as your core contracts desperately around Wonwoo.

In a sudden movement, he releases your legs from your shoulders, returning to missionary so he can press his lips against yours, muffling your sounds as he explodes inside of you.

You thread your fingers through his hair, desperately clutching at him as you ride out your orgasms together, completely enraptured in the pleasure you both give each other.

You’re not sure how long you cum for, but even when you’re finished, you’re still passionately kissing Wonwoo, and neither of you pull away. You continue to make out even as your heart rate lessens, and your core stops throbbing, and something about that feels so right.

Wonwoo is the one to finally break the kiss, groaning and burying his face against your throat.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you too,” you tell him, stroking his back as you fight back tears.

You’ve never been one to be emotional after an orgasm, but with Wonwoo, the feelings come strong and naturally. You’re unable to fight it as your body betrays the need you’d tried for so long to suppress. 

“I knew we’d get back together,” he muses.

“Oh?”

“The tension between us when we met again after all these years… I knew you still loved me, and if it makes you feel better, I never stopped loving you either.”

You let his words sink in as you stroke his shoulders, holding him tightly with a grip on his hips that is unrelenting.

Wonwoo pulls away from your neck, looking down at you with a smile. “Also, don’t get mad.”

“What?” you freeze.

“I may have accidentally marked your neck.”

“What?”

“A hickey.” His fingers gently brush the spot he’d been sucking on earlier. “Oops.”

If it were from any other person, a hickey would have sent you off the handle, but you can’t even bring yourself to be mad at Wonwoo, and soon, you find yourself giggling. “I guess we haven’t grown that much since University if you’re still giving me hickies,” you tease.

“Maybe not,” he concedes, stroking your face lovingly.

“I’ll call Seungcheol tomorrow and accept the job.”

“You can’t seriously be thinking about my boss at a time like this,” Wonwoo laughs.

“I’m not. I’m thinking about our future together,” you chuckle.

“I guess that’s not so bad.” Wonwoo presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Not so bad at all.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I hope the real estate lingo was easy enough to follow :)

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🔮 preview. Wonwoo’s coworkers still flirt with you playfully, but it’s only to ever earn a reaction out of your generally stoic boyfriend. You and real estate are the only two things he is possessive of, and your boyfriend is quick to wrap his own arm around your waist and tug you away from his friend.

cw/ tw.Unprotected sex, oral, blow job, hand job, masturbation, pussy eating, multiple sex positions, gentle spanking, slight manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, I petnames. (hers) honey.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 160

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve been with SVT Co for two years now, and the money and deals have been flowing as easily as ever. To congratulate the rise in the company’s status in New York, Seungcheol is throwing a huge party, so here you are, all dolled up with your sexy boyfriend on your arm as you bask in the glow that is pure success.

“Congratulations on that recent double-ended sale you two did,” Dokyeom grins, pulling you in for a hug before looking at Wonwoo. “Although he had the easy job since you brought him the buyer, I think.”

His coworkers love to tease him like this, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“When are you going to bring me a buyer?” Mingyu jokes, nudging your arm and shuffling closer to you.

“When you start taking interesting listings,” you fire back, gently elbowing him in the ribs.

Everyone laughs at the way Mingyu fakes pain from the gentle touch, and then his arm moves around your shoulders.

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Laying on his soft bed, his toned body is pressed up against your back. His lips are sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck as his large hand is massaging your breast, sending shivers down your spine. He runs his tongue along your skin, knowing exactly what to do to drive you wild. In all the time he’s been with you, he’s learned all the ways to turn you on with little to no effort.

Slowly, you roll your body back against his, earning a sinful moan from him. He rolls his hips against your butt as his length already starts to harden.

“Aren’t we supposed to be going to sleep?” you whisper. You know how this is going to end.

“I would rather do more than sleep,” he rasps, rolling his hips again.

“Jeonghan is going to come home any minute,” you moan as he gently nips at your skin.

“He knows you’re staying the night. He’ll knock before entering.” Jeonghan has a habit of bursting into Seungcheol’s room without asking.

His large hand grips your hip, pulling you closer to his hardened length. You’re not worried about Jeonghan seeing you, more so you’re worried he’ll hear. You and Seungcheol have an issue trying to stay quiet. More than once, Joshua and Jeonghan have complained about your noise level. It turns out, you’re so loud that Joshua had invested in noise-canceling headphones.

“You can’t promise that.” You wiggle your butt against him. You’re playing with fire right now. You know Seungcheol would have no problem having sex with you right now. The thought of Jeonghan accidentally walking in won’t stop him, or even the idea of one of his roommates hearing you.

Seungcheol used to get embarrassed when Jeonghan or Joshua would catch you making out on the living room couch, but you've been walked in on too many times to count. It's at the point where he literally doesn’t care. He’s not the type that wants to have sex out in the living room where his roommates could see, but if they’re stupid enough not to knock and barge into his room, he won’t get embarrassed. There have been a handful of times when Jeonghan has burst into the room and found you fully naked while your boyfriend fucked the living daylights out of you.

“I would prefer that Jeonghan doesn’t see me naked again,” you say, biting back a smile.

“You don’t have to be naked for us to have sex.” His lips brush your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You know if you say no right now he won’t push the issue anymore. The thing is, he’s got you so turned on at this point that you aren’t even sure if you care if Jeonghan walks in or hears you having sex.

“You win. But we have to stay under the covers, and we’re staying in this position.” You can’t help but smile. Having sex while spooning is one of your favorite positions. Seungcheol has not only a long cock, but it’s also thick. When he fucks you from behind, he’s able to hit places and make your brain turn to mush.

He wastes no time pulling off your underwear and pushing his boxers down his thick thighs. His hand reaches over you. His fingers start toying with your sensitive clit. Biting your lip, you try your hardest to hold back your moans.

“Is my baby trying to stay quiet?” He loves to tease you while having sex.

“Cheol—“ you quietly whimper.

“Baby, Shua is in his room. Are you scared he’ll hear you?” His fingers dip down and slowly start pumping in and out of you.

“Um—“

Pulling his finger from your core, he presses his lips to your shoulder. “Lift your leg a little for me baby.” Without a word, you follow his request. Slowly, he pushes in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. It doesn’t matter that you’ve done this over one hundred times; your body is never fully used to the sheer size of him.

Filled to the brim, his hand rests on your stomach. His lips are kissing anywhere they can reach. Your bottom lip is captured between your teeth.

“Let’s see how quiet you can be,” he teases.

He starts at a slow and deep pace. His hand has moved down so it rests on your mound. His fingers draw slow, lazy circles on your clit. It's clear he’s not trying to make this a quick romp. He intends on dragging this out for you.

One hand grips the sheets below you, while the other holds on to his arm. He’s hitting so deep you feel like you’re seeing stars. The room is filled with the soft sound of his hips hitting your butt and silent gasps. He moans softly in your ear.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to focus on staying silent.

His fingers playing with your clit pick up the pace. He’s trying to push you over the edge. Tilting your head to the side, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses. There is no way he’s not leaving behind marks.

Pushing your hips back, you try to meet his thrusts. Quiet gasps keep passing your lips. It’s taking everything in you not to whine and whimper loudly.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers against your ear.

“Fuck—“ you whisper.

“Come for me, baby.” A tidal wave washes over you. Squeezing your eyes closed, you whisper his name like a sinful prayer.

His large hands grab your hips, holding you still. His thrusts become firm as you ride out your high. The low groans passing his lips let you know he’s on the edge of the cliff.

As your high fades away, you focus on helping him find his release by squeezing your walls around him.

“Baby—“ His grip on your hips tightens and he moans your name in your ear. He paints your walls with his milky release.

He’s snug inside you for a long moment before he pulls out. He crawls off the bed and you lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He helps clean up his sticky cum that’s already starting to leak out.

He sits next to you, smiling gently while rubbing your thigh. “Just so you know, Shua isn’t home and Jeonghan is on a date with his friend he’s in love with. We have the place to ourselves.” Your smile drops at the fact that this man made you believe you had to be quiet so roommates didn’t hear you.

“You asshole—,“ you scream at him.

“But you were so good, baby. Nice and quiet.”

He’s wearing a cocky grin, and even though you want to be mad at him, you can’t deny that this was a fun game.

“So?” you sigh.

“So… everyone knows Wonwoo has that new girlfriend! I would bet my scholarship that Wonwoo is No Face, and he and his girlfriend are into some weird in front of camera and behind the camera masturbation type of shit.” 

“If they are, that’s their own business,” you shrug. 

“I wonder how much money they make,” Kelly frowns. “Like… No Face is huge- I wonder if he makes like… thousands every month.”

Now your friend's words draw your attention. It’s one of those weird things, you’re aware of camboys and camgirls, aware of the porn industry and everything, of OnlyFans- but with so many easily accessible free porn sites, you’d forgotten that a lot of content creator’s have switched to behind paywall options in order to make actual income on their work.

“I heard he’s making over ten thousand a month,” another sorority sister pipes in. “There are rumours that Sigma Veta Tau’s frat president, you know, the business major one, supports the whole thing and helps with marketing and style and all sorts of stuff so that it’s more profitable.”

Your skin is prickling now… ten thousand a month? Just for… diddling yourself on camera? Wearing a mask would make you anonymous, and as a female, if you did a wig, it would be even better…

You shake your head at yourself, you can’t actually be considering this… can you? 

One:

It’s been about six months since you started camgirling, and it’s going alright. It had been a definite learning curve, as you don’t have some business major to talk you through the ropes, and unlike No Face, you didn’t start with a preexisting following from being a gaming streamer- no, it’s slow going, but sometimes with things like this, it just is what it is.

Being an anonymous camgirl doesn’t stop you from having fun though, and tonight, you’re with Kelly at a Sigma Veta Tau frat party. 

There had been talk about frat president Choi Seungcheol being a mastermind behind the possible camboy ring in this frat, notably No Face being the most famous, but you push that aside. You’ve been into Seungcheol since you first saw him, and, expertise or not, you’d do anything for a chance with him.

The two of you know each other in passing; you’re both in the ‘Greek system’ after all, so when you get to the party, you zero in on Cheol by the beer pong table.

He looks up as you approach, a smirk working its way onto his mouth. 

You’ve had near misses with this man, misses that you’ve since dwelled on incessantly.

There had been that time your sorority and his fraternity were doing a bake sale together, and the two of you had been stuck at the booth all day due to scheduling conflicts with other volunteers. The booth had been small, and there had been numerous moments of contact, you trailing your hand along his shoulders as you moved behind him to grab cupcakes, his hands on your hips to gently guide you out of his way so he could access the cash box-

Christmas had been interesting, with the two of you stuck under the mistletoe only to be interrupted by first-year Dino, who had come to warn Seungcheol that Hoshi and Seokmin had spiked the punch with LSD by accident- how had it been an accident, you might ask? Well, the jury is still out on that one.

Seungcheol is definitely your ‘maybe’ man, the man you maybe will kiss, the man you maybe will fuck, the man you maybe will fall for… if the situation allows it. 

“How are you doing?” Seungcheol says, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in.

It’s a forward approach, but you don’t mind as you snuggle up to the big, muscular frat boy. 

“Doing good, you?” 

“Been drinking,” he notes, holding up his red solo cup for you. “Promise there’s no LSD in this one.”

You laugh, accepting the liquor. It’s a mixed drink, something strong, and now you know why Seungcheol is so relaxed. This is pure giggle juice, and if you’d had a whole cup of this, you’d be just as forward with Seungcheol as he’s being with you right now.

“What did you put in this?” you ask.

“I don’t know, Dino made it.” 

Sometimes you forget that Seungcheol is one of the older men here, and he’s the president, so he has a whole house of dudes ready to do anything he asks. It’s funny how often he picks on Dino, but at the same time, you know Seungcheol loves the kid and sees him like a little brother.

“Are you sure there’s no LSD in this, then?” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles. “Dino’s more of a weed guy, and Vernon only sells the flower shit, which would be hard to hide in a drink, so you don’t have to worry.”

You love the inner workings of this community. Hoshi and Seokmin are the trouble makers with a thing for getting too messed up on alcohol or anything they can get their hands on. Seungkwan, their bitchy mother figure/younger cohort who always runs around with them, or with Vernon - the resident weed seller - even though Seungkwan is a total musical theater kid and hasn’t touched any drug in his entire life.

Then you have the likes of Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol, three of the older members, the business majors. Woozi and Wonwoo are more on the quiet end of the spectrum, avoiding parties. There are Jun and Minghao, who can have a crazy streak, but also prefer to seclude together rather than come to big gatherings. Mingyu and Dino are both just puppies, and they’re constantly running around and getting into trouble.

No, you love this frat, and regardless of the camboy rumours, you’re happy that they’re the brother frat to your sorority. 

You continue to sip on the drink, standing with Seungcheol while you watch Seokmin and Hoshi versus Jeonghan and Joshua in beer pong. It’s a riveting game, with all sorts of fake-outs, crying, screaming- Hoshi pretending to sip his drink, then doing a trick shot that fails, only for him to sprawl onto the floor in disappointment. Seokmin laughing at his teammate’s antics can probably be heard over the music throughout the whole house.

Jeonghan and Joshua end up winning, and the ‘evil twins’ - as some call them - celebrate accordingly with shots.

Seungcheol can only laugh, turning to look at you. “How’s that drink working out?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, mister Choi?”

“Just a little tipsy, not drunk,” he smirks.

“And why would you want me to be tipsy?”

“So you’ll dance with me,” he admits, and for the first time, he actually looks kind of shy. This big, beefy, muscle-head businessman who always fills out his suits - or his blue jeans - is shy about asking you to dance… You couldn’t be more into him than you are in this moment.

“Cheol, you need to be more confident,” you tell him, grabbing his hand to lead him onto the dance floor.

“I am confident,” he argues. 

“Yeah? I don’t believe you.”

Seungcheol swallows thickly, and then he grabs the back of your neck. He tugs you to his chest, closing the distance between your mouths. You kiss him back eagerly, latching onto his plain white t-shirt as your tongues begin to clash deliciously. 

Seungcheol groans, his hand slipping from the small of your back to your ass, and you realize that maybe this man wasn’t being shy at all, maybe he just wanted your first kiss to feel right. After all, there have been so many near misses-

No, this is perfect, and you get lost in the taste of Seungcheol as he kisses you on the dance floor.

You don’t feel exposed even though you’re in a crowd like this- you know no one is paying attention to you, and you also know you’re not the only couple making out on the dance floor right now.

Your heart is racing when Seungcheol finally pulls away, and he looks down at you with a grin.

“My room?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you off the dance floor.

Your heart is still thundering as you follow him. He takes you up two flights of stairs, all the way to his back corner room. 

Lots of frat boys have double rooms that they share with others, but there’s a select handful that have solo lodging like Cheol’s.

You’ve never actually been in his room before- most of the frat boys keep their doors locked, and you’re shocked at the neon blue hue created by many panels of mood lighting along the walls. There’s a massive gaming station in the corner, a desk, a big bed- it looks like a room that suits Seungcheol, but there’s something about the aesthetic that’s throwing you off.

The neon blues are No Face’s colours- but you know Cheol is not No Face, he’s much too big to be the lean, thick anonymous gamer turned OnlyFans celebrity. 

“You good?” Seungcheol asks, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah, just never been in here before,” you lie, shaking your head as you grab Seungcheol again, pressing your lips to his desperately. 

He wraps you up in his large arms, leading you over to the bed. You fall onto the mattress as gracefully as gravity allows, looking up at Seungcheol.

His expression is one of complete lust, you can tell you’ve both been waiting for this for a while.

“Here,” you offer, undoing your jeans and lifting your hips so you can shimmy out of them.

He immediately grabs at the fabric, helping you tug it off. Next is your shirt, and you remove that too-

Then you notice Seungcheol staring at you, but his expression has shifted to one of confusion.

You look down and realize he’s staring at a faint birthmark on your inner thigh.

“Wait…” he shakes his head, “are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”

Two: 

Seungcheol’s whole world has stopped. Things had been a little fuzzy from drinking mixed booze for a couple of hours, but now, the world is extremely clear. He can’t stop looking at the mark on your thigh, the tiny mark- so small you could miss it, so small it would likely be insignificant in every scenario- except Seungcheol has been looking at that mark nearly every night for the better part of two months.

As someone involved with unofficial guidance in the camming industry, Seungcheol has made it his job to keep an eye out for competition… but at the same time, Seungcheol’s not about to watch all the male camboys. No, he’s taken to watching the girls, seeing what works, what doesn't-

And then he’d found anonymous, mask and wig-wearing camgirl BabyDoll246, and he’d become obsessed.

You… you can’t be camgirl BabyDoll246… except, it’s your mark, on your thigh- and now that Seungcheol thinks about it, other things are starting to fit too.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol repeats, “Are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”

“Cheol…”

“I’ve got so many business tips for you!” Seungcheol belts out, his grooming as a businessman taking over, without the aid of his usual charming lines, which are blurred by his tispy countenance. 

“What?” You blink up at him in confusion. “You’re not mad that I’m a camgirl?”

“Why would I be mad?” Seungcheol asks in shock. 

“Because, uh… well, some men are very controlling and protective over the girls they sleep with?”

“Some men need to grow some balls, and also, we haven’t slept together yet.”

“Which brings me back to the fact that I’m in my bra and panties on your bed, so are we doing this, or what?” You chuckle, but there’s a nervousness to it.

Seungcheol gets the impression that the whole camgirl thing is a touchy subject for you. Not many cam people are proud and loud about what they do for work, and Seungcheol knows it’s hard to face the judgment that comes with being an adult entertainer while also trying to get a university degree.

His mind is spinning, and Seungcheol does his best to push it all down.

He thinks maybe he’d had too much to drink earlier, and Seungcheol’s the kind of man who struggles to get hard when he’s been excessive with his alcohol consumption. But he’s not about to pass up this opportunity, not when his mouth still works.

The frat president sinks to his knees, hooking his fingers in your panties to remove them.

“Eat you out now, talk business another time, when I’m sober,” he promises.

“You’re not going to fuck me after eating me out?” you question.

Seungcheol would normally be open about his failings as a man, but now that he knows you’re camgirl BabyDoll246, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you. So instead, he tells you, “I don’t want to rush things,” then he pulls your core to his tongue.

You don’t question him further, your head lolling back, a whimper escaping you.

God, you sound even prettier in person, and it encourages Seungcheol to go harder, giving you everything his mouth has to give.

He’s watched you cum on toys of all sorts, and he’ll be damned if he can’t make you cum on his tongue. 

Three:

You can’t believe you’ve agreed to a ‘buisness meeting’ with Choi Seungcheol- but after he’d made you cum on his tongue three times, you hadn’t been in the mindset to argue with him about anything.

So here you are, after dinner on a Tuesday, walking through the nearly deserted library until you find the frat president in a far corner on his laptop.

Seungcheol waves you over, and he even stands to give you a lingering hug.

“Missed you,” he whispers, and if he didn’t sound so sincere, you might find it laughable.

By now, you’ve worked it out that Seungcheol is a major fanboy of yours. What had felt like a push-pull power dynamic ‘maybe’ relationship has been flipped on its head, and now, you’re acutely aware that you hold all of the cards. 

“I made a PowerPoint,” Seungcheol announces as you both sit down next to each other.

“What?”

He opens his laptop, and you find yourself staring at a Google Slides document with the apt title ‘BabyDoll246 - rebranding prospects for financial gain.’ In tiny font at the bottom, there’s a ‘by Choi Seungcheol’ note, and you find yourself laughing.

“You can’t be serious,” you tell him.

“Deadly serious,” he warns you. “Now, if I could have five minutes of your uninterrupted time, I can present this for you.” 

You sigh. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I wanted to start my presentation today by discussing my qualifications,” Seungcheol announces - as if this is some sort of job interview - as he clicks the next slide. “Although I should be maintaining client and marketing manager anonymity, I need you to know that I’m the mastermind behind streamer No Face’s success on OnlyFans. I helped guide him into the world of adult content by keeping his brand simple and focused, which is what I can help you with too.”

He hits the next slide, but pauses momentarily.

“I also want you to know that I think it would be a lot easier for you to get big on OnlyFans because more men watch that kind of shit than women do.”

“Do you have the statistics on that?” you tease.

“In a recent study, OnlyFans estimated that seventy-nine percent of their monthly traffic came from male users, as opposed to twenty-one percent for female users.”

“Oh, you actually had the stats.” You blink at him in shock.

“I’m a business major, I come prepared,” he reminds you. “Anyways, there are a few avenues for growth when it comes to you. First, we need to get your brand narrowed down. I’ve noticed you switch a lot between masks and wigs and lighting, there’s no set mood or colour, which makes it hard for repeat watchers to realize it’s you and not one of the many other anonymous camgirls.”

You consider his words.

“So… you mean like No Face has his whole blue thing, and one mask, and that’s it- you always know it’s him,” you clarify.

“Exactly, you need to find your brand, and stick to it. You can mess around with outfits, but one mask, one wig or wig colour, and one lighting set up.”

“That could work,” you admit.

“I also think it would be interesting for you to have a…” he hits the next slide, which just says, “Camera man.” 

You laugh, but then you realize he’s being serious. “Cheol, this is camgirl stuff, it’s not real porn with a real director-”

“But a lot of male audiences like the whole ‘pov’ style of thing, and also, as a man… if I were your camera man, I could help direct you with things your audience would want to see.”

“Oh, so you’re my cameraman now?” you chuckle.

“I think it would help your platform. Not always camera man videos, but sometimes… I’ve also found it helps some cam performers to have a partner behind the camera, someone to talk to, to make the dirty talk more real.”

“Like Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”

“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol’s skin turns pink. “I never mentioned Wonwoo- Wonwoo’s not No Face-”

“Cheol, you don’t have to hide that Wonwoo is No Face, I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” You release a breath and look back down at his PowerPoint. “If I’m being honest, these aren’t the worst ideas in the world.” 

“Then think about it,” Seungcheol says. “You don’t have to agree to anything right now, but just… think about it.” 

Four:

You’ve taken some of Seungcheol’s suggestions to heart. Getting ready with a pink wig, a pink purge mask and pink lighting, you can’t help but think you might be ripping off No Face- but to be fair, Seungcheol had helped Wonwoo’s marketing, so you’re not stealing anyone’s ideas of Seungcheol’s the one who told you to do this.

If this whole thing works, then it works. You know Wonwoo’s not about to sue you for ‘copyright of camming aesthetics’ or something stupid, so you take a breath and turn the camera on, inspecting yourself on the screen. 

One of the good things about the mask is that you can just stare at yourself. There’s no awkward eye contact since no one can see your eyes… however, the mask and wig do get stuffy. 

Pushing the uncomfortable sensation aside, you relax against your bed.

You’ve worn a pink babydoll-style lingerie set, and when you spread your thighs, it shows off your crotchless panties.

“I’m so wet already,” you murmur, playing it up for the camera. In the back of your mind, you consider what you’d be saying if Seungcheol were with you right now, so you draw on that for inspiration. 

“I’ve been wanting you inside me,” you groan, reaching down to rub your clit. “Want to feel your tongue again, want to feel your thick fingers and your massive cock.”

You can see donations coming in, and you realize Seungcheol was onto something with upping your dirty talk game by being in the moment.

“My little fingers just aren’t enough,” you continue, pushing one inside of yourself. “Maybe I should add another.”

You continue teasing yourself and dirty-talking to the camera until you have enough donations, and then you reach for your vibrator. 

Thinking about Seungcheol is making you wetter than than ever before, and as you bring the toy to your clit, you know you’re not going to last long tonight.

You throw your head back, deciding to moan and whimper instead of dirty-talking further. You imagine it’s Seungcheol holding this toy to your clit- and thinking about that brings back the memory of him eating you out, which only makes you more turned on.

God, his tongue had felt so good that night- 

You’d gripped his hair, riding his face for the third orgasm, your chest heaving, heart racing, skin clammy from exhaustion. 

You get lost in the memory, the tension building in the pit of your stomach. Soon, you’re falling over the edge, your pussy clamping down on nothing while desperately aching for Seungcheol to be filling you up-

You ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure surging through you with each wiggle of your hips.

Seungcheol’s voice swirls through your head, and as the show comes to an end, you realize you want to take him up on his offer.

Five:

It’s been all of ten minutes since you turned off your cam show, your wig is off, and you’re resting in bed just trying to collect yourself, when there’s a knock at your door.

“Uh… busy?!” you call, thinking it’s a sorority sister.

“It’s me.”

Seungcheol’s voice makes you sit up abruptly. “One second!”

You wrap a robe around your body, nearly falling on your face in an effort to hop off the bed. You unlock your door, opening it to find the business major standing there.

He looks disheveled, frantic even, and he immediately pushes into your room.

“You took my advice,” he says.

“Hmm?”

“I just watched your stream. All pink monochrome colours and aesthetics- of course you’d choose pink, fuck you look so good in pink.” Seungcheol is practically pacing in front of you, and you wrap your rope tighter around your naked body.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“I got too caught up in drinking and business last time, I should have fucked you, but I didn’t, and you have no idea how much I’ve been regretting that.” 

You realize he’s still hung up on the night of the frat party, and you also realize maybe Seungcheol’s been thinking about you as much as you’ve been thinking about him. 

“I’m not used to this,” Seungcheol admits, taking a seat on your bed and running his hand through his hair. “I’m a business major, I’m supposed to keep a level head, but fuck- I found out  you were BabyDoll246 and I think it just made me feral.”

“You’re cute when you’re a fanboy,” you tease, sitting next to him.

Seungcheol groans, but he accepts it when you open your arms for him, and he cuddles close to your chest, breathing in heavily. You stroke his hair, giving him space to speak.

“I want you,” he says finally. “I want you so fucking bad. I offered the cameraman thing to be close to you, and I’ll still do that for you, I’ll help you with your brand, but- even before I knew you were BabyDoll246, I’ve been into you for months.”

“So why did you never make a move?”

“I’ve got a porn addiction,” he admits. “Well… maybe not an addiction. I’m pretty ingrained in the OnlyFans industry, not personally, but… I’m involved, and I know that can be rough on partnerships in this day and age-”

“So this situation is kind of perfect, huh?” you grin. “Can’t microcheat on me by watching porn if I’m the one you always want to watch.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “Guess that’s true.”

“What if you only like me because I’m BabyDoll246?” you joke.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “I’m going to simp for you so hard.”

“I think you already are,” you grin. “Making me cum three times on your tongue, not even fucking me yourself- how were the blue balls after that party?”

“So bad.”

“And how are they right now after watching my show?”

“Maybe you should take my pants off and see for yourself,” Seungcheol teases.

You stare at him for a moment, and then you sink to your knees next to the bed. You push open his thighs, hands reaching for his button and zipper.

“Shit,” Seungcheol cusses, letting out a shaky breath as you begin to tug his pants down. 

“Didn’t think I’d actually do it, did you?” you grin.

“I guess not,” he chuckles, swallowing thickly. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am, are you?”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah, but uh… no pressure.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and you pause to look up at him. “Seungcheol, you made me cum three times with your mouth, I think you deserve this in return.”

“I don’t uh… keep track like that,” he says shyly.

“Then don’t keep track. Sit back, relax, and let me do this.”

Seungcheol nods, watching you carefully as you hook your fingers in his underwear, tearing them down his legs.

God, he’s so thick. His shoulders are broad, his thighs are juicy, and his cock looks like something out of a fever dream, all hard and big-

He might have the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, and when you wrap your hand around the base, you realize you’re already practically drooling.

“Try not to choke,” Seungcheol says, and you flash a glare up at him.

“For someone who seems shy at points, you’re actually pretty cocky aren’t you?” 

“I mean…” he bites his lip, “I think I’ve got a lot to work with.”

You have no response to that, because it’s true. You simply shake your head, taking a breath before leaning forward.

You start by licking at his tip, teasing it while he groans above you. You like his sounds, and they prompt you to take more of him into your mouth. You continue to suckle on him, paying attention to the sensitive mushroom head.

Men always want more, they always want to see how much you can fit inside your mouth- so to start like this, well, it will tease Seungcheol and make him even more eager for you than he already is. 

His hand finds your hair, and he strokes you as you suck on him.

“Feels good,” he groans, shifting a little so he can lean back, his other hand now pressed against your mattress.

You moan a sound of affirmation, sinking down on him further.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathes. “You’re so good at this.”

You’re a glutton for praise, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks, moving up and down on his length.

When it comes to sexual activities, blow jobs aren’t usually at the top of your preference list, but there’s something about pleasuring this man- about hearing him come undone for you.

He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this. 

You’re practically slurping on him now, your mouth starting to make obscene sounds from the effort, and Seungcheol echoes the noises with groans and grunts of his own.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t want to cum from this.”

You pull off of him. “Then don’t cum?”

He lets out a shocked laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

“No?” You trail your tongue from his base to his tip. “Can’t control yourself?”

Seungcheol meets your gaze, and you see something harden in his eyes.

“No, I can’t.”

He grabs you suddenly, lifting you off the ground and tossing you onto the bed.

Then Seungcheol stands up, tearing off his shirt so he’s now naked for you. God, he’s so gorgeous- he’s all big and muscled and-

Seungcheol reaches down, opening your robe with one motion, and just like that, you’re both naked.

“Condoms?” Seungcheol asks.

“I’m protected, as long as you’re not some STI-riddled frat boy.”

“I’m clean,” he laughs.

“Me too.”

“So… you’re okay with this?”

“Stop talking and fuck me,” you whine, opening your thighs to expose yourself to him.

You’re wet already, and it’s not just from the orgasms you’d had on cam half an hour ago. No, you’re more turned on than you ever have been before, your pussy already practically aching for something- anything, to lessen the feeling of complete emptiness.

Seungcheol joins you on the bed, and your thighs wrap around his hips.

He presses his lips to yours eagerly, your tongues immediately clashing in a passionate dance.

Your hands grab his strong shoulders, and you love the feeling of your chests pressed together like this. Seungcheol moans, rutting his hips so he can grind down against your wet core.

The sensation of his hard cock teasing your clit has you whimpering, and the kiss deepens.

You’re eager for him, but just as you’d played around by making him wait when you sucked him off, it seems Seungcheol is intent on making you be patient as well.

God, each grind of his hips has your core tensing, your clit nearly throbbing with need.

“Seungcheol,” you whimper, breaking the kiss so you can gasp at the feeling. “Please-” 

His lips move down to your throat, and he teases your sweet spot there, making you moan even louder.

“Please!” you say again, with more force.

This time, Seungcheol does as you ask, his hand slipping between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. He lines himself up with your core, slowly sinking into you inch by inch.

You gasp at the stretch, loving the feeling of his big cock as it splits you open.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “So fucking tight.”

You can’t say anything in response, you can only writhe against your bed, your core finally appeased. The sensation of his thick length working every inch of your inner walls- it has you feeling dizzy already, and when he begins to thrust, your mind goes practically blank except for the pleasure that washes over you.

Seungcheol adjusts your thigh, spreading you open so he can sink even deeper. He hits every spot perfectly, and you feel feral as you lay there, taking everything he can give while moaning like a whore in heat.

“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you, panting from the effort. “Could fuck you for hours.”

“Cheol- I’m sensitive!” you warn him.

“Came a few times on cam, but you can still take more, right?” He lets out a small laugh. “What would be the point if you can’t take more?”

“I can cum,” you tell him, nodding enthusiastically. “Just- don’t break me.”

“In one of your shows, you came five times, I think that’s your limit. You just came three times on your show tonight, so I think that gives me two to work with.” 

Your muscles clench at the idea of cumming two more times tonight, but you’re not about to argue with him, so instead you just whimper, “Please.” 

“Anything for you, baby.”

Seungcheol pulls out of you suddenly, and you look at him in confusion, only for his lips to wrap around your nipple. He gropes your other breast, and you can’t help but moan, tangling your fingers in his hair desperately. 

He gives your chest the attention it deserves, and then his mouth continues its descent.

Seungcheol is lying on the bed now, his hands adjusting your thighs so they’re braced over his shoulders. 

“Been thinking about eating this pussy every fucking day,” he tells you. 

“Me too,” you admit.

“Yeah? Bet you were thinking about it during your show earlier.”

“I was,” you whimper, wiggling against the bed, your clit stimulated from his breath alone.

“Guess I shouldn’t make you wait.”

Seungcheol dives in, not holding anything back as he pushes his tongue into your core, rubbing his nose against your clit at the same time.

Your thighs are already beginning to shake, and you grab at the bedding, trying to keep yourself anchored while your muscles begin to tense.

Neither of you needs to say anything else. It’s clear Seungcheol has a goal in mind, and he’s quickly approaching the finish line. There’s something so sexy about a man who’s messy while eating you out, a man who clearly enjoys himself and doesn’t hold anything back.

“Shit,” you whimper, feeling the build up as it begins to tingle through you.

Seungcheol groans against your core, turning his attention to your clit. At the same time he shifts so he can push two fingers into your wet pussy, crooking them so he can stimulate your g-spot.

“Just like that!” you cry out. “Don’t stop!”

Seungcheol has no intentions of stopping, and he works you all the way to your high. 

“Cumming!” you announce, core clamping down on his fingers as intense throbbing errupts through you. 

You know enough about Seungcheol from the last three times he made you cum with his mouth to know he’s not the type of man who stops the moment you orgasm. No, he’s the type to work you through it, to eat you out with even more vigour until your legs are shaking, your heart is racing, and you’re physically pushing him away.

You’re still sensitive from cumming on cam, so it takes very little for you to reach the point of being overstimulated.

One push to his head makes Seungcheol pull away, and he looks up at you.

You’re both breathing heavily, and you watch him lick his lips, his pupils blown as he stares at you.

“That was one of two,” he warns you, and you would find it comical that he’s keeping track like this if you weren’t so overwhelmed from that orgasm.

You open your arms, a wordless urging for him to join you again.

But Seungcheol doesn’t comply, instead, he moves to sit next to you, his back against your headboard.

“Come here,” he says softly, helping you up. You straddle him, and he guides you down onto his cock, which fills your still aching core deliciously.

You both groan from the sensation, and you simply cockwarm him while you get your bearings.

He begins to kiss you, soft kisses that tease your skin.

One of his hands begins to massage your breast, and you let out a sigh of pleasure, throwing your head back.

You grab at his shoulders to anchor yourself, beginning to circle your hips so you can feel how deep he is inside of you.

Seungcheol wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his lips now moving to your throat.

“You look so good like this,” he tells you, and your core throbs from his words. 

You take a breath, steadying yourself so you can begin to move.

Bouncing is effort, and you know you’re not going nearly as fast as Seuncgheol can go when it comes to fucking, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lavishes on you, kissing your body, groping your breasts, all the while moaning, which turns you on even more. 

Soon, he’s grabbing your hips, helping you bounce on him. You love how fucking strong he is, the way his biceps bulge with effort.

There’s something so slow and sensual about this, for you to be on top but still controlled by him. It feels amazing, and you feel very close to Seungcheol. There’s no rush; it’s simply an enjoyment of each other, and it allows you to lose yourself in the feeling.

However, soon, you can’t help yourself.

Your hand reaches for your clit, and your entire pussy clenches around Seungcheol as you begin to rub your sensitive bud.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, moving you faster on his cock.

“Want you to cum with me,” you whimper, eyes closed as you focus entirely on the feeling beginning to build inside of you again.

“Let me know when you’re close,” he tells you, continuing to bounce you on his cock. 

You give yourself grace to enjoy the build-up, there’s no pressure or time constraints, and soon, you’re nodding. “Okay, I’m almost there.” 

Seungcheol nods, and with one motion, he flips you onto your back so you’re in missionary again. Now he has full control, and Seungcheol begins to fuck you fast and hard. It’s a contrast to the slow way you’d been moving on top of him, and the new change of pace feels amazing.

You rub your clit even harder, your eyes clenching shut as you get closer and closer to the edge-

“Cheol!” you whimper.

“I’m almost there, too,” he tells you, panting against your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Your entire body tenses, and then you fall over the edge. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol like a vice and he groans deeply, signalling his own release as he fucks you through your shared high.

You’re both gasping, panting, and clutching each other desperately, with Seungcheol all but burying his face against your throat. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding him close as his motions start to slow.

The pleasure is surging through you, all the more amplified by the sensation of closeness with Seungcheol.

Soon, he comes to a stop, and you hold him tight, both of you just trying to catch your breath.

You feel Seungcheol swallow, and he pulls away from your neck, looking down at you. “That was amazing.”

“It was,” you agree, teasing your thumb across his cheekbone. “So… you’re my new cameraman.”

He chuckles. “Going to be hard to watch you do any solo things.”

“You’ll just fuck me right after, like this,” you say simply.

“Fuck, what a life.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here

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🔮 preview. Seungcheol has been learning your body, inside and out, and you love that he’s taken the time to understand what makes you tick.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, cam show/ porn, dirty talk, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cum kink, creampie kink, sexual catering to audience, use of vibrator toy, spanking, ‘pov’ video filming, Seungcheol is her mute fuck toy for the cam show, overstim, squirting, hand job, masturbation, edging, etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 130

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of Seungcheol being your cameraman, and your streams have definitely improved.

It helps to have a businessman with a vision in your corner, and when he’s behind the camera, it’s especially helpful for your content. Seungcheol brings realism to everything, because you can almost act as if there’s no camera at all. It’s just you and Seungcheol, and that taste of reality has brought in a ton of new subscribers. 

He’s your official boyfriend now, but you know he’s been whipped for you from the start. Any man who’s willing to help their girlfriend succeed in the adult content industry is a bit of a simp, but you kind of love that about Seungcheol. In fact, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

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you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt. 

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips. 

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you. 

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?” 

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

Jinyoung only smirks from his proprietary position on your couch. He’s plenty relaxed, his fitted grey pants stretched taut over his thighs comfortably spread apart, taking up more space than necessary. The crisp white shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows. No watch, phone, shoes, socks, or keys, and his typically perfect hair is tousled and relaxed. 

He doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

“How was your day at work, sweetheart? Kids all settled in at your mom's?”

His playful response thins your patience, just slightly. “They’re teenage boys with dirtbikes and twenty acres of land. You know they don’t need to settle in anymore. They practically live outside all weekend except when mom calls them in to eat. They’re fine,” you ignore his first question and continue moving past him, straight toward the kitchen.

Jinyoung laughs and you can hear him getting up to follow you. You’re bent over, looking in the refrigerator drawers to pull something out for dinner when his hands slide over your hips, pulling you back up and away from your task. You kick the fridge shut with your foot and he kisses your temple. “I already ordered delivery,” he hums against your shoulder now, hands trailing up and around your waist, keeping you anchored to his body, “How about a glass of wine?”

You want to say no but it’s been a long day, it’s the weekend, and you’ll want one if you have to endure this for the rest of the night. 

“Make it red,” you sigh in defeat, rolling your eyes when he kisses your neck.

As he pulls away, you catch yourself watching his every move. It’s been three months of this.

You were together for fifteen years, married twelve, brought two beautiful boys into the world, and divorced just over a year ago. It was a mutual choice, one you hated to make, but it was what felt necessary at the time. Jinyoung was still the same incredibly attentive father keeping the boys every weekend, showing up for every school award and sporting event, and you even agreed to still have holidays together as a family. You co-parented like champs.

And then he invited you over one night for dinner, just to catch up, about three months ago. It wasn’t even the first time you had done it. There were several occasions since your separation when you shared a meal with and without the kids. This one just happened to be…different.

Dinner was fine, pleasant even, and then he fucked you against every single surface in his condo like he was making up for time lost over the last year in one evening. Worse than that, you spent the night and did it all over again the next day.

Presently, Jinyoung hands you a glass and pours another for himself. You swirl the contents idly until he corks the bottle and lifts his glass to yours. “To our good fortune and health, our wildly handsome sons who are probably not going to shower for the next three days,” your pursed lips break into a small smile, amusement glittering in your eyes, “And to us, for everything we’ve accomplished, and for all that’s yet to come.”

His smile is a dazzling reminder of how you fell for him in the first place. You raise your glass and take a hardy sip letting the flavor splash over your palette. “How long until the food gets here?”

Jinyoung glances at the clock overhead and grins. “Twenty minutes.”

Your eyes slip down to his chest and that’s all it takes for Jinyoung to have you pinned against the counter with your panties pushed aside and one of your legs up around his waist. You cling to his shoulders, crying out his name as he fucks you recklessly right there in your own kitchen. 

Because he can.

Because you want him to.

He pumps into you faster and you try to brace yourself on the cool granite, accidentally knocking into one of the wine glasses. Neither of you even stops to look as the glass tips over and shatters, red wine bleeding out until it’s spilling onto the floor. You’re too close and he refuses to look at anything other than your face, lids half closed, lips parted in praise.

“We’re running out of time,” he murmurs, still smirking as he says it because he knows you’ll finish before then. He reaches up, cradling your cheek in one hand which might seem sweet for a moment but then he pushes his thumb against the seam of your lips, parting his own as a silent order to open yours. 

Despite how distracted you are, you understand easily what he’s doing and accept his instructions, opening up for him to push the tip of his thumb inside just long enough for you to wet it before he’s pulling it out and rolling it over your clit, lazily at first. He finds so much joy in dragging things out for as long as he possibly can, grinning the entire time. Then his phone buzzes in his pocket and he knows he’ll have to save the teasing for later. 

He leans closer, kissing your neck as he speeds up both his hands and hips. Your head tips back into the cabinet behind you, panting into the open air above. The sweet sounds pouring from your lips spur him on and it is absolutely not in his plans to finish now, as masochistic as that feels at the moment, so he contains them, slipping his free hand behind your neck so he can kiss you hotly on the mouth, swallowing each sigh. It’s exactly what you needed too. 

The doorbell chimes and you barely hear it, all background noise canceled out as your orgasm leaves you shaking, ears ringing, and chest heaving. He doesn’t move until you still, slumped back against the counter trying to catch your breath. Then, after he fixes his clothes, he slides your panties back in place, pulls your dress down, and kisses you again, much softer this time. 

“Food is here,” he hums, smiling when you trail after his lips. 

“Food can be reheated later,” you counter, catching him in another kiss. 

Jinyoung laughs, the sound is beautiful and something you’ve missed so much. “Let me at least bring it inside and clean up the mess on the floor real quick.”

Oh, right. Broken wine glass. “I’ll clean that up.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “Let me take care of it, please.”

Let me take care of you…

You hold onto him for a few seconds more and relent, “I’ll be in the bedroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

His brows pull together, “My favorite room in the house? Of course, I do.”

Jinyoung leaves you with an easy grin and you watch him go until he’s out of sight before trailing down the hall to your room. Bypassing the light switch, you opt to use the lamp on the bedside table instead and it fills the room with a low–light. You pull off your dress and bra, depositing them in the hamper, and decide to grab one of his shirts from its hidden place in the depths of your closet. 

When he returns, food in hand as you predicted, he grins seeing that you read his mind. 

“If we don’t eat it now, we never will,” you shrug, patting his side of the bed, “Come on.”

He hands over the bags to you and you begin pulling things out trying to not get distracted by him stripping off his clothes until he’s left in only his briefs and crawling into bed next to you. He helps set everything up and you grab the remote, flipping on the TV. 

It’s so painfully reminiscent of your early years together. When you were wholly focused on your relationship with each other, not on your careers, your children, or your future. 

After a while, Jinyoung lets out a small sigh. “When did we stop doing this?”

You smile wistfully. “It’s been a long time,” you poke at your food in the takeout container, “At some point we just…gave up.”

He understands what you truly mean.

Jinyoung stares at the side of your face, your eyes still trained on the contents you’re stirring around in thought. He has always loved you - he still does in this very moment. It was never about falling out of love, but because you both fell into roles. A husband, a wife. A father and a mother. You’d forgotten that beneath all of that, you were two people in love, and at some point, you stopped prioritizing your relationship. 

“I love you,” he says suddenly and you look at him, wide-eyed, “I love you so much and I’m sorry I stopped saying it out loud.”

“Jiny-”

He sets his container down and turns to you, reaching out for your free hand. “I’m sorry that I stopped kissing you hello, and goodbye, and for no reason at all…that I stopped holding your hand in the car and across the table,” you set your food aside and take his other hand, squeezing it tightly, “I’m sorry that I didn’t even realize that I’d just…stopped trying.”

“I am just as much at fault,” you reach up, brushing your thumb under his eye, burning with fresh tears, “We were…young and so in love, and then we grew up and life got busy. We stopped prioritizing our needs in our relationship and we got burnt out.”

He nods, understanding exactly what you mean. 

“I love you, Jinyoung, I have always loved you, and I’m sorry we had to go through all of this just to remember how to show it to one another.”

He cradles your face in his hands and pulls you closer to kiss you tenderly. It’s soft, sad, happy, sweet…it’s full of love. Your hands close around his wrists and he pulls back a touch, smiling at you softly. “I can’t say I am glad we did it, but it gave us this chance to remember who we are and what we want. I love you and I want to spend every day reminding you just how much I love you.”

“Are you asking me to go steady, Jinyoung?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing and steals another kiss. “I’m asking you to be my wife…again.”

“I don’t think I can go through the stress of another wedding,” you sigh, pressing your foreheads together.

“You don’t want to hear me recite my vows to you all over again?”

He says it as he leans over you, arms coming around your body in a way that says he won’t be letting go any time soon. It's a glorious place to be and the thought of calling him your husband again, just your husband and not your ex, is as thrilling now as it was when he proposed.

“Well, maybe I could be persuaded…a little intimate garden wedding sounds kind of nice…”

He grins and buries his face in your neck, savoring the beautiful sound of the laughter that spills from your lips as he kisses your skin over and over. Then he picks his head up and bites his lip, “How do you think the boys will feel?”

You scoff. “I think the boys know more than they let on.”

He tilts his head in thought. “Now that you mention it, I usually get a reminder text, sometimes from both of them, every day leading up to a stay with your parents. Almost like they wanted to make sure I knew you’d be home alone that particular weekend….my darling sons….handsome and clever, like their father.”

“Mhm,” you purse your lips at the wistful look on his face, “Come to think of it, I remember your eldest looking a little too smug, like his father, when he asked ‘What happened to what’s his face?’ as if he already knew. You told him, didn’t you?”

Jinyoung scowls thinking about the guy you had just barely started seeing before the two of you started fooling around again. “That tall motherfucker,” he grunts, “I can’t believe you were going to replace me with that guy. What? Just because he can cook? So what…anybody can take a cooking class!”

You roll your eyes, quietly laughing at his ongoing rant. 

He finally notices the amusement all over your face and abruptly asks, “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, still grinning, “Kind of cute to know you still get jealous over me.”

Jinyoung scoffs, stutters, and then closes his mouth for a moment. “Ok, yeah…fair. I was extremely jealous. You could have chosen someone less attractive.”

“That would have made you less jealous?” you quirk your brow. 

“No,” he immediately shakes his head. No hesitation.

Laughter erupts from your chest. You didn’t think so either. “ Listen, I wasn’t replacing you and that guy is a good person, so be nice. Your boys were feral around him but he had the patience of a saint. I’m still surprised he didn’t run away after picking me up for our first date. They must take after you…hellions.”

Jinyoung gives you the most deadpan expression. “My boys are angels.”

“Your boys are howling at the moon and swinging through trees right now.”

He laughs but agrees. “Have they checked in at all? I haven’t heard anything.”

“I have no idea, my phone is still in my purse,” you pinch his arm, grinning, “I walked in to find you spread out on the couch and got distracted. I had to pretend I wasn’t drooling just looking at you.”

“You don’t have to pretend that I am not the sexiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on,” he teases with a pretty smile, “I think it’s obvious if you’re willing to marry me twice.”

“Go get my phone so we can be responsible parents.”

He obliges but only after he kisses you so thoroughly it leaves you breathless in his wake. He winks, climbing out of the bed. “Have I told you that you’re the hottest mom, ever?”

You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head until you’re exposed to his hungry eyes. “How about you just move your ass so I can remind you exactly how hot I am.”

He has to drag himself away, quickly making his way into the living room, retrieving your phone from your purse at lightning speed, and then he jumps back into bed, passing it into your waiting hands. You unlock your phone and find a message waiting. You burst into laughter and hold it out for Jinyoung to read. 

“Goodnight Mom (and Dad…we know you’re there. You share your phone location with us, remember?) Grandma says she knows too but told us to mind our business. I think she is really happy though because she gave us a high-five and extra dessert. Ok, LOVE YOU GUYS!!!”

Jinyoung laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah…I forgot about the location thing,” he admits, climbing back under the covers next to you, “I guess this means we can stop sneaking around.”

“I think I might miss the privacy in your condo,” you grin, playfully squeezing his chest, “We can’t be nearly as loud here.”

Jinyoung smirked, “Let’s sell both our places and buy a new one with the master bedroom on the opposite side of the house.”

“And a pool so the boys stay busy outside.”

Jinyoung kisses your forehead. “I love the way you think.”

“Thank you,” you say sweetly, rolling on top of your husband, “But I want you to make sure I can’t think straight for the next forty-eight hours.”

Jinyoung grins, flipping over to pin your body beneath his. “Happy wife,” he pauses to steal another searing kiss, “Happy life.”

Thanks for reading!

GOT7 M.List | Main M.List

“she’s doing it again,” jeno grumbled, walking into haechan’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

haechan snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

jeno scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jisung was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” haechan quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from haechan’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. jeno couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

haechan, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. jeno was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to jeno, considering he knew how much haechan liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” jeno said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

haechan shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that jeno always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” haechan started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

jeno looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” haechan retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

haechan rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hyuck,” jeno warned. 

haechan threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

jeno sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, haechan laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, jeno thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” haechan replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

jeno was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

haechan broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

jeno’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” haechan replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now jeno was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had jeno seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in that than the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

haechan broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. jeno wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown haechan any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” haechan said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

jeno sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

haechan burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” jeno groaned.

haechan finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

jeno gawked in disbelief. then again, none of haechan’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” haechan chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” jeno replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

jeno couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. jeno could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

jeno decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to haechan’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

jeno heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, haechan opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was jeno’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on haechan’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

haechan lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

jeno nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

jeno’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from haechan’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in haechan’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

jeno sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue haechan on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

jeno knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

haechan glanced over at jeno. “so, how we doing this?”

jeno looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

jeno looked you up and down subtly. haechan, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

haechan closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

jeno glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

jeno walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” jeno asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” haechan commented. 

jeno chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in jeno’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” haechan chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to jeno that you failed to notice haechan had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” haechan asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” jeno asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but haechan was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

jeno opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” haechan called from the other side of the room. 

jeno turned the laptop to face you and haechan. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in haechan’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” jeno answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

haechan laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor jeno over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when haechan squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from jeno to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” haechan groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, jeno would have narrowed his eyes at haechan and called him disgusting. but this was different. jeno didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” jeno said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

haechan grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. jeno grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as jeno had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” jeno replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” haechan asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

jeno snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. “this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jisung. didn’t it, hyuck?”

“yep,” haechan chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jaemin had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” jeno asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” haechan said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, haechan.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, haechan.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” haechan replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

haechan was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way haechan was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at jeno instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

jeno chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to haechan. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

haechan, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” jeno replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

haechan spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, haechan couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“haechan,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, jeno was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

haechan pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

jeno tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which jeno seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” jeno cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

haechan snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, jeno said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” haechan asked.

jeno closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched jeno as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

haechan licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

haechan started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” haechan joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because jeno was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, jeno,” haechan started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. haechan knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

haechan tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by jeno’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around haechan’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” haechan moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” haechan said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds jeno was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

haechan was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here haechan was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; jeno fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or haechan railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around jeno’s dick at haechan’s angled thrusts and throbbing around haechan at every guttural groan that slipped from jeno’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

jeno noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. jeno moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, jeno marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” haechan asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” jeno answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” jeno whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way jeno was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

haechan was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but haechan recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” haechan pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

haechan let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” haechan said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on haechan’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

jeno was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but jeno’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, jeno released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

haechan glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased jeno.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had haechan levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

haechan glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

jeno whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

haechan chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

jeno kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

haechan was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

haechan snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. jeno joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

haechan sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at haechan wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

jeno translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

smut warnings. body examination, wrongful dilator use, forced hybrid heat, mind break, fingering, vaginal oral, rimming, double penetration, slick, squirting, breeding, unprotected sex, rough sex, etc

————————————-

“There’s a small problem, nothing to panic over. But Doctor Jack’s wife has gone into labor. He will not be able to treat you today.”

“B-but! Dr. Jack has been handling my special situation from the beginning! I can’t go through this without him.”

The sheep hybrid nurse sighs, fiddling with her white curled locks. “Listen, I know it seems scary but Dr. Na is very skilled with bunny’s! He’s studied your breed during all of his time at one of the top Hybrid schools in all of the country!” 

“Dr. Na?? What? I’ve never met him before.” You fret, glancing around the office in a panic.

“He is a very close colleague of Dr. Jack’s, in fact they studied together! You see, it’s been a hectic week here at the facility and Doctor had to pull some strings to find this last minute coverage. That’s how much he cares about you as a patient!” She smiles much too large, nodding frantically. “Dr. Jack asked me to warn you ahead of time, due to Dr. Na’s subgender..”

“What? Why? Is he not a Hare? Why would Dr. Jack recommend a hybrid different from my own breed?!”

“Now now honey, he is a professional. Before hybrids, we are professionals. Look at me! I’m half sheep and you have no complaints.” She sasses, propping a hand on her hip. “Dr. Na is a lovely man, he’s a hit every time he covers for Dr. Jack!”

“What is he??” You frown, growing annoyed with how evasive she’s being.

Folding her hands over her stomach, her nose twitches. “King Cobra I believe is what he’s said before—“

“WHAT?! A SNAKE!” Getting up from the chair you’d been patiently waiting on, you reach for your overnight bag. “Absolutely not! Not even a prey breed! But a Goddamn snake!”

“Calm down!” She barks, pushing your shoulders to sit back down. “You know how hard Dr. Jack worked to squeeze an appointment in for you! Don’t be so ungrateful, he can’t control when his wife’s water breaks!”

“I can’t have a snake examining me! He’ll try to eat me!” You shout. Dragging your fingers roughly down your fluffed ears. “I—I refuse!”

“Dr. Jack has no open availability for the next 6 months. If you skip the appointment then we’ll have to keep you on fertility medication.”

“But it’s—it’s making me sick, I vomit every time I try to eat. And I feel nauseous all day, there’s nothing else I can try?” You plead, desperate to get out of this office.

“I can’t prescribe anything, only Dr. Na can.. after examining you. Now, I know you haven’t experienced a first heat yet, and at your age this is a highly unusual occurrence. Dr. Jack has never seen a case as severe as yours..” she laments, frowning to one side. “Trust me when I say that Dr. Na is an amazing man, and he’d never risk his license to eat a damn bunny hybrid.”

Tears well up in your eyes, slumping into the office chair you’ve spent many hours in before sharing your fears and worries.

What if you never find a mate? What if you’re not able to produce a kit? No Buck hybrid would ever see you as worthy of pairing with if you can’t even birth him one child, let alone multiple..

“He won’t hurt you, Dr. Na is nothing but a professional.” She rubs your shoulder. “He’s been waiting too long now.. your attitude is dragging this day on more than necessary.”

“Okay, I.. I’ll see him.”

“There there bunny, you should be proud of yourself.” Passing you a gown to change into, she nods. “Predator prejudice is such a dated mindset. I’m surprised someone in their 20s still behaves this way.”

Pft, you glare at her. Snatching the gown from her and blowing your ears away from your face. “I’ll send the Doctor in now, remember to be a nice bunny. You can put that on after the Doctor’s gone over your chart.”

Bowing out, she turns and leaves the room. The walls feel closer in the second she leaves. It had already taken you years to accept a Buck hybrid for a physician, but searching high and low for a Doe in your area had led you down empty roads. The chances of finding a female rabbit hybrid within a 50 mile radius of you seemed more impossible than finding a needle in a haystack.

And so you met with Dr. Jack when you were of age to begin experiencing your first heat. When the time never came, your mother encouraged you to seek help. Drilling into your head how important it is that you find a mate one day to grow old with, and that no respectable Buck would be interested in a barren host.

After postponing the use of medication for the past few years, you finally caved, at your wits end. The infertility meds hadn’t agreed with you, and landing this appointment had already taken months as is. None of the therapy sessions, heat inducing medication, diet changes, lifestyle changes, even the use of various tools for masturbation.. none had made a difference. Now you sit here in Dr. Jack’s office once again, hopeful and fearing.

A snake hybrid, a king cobra of all types. What in the world could Dr. Jack be thinking to associate with the likes of a ruthless predator of that caliber?! And why, why would he allow him to assist one of his most difficult patients!

The door creaks as it slowly moves open and a shiny pair of leather loafers step foot inside. The scent of him travels fast, smokey and herby, carrying traces of sage and bergamot. It’s the scent of a predator, lacking any softness, nothing similar to Dr. Jack’s warm cotton and dewy flower field aroma. 

Without lifting your head to look at him, you watch as his legs walk past you rounding the desk in front of you. The slacks he wears have not a wrinkle in sight, lined and ironed to a crisp. His lab coat cinches at his trim waist, widening up his broad upper back and shoulders, and his hair.. his full thick head of hair hides any indication of scales, tapering off into his collared shirt. From the back he seems almost.. harmless, attractive even. Exactly as a predator would love to be perceived by a prey..

Blinking, you watch from underneath your eyelashes as he sits in Dr. Jack’s chair, smiling tight-lipped to not show his teeth. He’s trying to not scare you, opening his large glossy eyes wide and full to appear less intimidating. 

“It’s so lovely to meet you! Thank you for allowing me to conduct your visit with us today.” He continues to softly smile. Gathering the folder set out for him, he begins to dive into your personal information.

“You don’t work here..” you grumble. Tugging the end of one of your ears into your mouth to suck on. An anxious habit, no matter how embarrassing it is to do at your age. The equivalent of a human sucking on their thumb, really.

“I often cover for Dr. Jack.” He corrects you, eyebrows furrowing as he reads over your file. “Would rather hear from you than read over all of this medical terminology. So, what seems to be the problem with the fertility medication you’ve been prescribed?”

“Can’t you just read my file?” You mumble, looking away. The tip of your ear now covered with drool, matting your fur down. “Dr. Jack had me log my symptoms everyday in the hybrid app portal.”

“Ah, I see I see.” Shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He turns toward the computer perched on the corner of the desk. Logging in and filling out your information to pull up your logs. “Throwing up, lack of sNap, nausea. Hmm.”

“I can’t take these pills anymore, they make me feel awful.” Alternating to your other ear, you suck at your fur more aggressively. Growing more exhausted by the second of his strong scent that sets off your fight or flight instinct. Filling your mind with urgency to leave, get yourself as far away as possible from danger.

“There is really no need for you to be so nervous.” He speaks softly without tearing his eyes away from the computer screen. Dark snake eyes obviously hidden under a pair of gray contacts to soften his appearance.

“Do you always hide your scales?” You brazenly ask. Noticing how well his button up sits against his throat leaving none of the sides or back of his neck visible. And the gloves he wears.. white gloves, obviously to conceal whatever scales may cover his hand.

Dr. Na’s cheek dimples with a smile, continuing to keep his lips sealed shut. He turns to look at you, folding his hands beneath his chin. “No. Nurse Chops was gracious enough to warn me of your concerns before I entered. I figured I could ease your anxiety if I covered up a bit.”

“W-why would you want to work with prey hybrids? Aren’t you worried that you’ll—“

“I was raised by preys, a pack of Rabbit hybrids in fact. Have never attacked or hunted any type of prey. You know, your environment really does alter the outcome of your beliefs and mindset. I’ve always wanted to help the preys, learn to coexist.” He informs you. Slowly opening his mouth up wider to reveal his set of fangs. Sharp and long, pearly white as if they’ve never been tainted with blood.

Rabbit?? How could deer possibly take in a King Cobra..

“My mother and father were hunted, human hunters from what I was told. I had been tucked away in my nest when the Rabbit hybrids stumbled upon me..” picking up on your apprehension he continues to overshare. “Perhaps if you know more about me, this will feel easier. We have a lot of tests to run today.”

“You studied prey to help us?” You question wearily, releasing your ear from your mouth. 

“To help all of us. Our kinds, hybrids, we’re constantly being exploited, hunted, killed. For the better of all of our breeds, we need to help each other.” He firmly nods, smiling with teeth. His contacts shift as he blinks, peaks of yellow iris appearing behind his glasses. His gloved hands rest on the desk, and broad shoulders stand pronounced even while sat down.

The realization that minutes have passed without being attacked begins to settle. You sit up, smoothing down your ears, reaching for the gown on your lap to clutch at. “How can you help me? What do you know about bunny infertility?”

Dr. Na’s gaze drags down your body for a flash of a second. Returning to your petrified face. “I have quite a bit of experience with rabbit and bunny hybrids. Men and women in fact, some may say your breed is my specialty.” 

Saliva drips from his teeth, sealing his mouth shut with a smile. He discreetly swallows, stealing another look at your crossed ankles. Your small hands trembling and pinching the hospital gown material in your lap. 

Of all the Doe’s he’s ever encountered, you sure are the prettiest. His tongue only salivates more as his gaze returns to your face, your pouty lips and button nose. Fluffy ears flattened against your head as you appear deep in thought.

“What do you think then Doctor? Am I a hopeless cause?” You ask in a whiny tone. Bottom lip jutting out so sadly. He has to grip his legs together to stop a rush of blood from reaching the area between his thighs too fast. You seemed much more difficult at first, a challenge, he can’t stand a challenge.

“Not at all, bunny.” He smiles again. His sharp teeth even seem less frightening beneath his sparkling eyes and overall handsome features. “From what I have read here, Dr. Jack has instructed me to thoroughly examine you today.”

“Should I change now, Dr. Na?” You ask quietly, lifting the gown to your chest. 

“Call me Jaemin, if that’s okay with you bunny. We’re going to be working very closely today, I want you to feel as comfortable with me as you can.” Adjusting his glasses, he stands up and moves around the desk. Sitting perched on the edge with his legs crossing at his ankles in front of you. “Why don’t you go behind that curtain there and get changed, we’ll get you set up on the examination chair.”

Nerves continue to skyrocket through your body even after shutting the curtain. The last view of Dr. Na.. or Jaemin as he informed you, left you gasping for air. His broad frame turned away from you, his back muscles shifting and flexing under his shirt as he removed his lab coat. 

Dr. Jack’s office always maintained a cool temperature, too cold at times even. Keeping his private sectors of work space and examination room connected added to the extra high co-pays his clinic charges. The vials, test tubes, and various medications organized in the room required light and cool temperatures. He explained once as you shivered on the examination table, eyes jumping around the room nervously.

“Knock knock?” Dr. Na calls from the other side of the drape. His expensive leather shoes tapping against the linoleum floor. 

“Yes, uhm, ready.” 

Hardly ready as the drape drags open, the rings attaching to the ceiling clink together and he smiles with no teeth. Now changed into a large cover up, he remains covered up from neck down to his hands. “Let’s check your vitals first, shall we?”

That’s normal, exactly how Dr. Jack begins. Taking a magnified look inside of your ears, your throat, checking your reflexes with a knock against your knee. 

It’s only when he begins to reach inside of the back of your hospital gown that you freak out. Breathing faster, digging your fingers into the cushion of the table beneath you. The metal of his stethoscope presses against your upper back, shivering through your skin.

“Go ahead and take a deep breath.” He whispers by your ear, listening to your rapid beating heart. “You’re very nervous, aren’t you?”

Pressing his free palm to your chest, he breathes in deep for you to follow him. Slowly dragging the air out of his nostrils, he nods and moves the stethoscope around to listen again. “Your hearts beating so fast, I must really make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no, it’s not that..” you shudder. Stomach swooping this close to him, his cheek nearly brushing against yours. 

“I understand.” Another soft and reassuring smile fails to soothe your fear. He shuts your gown, taking down notes. “Everything seems normal, I’ll have you lay back now.”

Dr. Jack’s never gotten this far in your physical exams. That’s why today was so important to you, and now a snake hybrid.. ugh. Cursing to yourself you shift to press your back against the table, staring at the stirrups with fear. “Should I put my legs here?”

“I’ll help you.” He nods, sitting down on a rolling seat. The snap of vinyl gloves jerking you to look up. Too distracted by your position to notice that he swapped them out. “According to your files, you’ve not experienced your first heat yet?”

“Yes, Doctor..” you swallow. Forced into a seated position as he adjusts the table. Grabbing one of your ankles to place in a stirrup. 

“Jaemin.” He grins, setting your other leg into place. “That’s highly unusual for a Doe of your age.”

“I’ve been told.” You mutter annoyed. Only having heard numerous times how odd it is.

“Do you produce slick?” He asks, relaxed as if this is his job. Because it is, and you have to remind yourself every 5 seconds that this attractive snake hybrid is just doing his job.

“I.. no, I don’t believe I do.” 

Without glancing at you once, he continues to scribble down notes. Turning away to open up a cabinet. “I’ll be using lubricant to open you up.”

“Open me up?! What do you mean??” You stiffen, wide-eyed. He turns back to face you, setting down a bottle of clear thick fluid on a tray next to him. 

“For the examination, you scheduled this  appointment as a gyno visit.” He states, as if it should be obvious. Once again making you realize how weird you are being.

This. is. his. job.

“Righ, uhm. That’s what Dr. Jack originally had recommended for me.”

“Are you sexually active?” Picking up his clipboard once again, he checks off different boxes.

“Not at the moment.”

“But you have been?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Have your sexual experiences been painful?”

“Wh-what?”

Jaemin raises his eyebrows, peering up at you. “Without producing slick I’d assume vaginal penetration wasn’t very pleasant?”

“Oh, uhm.” Shrugging, you nod. “Hurt a little, I guess.”

“Was your partner large?”

His question makes your head feel fuzzy, chest itchy, having to look away from him before you can muster up an answer. “Not really.”

“How big would you say? 5 inches? Was he fully hard.”

“Uhm, I don’t remember. It’s been a few months.” You whisper, reaching to play with your fingers. “We used lube.”

“And it still hurt? Was that your first time?” His head tilts, eyes squinting.

“No Doctor..”

Jaemin hums, adding extra notes. “And still no heat.. highly peculiar. I’m going to have to open you up and see if something could be blocking the passageway for your slick. It’s highly uncommon but I have read of hybrids with an extra flesh of muscle, tightens up the cervix.”

“Like.. inside?” You asked through clenched teeth. Knowing better than to ask a professional gynecologist such a stupid question. Sighing and shutting your eyes, you try to relax, nodding. “Okay.”

“Do you need to use the restroom before we get started?” The sound of antibacterial soap squishes between his gloved fingers. Drying off with a paper towel before turning back around. 

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry about needing to pee if you can’t control your bladder. It’s quite common to orgasm or release fluid while being examined.” He smiles too nicely. Dragging himself closer between your parted legs. His hands reach for the end of your gown, folding it up. Shooting your eyes open to stare at the brightly lit ceiling, you can only hope he can’t hear your heart beating out of your chest at a manic pace.

“Do you not grow hair?” He asks, bending in closer.

“Huh?!”

“You have no hair.” He says flatly. Gloved hands landing softly on your inner thighs. “Or did you remove the hair yourself?”

“Oh, I.. I did it.” You speak shyly, wishing you could cover your face. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of and you know that, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling overwhelmed. The Doctor’s hands feel large and warm on your inner thighs even through the material of his vinyl gloves. Knowing you’re fully exposed to him awakens a sensation of heat in your stomach, clenching your eyes shut to ignore it.

“Do you orgasm, bunny?” Dr. Na’s tone deepens, huskier. Clearing his throat as he softly pets the soft skin lining your inner thighs. 

“N-no, I’ve tried. I don’t know, I-I think I’m broken, Doctor.” You can’t stop a whimper from ending your sentence. Biting down on your lip, you try to not breathe through your nose. His smells stronger now, all around you, dizzying even.

“You’re not broken bunny..” he practically coo’s. Smiling from ear to ear, he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. “And I’m going to take care of everything for you, don’t you worry those pretty fluffy ears.”

The closer his fingers trail to your outer folds, the more you struggle to not squirm. Clutching your hands together to stop your hips from rising. His slicked fingers drag down the smooth skin covering your vulva, slowly stroking up and down to coat all of your core with lube. “Gosh, you’re really pretty everywhere bunny..”

“Doctor.. I feel..” squinting your eyes open at the lights over your head, you have to shut them closed immediately. The blur above you, spinning the texture of the wall in your line of sight. 

“Relax relax,” he hushes you, pushing your vulva spread open with his thumbs. The sounds of a hiss follows, sucking at the backs of his teeth. “My my my bunny, you are lovely. I was really hoping for a virgin, but you’re so tight.” He whistles, licking across his sharp fangs as he inspects your clenched hole. An unusually dry sight of flesh.

“My head.. I can’t keep m-my eyes open.” 

“My scents too powerful for a small little prey like you.” He smirks, pulling your labia folds apart. “I’m going to need to open you up really good before we can complete this examination.”

Powerful is an understatement, the more turned on he grows, the more his aroma weakens you. Limp and glued to the table, you struggle to keep your eyes halfway open. “W-will it hurt?”

“No baby, I’d never hurt you.” Dragging the split end of his tongue across his upper lip, he begins to smear lube between your folds. Skirting his digits across your clit, all but missing your entrance that stays locked up tight. “Dr. Na’s going to make you feel so good.” 

The burning itch in your stomach rides up to your chest, breathing out heavier and faster. He works at massaging and caressing your labia, gently stroking the flesh around your clit. “Have to get you nice and wet first, wet enough to open up this pussy.”

“I feel weird, Doctor.” You pant fearfully, shutting your eyes to relieve yourself of the bright lights. “Hot.”

“That’s good darling, that’s a great sign. You let Dr. Na handle this, I’ll have you pissing out an orgasm across this floor in no time.” Sweat lines his brow as he begins to build up speed with ease. Tracing his digits between your lubricated folds until they begin to swell with blood. A pleased click of his tongue resounds and he pinches your clit between two of his fingers. Slowly rubbing your cunt with one hand as he begins to work on your bundle of nerves, hitting each one with his soft expert motions.

“Dr. Na! T-that feels—different!” You croon, legs shaking.

Sucking at his bottom lip, he can’t break his focus away from stimulating your clit. Holding your folds apart to watch your hole for even a small sign of opening up. He pinches and massages, working your hardened nub from side to side until you finally relax. “Fuck.” He whispers, hungrily licking at his mouth. “I’m going to stretch you out now.”

“Wh-what??” You ask almost deliriously. Had he not already started?!

The tip of his finger presses to your budding entrance. Lightly applying pressure to see if you’ll give and let him in. Success shouts in his mind as he glides in up to his first knuckle, only one finger but it’s enough to make his head spin. Cocks aching inside of the confines of his snug fitted slacks. He has to bite down on his teeth to stop himself from yelling out at the way your cunt sucks around just the tip of one of his digits.

“Relax for me.” Shoving his free hand higher, he presses against your stomach just beneath your navel. Adding the weight of his thick palm to keep your lower back in place as he begins to glide the rest of his digit inside of you. There’s no way you’ll be able to take one of his cocks like this, let alone two.

Glancing over his shoulder at the tray by his side, he eyes the shiny dilator he set out. A little extra help won’t hurt. “You’re so tight, bunny.” He has to mention it again. Growing frustrated and hornier by the second. His finger fully fits inside of you, experimentally pressing against your soft warm walls. “I’m going to have to dilate you.”

“Dr. Na, please..” you sigh, head spinning. The scent of bergamot burning through each of your senses. The taste of a snake hybrid seeping down your throat. 

Freeing his finger, he picks up the tool to prepare it. Using nearly half of the bottle of lube to cover his hands and the dilator, he turns back to observe your cunt. Gleaming shiny and swelled up, perfect for taking cock.

“This won’t hurt if you just relax, bunny. Listen to what I say, alright?” The tip of the dilator eases inside of you without a problem. Thinner than the Doctor’s finger, if not the same size. He sucks in a wet breath of air, relieving his tongue of the saliva that won’t stop pooling. “Good job, so proud of you bun. You’re making Dr. Na soo happy.” A more sadistic smile stretches the bottom half of his face. Pushing the devices button to expand inside of you. 

The push against your insides has you arching up with a shout, clutching onto the sides of the table. “N-no! Pull it o-out!” You cry. Toes pointing out stiffly, unable to remove your legs from the stirrups keeping you held in place. “Jaemin!”

“Come on bunny, don’t let me down now.” He says gruffly, bending closer to look inside of you with the dilator now fully expanded. The sound of a ragged breath covered in saliva emits from beneath your gown. And the Doctor's broad shoulders shake, reaching two of his digits inside of the tool to measure how open you are. 

“Please Dr. Na! Please take it o-out!” You beg again, full on crying now. No amount of lube could have prepared you for the stretch of the dilator, not after only one finger to prep you. Jerking your hips up shoots a tinge of pain up your spine, falling back down with a wail. “Please!”

Grunting as he squeezes a third finger inside, Jaemin drags his tongue across his mouth. Pushing back and snapping off his gloves. He shoots up from the chair to grab your neck, baring his teeth. “Bunny.” He bites out, the collar of his shirt loosened and unbuttoned. Silver and black scales on display lining the sides of his throat. “What happened to my good and well behaved little prey? Have you gained confidence that I won’t eat you alive so easily?”

Ripping off his glasses, he tosses them aside, blinking away the gray contacts hiding his viscous serpent eyes. “Now, we can continue to play nice,” squeezing your neck, he drags the back of his scaled hand down your soft cheek. “Or we can play my way.”

Innate and instinctive alarm to protect yourself goes off, throwing your head back to scream. “Help!! HELP!!”

Dr. Na rolls his eyes, slapping his heavy palm over your mouth. “Fine. I gave you a choice.”

His yellow iris expands, taking over the whites of his eyes. Unleashing his sharp fangs, his long split tongue snaps and slithers before your face. Cracking akin to a whip to instill how threatening he is to your existence. Tears drip out onto his hand, screaming and shoving at his chest. The snake hybrid dominates without effort, keeping your neck held down effortlessly as he grabs your jaw and forces your mouth open.

Thick wads of what appears to be saliva dribbles and rolls off the tips of his tongue into your mouth. Incinerating your flesh the second it meets your lips and continues to pour out filling your mouth up. 

Poison. Fucking snake venom. 

The burning hits your throat, scolding hot, acidic, leaving numbness behind. The last thought you’re able to process before the venom seeps into your veins is death. Death at the hands of a predator that outsmarted you, tale as old as time. The predator trapping the stupid bunny hybrid, feeding off of you as no more than a snack.

Laving at his lips, he smiles and pats your cheeks. Panting for breath as he takes in your blissed out drugged expression. “Now, where were we, bunny?”

Quietly humming, he releases the dilator, whistling at the way your cunt gapes now. “Let’s get back to business, shall we darling?” He unties your hospital gown, throwing it aside to reveal your breast. Sucking at his teeth and cupping them, he nods to himself. “Such a shame, such a gorgeous prey, and you’ve never known the joys of cumming on a cock.” Biting on one of your nipples, he works on licking and sucking until it rubs stiffly against the roof of his mouth. Alternating to the other after some minutes. “You can trust that Dr. Na has a 100% success rate.”

Standing before you, he throws off his cover up, slowly unbuttoning his top to show off his built chest and shoulders. “I saw the way you were looking at me bunny, you prey are all the same. So helpless and pitiful, but still desperate to be loved and taken.”

“D-doctor..” you say, out of body. Floating on a cloud, reaching forward to grab his bare chest for something to hold on to, fearing now that you may fly away. 

“My sweet delicate bunny.” He grins arrogantly, lifting your hands up to his mouth. Dragging his forked tongue between your fingers, kissing at your knuckles. “Let me take care of everything.”

Pushing you to lay back again, he smooths your hair out of your face. Softly dragging his fingers through your ears. “Love how fluffy you are.”

Dr. Na’s hands travel down your shoulders, chest, pinching your breast on the way down past your waist and stomach. He smooths over your hips, cupping and squeezing, lowering his palms to your outer thighs. “Bet your bunny tails frantically twitching, so excited.”

“Nnnghh..” you drowsily groan, dropping your head to watch him move to your side and cup your cunt. His other hand returning to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Nice and relaxed, pretty.” Gliding his digits between your lubricated folds, he taps at your entrance. Teasing and circling around your hole fluttering under his fingertips. “That’s it.”

Easing three of his digits inside of you, he begins to thrust inside of your pussy with less tenacity. Less worried about any pain you could feel with his venom racing through your veins. He pumps his fingers in and out of you with no goal other than to feel your cunt clamp around him. To pour a mess of arousal out onto this hospital floor. “Come on.” Gritting his teeth, he turns to watch your awestruck face. Panting weakly, eyes rolling up and back to look at him. The silent desperation to break through that roadblock that’s been in your way. To bring down all of your fears and inhibitions, every insecurity. 

God he wants to fuck you, to ruin your pussy and mind. Leave you so damaged that no other hybrid will ever be enough.

There’s no prey in the world Jaemin’s ever come across that he can’t fuck and destroy. More determined to take you to an ultimate high given your special case, disorder, whatever the fuck it may be. “Still so tight.” He licks at his lips, thirsty for a taste. 

That same rapid fire of heat exploding from your stomach hits the surface and boils over. Tipping your head back to let out a moan, you feel blinded by the white lights above, the cold heat melting down your face. And for the first time the release you’ve seeked for years finally hits. Thick fingers jab at your cervix, pushing roughly against a spongy spot inside of you over and over again. Wetness trickles out and Jaemin’s eyes burst open wide in awe.

“D-doctor! Oh m-my God!” You cry. Dropping your mouth open in silent disbelief. His hand shoves down from your stomach, slapping at your clit. 

“Let it go baby, let it all go.” He grunts, forearm jerking madly. “Fucking dripping.”

Everything you’ve dreamt of since starting this journey dissolves, freeing your body of tension and worry. A coil breaks free from your gut, pushing up past your chest and you scream out in pleasure. Toes curling as your hips shoot up and slick flies out around the Doctor’s fingers.

“Ahh!” The pleasures too much, sucking your stomach in as you collapse. Shaking your head from side to side and Jaemin doesn’t let up. Pressing his bicep onto your stomach he lodges you in place, continuing to fuck your cunt open until every last drop of your orgasm drenches his shirt and leaves the floor freshly mopped over.

It’s as if a sprinkler has set off inside of you, and Dr. Na couldn’t be more proud. Smiling large and maniacally as he retracts his fingers and pats your cunt lovingly. “I knew my bunny could do it.”

“D-doctor, I feel.. f-feel,” you stutter, lips trembling. “Hot.”

“That’s your heat my love. You’re ready to be properly bred and mated now.” Unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, he wipes off his arms and chest of sweat and slick, throwing the soaked garment aside before turning to his seat to roll between your thighs. “You’ve opened up quite nicely.”

The venom shouldn’t numb you for too long, no longer than 15 minutes. Just enough to get you to this point of pleasure, too struck by each new sensation and feeling to fully understand how wrong this is. That no doctor should ever behave this way with a patient.

“My h-heat?” You ask, sounding hopeful. Pouty with your tear stained cheeks and wide shining eyes. Your eyebrows twist together as you look down at him, full of concern. “I’m in heat?”

Licking at his now very plump and pink lips, he eagerly nods. Laying his palms on your upper thighs to knead and squeeze at. “Highly common for bunny hybrids to experience their first heat during a prey attack. You see, fear and pleasure go hand in hand. You Doe’s love to play the victim especially, bouncing around with your little fluffed tails taunting us..”

He hoists your hips up higher suddenly, sliding one of his hands beneath your ass to tweak and ruffle the ball of fur at the top of your perky buttcheeks. “I need to taste you to make sure nothing’s wrong with your slick now.”

“T-taste?” You flinch. Shivering from your tail up your spine. Dragging your gaze across Dr. Na’s blushing cheeks, his sweat slickened skin, and his hung open mouth. The tips of his tongue slithering between his teeth as he watches you.

“It’s been too long now for you to go through your first heat, we must take every precaution.” He convinces you, chin tilted in as he gazes upon your frightened face. The thrill of the hunt and control over your mind tickles through his cock. Twitching inside of his slacks again as a reminder to hurry the hell up. “No Buck will mate a rotted Doe.”

Lifting your hands to your face to bite your nails, you nod and agree for him to do whatever examinations he needs to. Anything to ensure you’re not some defunct hybrid, that you are worthy of being mated..

“This won’t hurt one bit.” His tongue flickers out, igniting that same heat in your stomach from before. Now more intense as you really take the time to look over the scales adorning Dr. Na’s biceps, partially trailing over his collarbone and chest. His tight stomach rising and flexing with each ragged breath he takes. The way his pants cling to his thighs like a second skin in his seated position. A large bulge suffocating right in the middle between his hips.

Lowering his nose to your mound, he slowly drags the tip across while keeping his eyes directed upwards to watch you. His long tongue dragging down between your folds. Slowly slithering between as he groans against your cunt and sends vibrations through your lower half.

“H-how do I taste?” You ask curiously. Hypnotized by his thin sharp black iris. 

The sound of metal clinking distracts you for a second as he releases your legs from the stirrups. Hooking under your knees to throw them onto his shoulders, he pushes forward and thrusts the tip of his tongue at your entrance. Pulling back to lick across his glistening lips and slicked coated chin.

“Tastes like dinner.” He winks. Setting off your worry once again before diving in. Long tongue wriggling through your clamped hole, lapping at the sides as he sinks in deep.

“D-doctor!..”

The length of his tongue reaches deep inside past your inner walls. Flicking the tips against your cervix as he begins to collect venom at the back of his throat to coat the inside of your cunt with. Mimicking an aphrodisiac to heighten your sex drive, making you more than desperate for cock. Knowing your head will clear up soon, he has to take extra measures to keep you drunk for his cocks.

Slurping the slick that dollops onto his bottom lip, he pulls back to gently trace between your folds. Slowly building up to firmer licks, running right over your swollen bud. “A-ahh, Dr. N-na!” You puff breathily. The heat squeezing in your belly, tensing through your limbs.

“Come on bunny, call me Jaemin.” Slowly licking across his lips, he glances up at you. His heavy gaze full of darkness and sin. “Wanna hear you moaning and screaming my name.”

“J-Jaemin.” You nod quickly. Breathing hard enough for your breasts to rise and fall rapidly. 

“Feeling good?” Pursing his lips together, he kisses up your inner thighs. Never shifting his heated gaze away from yours. Latching his mouth back onto your clit, he keeps his intense gaze on your weakened one. Sucking one of his fingers inside of his mouth, he spits out more venom. Popping it free to circle over your wrinkled little rim.

“Jaemin!” You jolt up. Clutching onto the table's arm rests. “Th-that’s my—“

“Need to open you up here too bunny.” Kissing your swollen clit, he drags his puffy lips down. Sucking at your hole as his finger teases your rim. Lathering his venom around to relax your muscles. “Have to make sure nothings wrong down here.”

“In m-my—“

“Your pretty little asshole.” He says shamelessly. Slurping the slick mixed with his venom from your hole. Dipping his sporked tongue in and out over and over again as he teases your rim. The tip of his finger pushing down on your taut wrinkled skin, allowing himself to dip in just past his nail bed. 

Wrinkling your face together, you try to nod. Convinced that the Doctor only has your best interest in mind. The odd discomfort between your buttcheeks fades away, falling to the pleasure building inside of you. The smooth wetness of his long tongue, how it flicks and tickles inside of you. His chilling gaze, keeping you on the edge of fear and desire. The combination lifts your hips from the table, softly rutting your clit against his tongue as he returns to wrap around your bundle of nerves. 

“J-Jaem—“ moaning raggedly, you grip onto the chair's arms harder. Digging your nails in as he ruthlessly sucks, sneaking his digit inside of your asshole as pleasure takes over your face. Eyes rolled back leaving nothing but whites behind, mouth hung open panting and shaking.

“Yeah.” He blows across your wet cunt. Finger curling up inside of your extra tight hole, suctioning wet and hot around his digit. “Let go bunny, stop holding yourself back.” He soothes, returning to work on your clit as he squeezes in another finger. 

“Ah!” Reaching down to scratch your fingers through his hair, you grasp tightly. Yanking tufts between your hands through his fervent licks. Jaemin slides his tongue all the way back in, using his other hand to rub your clit as he wiggles through. Waving his tongue against your walls, he thrusts inside of your ass simultaneously. All of it too much, racing you to the brink of over sensitivity.

Let go.

Stop holding yourself back.

The replay of his raspy voice melds into the wet sounds gushing from your core. Thighs shaking around his head as you scream out and roughly pull at his scalp. He sucks and laps at all of your squirting slick, jabbing his fingers inside of your ass faster and harder. His face drenched with your release, and still dragging his tongue through your sensitive folds.

“D-doc—Jaemin! Please no! H-hurts! S’too much!” You whine, pulling at his hair with all of the energy you have left. Body drained of life from your orgasm, like a pool of jelly as you struggle to tighten your fists.

Lapping your pussy clean, he grunts, lifting his intense piercing eyes back to yours. “You’re fucking delectable, darling. I could really eat you up.”

Shining his fangs at you, his tongue drags across them, popping his fingers out of your ass to suck on. Gliding up and down each one slowly as he moans and watches your distraught overstimulated gaze. Drawn into his hypnotic scent, dangerous words, alluring aura. 

If this is the way you die, you can’t help to think it’s one hell of a way to go..

“A little more,” he mutters, shoving your thighs open to set you back on the stirrups. “Stay just like that bunny.” Cupping your hips, he aims your asshole up higher. Still so small and shyly wrinkled up beneath your swollen pussy, making him salivate as he lowers his face and drags his nose across your rim.

“Nnghh.. noo, d-don’t, not there.” You mewl, turning your face away while still watching his every move from the corner of your eye.

Adding more spit and venom, he glides three digits inside with a bit of struggle. Gritting his teeth imagining one of his cocks in place of his fingers. There’s no way any of those tiny dick useless Buck’s you’ve fucked before have ever been in here. “You’re really doing so good. Couldn’t be more proud of you right now.” He says roughly, his voice more strained. Hissing as he uses his strength to push his fingers apart inside of you. “F-fuck, bunny.”

His soft words and the sensual feeling coming from his fingers has your head spinning. This shouldn’t feel so good, right? Why does it feel so good? You can’t stop yourself from moaning, bringing your hand to your mouth to bite on your palm. You croon, lower back arching, riding on the size of his digits stretched apart inside of your ass.

“You like it deep.” He hums throatily. Eyes growing wide as he focuses on your rim opening up for him, dropping another wad of spit inside. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Jaemin’s tongue creeps between his fingers, furrowing his eyebrows as he dips in for a taste. Your cunt couldn’t have been sweeter, but your ass, assuming you’re still untouched.. it’s damn near holy. Spurting saliva around his tongue as he drags in and out like a mad man, desperate to feel your insides one way or another. His predatory instinct screams to take a bite, sink his teeth into the meaty flesh of your ass. Lashing his tongue at the inside of your asshole, he pulls free and shouts. “Need to be inside of you right now.”

Sweat accumulates on your chest despite the cool room temperature, throttled into your first heat with the assistance of snake venom, you can’t comprehend most of what the Doctor’s been mumbling. Going on and on about how delicious your slick is, how tight you’ll squeeze his cocks.

Cocks being the keyword you should really catch onto. “Dr. Na, I feel d-dizzy.” Rubbing over your face, you brush down to your chest. Palming across your hardened nipples back and forth. “And hot, all over. Especially here.” 

Reaching between your thighs, you smooth down past your mound. Hissing as you rub over your clit, still hard and inflamed with blood. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks coyly, knowing full well you’ve lost yourself to your own primal instincts. Craving to be filled with something, even if you continue to have any doubts. “Does it hurt? My sweet bunny.” He coo’s, placing his hand over yours. The heat radiating off of your body melting his skin. “Do you need me to make you feel better?” 

“Please.. please, h-help me..” 

Jaemin can taste the venom dripping from his fangs, fighting himself to not roll his eyes every time you beg for his help. God if only you could see how helpless you are, how pathetic and easy to capture you are. Handing yourself over to your predator on a fucking silver platter, you’re the best type of hybrid, his favorite.

“I’ll do more than that.” He mumbles quietly under his breath, locking your legs back into the stirrups. 

Taking a step back, he finally unbuckles his belt, sighing as he unzips his slacks and his cocks can breathe at last. Sticky and hot inside of his boxers where precum had leaked onto every once dry inch of area. “This shouldn’t hurt too much, bunny. One last exam to make sure you’re ready to be mated..”

Dr. Na’s chest and stomach muscles flex as he works to discard his bottoms. His veiny hands moving slowly, squeezing his eyes shut and tucking in his lip as he peels away his boxers. The sight of his fully bare figure jolts something inside of your stomach. Squeezing out a wad of slick that drips onto the floor, you whimper and shake your legs to get out of the chair. “D-doctor! No!”

Dropping and kicking off his boxers with a groan, he grabs onto his shafts using both hands. The sight before you is absolutely obscene, horrifying even. Thick hands circle and stroke his cocks, dropping his head back and grunting. “One last test, then you’ll be all done with this.”

Dr. Na eyes your dripping hole, slick dribbling down past your rim onto the floor. Pouring down like rain droplets as they land in a puddle beneath your ass. He growls, reaching for your hips to haul your lower half almost off of the edge of the table, setting you into the perfect position.

“A-ah! Doctor!” The vinyl material of the examination chair burns against your skin. Sticking to you the more you sweat. Peering at his face nervously, your shaking hands reach out to grab onto something, his chest, shoulders. Anything to assure you that this is real, that a snake hybrid stands before you fully nude; tracing his eyes down your body to the heated flesh between your legs.

Tugging on his cocks a few more times, he grits his teeth. Lowering his nose to your scent gland, his nostrils drag up and down, emitting more of his smokey scent to calm you. Tempted to bite you, leave some type of mark along your delicate throat, he nips at your skin. Lapping the sore area before you can complain. “Tastes so good everywhere, don’t you bunny.” 

Lining his lengths up to your holes, he licks up your jaw to your ear. Kissing and mumbling sweet words to calm your choked staggered breaths. “Don’t forget, you’re made for this.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the first prod of his tips pushing against your holes. No amount of stretching you, licking you, fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The Doctor’s thick width burns as his cockheads press forward to penetrate past your tight holes. None of the Buck’s you’d been with in the past could compare to even half of one of his dicks, let alone two. 

A string of curses drips from his mouth, huffing against your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours. “Open up for me darling, let me in. Be a good bunny.”

Continuing to slowly push himself inside of you, he watches the tears slowly pour from your pure harmless eyes. So soft and sweet, gentle. Your fluffy ears framing your face so innocently, he can’t stop himself. Dragging his fingers through your furry ears, he pulls on them playfully. Smirking at the gasp you let out, the way your eyes roll up for a moment. Tugging again, he forces his cockhead past your rim and cunt, grinding his teeth together.

“Gonna fill you up so good, bunny.” Jaemin drags the tip of one of your ears to his lips, sucking on it the same way you had done earlier. Eyes fluttering shut as he pushes in inch by slow inch. Cradled by the sound of your cries and whimpers, how your breathing stops whenever he sucks on your fluffy ear; coating your fur with his saliva. Leaving the trail on his scent stuck on you permanently, from your blood infiltrated by his venom. To your womb soon to be filled with his cum.

The snap of taut stretched skin around his lower cock jerks his hips forward. Halting to suck deep breaths in through his nose. His hands drop down to your arms, squeezing as he maneuvers them beneath you to wrap you up in a tight hug. The size of his body crushes you in, stuffed to the brim with his dicks filling your ass and pussy. The Doctor circles his hips, savoring the way your holes clamp around him, burying his last inch into the hilt.

“Jaemin,” you pant, drowsy eyes flickering up. Reaching between your bodies, you rub over the bulge pushing out under your navel. The fat tip of his cock pressing against your insides so deep, you have to feel it to believe it. Mouth dropping in awe as you trace the shape of him, reaching lower to drag your fingers around his size probing through the flesh of your stomach. “Feel you, r-right here.”

“Fuck.” The euphoric high look on your face can only come from getting fucked. His hips twitch, sucking on the drool inside of his mouth to concentrate on anything other than how much you're squeezing around him. How he can feel your dainty fingers jerking him off through the skin lining the bottom of your stomach. 

Forcing himself to calm down with deep breaths, he tries to let you get used to the painful throbbing inside of your ass. Tries to let you get used to his fat girth filling up your cunt, slowly pushing himself side to side to accommodate your tight holes for himself. A dull ache rips throughout his pelvis, climbing up to his stomach in a coiling spiral, and he can’t stop himself anymore. Gathering your chest to press snuggly against his, he pulls your back off the chair. Thrusting out only a few inches before burying his lengths in deep. “A-agh!” 

Dr. Na can feel it, the way your asshole grips around him trying to push him out while your tight pussy sucks against him. The difference stirs heat up to his chest, pulling out a few more inches before plummeting forward again. Losing his sense with that second thrust, he savors these last fNating minutes inside of you for the first time. Eyes rolling back as he draws out to the tip and begins to ruthlessly fuck you.

The scream you let out only encourages his hips, slamming forward faster. Hurting at first to be taken so roughly, fucked in your ass for the first time, but your heat takes over after a minute more of push and pull. The resistance he was met with disappearing as he sheathes each inch inside of your holes without falter. The more he made you take it, the better it felt to be fucked with abandon. 

The beating of his heart pounded against your chest, rocking you down onto his lengths. Against the chair, ramming his hips between your trapped opened legs with free will. Reaching one of your hands around his neck, you squeeze at his nape, scratching your nails down his scales. Screaming through your gritted teeth as he somehow fucks you even faster.

“Jaemin!” Rubbing your fingers over the shape of his cock bulging through your stomach, you cry out. Dropping your face into his neck to further intoxicate yourself with his hedonistic scent. 

The build up of something hot and mind numbing spills over inside of you, clenching down on him from your ass to your pussy; you try to kick free. Squirting around his cock fucking inside of your cunt past your orgasm, slicks rains down onto his thighs, by his feet. Spraying your aroused scent all over the hospital room.

“S-stop!” You whine despairingly. Digging your nails into the back of his neck. Dragging your other arm around him to scratch down his spine as he continues to fuck through your gripping over sensitivity. “Dr. Na! H-hurts! Please!”

The only sounds entering Jaemin’s head right now are his snake, lashing at him to fuck, breed, claim. Take take and take some more. Loud moans and pained gasps play around him as he fucks into you animalistically, unsure if they’re coming from you or himself. Maybe a mixture of your combined pleasure, too drunk off of his own need to overpower you, he thrusts in deep.

Reaching back to unclasp your legs and throw your thighs up against you, he slams forward. Cock burying to the hilt, locking his biceps under the pits of your knees. Bending you in half as he chases his orgasm and more of your slick dribbles out, shooting at his stomach and balls. They clap wet and loud against the top of your ass, nearly hanging off of his cocks with how far he’s pulled you off of the table.

“Doctor!” You sob into his neck, another orgasm ripping free from your body. He locks around your back, crushing you to his chest in a full mating press. The look in his eyes near demonic as he raises up and stands straight, throwing your ass and pussy down onto his cocks. The resounding clap of wet skin on skin pounds throughout the room, bouncing off these sanitized hospital walls. And he fucks into you at a deranged pace, led by the sound of your breath growing shallow, the silent cries that struggle to exit your dried up scratchy throat.

“F-fuck!” He squeezes out through trembling lips. Laying you against the table once his thighs begin to burn. He buries inside once, twice, thrusts growing sloppy as he captures your mouth with his plump lips and lets out a howled scream. 

The swell of his knots shoots your tired eyes wide open. Irises shaking as your eyes well up with tears and the pain of being stretched to accept his knot pushing against your abused holes erupts through your body. Struggling to breath with his mouth latched to yours, tongue slithering past your tonsils. 

“There you go..” he looks down. Forehead covered with a thick gleam of sweat. His handsome features reddened, hair a mess from all of your pulling. Grinding his cocks inside of you, he shivers and twitches as cum flows out and stuffs you from both ends. “All better now, bunny.”

Dr. Na’s shoulders continue to tremble, gripping your waist so tight, nails cutting into your skin. Both of his cocks stay locked in place, knots fully expanded inside of both of your holes.

“Jaemin?”

Bright yellow eyes snap up to your face, his sharp teeth chatter, and he loudly swallows. The fear you felt before completely disintegrates, only worried now that he’ll leave.. never to be seen again. 

“Are you going to kill me now?” You ask almost pitifully. Frowning, you clutch your hands to your chest. Too ashamed to look down at the area where you’re still connected. 

“No, bunny, never.” He smiles, peeling his hands off your stomach to cup your cheeks. “I’m going to mate you.”

A new fear of the abomination growing in your stomach arises, shaking your head. “We can’t!”

“Shhh shhh.” Wiping away your tears, he kisses the tip of your nose. Gently dragging his lips lower to graze your bitten over pout. Circling his hips, he roughly digs into your waist for leverage to push his knots in deeper. “Dr. Na will take care of everything.”

One good slice had been all it took to do him in, a slice, and a gruesome infection that followed, taKing a toll on the old pirate’s heart in a way Johnny could never have imagined possible.

“Before I die, there’s more I must tell you,” the Pirate King insists, reaching for Johnny’s wrist, which he holds in an iron grip despite his weakened state.

Johnny doesn’t have the heart to argue, he’ll hear his adopted father’s dying remarks if it’s the last thing he ever does.

“Confidence is key, my boy,” the Pirate King insists, a shiver running through him. There’s a sheen of sweat across his prominent brow, a sign of the fever that’s been killing him for days. He takes in a ragged breath before continuing. “The secret of the sirens is that they only prey-” he coughs, “only prey on pirates and sailors who have sins and baggage. This is a secret you too must pass down to your successor one day.”

Johnny’s not sure what to think as he grabs a cup of water to hold out to the old man, helping him drink. Sure, Johnny’s heard of sirens and mermaids, but he’s never actually seen any with his own two eyes. These must just be tall tales that his Captain’s exhausted mind is clenching at in the end- looking for something mythical to soothe him before he makes the leap into the great beyond. 

“Regrets can’t have a place in your life, John,” the Pirate King continues, pushing the cup of water away and sending it clanging to the wooden floor of the ship. “You can’t be King if you feel regret, tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Johnny assures his Captain, reaching for the cup. There’s no use wiping the water up, afterall, the wooden decks of the ship are worn and speckled with the signs of years of use. It’s a ship that has been thoroughly loved, and Johnny is already considering the option of getting one of his own to note the start of his pirate reign.

“You don’t understand,” the Pirate King sighs, relaxing back against his pillows, “but that’s alright. You’ll understand soon enough.” He takes a haggard breath, and Johnny watches his old weathered hands clutch at his bedding. “There’s a rite of passage every new Pirate King must take. You’ll sail to the Forbidden Island Chain, the Selkie Islands, where you’ll find the sirens and mermaids from the old tales. You’ll have to prove yourself once you’re there, prove your lack of regrets. Only the one true Pirate King, who is confident in all of his doings, can withstand their deadly songs.”

One: 

When the old Pirate King had first told Johnny of his task, he hadn’t quite believed it. However, after his passing, Doyoung, the scribe/navigator/book keeper had approached Johnny to tell him this was very much a real rite of passage, and that he’d been gifted with explicit coordinates as well as reading materials to use to complete the journey.

Johnny had been an avid reader growing up, and while he’d read the stories of mermaids and sirens with extreme interest as a lad, he’d thought of the contents as more fiction than fact. It’s interesting now, to be a man of twenty-nine, rereading the books of his youth with a newfound view of reality.

The islands they’re headed to are a no man’s land. For as long as recorded pirate lore can remember, the Selkie islands have been home to mermaids and sirens. While many don’t believe in these mythical beasts, pirates can be a superstitious lot, and any who have risked the voyage, haven’t returned to tell their story. It’s as they always say, dead men tell no tales. 

Sure, sirens and mermaids have supposedly ventured away from the islands, looking for men and sailors to drown, but the reports of that have been few and far inbetween in these past years, especially since the British Royal Navy has made a larger foothold as far as pirateering is concerned.

In the last leg of their trip, Johnny calls his men to the deck of The Neo. “This is our maiden voyage,” Johnny calls above the familiar sound of the sea. “We’re a new crew, and I don’t expect to have full loyalty yet, despite my standing as the future Pirate King. Some of you must be wondering about our destination. I’m sure you’ve all heard the tales of mermaids and sirens- and for the safety of everyone, I want to make sure we go into this with a full arsenal, which means, we all must know our enemy.”

Johnny turns his attention to Doyoung, who steps forward carrying a few of Johnny’s top reading materials.

“There’s a difference between sirens and mermaids,” Johnny starts, picking the first book up, “they’re not the same thing, although, that’s been lost as common knowledge in the past years. Mermaids are the easy ones, half fish, half woman, and as alluring as anything we’ve ever seen. They will draw you to the water, whether that be the edge of the boat, or the edge of land, and when you’re close enough, they grab you and drown you.”

“Do they eat us or fuck us?” one person calls, and Johnny looks up to see Lee Donghyuck blinking up at him. “I just mean, I’ve heard both,” the youngest pirate says, defending himself as a chorus of agreed murmurs erupts through Johnny’s new crew. 

“That’s a good question,” Johnny admits. “One that is undetermined, as no survivors have ever come back from being dragged under the sea, and all other opinions are just conjecture.”

“Pff, conjecture,” someone scoffs. 

Johnny knows he’s a lot more well read than anyone on his crew. He spent many many voyages as a young man in the old Pirate King’s library. The Pirate King had always been grooming him for the top position, and there’s a certain amount of smarts that have to be shown in order to excel at the role. Johnny is no ordinary pirate, which is what sets him apart from all others.

“Sirens, on the other hand,” Johnny continues, “are said to have been ladies in waiting to Persephone, from the Greek myths. When she was snatched away by Hades, her mother, Demeter, gave her ladies in waiting wings to search for her. Sirens are angelic creatures, in beauty, and in voice. They lure not with good looks alone, but with songs that bewitch. If they can, they’ll steal your soul right from your own mouth.”

Johnny knows now that a siren’s power has to do with the regrets you hold, which is why he’s spend the past two months forgiving himself for any and all misdemeanors. 

“In the ancient Greek texts, they tell of beeswax used in The Odyssey, shoved into ears to make you unable to hear the siren’s song, that’s what we’ll do now as we approach the final day of our journey.”

“What?” someone bellows.

“Doyoung will hand out the beeswax, and you will all hopefully be immune to death unless you decide to wander to the ship’s edge and give yourself to the sirens and mermaids.”

“What about you, Captain?” Mark Lee speaks up. God, he’s too soft to be a pirate at times, but Johnny had hand picked him for a reason. He’s more thoughtful than most- in fact, the whole crew was chosen for a variety of reasons, and Johnny wouldn’t sail with anyone else.

“Part of my trial is to face the siren’s song unprotected, to prove that I’m the one true Pirate King,” Johnny explains. 

Doyoung has begun to hand out the beeswax, and one look at his unamused face tells Johnny that his faithful scribe doesn’t believe in this whole little farce. It’s more than likely that due to a lack of belief, numerous men will fall under the spell of a mermaid of siren, and that’s something Johnny had accepted before they set sail.

No, Johnny loves his crew already, but he’d be lying if he said they were anything other than exactly what they are: pirates. 

Two: 

There’s a flurry of commotion among the palace halls today, whispers of the death of the old Pirate King, and the rise of a new one. 

This isn’t something that happens frequently, and you’re at an age where the arrival of a new Pirate King can impact you directly.

You’re a Siren Princess, and out of all of your sisters, you’re your fathers favourite. As you walk to the great hall, you’re aware that the likelihood is you’ll be chosen to sing a song to the new Pirate King, as your mother had before you. 

The new ship is approaching with speed, and soon, you’re being whisked off by your ladies in waiting to get dressed the part. A silky white dress is strewn upon your form, hugging all the right curves, and accentuating all that your womanly body has to offer. The siren’s song is more than sung lyrics, it’s an entire performance, and the jewels that are set to adorn your form are part of it.

“He’s here!” one of your sisters declares as she barges into your room, a mischievous look on her face.

Everyone erupts into a fit of enthusiasm, and you’re ushered outside, where you join your father in the palace’s temple courtyard that looks down to the cove.

It’s true, there’s a large pirate ship just entering the bay, bearing the skull and crossbones symbol of pirates on it’s proudly waving flag.

Your wings waver at the notion of flight, and you lick your lips in preparation, feeling a flurry of excitement beginning to build within your breast. 

“Be good, my sweet,” your father encourages you. “Test the man.”

“I will,” you promise, allowing him to squeeze your hand as one last sign of affection before you take flight. 

This first contact with the new Pirate King is a solitary mission, and you feel naked as your large, strong wings carry you from the mountain top and toward the pirate vessel in the bay. 

As you approach, your eagle eyes narrow in on a man waiting by the bow of the ship. He’s leaning on the rail, a grin on his face as he watches you draw near. He’s handsome, something you can’t deny as you hover just a few meters away.

He doesn’t look like a typical pirate. There’s no beard or missing eye. No, he has chiseled features, and a mischievous smile that almost threatens to take your breath away. His white tunic is open, and you sneak a glance at chiseled abs and skin that’s beautifully worn and tanned from years spent in the elements.

Despite his good looks, you have a job to do, and the man is patient as you begin your song. 

You’ve been preparing for this for years, and The Sister’s Song you’ve practiced is one of loss and grief, however, there’s a haunting beauty to it too, one that even your own people find hard to resist.

You sing your heart out, watching the new Pirate King carefully.

He smiles at your song, however, he doesn’t flinch a muscle. When your words die off, he lifts his hands to clap, and with that, you know that he’s fit to be the next pirate ruler. He’s a man with no regrets, a man who lives by the beat of his own drum, and he’s earned your respect. 

“That was a lovely song,” the man calls out to you.

“And what is your name, new would-be King?” you retort.

“I’m Captain John, but you can call me Johnny,” he grins. “And you?”

“I’m the Siren Princess, y/n.”

Johnny nods. “I know the past Pirate Kings have come for a song and left, however, I was hoping for more than a blessing today.”

“That’s presumptuous of you,” you note, feeling a smile work its way onto your face.

“Being presumptuous is part of being a King, I suppose,” Johnny muses. “I was hoping for a banquet. We’ve brought food and booze.”

“A banquet,” you repeat. Never before has a Pirate King dared come to your shores- this man is something different, and it intrigues you in a way you’ll never be able to express. “I accept. You can follow me to the water’s edge palace.”

“I do have one condition though.”

“And what is it that the new Pirate King suggests?” you enquire.

“Only that my men will be keeping their earplugs in. Many a pirate banquet have ended with blood in the water, but tonight, I’m hoping to be more civilized.”

“A civilized pirate,” you laugh. “That’s new.”

Three: 

Johnny knows that he’s bringing his men deep into danger, but this is something that he feels will be an important stepping stone. While past Pirate Kings have had an understanding with the mermaids and sirens, none had fed the flames to keep the fire going. No, in contrast to his past predecessors, Johnny thinks it’s important to have a better connection with sirens and mermaids, perhaps even diplomatic relations. 

Sure, it also helps that you’re absolutely stunning, and Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend more time with you- but his plans for a banquet had been set in stone before he’d laid his eyes on you, so Johnny has no regrets there.

As Johnny is taken to shore and shown into the waterside palace, the new King notes the way siren’s have different wings. 

While yours are white an angelic, others have more fairy like protrusions, and Johnny would bet his life that your wings are a sign of royal blood. They’re certainly the most durable, the largest, and the strongest, that he’s able to see, and when any others appear with similar wings, you’re quick to introduce them as family.

“I’m interested to meet your father. You said you’re a Siren Princess, so your father must be King,” Johnny notes as he follows you through the palace. It’s old marble, and while parts of it are eroding, Johnny can’t help but marvel at the way the structure straddles the lines of nature. There are all sorts of growing greens, as well as harmony between both earth and water elements- with streams interweaving below white marbled bridges. 

In these waterways, are mermaids, who look up at him with curiosity, their hair always falling just so- protecting their modesty, if creatures such as they even possess such a thing.

“He’ll come down from the mountain palace,” you tell Johnny. “You have to understand, no Pirate King has ever dared set foot here. This is not something we are accustomed to.”

“I can see that,” Johnny nods, turning to find Donghyuck leaning over the edge of the bridge, eyes locked with a particularly gorgeous mermaid, who’s creeping closer and closer from the stream below-

Johnny grabs the younger pirate by the scruff of the neck, tearing him away from a beautifully savage fate. He pushes Donghyuck towards Yuta, and the mermaids giggle. “Keep an eye on him,” Johnny warns the feral looking pirate. “And keep an eye on yourself while you’re at it.”

You smile at the interaction, and Johnny sighs. 

“You think this is funny, do you?”

“Just a show that we don’t need to be heard to be alluring, mermaids never rely on their voices, so your beeswax will do little to ward them off.”

“I guess I thought my men had more control,” Johnny admits, falling into step with you and casting a glance at the crew that follows, “although, I guess at the end of the day, they’re just pirates.”

“And you’re not?” you counter.

“I’m a pirate, it’s true,” Johnny confesses. “But I think we both know, no Pirate King is ever just a pirate.” 

“I will agree with you on that,” you nod. Although you’ve not met many pirates in your life, it’s clear that this one has a better head on his shoulders than most- in more than just the looks department. “The great hall is this way,” you continue, showing him through an archway that brings you to the outdoor meeting place.

It’s a true wonder of water and earth, a courtyard exposed to the night sky above. The moonlight illuminates the space, and littered throughout are pools with glassy water, mermaids perched like poised, picturesque, marble statues along their edges. Eyes that shine in the nightly gleam watch as you draw the Pirate King’s crew deeper into the lion’s den, beautiful predators, assessing every movement.

You hope this new Pirate King knows what he’s doing.

Four: 

By all accounts, the feast is going well. Roaring fires are cooking multiple boar that Johnny had brought specifically for this trip, as well as fish and other provisions they’d packed. The sirens and mermaids had provided more of the perishable items, and even though there are wooden bowls of salad littered here and there, it’s clear that everyone has a preference for the meat.

The mermaids in particular are quite savage with the way they eat, grabbing leg straight by the bone and tearing in with teeth that hadn’t looked as sharp before as they do now.

Johnny is on alert, despite his attempts to exude a calm and happy countenance. 

He feels as if he’s in a den of angelic looking demons, and he’s already caught numerous crewmates wandering just a little too close to the water’s edge. Hyuck in particular has been reared back by the scruff of his neck a grand total of five times, and Johnny’s beginning to think the young man simply has a death wish… that, or his brain resides in his cock.

From the way the mermaids giggle with each close call, it’s clear to Johnny that they’re testing him as the new Pirate King. They’re testing his trust in them, his wits, and Johnny’s not quite sure what to make of it.

“Pirate King,” your voice distracts Johnny from his internal musings, and he turns to you. “Come with me,” you bid him, standing and reaching out a hand. “I have something to give you.”

Your words draw not only Johnny’s attention, but the attention of those around him, and Yuta lets out a loud wolf whistle. It’s no shock that his crew would have filthy thoughts about why you’re whisking him away, but Johnny gets the suspicion that this interaction isn’t just about getting in his pants.

You’re a Princess after all, and so far, you’ve been nothing short of a gracious host. It’s clear that the two of you share alliance goals, and Johnny had watched you take your father to the side and passionately argue the importance of a connection between pirates and sirens.

“Watch Hyuck,” Johnny warns Jaehyun as he stands, allowing you to gently guide him by the hand away from the festivities.

Mermaids watch curiously as you lead Johnny over a number of small bridges, moving farther and farther from the main courtyard until you’re back at the edge of the sea. Johnny can hardly hear the sound of loud pirate laughter anymore, and he realizes how serene this new location is as he studies your winged form in the moonlight.

“I have two gifts for you,” you tell him, reaching into your dress. Johnny hadn’t realized the fine white material had included pockets, but then again, most of the night he’s been staring at your pretty face and your angelic wings. You pull out a conch shell, handing it to Johnny. “This one is to call for mermaids, and this one,” you place a halloweed reed style whistle next to the shell, “is to call on sirens. They’re in case you need help in battle, a way to contact us, to solidify an alliance of sorts, although- I warn you not to use the shell if you have any men in the water, mermaids are not the most discerning of saviours.”

Johnny looks down at the two items. At first, he doesn’t know what to say, and his voice cracks when he finally finds the words. “Thank you.” He swallows thickly. “I appreciate these, uh… tokens.”

You let out a giggle. “No need to be so formal, Pirate King.”

“Says the woman who just used the word discerning.”

“I’m more educated than you, pirate,” you grin.

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that, Princess.”

“Touche.”

Johnny enjoys this back and forth, it feels natural, and without the eyes of countless others on the two of you right now, the Pirate King feels comfortable to just be himself. “I guess, as much as I appreciate these gifts, I’m still wondering if I can trust you, if you’ll come when I call.”

“That’s the funny thing about trust, isn’t it, Pirate King?” you ask, stepping closer to him. You look up into Johnny’s eyes, and he’s blown away by your natural beauty. “You’ll only find out if the trust is solid, when you’re in a moment of need.”

A moment of need… watching your lips right now, Johnny’s in a deep moment of need. 

From the way your own gaze dips down, Johnny’s sure you reciprocate the attraction, and with one final ‘fuck it’ that he sends to the wind, Johnny cups the back of your neck with his large palm. He draws your mouth to his, kissing you gently on the edge of the sea as the moonlight bathes you both in light. The winds carry the smell of salt, a constant reminder of Johnny’s true commitments.

He’s a man with no regrets, a Pirate King, and nothing could ever make Johnny regret this shared kiss, this shared confirmation of a newly blossomed union between pirates, mermaids and sirens. 

Five: 

It’s been a full year since the Pirate King arrived at the Selkie Islands, a full year without hearing a whistle or the blow of a conch, and in that time, you’ve begun to worry about him.

Sure, he’d been strong, and tall, and handsome- but in your opinion, he’d lacked the savagery that had been so clearly evident in those who had come before him, not to mention excessive facial hair, bad teeth and body odor.

You’ve done your best to distract yourself with your studies, as education is important for a Princess such as yourself, and you’re in your library one afternoon when your ears pick up that distant call.

The reed you’d given the Pirate King is a magic reed, and it’s fine tuned to your ears. You’re able to hear it from a vast distance, and with your natural bird like homing abilities, there’s no way you’d miss Johnny’s location.

It’s been a year, but finally, you’re being summoned.

You’re quick to rally a small force of sirens to go with you, your Princess’ guard, which consists of your best female fighters with the strongest wings for flight. Despite your father being the King of the sirens, that’s only in the stead of your mother, who had died of an illness many moons ago. The sirens, as well as the mermaids, are naturally maternalistic societies, and when you need something done right, you send a band of females. 

The journey is a long one, but with your wings, you’re able to cover vast distances. You make it to Johnny’s pirate ship and the cove it’s anchored in just as the evening sun is setting. The Neo is still alive and well, and there are hardly any new marks on it, something that reassures you as you and your small band of sirens touch down on the deck.

Pirates watch you, and your eyes find Johnny as he steps down the stairs from the helm to greet you.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits, stopping just at the bottom step to assess you with a half grin on his face, his Captain’s hat tilted just so.

“Travel takes time, as I’m sure you know,” you retort. “What’s the emergency?”

“I’d like to speak to you, privately.” 

With a nod to your companions, you follow Johnny into the Captain’s quarters, curious as to what this call is about if not an attack.

“On the island, we hold pirate council,” Johnny explains. “Seeing as you’re my new ally, I’d like for you to speak, as a Princess, as the head of the sirens- and I’d like you to have a say for the mermaids as well, although, I can call upon the mermaids too if you’d rather they have their own representative.”

“Pirate council?” you ask in shock. “I wasn’t aware pirates were so democratic.”

“I am King of something, Princess,” Johnny grins. 

“I suppose that’s true,” you smile back at him slyly. “I can speak for the sirens, and the mermaids, at this council at least. When I return to the Selkie Islands, I can discuss a mermaid representative for further collaborative efforts.”

Johnny nods. “Works for me.”

“So when is this council, exactly?”

“We were waiting for you.”

Within minutes, you’re following Johnny into the largest beached pirate ship vessel you’ve ever seen. Despite it’s outside appearance, the inside is remarkably well kept- and you suppose it’s worn down exterior acts as a camouflage of sorts for the importance of what takes place inside this aged wooden skeleton of the sea.

You feel very important as you walk with Johnny, and he pays you the respect of holding you at his arm, making you equals as you enter the large council chamber.

Whispers erupt at the sight of you, and you suppose many of the pirates present have never seen a siren in the flesh. 

“I told them I’d be bringing you,” Johnny whispers in your ear as he takes you to the head of the table, pulling out the seat at his right hand for you to sit in. As you get settled, he leans close, his lips just brushing your ear. “You could ensnare the souls of every person in this room if you so much as breathed a note of your siren song, don’t be scared, and speak from your heart.”

You’d always thought of yourself as a confident Princess, but walking into this pirate’s den had shaken your foundations. Hearing Johnny’s praise of you, the facts that he’s pointed out- it helps you calm down, your shoulders falling, body relaxing. 

“Today, this pirate council has been drawn, because we need to discuss the increasing threat in our waters,” Johnny’s clear Kingly voice rings out through the room. “The British Royal Navy. they’ve been imposing their laws, sinking ships, taking prisoners, and killing every man, woman, or child who has ever had anything to do with the likes of us.”

This is all news to you. You’ve heard whispers of a new type of sailor in these seas, of more regimented water crafts- but your kind generally sticks to your own islands these days, you’d had no clue that this ‘British Royal Navy’ had become such an imposing force.

You listen as Johnny continues his speech, and then he opens up the floor for other pirates to speak.

It’s a heated debate, a debate of which you’re not necessarily inclined to be a part of. There’s talk of attacking ports, jail breaking prisoners-

It’s clear to you that although they view themselves as somewhat democratic for throwing a council such as this, that many of the pirates who are here to represent their crew and fleat, are very much in it only for themselves.

It’s also evident that Johnny takes his role as Pirate King extremely seriously, and you find yourself most and more enraptured as you watch him take control and keep things peaceful. Not only does he understand what others are saying, but often, he’s able to reword concerns so that others can understand as well. He’s like a Pirate King translator, and it’s a very attractive quality. 

There’s a bit of infighting between two rough looking bearded men, and when Johnny breaks it up, he sighs, turning to you. “Do you have any opinions, Princess?”

“I’d like to spend the night thinking on it. I’ve taken in a lot of information, and I’m tired from my travel.”

“That’s a good point,” Johnny nods. “I think we should all take the night to think things though and consider other perspectives, we can reconvene in the morning.” 

The Pirate King stands up, not giving any time for protest, and as you rise to join him, you take a survey of the room. You can see the respect that the others have for him, and everyone stays in their seat as Johnny takes your arm and leads you back outside.

The two of you are quiet as you return to his ship. It’s clear there’s a lot on both of your minds, and you kind of enjoy the peaceful quiet that blossoms with the strong man at your side.

“Well,” Johnny says finally, “I’ll give you and your companions my cabin, and I’ll find somewhere to sleep below deck.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him. “I’m going to send my companions home, it’s clear they’re not needed here tonight, and after our council meeting tomorrow, I’ll return to the Selkie Islands as well.”

“Almost sounds like you trust me to be on my best behaviour, Princess,” Johnny grins.

“As you said before, one note of song from my lips and your entire crew could be under my spell. I have nothing to fear.”

“Not even from me?” he toys.

“Not even from the Pirate King himself.”

“Well,” Johnny licks his lips, taking in your form, “I’ll let you say your goodbyes, and then you can meet me in my quarters.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“That’s King to you, Princess.”

You can only scoff, turning and leaving the Captain to join your ladies on the deck of the ship. You fill them in on the council meeting, and although two of them are reluctant to leave your side, you reassure them that you’ll be okay. This new strengthening of the alliance with the pirates is founded on trust, and if anything happens, the sirens alone could take out the entire pirate fleet sans Captain John himself, who’s impervious to your songs.

Soon, you’re the lone winged creature on the deck of the ship, and you can feel eyes on you as you make your way to Johnny’s Captain’s quarters. 

You’d been in here earlier when Johnny had taken you aside for a private chat, but you hadn’t taken the time to fully appreciate his home.

While there are wooden accents everywhere, it’s a very lavish quarters. There are lots of red velvet- royal colours that draw your eyes. It’s a masculine space, but the full walled library betrays the erudite mind of the new Pirate King. A large table is littered with maps, and it’s clear that’s where Johnny does most of his work, however, tucked into a wall pocket by his books, is a massive bed, with the same scarlety fabric drapes to make the sleeping section more private and cozy.

Johnny’s standing by the windows that look out the back of the ship, and while the candle flames lick light at the walls, it’s the reflection of the moon that truly illuminates the space.

“And so all the pretty birds fly home for the night,” he says, watching your companions disappear into the inky sky.

“All but one,” you muse, locking the door behind you.

“And the prettiest one at that.” Johnny turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to find somewhere else to sleep tonight?”

“I’ve been thinking about our last meeting for a year, Captain, I think it would be a disservice to both of us to not indulge further, after all, we’ve been good and patient, haven’t we?”

“Too patient, even for a Pirate King,” Johnny groans, moving closer.

“Even for a Princess,” you agree, wetting your lips as you stay still, allowing Johnny to be the one to close the gap.

Like that night by the water’s edge, Johnny doesn’t ask permission, you can tell that he reads your need for him as easily as he had a year ago. His large hand cups your cheek, drawing your lips to his own, and it’s such a familiar feeling-

Something about him just feels right. It feels natural. As if you’ve done this a hundred times before, even though this is only really your second kiss with the young Pirate King.

Regardless, you allow yourself to get lost in him. Your hands begin to explore him as if by muscle memory, and you push at his long dark jacket, exposing the white unbuttoned tunic below. Fucking pirates and their fashion sense- he’s too much of a slut in this fucking shirt, it’s making you feral.

“Someone is eager,” Johnny muses, breaking the kiss to look down at you with a grin.

“Someone is dressed like a whore,” you retort, flicking his hat off his head with one sharp movement.

The Pirate King lets out a whistle. “Wow, Princess, didn’t expect to hear words like that coming out of such a pretty little mouth.”

“Maybe being around you has some of your piracy rubbing off on me,” you suggest, hooking your finger in his gun holster belt to tug him closer.

“Princess, if I’d rubbed one off on you, you’d know it.”

You can only scoff, and Johnny’s smile widens. He tugs you closer, looking down at you with dark eyes that have suddenly turned serious.

“I’ve got a question for you, Princess.”

“Yeah, and what’s that, Captain?”

“I was just thinking…” he looks past you, and your wings twitch under his inspecting gaze, “are they as sensitive as they look?”

You breathe in a harsh gasp, a shiver running through you at the thought.

Johnny grins again. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

Siren wings are extremely sensitive, especially ones like yours. 

“They’re just… so pretty,” Johnny continues, reaching out. “You’ll let me touch, right?”

“You can touch,” you whisper, watching him while frozen in place. All your bravado and confidence are gone, and although you’re the siren, it feels as if the Pirate King has put you under a spell of his own now.

He’s ever so gentle as he brushes his fingers against your wing, looking down at you to watch for a reaction.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing, and you can tell from the way Johnny grabs your hip with his other hand, that he enjoys the effect this is having on you. 

He traces down your wing to the base, where your human skin becomes feathers, and he toys that spot with a circular motion. It feels so good- you have to bite your tongue to stifle a moan. 

“It’s okay, Princess, let it out, I wanna hear you,” Johnny encourages.

“You might, but what about your crew?” you ask, looking at the door just a few meters away. If you moan- even if it’s a moan and not a purposeful siren song - it could still bewitch anyone close enough to hear it, and you’d hate to lose composure, damaging your alliance, because you’re too horny to keep it in your pants and in your mouth.

“That’s a good point,” Johnny concedes. In one motion, he’s lifting you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you toward the bed nook. He gently puts you down, carefully of just flopping you onto the mattress and damaging a wing, then, he draws the curtains closed, clearly hoping to muffle any sounds that come out of you. “Now… where were we?”

“I think you were about to get me naked and eat me the way you ate that fucking wild boar last year.”

“I was trying to be somewhat clean that night, you know,” Johnny laughs.

“I don’t mind messy, in fact, part of me might prefer it.”

“Are you sure you’re a Princess?” Johnny asks, kissing up your calf as you adjust against the pillows, making sure your wings are in an alright position for him to eat you out.

“I’m as much of a Princess as you are a King,” you point out.

Despite you both having titles, it’s clear there’s more to you than your respective stations in life. Sure, the fact that he’s a Pirate King and you’re a Siren Princess is making this whole interaction possible, but there’s a desire to know him on a deeper level- and it’s one of the reasons you’re reluctant to refer to him as King. You’d rather see him as a Captain, a leader of men in that capacity-

Johnny’s hands push your dress up your thighs, and you let out a small exhale at the feeling of cool cabin air on your exposed skin.

As a siren, you’re somewhat of a wild being. No matter how civilized you might look, with your long flowy dresses, and monarch system- you’re still not fully human, and you hate restrictive clothing, which is why, the dress is the only piece of fabric covering your body. As Johnny pushes the fabric up, he realizes your nudity under the silk, and you watch his pupils dilate with interest.

Johnny licks his lips, looking up at you one last time, as if asking for permission. You nod to him, a smile working its way onto your face as you realize how soft he’s being with you.

He’s the big bad Pirate King, but consent is still a must- God, he’s truly an enigma, and you’d be happy to spend years figuring him out.

Johnny dives into your pussy. Two large hands grab your thighs, spreading you open for the tongue that begins to lap at your core.

“Shit-” you groan. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. You’re not a virgin per se, but your number of sexual experiences is severely limited. As far as mythical races go, the sirens aren’t the horniest of creatures, but there’s something about this Pirate King that changes everything.

You can feel Johnny grin against your pussy, and it turns you on even more as he sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking at it repeatedly.

Your hands are grabbing at the lush bedding, trying to keep you grounded on a ship that’s gently rocking from the sea. There are so many textures, the velvety fabrics, your silky dress pushed up to your waist. The smells of the wood and sea, the sounds of The Neo and the water lapping at her sides-

You’re overwhelmed in the best possible way as sounds of desperation escape you, spurring on the Pirate King as he works you over with his mouth.

You reach down, threading your fingers through his soft hair. God, some pirates are unhygienic as fuck, but this one seems to know how to take care of himself, and that’s an attractive quality in a man.

Johnny growls against your pussy, sucking your clit even harder, and your toes curl. You can feel an orgasm rising in the pit of your stomach, and Johnny’s steady pace is drawing that release closer and closer-

His grip digs into your thighs and you throw your head back gasping-

Your eyes clench shut as your orgasm washes over you, throbbing through your entire body unlike any high you’ve ever had, even those you’ve given yourself.

You ride out the orgasm, and Johnny continues to worship your core until you’re spent and sweaty. You push him away gently, and he looks up at you. As the Pirate King rises, he licks his lips, and you enjoy the view of him getting every last drop of your taste.

“You taste as angelic as you look, Princess,” Johnny muses.

“And I feel even better,” you say lazily.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Johnny shrugs off his white tunic, baring his washboard abs and broad chest. He’s got scars, battle wounds most likely, but nothing too gnarly. No, he’s quite beautiful, for a pirate.

Your dress has a low back, the type that you step into so your wings aren’t damaged or put in any awkward positions, so as Johnny strips himself, you tug the silky fabric of your own clothing down your body. 

You love the feeling of the velvety bedding against your exposed skin, and you spread your legs for Johnny, an invite.

He drops his pants to the ground, and his heavy belt acts like as a weight, creating a loud thumping sound against the worn wooden floor. 

Fuck. The Pirate King is packing. You’d noticed his affinity for a pistol over a sword, but you suppose that’s only because he has a sword sized cock inside his breeches. 

Johnny reads your expression, and he lets out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll go slow with you.”

“You better. Being fatally impaled by the Pirate King was not in my nightly plan.”

“Just… pleasantly impaled by the Pirate King, right?” Johnny jokes, getting onto the bed with you, his large biceps bulging as he holds his weight overtop of your body.

 God, he’s so handsome, and playful for a Pirate King too. There’s something to unique about this Captain John, and it takes your breath away. The familiarity makes you uncomfortable in some form, so instead of responding, you grab the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours.

Johnny immediately kisses you, rolling his hips so his cock can drag against your pussy while you wrap your legs tight around him. His mouth is so distracting, but you simply can’t take your mind off of the massive length that’s toying by your clit with each rut of his hips.

How are you even going to fit this man inside of you?

To your surprise, Johnny is true to his word about not rushing anything. He simply makes out with you, rutting gently, working you up until you’re a gasping mess. You can feel your pussy practically crying onto his cock now, can feel how wet you’ve made his length with each pass of it through your pussy lips. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” you tell him, adjusting slightly against his pillows, one wing stretching out to steady yourself a little. 

“You sure about that?” Johnny taunts, bringing his lips to your throat, where he teases past your skin.

You moan desperately, tightening your grip on his hips, urging him to just fuck you-

Johnny’s nose grazes up your neck, and he pulls your ear lobe into his mouth, suckling on it gently.

“Please,” you whimper, all composure lost. 

Johnny pulls away, looking down at you with an expression very much like concern while you grab at his broad shoulders. “Did you just say… please?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

The Pirate King grabs your jaw, forcing your eyes to his again. “That actually sounded really cute coming from you, Princess.”

“If you don’t want to fuck me, then don’t fuck me,” you snap, getting irritated in your impatient lust fueled state.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny counters, rutting his hips so you can feel his massive cock, all enlarged and throbbing- “I just don’t want to hurt you, Princess. Remember, I have to be a man without regrets, and if I hurt you, then I’d have something to regret, and I couldn’t effectively be King of the pirates.”

Your heart melts for him, and it’s the best explanation he could have possibly given. You smash your lips to his, moaning into the kiss as desperation continues to take over your entire body. 

Johnny adjusts his cock, pressing just the tip to your aching hole. He’s as gentle as ever as he slowly pushes it in, waiting patiently as you get used to the stretch.

The Pirate King continues to kiss you, distracting you from the feeling until it becomes pleasurable, then, he pushes deeper into you, repeating the slow build up. He takes his time, and it’s as if he knows your body inside and out, as if he’s reading every little reaction to make it the best possible experience for you.

Johnny is now completely inside of you, and you gasp at how deep it feels. You’re shocked he’s flush to your body, your chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, lips parted, staring into each others eyes.

God, this connection feels unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. 

It’s as if he’s staring into your soul, which is an uncanny feeling given the fact that siren’ are the soul collectors of the mortal world. You feel so bare for him, so susceptible and weaponless- but there’s no fear with this knowledge. You trust the young Pirate King, you’re not sure why, but you do. It’s this deep knowing- one that you can’t put into words.

“You ready?” Johnny asks, swallowing thickly.

You nod, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m ready.”

Johnny leans down, gently pressing his lips to yours as he begins to move his hips, slowly rutting into you, allowing your body to get used to his size with each motion.

You moan desperately against his mouth, kissing him harder, gripping his strong shoulders desperately as his pace builds-

One shift has your wing caught under you uncomfortably, and you break the kiss. “Can I be on top? My wing-”

Before you can even finish your explanation, Johnny is grabbing the small of your back, keeping you tucked to his chest, and rolling you so you’re now in the dominant position. He looks up at you, and you stretch your wings out. Your hands fall flat on his chest, your head thrown back as you enjoy the feeling of freedom now that you’re on top.

“God, you’re so pretty,” Johnny breathes.

“You and your wing kink, mister Pirate King,” you laugh, looking down at him.

“There are worse kinks to have,” he suggests, stroking your hip.

You don’t bother to agree with him, you simply start to move, rubbing back and forth a little, getting used to how deep his cock is inside your core now that you’re in the power position.

“The way you’re taking me is fucking heaven,” Johnny groans, pressing his thumb to your clit to rub gentle circles that set your skin on fire.

“Maybe we were made for each other,” you offer breathlessly, intending it to be a lighthearted joke of sorts, but the growl Johnny releases at your words tells you he takes them seriously.

“Maybe we were,” Johnny agrees, rubbing your clit even harder. His other hand finds your hip, and he begins to half bounce you up and down on his cock, leveraging the bed so he can make his own shallow thrusts, coming up to meet you with each motion.

The thought of the two of you being weird, two sides of the same coin soulmates has your stomach twisting into knots, or maybe that’s just the massive cock rearranging your guts, you’re not quite sure. 

God, he looks so pretty like this too- a thin layer of sweat on his broad chest, his pouty bottom lip caught between his sexy teeth, brow furrowed in concentration. The scars on his tanned skin truly don’t bug you, in fact, the intricate lines are almost a type of art all of their own. You could spend hours tracing them- 

Your toes curl as Johnny’s thumb works your clit, combining with his cock in your tight hole, working you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Come on, Princess,” Johnny groans, “almost there, and then I can flip you over and fuck you stupid.” 

You’re pretty sure he’s already fucking you stupid, and you’re not quite sure why he’s encouraging you when he’s doing practically all the work- so you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling that’s building- getting to the edge in record speed is the one thing you can control right now.

Each breath feels almost like a type of meditation now, your body thrumming with an eclectic energy that you know is almost ready to explode-

“That’s it, cum on my cock.”

His words are the trigger that has you short circuiting, your body jolting as your orgasm slams into you. You cry out, eyes clenching shut as your pussy clamps down on his cock, your clit pulsing deliciously.

Johnny doesn’t let up, he continues to gently rub the sensitive nub, fucking up into you to prolong your high-

Soon, you can’t take it anymore, and you collapse down against his chest, breathing deeply.

Johnny cradles you for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re gonna let me cum too, right, Princess?” he asks.

“Yeah, cum in me-” you whisper, too delirious to even think straight.

Johnny helps you off of him, adjusting you onto your stomach. He gets behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you up into doggy position. “This view is amazing,” he tells you, gently stroking one of your wings and making a shock of pleasure run through your body. “If it’s too much, just tell me to stop.” 

You can only nod, bracing yourself as he lines his cock up with your soaked hole, pushing into you as easy as ever.

His hands find your hips, and he begins to rail into you. Gone is the gentleness from before, but you don’t mind it. No, there’s an enjoyment in this raw, animalistic savagery- or maybe you should classify it as pirate-like in nature. Regardless of specification, it feels fucking good, and each smack of Johnny’s hips against your ass has you clawing at his bedding.

Then, one of Johnny’s hands is smoothing up your back, and you let out a strangled squeal when he grips the base of your wing, using it as a type of leverage as he fucks you.

There are no words to truly describe the feeling of having your wings being touched, and there are even fewer metaphors to encapsulate the ecstasy that comes from having Johnny utilize your wings to fuck you absolutely stupid. All you can do is take what he gives you, muffling your sounds with his pillow as he draws you closer and closer to the edge yet again, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“These are sensitive, huh, Princess?” Johnny asks, stroking his pointer finger up the section of wing in his grasp. “Almost feels like you’re gonna cum again.”

“Fuck, I am- I will, just- don’t stop!” you beg.

“If that’s what my Princess commands.” In fact, Johnny fucks you even harder, fingers digging into your hip with each rough motion.

He draws circles on the base of your wing with his thumb, and your body begins to twitch-

“I want us to cum together,” Johnny breathes heavily. “You’ll cum with me, right?”

“Yes, yes-”

“Almost there,” the Pirate King warns you.

Your own high is balancing on the edge of the knife, and as Johnny releases a raw grunt of satisfaction, the sound sends you toppling into the pleasure abyss.

You can feel him filling you up with cum as your pussy milks him for every single drop that the Pirate King is worth. All you can do is lay there, face buried in the pillows while wave upon wave of ecstasy washes over you like an all consuming, destructive, sea tempest.

Despite how powerful and intense it is, there’s never been anything as good as this before either.

Soon, Johnny’s slowing down, breathing heavily against your back. Your wings twitch at the feeling of his exhales, and he releases the base of your appendage, stroking his fingers down your spine gently.

“Give me a second, then I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You can only whimper, in a daze from three hard orgasms.

Johnny is true to his word, slipping out of you a minute later and returning with a cloth. He cleans you up, and then, he wraps you in his arms, drawing you under the blankets so you can cuddle even closer.

The two of you fall asleep like this, a Siren Princess, and a Pirate King, two beings without an ounce of regret.

Six: 

Johnny’s happy with how things are going with council. He’d thought long and hard about not incurring an all out war with the navy, while also not leaving a single pirate behind. Prison breaks with the purpose of salvation over bloodshed, that had been his primary goal, and while many of his fellow pirates had seemed a little less than enthusiastic about the idea, he’d gotten them to agree.

He can’t govern them at all times, it was clear to him that sooner or later, pirates would begin their own brand of revolutionary vigilantism, but without any specific boundaries prohibiting the excessive use of force and weapons, things would turn into an all out war faster than Johnny would have ever been able to manage.

No, the agreement to tone down the violence is a good one, and as all the pirates begrudgingly agree, Johnny turns his attention to you. “What do you think, Princess?”

You release a sigh, one large wing twitching behind you.  “Unfortunately, unlike the rest of you, who are a fact of the seas, my kind isn’t as well known, especially not to this new British Royal Navy. To be part of this encroaching threat would only put my people in danger. I can’t actively condone or participate a war, even on a small scale like this. I think as pirates you should do what you’d like, but my people will keep to our Islands and hopefully remain unnoticed by the Navy.”

Johnny nods. “I understand your concerns,” and with that, he leaves you be. He’d wanted you to be part of this council, but he’d known there would be times where the topic at hand wasn’t something that would affect you. He’s just happy to have your voice here, to have his alliance with you be glaringly obvious to all those who might oppose him or question his legitimacy as the new Pirate King. 

The council completes its dues, and soon, Johnny is walking back with you toward his ship. 

His men get scarce, something that he doubts is a coincidence, and Johnny leads you to the bow of the ship. The Neo’s large winged figurehead looks out at the sea, and the pirate Captain gazes as well, noting the oncoming storm that’s brewing in the distance. 

“I guess I should be going home,” you sigh.

“Those clouds don’t look very friendly,” Johnny points out. “You can stay another night if you’d like.”

“Storms don’t phase me, Captain,” you tease. “Although, before I go, I have something to give you.”

Johnny turns to watch you pull a small reed from your pocket. It’s like the one you’d given him a year ago, but more dainty in a way. 

“This reed is different from the other one,” you explain. “This one is a frequency just for me, so you can call when you need anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you confirm with a sly smile. “If you play these three notes,” you demonstrate, “it will alert me that it’s not a life or death situation.”

“I’ll be sure to call for you if you’re needed,” Johnny muses, accepting the reed and playing the three note tune as easily as anything.

“And if I’m not needed, then I’m not needed,” you shrug.

Johnny likes this. He likes that you’re not trying to control him. No, you have an understanding that he is who he is. He’s a Pirate King, a man who more than anyone else, belongs to the sea. You’re not going to hold him down, and he’s pretty sure neither of you would enjoy it if you tried.

The flip side of that, is that you’re your own elusive being. You’re a Siren Princess, and he’s confident that you have your own things to do. He’s not sure what your life consists of, but he’s never going to be the man to get in the way of that and endeavor to cage the prettiest bird he’s ever seen.

The two of you have an understanding, and at the end of the day, that’s the best the young Pirate King could have ever hoped for. 

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🔮 preview. There are all sorts of milestones he wants to have with you, but he supposes at the end of the day, the main thing he wants is tangible progress.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, breast worship, body worship, fingering, grinding against Johnny’s hand, big dick Johnny, size kink, pussy stretching, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, wing kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) Princess. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 215

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

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When Johnny had first begun to see you, it had been every couple of months. It was a no strings attached, easy sort of connection- but somehow, he’s not sure when, it began to blossom into something more.

Every couple of months became once a month, and now, in the time between seeing you, Johnny struggles. He has your special reed in his hand, and many nights are spent with him fighting the urge to call you to his side.

It’s not just the sex anymore- although, the sex is great. No, it’s an inner peace that comes when you’re near, a comfort that gives him the best sleep of his life and the clearest mind. You simply make him better, and it’s a fact that is getting harder and harder for the Pirate King to ignore.

As much as he hates to admit it to himself… it’s beginning to feel an awful lot like the Pirate King is starting to have regrets. 

He’s beginning to regret his commitment to the sea, to the ship, to the crew that follows his every word. He’s starting to imagine what a life less free would look like-

If there was ever a woman who could tie him down, it would be you, and he knows it.

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It’s always exciting getting started on a new show. The new people, new creative outlets, new ideas to try. After the last couple years of being a sound designer, you really feel like you found your groove when it came to jumping into a new show. 

This is a theatre you have worked for a few times before; a small one but it paid the techies well and even got you some union points. 

The production manager, Moonbyul, was a longtime friend and had called you in to sound design Hadestown. You had to say yes, of course, to one of your favorite musicals. You had seen it on Broadway a few years before and fell in love with it, especially the production design of it all. 

Moonbyul had also mentioned that they were bringing in a new lighting designer. The last one you had worked with was very lovely, but also an older man that would fall asleep between cues so probably for the best…

At the first production meeting, you were eager to get started and fire off all the great ideas you had for the production, so you wanted to get there early to get all your notes organized. 

You walked into the theatre about half an hour early, expecting to see Moonbyul and Vernon (the stage manager) running around, but they were nowhere to be found. 

You set your stuff down in an audience seat, and head to the stage. It had been a few years since you had been on this side of things, but it always gave you a rush to see the audience from this view; standing center stage. 

Retiring from performing was not an easy choice, fueled by hate and trauma and self-judgement. But when it was time to leave, you found a space in sound design. Being taken under the wing of a longtime mentor, Jihoon, made everything come to you easy and you’ve been hooked ever since. 

Even though the stage is dark, you can close your eyes and imagine the audience in front of you, lights shining, costume sparkling. You hum a few bars of “Flowers” to yourself, slowing your breathing and your brain for just a second. 

BOOM. A bright light cuts through your vision. You hold your hands up in front of your eyes to shield them before you open them. 

“What the heck??” you shout at whoever is in the booth. 

“Sorry, sorry.” says a voice, the light too bright for you to make out a face. “You just looked like you could use a spot.”

“I’m good thanks…” you answer back coldly. 

“Alright, but just know you look great from up here. Made for the stage.” the voice says. 

“Thanks..” you answer under your breath, not sure how to react to the obvious compliment.

The spot shuts off and you blink a few times to adjust your eyesight. Standing in the booth is a figure, a taller man with broad shoulders. But it's still too dark to see his facial features. 

It seems as if he’s just standing there… looking at you.

“Um… can you bring up the house lights?” you ask him. 

“Oh yeah! Sorry..” he responds. The house lights come up a second later. “I’m gonna come down there, hold on one sec!” he says.

You step off of the stage, a little embarrassed you got caught lost in a daydream. You walk over to your stuff, digging through your backpack to get out your Ipad and pencil, if only you could find the damn thing…

A tap on your shoulder startles you and you turn around in defense. In front of you stands maybe the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His hair was long, his bangs perfectly framing his dark, deep eyes. And man were those shoulders broad… he could probably pick you up and throw you around a little….

You were staring. 

“Um.. sorry you scared me.” you said, trying to cover up your obvious gawking. 

“No you’re good, I tend to sneak up on people. I’m Seongcheol by the way, nice to meet you.” he holds out his (very large) hand for you to shake.

“___” you respond, and take his hand. You’re too stunned to even move your hand to shake his, but he holds your hand strongly and commands the handshake. 

An obvious indicator that he can take control. 

You shake away that thought, remembering the pact you made with yourself to stay far far away from another showmance. 

Your hand is still in his, and his eyes have not left yours. Has time slowed down?

“Good, you guys have met!” says Moonbyul, walking down the aisle where you guys were standing, Vernon trailing close behind. Seungcheol lets go of your hand and quickly turns around to face them. 

“Ready to get this meeting started?”

The rest of the production team trickles in and the production meeting promptly starts; Moonbyul is not one for tardiness. 

All the designers give their presentations, and this is always so exciting for you. To watch the production blossom from pieces of paper to onstage art is a beautiful thing. You especially love the costume designers concept of using color to show contrast between the human characters and the god characters.

Finally comes Seungcheol’s presentation. He opens up his laptop to a lighting program, already set with the stages dimensions and the set design and presses play. He explains while the lights change from scene to scene, full of color and different gobos to add texture. 

There is obviously a lot of thought put behind this design. He is extremely talented. And hot. 

His presentation finishes and it’s obvious how his shoulders relax. Those broad shoulders. He must not like being the center of attention, you think.

It’s your turn next, so you shake the thoughts of him away before stepping in front of the others with your laptop in hand. 

You are always very prepared, already having the mic plot done and the sound effects downloaded to the board. You are super excited to present your concept for the final song- I Raise My Cup. Having seen the show on Broadway, you have a good idea of how the audience will react to the final scene of the show. Complete silence. So your concept is to have the characters sing this song with no help of the mics, completely acapella and completely raw. 

“But what if the audience claps?” Seungcheols voice shoots through your confidence. 

“They won't,” you reassure. 

“But they might, and then what? We won't be able to hear Persephone and then the rest of the cast will be thrown off for the rest of the song,” he pushes.

“I promise, that won’t be a problem. The audience will be stunned by the heartbreaking ending, they won’t know what to do.”

“I don’t like it,” he says blankly.

Okay maybe he’s not so hot anymore. 

This little shit is totally bursting your bubble, what the fuck? You were so proud of this idea, why did he have to embarrass you in front of the director and entire production team??

“Let’s put a pin in that one. Thank you for that great presentation, let's move on to props!” says Moonbyul, cutting through the tension. 

You take your seat next to Seungcheol, but not before shooting him a piercing scowl. 

He leans over to you once you sit down. “Hey, no hard feelings. I'm just a skeptic, ya know?” he whispers over the presentation. 

“Yeah well next time please keep it to yourself. Some of us are trying to make a name in this theatre,” you shoot back. 

The rest of the meeting is spent with your arms crossed, trying not to melt into the smell of Seungcheol’s cologne, but rather hold steady in your annoyance with him. 

The next day is the first day of rehearsal for the cast, and although you aren’t called, you decide to come in to organize the booth a little bit. 

They’re learning music on the stage, so you open the booth window so you can hear the cast sing. The music of this show is so beautiful, so romantic. It's nice to listen to while you work.

It’s when the actress playing Eurydice starts singing Flowers that you space off, lost in the beauty of the song. If you were still acting, this role would be a dream role for you. Of course you belt this song all the time in your car. 

You start to sing along under your breath, knowing that no one will hear you up here. 

Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

You sing to yourself, imagining a beautiful field laid out before you instead of a 10-year-old soundboard. 

I remember someone, someone by my side. Turned his face to mine, and then he turned away, into the shade. 

In the field of flowers, who pops into your head but Seungcheol. That asshole is so damn beautiful you can’t help but imagine him as your Orpheus. 

The song finishes out with the final notes and you sigh as your day dream dissipates, shaking away the thought of ever seeing Seungcheol in that way and returning back to the box of mystery chords you were wrapping.

Someone clears their throat behind you. You really hope it's Vernon. 

“Didn’t know you could sing?” says Seungcheol from behind you. 

“I don’t anymore.” you reply coldly, not really interested in conversing with him.

“You should, you have a beautiful voice,” he says.

You turn away from him as he comes to the lightboard next to you, hiding your blush. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to show too much emotion in your voice.

Silence fills the space as he pulls up a chair and opens up the light programming app on the desktop. You direct your attention back to your cords that connect to god knows what. 

“So about yesterday…” he starts.

“Yeah, that was a dick move,” you blurt out. Maybe not so direct next time.

“Look I get that you’re upset, but I just call them like I see them. I get your idea but I don’t think it's gonna work. What's wrong with a little bit of criticism?” he asks.

You take a breath before you turn to him and give him a piece of your mind.

“What’s wrong is I don’t know what gave you the idea that I asked for criticism. I’ve been working at this theatre for a long time, you’re still fresh meat. Really isn’t a good look to come flouncing in giving everyone unsolicited criticism,” you spit at him. 

You get so worked up that you stomp over to where he is sitting on the other side of the booth. The look on his face is unwavering though, in fact it turns into a smirk as he stands. 

He is easily a foot taller than you, looking down at you without closing the space between the two of you. 

You feel so small. You swear you feel yourself throb.

“Someone’s got their panties in a twist,” he says, still smirking. 

You are stunned, mouth falling open but no words coming out. That sentence has never sounded sexier.

“It’s alright, I’ll be nicer to you from now on, knowing how sensitive you get.” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear for extra effect. 

And then the asshole just walks away and sits back down as if nothing even happened. 

You’re still frozen in place, in shock at the intense flirting that just happened. 

“So, you said you have worked here for a while, how have you liked it?” he asks, continuing the conversation with no indication of what just happened. 

This is going to be a long day. 

After a few hours of genuinely torturous small talk with Seungcheol mixed with palpable silence, you decide to call it an early day. You got almost nothing done, besides wrapping and unwrapping a bunch of useless cords and clicking on random folders on the sound desktop. 

As you leave, he promises to see you tomorrow and sends you off with a wink that makes your knees weak.

The next day, you get there later than usual. The cast is learning blocking in the dance studio, giving the techies free reign of the stage for the afternoon. 

You’re hoping your tardiness will allow you to avoid the overlap with Seungcheol and you can have the booth to yourself.

But, no luck. There he is, sitting in the rolling chair at the lighting desktop in the sexiest skin tight compression shirt you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re gawking when he turns the chair around. “Like what you see?” he teases.

You come back to your senses at his words. “You wish,” you grumble as you head to your station, hoping to get some work done today. 

You swear you hear him scoff as he turns back to the desktop.

“Blackout!” he shouts down to the set people on the stage, as he presses the “next cue” button. A series of “thank you blackouts!” follow, in proper theatre etiquette.

You keep quiet though. 

He goes through a few more cues, calling blackout a few more times, and you still don’t say anything. 

“You know, it’s proper manners to say ‘thank you’ when I call blackout,” he points out after the 4th time.

“What do you know about manners?” you grumble under your breath.

He crosses over to you, again smirking, as he says “Enough to know that you need to learn some, baby girl.”

Shocks of electricity go straight to your clit. 

“Don’t call me that, get that stick out of your ass, and fucking leave me alone Seungcheol!” you shout, unsure if you're more angry or turned on or both. 

You grab your stuff to leave in a hurry, all the while he doesn’t move from his spot where he’s standing; just leans against the counter and crosses his arms to watch you angrily throw stuff in your bag. 

You turn to leave, expecting him to apologize for his inappropriate comment. But when you turn to look back at him, all you see is him looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. He waves a finger at you before you stomp down the stairs and out of the booth. 

You text Moonbyul and Vernon some bullshit excuse about period cramps and that you have to leave early, before going home and using up all the battery in your vibrator.

Saturday no one is called, so you use this as an excuse to go in and pick up where you left off before leaving in a huff.

Luckily you have keys, so you let yourself into the empty theatre and up to the booth.

It’s really nice to work in the silence of the empty theatre, only the ghostlight lighting the stage. You leave the ceiling light off in the booth, only leaving on the string lights you and Jihoon added to make the space more cozy. 

You put on your headphones and get to work. The music director sent you a recording of the cast singing, so you make sure all your cues align with the music.

You work for about an hour before it's rudely interrupted by Seungcheol lifting one side of the headphones off your ear. You feel his breath on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your back, before he whispers, “Boo.” 

Jumping out of your chair a little bit, you snatch his hand away from your headphones and turn back around without a word to him. 

“Sorry to scare you,” he giggles. “I just forgot my charger last time.”

You give him no reply, not interested in potentially entering another conversation where you leave dripping.

“Actually, would you mind if I stayed and worked on a few things?” he asks.

Again, you don’t respond. 

You see him shrug his shoulders in your peripherals and sit down in his chair to get to work.

Both of you sit in heavy silence as you work, and the more silent it is, the more you feel the tension rise, with anger burning in your chest.

What is the deal with this guy? Does he like just getting a rise out of people? Why does he feel the need to torture me? What did I even do to him??

“Gum?” he asks, holding out a pack to you.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you shout back.

He looks stunned as he takes a piece out and unwraps it, popping it in his mouth. “So, no gum then…”

“Why do you treat me this way, Seungcheol? It’s fucked up,” you shout, moving towards him to really give it to him.

“Treat you what way exactly?” he asks slyly.

“You just keep saying annoying shit to me, pushing my buttons and pissing me off. But then you make me leave every conversation so turned on that I can’t even think straight. I don’t get it, what is your issue with me??” You shout at him.

He looks at you in silence for a second, his expression unreadable.

“I… turn you on?” he asks.

Oh shit. You may have revealed a bit too much….

“I… what? I didn’t mean to say that,” you stutter.

“Oh well in that case… it won’t mean anything to you if I do this?” 

He stands up and turns to face you, arms leaning against the countertop, caging you between them. You swear you see the veins straining against his skin, bulging out from his thick arms as he moves closer.

He leans in close to your ear, breath fanning down your neck. You’re frozen in place, trying to focus on slowing your breathing. 

“Jump,” he says. And you do, hopping up to sit on the counter. Why did you just obey him??

“Good girl.”

Oh that’s why.

“Now,” he starts, his lips moving all over your neck, so close but not touching as he breathes the next few words onto you. 

“I’m really curious to know exactly what it is I do that turns you on?” one of his hands snakes up the side of your thigh, dipping just slightly under the skirt you’re wearing and playing with the edge. 

“Can you tell me, baby girl?” he says before he licks a stripe up your neck. 

You shudder and lean into him a little bit. It’s over for you now.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” he says, hovering in front of your lips now. 

You grab his arm to stop him from moving back. “Please,” you say in a desperate voice. 

His lips meet yours, and slowly he starts making out with you. His big lips make it sloppy, but it's so hot you could care less.

He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, swirling around yours so sensually it goes straight to your throbbing pussy. He snakes his hand into your hair, guiding your head with his big hand to deepen the kiss. 

The strap of your tank top falls and before you can put it back, he takes the opportunity to bring it down even more, revealing your bare breast to him. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, lightly twisting it enough to make you whimper into his mouth.

He pulls away after a few seconds, a string of spit connecting your lips. You look up at his large frame through your lashes, breathing heavily. 

And then he does something you don’t expect. He drops to his knees. 

He grabs your ass and forcefully pulls you forward on the counter to access you better. You know he can see the wet spot forming on your white panties, and try to cross your legs out of embarrassment.

“Absolutely not.” he says in protest, snaking his arms underneath your thighs and grabbing them so you’re practically sitting on his shoulders.

He kisses up and down your thighs, not yet touching you where you need him. You whine and wiggle your hips, attempting to bring him closer. 

“Someone really does have their panties in a twist…” he smirks from below you. That little shit.

He barely gives you what you desperately need, lightly kissing your clit through your panties.

“Cheol, please…” you whine, attempting to get him to give you a little bit more. 

“Babygirl, I know you can beg better than that,” he says, lifting his head up. He keeps a finger pressed to your clit as he talks, rubbing in small, torturous circles. 

Your cheeks heat up, probably turning red. You’ve already given in to this annoying shit, there’s no way you’re begging for him. You just whine in response, not willing to give him what he wants. 

“You sure you don’t want to beg for it?...” he questions slyly, while at the same time moving your now completely wet panties to the side.

He gives your pulsing clit a few kitten licks, just enough to give you a taste of what you could have, all while never breaking eye contact with you. 

You whimper at the contact, starting to reach out your hand to grab his head and pull it closer. He knows what you're up to, though, and grabs your wrist, forcing it back to its place on the counter.

“Now try again baby, beg for what you want.” he says, slipping your panties off in anticipation.

You sit there a minute, chest already heaving with desire, dripping all over the counter. 

“Please Cheol, you know how badly I need it. I deserve it after all the shit you put me through,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can think about them fully.

He raises his eyebrow at you, smiling that stupid fucking smirk that makes you shiver. “Oh is that so?” he questions.

And then he dives in. It’s as if he has been eating your pussy for years, somehow finding the exact rhythm and pressure on your clit that makes the string lights turn blurry. His arms are wrapped around both of your thighs, as if he was trying to choke them out. 

You grab the back of his head with one hand, and start rolling your hips into his mouth, chasing the high that is hurdling closer. He loves it, judging by the way he growls into your pussy, barely pulling away to mumble “fuck yes” before plunging two fingers into you. 

It only takes him hooking them into your g-spot a few times along with flicking your clit with his tongue before you are cumming into him, gasping and not letting go of the tight hold you have on his hair. 

He pulls away, resting his head on the inside of your thigh, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. His plump lips are completely drenched with your wetness. He looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a goddess.

Oh, it really is over for me. 

“Stand up,” you order.

He questions you at first, but then gets the message when you hop off the counter and drop to your knees. 

He pets your hair, towering over you, but not unbuckling his belt like you so want him to. 

“You really don’t have to, baby. But it’s so sweet seeing how compliant you are.” he says with a slight smirk. 

“Shut up,” you say, all the while undoing his belt. He continues to pet your hair, watching your every move. 

You pull his cock out of his boxers. It's perfect; long but not too long, and slightly curved upwards. He’s definitely a fucking munch seeing how much it's already dripping precum. 

You hover your lips around the tip, kissing it lightly. He hums above you in approval. 

“Now, it's your turn to beg for it.” you tease, pulling away from him. 

He chuckles from above you, fucking chuckles, before grabbing the back of your head with more force than before.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t beg.” he says, before pulling your head forward onto him.

A head pusher? Yeah… But for some reason, this time, it was the hottest thing he could have done. 

You get to work, watching his mouth drop open in pleasure while you work your mouth up and down his length. You cup your tongue around the underside of him, pulling out every trick in the book to try and get the upperhand in this fight.

He’s very obviously enjoying it, moaning loud enough for anyone in the theater to hear and eyes locked into contact with yours. He swipes his other hand through his bangs, which are now collecting the sweat from his brow. God he’s beautiful.

Even though his hand is holding your head down, you still have full control, so you slow down your pace just a little to try another trick. 

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, lightly squeezing and tugging to bring him closer. You feel his cock pulse in your mouth at the added pleasure. 

But nothing could’ve prepared him for your next trick. 

You slowly trail your finger backwards, lightly circling his rim to test the waters. But before you can even think about going further, you hear a gargled moan come from him, and he pulls you off your knees by your hair. 

Your face meets his, foreheads touching, but you divert your eyes down, scared you may have crossed a line.

“Why the fuck are you trying to make me cum before I get to feel that pussy around me?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up knowing that it worked, filing that info into your head for another time. 

“Turn around,” he barks, but you stay still. You bring your eyes up off the floor to meet his, determined not to let him win the struggle for control. 

“Funny if you think I’m going to let you fuck me from behind right off the bat.” you say, trying to put power behind your words even though you feel so little in his arms. 

“Oh, well then what’s your alternative sweetheart?” he cuts back at you, as if humoring you.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at his shirt, “and sit down.”

“Hm… but aren’t you going to take anything off too?” he asks, pulling away and pulling his shirt over his head from the back of the neck. 

You get distracted by his toned stomach, your retort getting stuck in the back of your throat. 

He giggles at you again, before stepping forward and grabbing the hem of the crop top you were wearing. 

“How about, we take this off, but leave the skirt on?” he says, dragging his fingers along the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your consent.

You nod at him, and he swiftly lifts the top off of you, leaving you in your skirt and bra. 

He silently backs up into the chair, sitting down and draping his thick arms over the arms of it.

You slowly walk towards him, really wanting to drag this part out, before you lift up your legs to straddle him in the chair.

You hover over his cock, but before you drop down, you make eye contact with him. He’s staring into you, as if looking into your soul, and you stutter your movements, all of the sudden getting nervous. 

It’s as if he senses the nerves, and brings a hand to the small of your back, trying to reassure and ground you silently.

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, before leaning in to kiss him. This one is different though, not like the intense one before. This one is slower, tongues just brushing over each other. Kissing like you have all the time in the world.

Your hands tangle in his hair as you slowly sink onto his length, pausing the kiss to moan in each other's mouths. 

As you bottom out, he holds your hips in place, not allowing you to start bouncing. “Just give me a minute, baby. You feel too good.” he sighs out.

You find it endearing how close he already is just from the kiss, and as much as you are tempted to start the game of control back up and just start bouncing, you stay still. 

You press your body against his in anticipation, so that your stomachs are pressed together. He feels so warm against you, and his arms circle around your back as he lets go of your hips. 

You take this as a green light and start bouncing on him, never breaking the contact of your forehead against his. 

He fills you up soooo perfectly, the curve in his cock dragging so deliciously along your g-spot. You can’t help but to speed up, the sounds of his balls slapping your wet pussy fill the booth. 

He’s circled his arms around your hips now, grabbing your ass and basically moving you up and down on his cock without you having to do any work. But even with that, the awkward position makes your legs burn and you start to slow down. 

“You getting tired baby?” he asks, and you nod. “Do you need me to help you?” he asks, to which you nod again. 

He wraps his arm underneath your thighs and picks you up out of the chair as if you weighed nothing. You knew those arms would come to good use. He sets you down on the edge of the counter before entering you again. 

You keep your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he starts thrusting into you. This angle is different than before, allowing him to directly hit your g-spot every time.

His pace is somehow way more effective at pushing you to the edge than your own pace was, and you find yourself getting desperately close to your second orgasm. 

It’s as if he can read your mind, or it's probably just him feeling your pussy pulse around him tightly, but he smirks to himself. Almost too small for you to notice. But you do notice, and next thing you know he is pulling out and jacking his cock off in between you both. You whimper at the loss of him filling you up. 

“Help me cum and maybe I’ll let you cum again when I get you in my bed tonight,” he breathes out heavily. 

You huff out in frustration, but unfortunately, you are completely under his spell. You reach in between you both and take over jacking him off. Your other hand snakes around the back of his head, pulling it down towards you so you can whisper in his ear. 

“Maybe if you make me cum again tonight, I'll let you fill me up.” you whisper in his ear. 

That sends him over the edge, and he grabs the counter as he stutters in your hands, cumming all over your skirt. 

You giggle as his orgasm trails off. “You owe me a new skirt now I guess.” you say.

He catches his breath before scooping you up into his arms again. “I’ll buy you a hundred new skirts if you suck my dick my like that again.” 

With another giggle, you peck him on the nose. “So, does this mean I won the fight?” you ask. 

“I don’t know what makes you think that babygirl,” he chuckles as he sets you down. 

He hands you your shirt before finding his own. Still a gentleman even when he’s being an asshole. 

A door in the theatre opens, scaring the shit out of both of you. You both scramble into the spotlight room to put your clothes back on out of sight of the huge window.

“Hey guys! I know you’re here! The director just emailed me back with some tech notes.” Vernon yells from the audience. 

“Okay come on up, it's unlocked!” Seungcheol yells down to Vernon from the enclosed room, now fully dressed. 

He pecks you on the lips before rushing out of the room to his seat at the counter. Which you just fucked on.

You scramble to clean off your skirt with a tissue before rushing to your own chair and sitting down. But it isn’t until you sit down that you realize, you’re still not wearing panties. 

It’s as if Seungcheol reads your mind and you both lock eyes in terror. There are your panties sitting in the middle of the counter. 

The door opens and Vernon starts walking up the stairs to the booth as Seungcheol grabs your panties and haphazardly stuffs them in his pocket. 

“Hey guys, glad you're--” he stops in the middle of the sentence. “It smells like dick in here what the fuck??” he exclaims.

You hid your face, scared you might burst out laughing. 

Seungcheol takes the heat for you though, explaining it off as him leaving some leftovers in here overnight.

Vernon takes you both through some notes before leaving, with a peculiar expression on his face. 

Something tells you he has a suspicion, and you might be hearing some rumors tomorrow thanks to the nosy theatre bitches you surround yourself with…

It’s silent for a moment after Vernon leaves, before you both burst out laughing. 

“Okay well that was fun, but I’m getting my chair all wet. Can I have my underwear back now?” you ask after the laughter dies down. 

“Um, absolutely not! I’m keeping these,” Seungcheol says with a wink before turning back to his desktop to finally get to work. 

And later that night, you both get what you promised.

“oh, that’s rich coming from you cheol, i’m the one that’s pissed at you right now—surely i won’t be regretting anything.” you finally decide to bite back.

“you being pissed at me doesn’t warrant you to fucking block your own fucking boyfriend, and what the fuck were you doing on mingyu’s story?” another bang across your poor door.

thank god seungcheol had arranged for only top quality products to be furnished throughout this apartment he’d gifted you a year ago.

“yeah well—you can go and cry about it to your other bitches, i’m sure someone would love to listen to you and offer you some comfort” you faked cooed—you were not going to let this one slide.

“baby—what the fuck are you talking about? you know i don’t even bat an eye at anyone else…everyone fuckin’ knows how i’m fucking obsessed with you, i— you know it too baby!” you hear how his voice starts to strain, and you know he’s right.

ever since you both were linked, it was like an otherworldly connection that only you and him could comprehend.

soulmates—if you must. equally bat shit crazy; crazy for each other at least. well, as what they always say, negative cancels out negative right? together, you and cheol swear nothing else could feel more right.

you came to him on a hazy friday night, and he finally had a face to the name he’s been hearing thrown around the office floors. he’d been captivated by you the minute he laid his eyes on you—in your velvet black dress, donned in silver jewelry that brought out the sparkle in your eyes.

—and, what seungcheol wants, seungcheol gets. by the end of the night, he finds himself removing your jewelry, having you writhe under him, screaming and moaning the whole night, and he’s not sure if you’ve fallen for his trap, or he yours.

it must’ve been love at first sight, he always tells you.

he’s everything you ever wanted, the possessive, ever so passionate man that never takes no for an answer. he made you feel alive, made you feel like you were worth trashing the world for.

some call it insanity, but you weren’t any better. which leads to why you were in your current predicament—you were livid.

it’s not like cheol wasn’t allowed to be around the female species, just not the pretty ones. and especially not if they wear extra short skirts and extra red lips around your boyfriend.

yeah yeah…it’s not like he could avoid female employees, especially being a young and an extremely attractive director, next in line for the CEO position.

the new influx of female employees with the new batch of hires were something else, flocking towards your boyfriend blatantly every chance they get.

he may have just been doing his job to facilitate but—did he have to cross the line with his overtly friendly nature? not necessary, you think.

and you loved to play the game. blocking him all over your social media—only for him to lose his mind when he sees you dancing on mingyu’s instagram story at the club downtown.

you know how much he hates when you hang out with your guy friends, especially ones with a certain playful nature—mingyu.

to say he went berserk would be an understatement. you grin behind the door, the taste of satisfaction at the tip of your tongue, knowing you got him back.

“baby, fuck, i’ll get rid of all of ‘em—whoever it is—fuck, they’re gone by next week” and who are you if not someone that falters at such sweet words from your beau’s mouth.

that click of a door makes him sigh out a breath of relief before he immediately engulfs you in a tight embrace, stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head.

“you’ll really fire them for me babe?” your eyes soften as they look up into his, and he swoons at how pretty your eyes are, admiring your current docile state—when you’re not being batshit crazy.

he carefully removes the wine glass from you, placing on top of your black coffee table which he chose, before grabbing your cheek and pulling you in for a sloppy passionate kiss.

“anything for my baby, you are the future wife of the company’s soon-to-be CEO after all.” he smirks, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“and what she wants, she gets,” he whispers before pulling your lips towards his before you could say anything else.

his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth, tugging your own tongue playfully and soothing out every bite he gives your lower lip.

“my baby—you look fuckin’ gorgeous. i can never let you stay angry at me, hmm?” he pecks your forehead.

“gonna remind you why you’re mine and i’m yours baby,” he peppers feather kisses down your jaw tenderly.

“yeah? think i need to put my little brat in place, remind her why daddy only loves her, and how daddy only has eyes for her,” he kisses down your clavicle and sucks on a hollow spot which makes your knees buckle.

“mmffh—cheol….” you know it, you’re excited for it. you love it when he reminds you how obsessed he is with you.

“wonder what’s waiting for me underneath this pretty pink robe,” he gently tugs at the string of your little bow tied at the front.

a second later and your ribbon unravels, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the sides, and cheol lets out the most animalistic groan when he sees you completely bare and supple for him.

“so fucking pretty yeah?” he pushes you up against the nearest flat surface he can find, hands moving in urgency, grabbing any flesh of yours he can fit in those big hands of his.

you whine out as you feel his calloused hands squeezing your tits so hard, while his mouth gets busy along your jaw again. but those lips can’t stay away from your tits—he starts sucking and slurping all over—marking your mounds as you pull tightly on his locks, sinful moans after moans falling from your lips.

he breaks apart from your tits and you pout.

“my pretty girl, hands up for me.” he grabs your wrists and places them above your head and you keep them there.

“so good for me,” he sinks down and kisses all around your glistening cunt, making you squirm unconsciously. he holds on to your hips, before diving in fully, inserting that warm pink muscle deep inside your cunt you knock your head back against the wall, letting out the breathiest moan.

“pretty girl is all mine. my cunt, my tits, my girl, the prettiest.” he breathes out before he swings a leg over his shoulder and continues devouring your leaking cunt. his tongue curls up and like a deranged animal it plays with your g-spot frantically. he moans around your cunt so deeply, before he moves up and sucks your warm and swollen clit, teeth grazing every few seconds.

“cheol—too fast too fast—i’m gonna cum soon daddy,” you feel yourself reach your breaking point sooner tonight.

“that’s all i want baby, cum all over my face for me. i’m all yours to cum on,” he switches between the insane speed of his tongue and hard suction of his lips and the ribbon inside you unravels before you know it.

you let out the loudest string of moans, shaking as you clench and let out all your juices all over his face and his tongue.

cheol closes his eyes and soaks in the heavenly moment he wants to last forever. he takes in everything—your scent, your taste and continues lapping on your cunt to suck you dry.

you whine before grabbing his locks, pushing away due to oversensitivity. he looks up at you with glistening lips, and your stomach churns at the sight, feeling a new pool of arousal forming again.

he stands up, eye to eye with you, stroking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’re so fucking perfect baby, no one should dare to even stand next to you.”

he leans forward, rubbing his clothed bulge against your soaked cunt. “you feel that baby? only you can do that to me, i just need a thought of you and i go fucking insane,” he grabs your hand, guiding it to his huge bulge.

you rub teasingly above the fabric before smirking at him knowingly, “you like me that much?”

“baby, i love you so fucking much—even i can’t comprehend it. swear i’ll die without you,” he leans his forehead against yours, with an arm propped up on the wall beside your head.

you rub faster, enjoying the moment of cheol unraveling just by a touch from you.

“swear i’ll die if you don’t touch me now—and if i’m not inside you right now baby, need you,” he breaks out in desperation and you give in, unzipping and allowing him to step out of his pants.

wasting no time, he gets rid of his boxers and goes over to the couch to sit down, tapping his thigh twice, you immediately shuffle over to sit on him, warm cunt hovering over his growing cock.

“don’t tease baby, told you i need to be inside you now,” he grabs your waist before aligning your cunt to slowly sink down his red cock that’s bursting with veins, feeling like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t feel you wrapped around him.

“f-fuuuck,” you moan out, stomach twisting at how good cheol feels when he’s fully inside you, and you start to ride him, chasing that impending high that you know is coming.

“baby—you feel too fucking good, s’unreal,” cheol croaks out as he grips onto your hips tighter, guiding your pace, not wanting to come in you too quickly.

his wandering hands move on to playing with your swollen tits, your nipples so puffy from earlier it drives him crazy, “so pretty, so fucking sensitive for me always, fuck,” he tugs on them, eliciting a louder whine from you.

his keeps a hand on your tits, occasionally giving it light slaps across and he salivates at the way it jiggles. another hand reaches up, wrapping around your neck which looks too clean for him.

your face contorts in an unexplainable pleasure, and he knows he’s got you at you tipping point. “cheol—daddy, squeeze harder,” you prompt him, wanting him to push you over the edge faster.

“yeah? my little slut wants daddy to go harder? you dirty girl, my dirty girl though— my pretty dirty girl,” he groans, hands squeezing tighter at the pulse points, while he strikes one tight slap across your tits and you can’t stop moaning.

he can’t stop singing praises for his pretty baby, and all he wants is to express how much he adores you every second.

“so close daddy so close, wanna cum wanna cum,” cheol snaps his hips up faster, while maintaining the pressure around your neck.

“gonna make you cum so hard around daddy, then pump you full of daddy’s cum after—show you how much daddy loves you, yeah?” he revels in the way your voice breaks at the incessant amount of moans escaping your mouth.

“gonna cum—daddy can i cum now?” you bit down on your lips, feeling something in your lower abdomen growing and growing, threatening to spill over any minute.

“my pretty baby always so polite—yes baby, cum for daddy now,” and you let go, seeing white as you convulse and jerk around him, crying out his name repeatedly.

his grip around your neck holds you in place, “fuuuckk that’s it baby, let daddy see how hard he made you cum,” cheol will never get tired of watching you cum—especially when it’s around his cock.

“gonna let daddy pump you full now baby? i’m about to cum okay baby,” he starts to snap his hips up even rougher, before releasing a hot load inside of you with a groan and you moan at the feeling as it reaches deep inside you.

“fuuuuck, that’s it baby, take it all, take all of daddy’s cum yeah—you’re mine baby,” he moans out, panting as the last few drops paints your walls with his essence

cheol’s heart swells at the thought of you being so full of his cum—full of him. he thinks there’s no other way to express that you’re fully his other than this act of claiming.

he kisses you, stroking your cheek and uttering words of affection against your lips—and you feel that all is right with the world again.

WANTED IT TO BE LONGER THAN THIS! will be writing more of this au!! but for now,, thank you guys so much for 400 again!! can’t wait to be putting out more works soon! love u guys xx 🖤💋

“The what?” you stare at her blankly.

“Of course you wouldn’t know about him, you’re a goody goody,” Hwasa sighs. “Basically, there’s this guy in the SVT frat who makes deals and does your work for you.”

“What’s this have to do with being a demon?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a weird myth- basically, this guy helped me with an essay last year worth thirty percent of my grade. All he asked for was a family heirloom, and I think it’s his weird choice of price for favours that get him the whole ‘demon’ thing cuz he doesn’t usually ask for money like other dudes who write your papers would.”

“How did you do? On the essay?” you ask.

“Got an A. He doesn’t overdo it, he does enough to get you a good grade but not so good it’s obvious you didn’t do the work.”

“So… is he an actual demon, or?” You cock your head to the side, trying to understand the whole demon relevance.

“Nah, like I said, he’s just some hot nerd who wrote my essay. It wasn’t sketchy at all.”

“And he does this for a lot of people?”

“I’ve heard about a few. I know his friend Dokyeom was close to failing his Kinesiology course and somehow Wonwoo did his final exam for him and helped him pass.”

You let out a small laugh. You’re familiar with the Sigma Veta Tau frat, and DK is a well known figure there- getting someone to help him pass Kinesiology is very characteristic to the loud gym bro. “Wait, but, how did Wonwoo pull it off? They ID you at the final exams, don’t they?”

Hwasa shrugs. “I guess the dude pulls off miracles every once in a blue moon, maybe that’s part of his ‘demonic’ reputation.”

“Are we sure this a good idea?” you ask.

“Making a deal with the Devil?” Hwasa clarifies. “Of course, what could go wrong?”

You laugh at her choice of words. 

This Wonwoo guy definitely isn’t the Devil… and even if he was, what would making a deal with him even really include? 

You’re skeptical to say the least, but looking back at your worn out book, and your laptop document open with zero words- you begin to wonder if maybe this Wonwoo guy is a good way to solve your current predicament. 

Two:

Wonwoo quite enjoys living on campus. He loves the onslaught to his senses every time he’s out and about, mingling with university kids who have way too much on their plate. No one ever notices him, no one ever notices the things that are slightly… off about him, they’re much too busy focusing on this week’s term paper, or this week’s quiz.

No, Wonwoo’s extremely happy being exactly where he is. He’s lounging in a coffee shop that connects to the book store, his eyes darting from person to person, assessing-

That’s when his gaze locks with someone familiar.

Hwasa had come to him last year, needing an essay completed. It had been one of Wonwoo’s easier tasks, as he’s read the source material upwards of twenty times in his long life. He’s seen her around campus a few times since then, but she’s never approached him, not the way she is now.

“Hi, Wonwoo!” Hwasa grins, demenour as bubbly as ever. 

The frat boy simply nods, his gaze turning to assess you as you stand next to your friend.

“This is y/n,” Hwasa introduces you. “She’s actually struggling with an essay right now-”

“Hate to hear about an academic struggle,” Wonwoo interrupts, “especially while enjoying my coffee.” His eyes return to you again. “If you ever need a tutor, you should swing by the frat.”

“I would appreciate that,” you nod, a little breathless.

It’s clear there’s something off about you too- your heard rate is going faster than the average rate, and you’re finding it difficult to meet his gaze. 

Ah, things click in Wonwoo’s head, this particular set of responses isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with. Many girls react this way to him, getting ‘flustered,’ as humans would say.

However, what is unfamiliar, is the way Wonwoo himself is reacting to it. He finds it cute, endearing in a way- as opposed to the annoyed feeling he usually gets when women are easily infatuated with him.

“Here,” Wonwoo breathes smoothly, picking up a pen from his notepad. “Give me your hand.”

Your gaze flickers to Hwasa for a moment, and then you’re reaching forward. Wonwoo grasps your wrist, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the way you jolt from his touch. He quickly writes his phone number down on your inner palm. “Give me a call about tutoring you sometime, we can discuss details then.”

“O-okay,” you nod, immediately taking your hand back when he’s finished, cradling it close to your chest.

“If that’s all you two have to say to me,” Wonwoo breathes, looking between you and Hwasa, “I’d love to get back to my coffee.”

Three:

“Hey, I’m at the frat, where are you?” you ask as you answer your best friend’s call. You feel so awkward just standing here, trying to look like you belong even though you’re sure you stand out in the all boys frat village.

“Babes, I’m so sorry- I’m at this study group and it’s going mega late, I didn’t even realize the time and I’m across campus-”

You let out a sigh. “Are you seriously going to make me do this alone?”

“You’ll be fine!” Hwasa assures you. “Wonwoo won’t bite, it’s the daylight after all.”

She giggles, and you roll your eyes. You’re still not sure how you feel about this whole ‘demon’ thing, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid to enter a fratboy den of wolves alone.

“You’ve got this,” Hwasa says again. “If you need anything, just text me, and remember, I stalk your snapchat location so if anything happens-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh. “Okay, I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit!” 

You hang up on Hwasa, taking a deep breath and turning to the front door. You approach cautiously, raising your hand and knocking three times.

It takes a couple of moments, but eventually, a man opens the door. You recougnize Jeonghan, he’s the frat president’s right hand man, a business major with a reputation for hitting on every girl he meets.

“Well, look who it is,” Jeonghan grins, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder while he shovels some cereal into his mouth from the bowl in his hand.

He’s in an oversized white shirt and sweatpants, you’d bet he hasn’t been to classes today- and fuck it, he looks handsome, all the SVT men do.

“Sorry, hi, I’m here for Wonwoo, but I don’t think we’ve actually met,” you say awkwardly, holding out a hand.

Jeonghan’s gaze falls to your extended palm, and he chuckles. “Wonwoo gets all the cute girls,” he says, moving away from the door frame to let you inside, “but none of them ever stick around.”

“I’m here to study,” you try to explain.

“Sure you are,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. You follow him through the entryway living space, pausing as he heads back into the connected kitchen. “Wonwoo’s room is the third floor, first door on the left.” You stand there for a few moments, and Jeonghan cocks his head to the side. “You have no clue where the stairs are, do you?” 

“Nope.”

“That door,” he points with his spoon. “Don’t get lost.”

He’s a bit of an odd one, and with a final thank you, you scurry away, following his directions past a door and up three flights of stairs. You pause outside the first room on the left, swallowing thickly before you knock.

“Come in!” Wonwoo’s voice calls out. 

Before you can push the door open, it opens by itself, and you half expect Wonwoo to be standing there- only to find him seated on his bed with a book in his hands.

He’s in a black hoodie and matching sweatpants. His hood is up, but his dark curls are poking out, toying with the rims of glasses that set of the sharp angles of his face. 

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Uh-” you cough. “Y/N.” The door opening by itself had freaked you out, and you wonder how true the whole demon thing is- God, that’s been on your mind a lot.

“Come in, relax, and tell me what I can do for you,” he instructs, using his foot to push out a chair near his bed. 

You swallow thickly again, closing the door behind you and approaching. You take a seat, letting out a breath. “So basically I have an essay on Frankenstein- have you read it?”

“Of course. Have you?” he counters.

“Yeah, I’ve read it, but uh… anyways, it’s due on Halloween, which is two weeks away, and I have so many other essays to write-”

“What’s the topic?”

“Open ended.”

“How many words?”

“Five thousand.”

“That doesn’t seem very hard,” he muses with a grin, slotting a marker between his pages so he can rest his book on his chest, getting a better look at you.

“Usually it wouldn’t be, but I’m just blanking- I don’t even know where to start.” You release a stressed breath. “So I brought a family heirloom.”

Wonwoo just looks at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Hwasa said she paid you last time with her grandmothe’rs broach?” you try to explain.

“My price is different for everyone,” Wonwoo tells you, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what you brought.”

“It’s my aunt’s.” You give the necklace to him. “She got it to me to celebrate graduating highschool and getting into university.”

Wonwoo inspects the delicate silver chain, looking at the crescent moon charm with an opal in the middle. “It’s obviously valuable,” he says, handing it back to you, “but I can tell it’s not very sentimental.”

“So…” you fidget with the necklace in your palm, “what do you want?”

Wonwoo’s eyes begin to scan your form, and suddenly you feel very uncomfortable. It’s as if he’s undressing you in his mind, and it makes you fidget in your seat. His gaze lands on your chest, and you fight the urge to cover your tits-

He sits up, reaching forward- You hold your breath as his fingers brush by your collar bones, too close to the swell of your breasts for your liking- and then he’s lifting your necklace, leaning even closer to inspect it.

You can feel his breath on your skin, and he’s so close- God, why is something as simple as this so erotic? You’ve dealt with pretty boys before, but there’s something about a pretty, nerdy, dangerous boy- 

“Where did you get this?” he asks, thumb smoothing across the golden heart attached to the chain on your neck.

It’s hard to find your voice, but after a moment, you’re able to respond. “It was uh- it was from my last boyfriend.”

“An ex?” His gaze lifts to you.

“Yeah.” You can feel your skin heating.

“And you didn’t get rid of it?”

“I figure I bought him a bunch of stuff while we were dating, pretty sure this was only fifty bucks or something, so I guess I thought I deserved to keep it.”

Wonwoo nods. You watch his gaze dip to your lips, just for a moment, and then he’s releasing your necklace and leaning back into his bed again. “That will work.”

“It will?” you ask in shock.

“Uh huh. There’s a certain sort of sentimentality to it. Also… even though you say you kept it because you deserved it, buying him so many things or whatever, I think it’s a shame that a pretty girl like you is still holding onto something from the past, instead of looking at your future. I’ll take it off your hands, and you can progress now, with more than just your essay.”

You wonder what sort of motive Wonwoo has, what significance a necklace from your ex actually has on a man who’s practically a stranger.

“Okay,” you murmur, reaching behind your throat to undo the clasp. “So… how does this work now?”

“A five thousand word open ended essay on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” Wonwoo takes his glasses off, wiping them with his hoodie. “I guess, you give me some time to think it through, I text you, and you come see me again.”

You watch the way he puts his spectacles back onto his face- it’s shocking how small, simple, mundane motions can be so beautiful when completed by a man like him.

“Okay,” you nod. “I guess… I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You will,” he agrees. “Bye for now.”

He relaxes against his pillows, lifting his book and immediately turning his attention to it.

You stand up and leave without another word, your heart racing in your chest.

Once you’re outside the frat house, you call Hwasa. 

“So how did it go?” she asks. “He didn’t kill you, so that’s good news!”

“He also didn’t want the family heirloom,” you sigh.

“So what did he want?”

“My necklace, you know, the one from my ex.”

“That’s weird, why would he want that?”

“Hell if I know,” you groan. “Hwasa… he’s not an actual demon, right?”

“Of course not!” she laughs.

You wish you were as certain as she is. There’s definitely something otherworldly about Jeon Wonwoo, and one of these days, you’re going to put your finger on exactly what is different about him from any other man you’ve ever met. 

Four:

Wonwoo is standing by his window, examining the necklace in his hand. It’s such a simple little thing, but there’s so much energy tied to it. Wonwoo can see the dark aura- a tie to a past that it’s clear you’d rather forget.

Usually, Wonwoo collects items with soul ties. Family heirlooms are the easiest, as they’re connected to multiple people in different generations. When one of those people with a soul connection to the item dies, Wonwoo deams if they’re a worthy enough spirit to take as payment for his favours.

In Hwasa’s case, both of her grandparents had died recently. The grandmother had gone first, followed quickly by the grandfather, and it was the older male that Wonwoo had chosen to take for himself. His soul had been dark, a signifier of the evil in his heart when he’d been on earth.

For a demon, Wonwoo actually likes humans. He only accepts contracts that allow him to collect on bad souls, souls that he deems worthy of eternal damnation. 

Many of his kind have asked him why he’d chosen a university to call home, and in simple terms, it’s because at heart, Wonwoo has an erudite flecked soul. He loves learning, more than he’s ever loved being a demon.

He got to a point in his life where he figured, if he was going to be around forever, he might as well learn everything.

Besides all that, university is easy, students come to him, he hardly had to do any work. Students are always anxious, always busy and in need of support to get work done. They hardly think of the heirloom they pawned off to a frat boy in return for an essay or a test- and since Wonwoo waits for natural deaths to collect the souls tied to the items, there’s no harm no fowl.

With all of this being said, Wonwoo’s not used to taking an item like yours. There are only two souls tied to it, your own, and your ex boyfriend’s… Wonwoo knows which one he’ll collect.

He’s not sure why he feels protective of you… there’s just something in your aura that calls to him, something he can’t explain. 

He knows that this job will be different, in more ways than one, but something inside of Wonwoo is ready for the change, after all,  it’s been a very long time coming.

Five:

“You’re back,” Jeonghan muses when he opens the door to the frat for you. “That’s a first.”

“Hi,” you say meekly, forcing a smile. You’re still not sure how you feel about any of this, and knowing that what Wonwoo’s doing with you is unusual doesn’t help ease your anxieties.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Jeonghan sighs, opening the door wider so you can pass. As you move by him, a hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “He’s never cooked for anyone, so, just keep that in mind.”

God, these men are so odd-

You find Wonwoo in the kitchen, his back to you. He’s in a black t-shirt and it stretches tight across his broad shoulders. His curls are a little messy, as if he’s been sleeping, and when he turns to you, you find he’s not wearing his glasses.

Why is he just as pretty without glasses as he is with glasses?

This feels unfair. This feels like- well, it shouldn’t be legal, for starters.

“Hey.” Wonwoo flashes you a smile and you just about melt. You can feel your skin heating, and you hate how your body betrays you, betrays the inner lustings that take over every time you look at this nerdy hot frat boy.

“Hi,” you respond, feeling like a complete idiot as you approach Wonwoo.

“You hungry?” He looks down at the pan in front of him. “I’ve been making steak and eggs.”

“Actually, I’m really just here about the essay,” you try to explain.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo focuses on the sunny side up egg he’s making, “Give me one sec.”

You watch him finish up his meal. You’re not used to watching a man cook, and you're surprised at how skilled he is. There’s something very attractive about the way he shovels the egg out of the pan, adding it to his plate with the finished steak. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Wonwoo leads you back up to his room. He takes a seat at his work table. “You can go on the bed,” he suggests, cutting open an egg. You watch the orange yolk drip, the way he scoops some up with steak.

He’s way too attractive. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” he asks. “It’s perfectly medium rare.”

“A little too rare for me,” you admit, immediately realizing your mistake. “It looks amazing, sorry, I’m just not hungry.” 

“Sounds good. So let's talk your essay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve decided I’m not going to write it for you.”

“What?” It feels like the air is knocked out of your chest, and you stare at Wonwoo in confusion. “But uh… you took my necklace, and you wrote Hwasa’s essay-”

“It’s busy season.” Wonwoo waves his fork around absentmindedly. “The deal is, you come here, we work together, and when you need help, I’ll help. When you need a final edit, I’ll final edit.”

“Uh…” Your mind is spinning. “If you’re not going to help, I can really just do it myself.”

“I think we both know my help will be important,” Wonwoo points out. “Look, you’re a good girl. Don’t you want to feel like you did it yourself? When you came here the first time, I noticed you were hesitant, I don’t think this is something you’re used to doing.”

“I’m not,” you admit, shocked at his ability to read you. 

“With a five thousand word count, this will only take two or three hard study sessions top, in fact, since I have my steak and eggs, we can start now.”

“I didn’t even bring my book-”

“I’ve got a copy right here.” Wonwoo spins his chair, reaching for his bookshelf. He pulls out a worn version of Frankenstein, handing it to you. “I’ve got notes in here, if you want to flip through it, I’m sure you’ll find something to inspire your essay.”

You take a deep breath.

Should you do this? Should you sit here and study with him? What was the point of giving him your necklace if he’s not going to write it for you?

“You’ll keep me on track?” you ask.

Wonwoo offers you a lopsided grin. “Uh huh.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Six:

It’s your second session with Wonwoo. You’ve been carrying his version of Frankenstein around like a bible- the notes, carefully hand written into the margins, are so insightful and inspiring. At this point, you’ve reread the whole book just to get a chance to understand Wonwoo’s musings on every page.

You feel alight with determination, and your thoughts feel focused- you’re as focused with Wonwoo as you’ve ever been, which feels odd given how distracting he is.

It’s intimate in a way, to be so close to him, doing your own work while sharing a space-

Your phone buzzes, breaking your concentration.

Wonwoo looks up at you, pausing his reading. “Who’s that, your boyfriend?”

You let out a small laugh. “Just Hwasa checking in on me to make sure I’m okay with our tutoring session, you’ve got a reputation you know.”

“Do I?” Wonwoo grins, resting his book on his abdomen. 

“Uh huh, people say you’re a demon or something. Apparently coming here for help with school is a deal with the devil.” 

Wonwoo laughs. “That’s definitely a theory. What do you think?”

“At the moment, I’m not quite sure,” you admit. “All I know is, you’re helping me with this essay, and that’s what matters.”

“You know how you can check if I’m a demon?” Wonwoo asks.

“How?”

“Come touch my head, see if there are any horns.” 

Wonwoo is giving you a challenging look, and for some reason, you can’t resist.

You put your laptop to the side, sitting up. “Really?”

“Like I said, only one way to find out if I’m a demon.”

You move toward him, standing off the bed to approach where he’s seated at his desk. “Honestly… maybe this isn’t the best idea. I trust you, I don’t have to feel your head for horns.”

“I really wish you would though,” Wonwoo counters, and there’s a serious edge to his tone. His eyes are bright, looking up at you. It’s like you’re suspended in time and space, staring at each other, holding your breaths.

You reach toward his head, in the back of your mind, you’re worried he might bite you- but Wonwoo stays perfectly still. He watches your every movement, and soon, your fingers are smoothing through his curls.

Wonwoo holds back a groan at the feeling of your touch. He wants to lean in toward you, but doesn’t want to scare you off. It’s clear to him from your body language that you’re as hesitant about this as you had been when you’d first come to him for help with your essay.

You’re so soft, so pure, and he loves it.

He can hear your heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you smooth around his head, searching for horns.

God, humans are so gullible, but it’s adorable when it’s you being this way.

“Okay, no horns,” you confirm, tearing your hand back like you’ve just been burned.

You turn away, returning to his bed, and Wonwoo can practically feel the heat coming off of you. 

“Get back to work,” he says softly, loving the way he gets to sneak looks at you while you’re deep in thought. 

This arrangement is too perfect- Wonwoo hates that it will soon be coming to an end. You’ve been very productive, and as much as he’d like to take credit for it, it’s your own doing.

In some odd way, he’s proud of you, and it’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced before. 

Seven:

You can’t believe it’s your final session with your ‘tutor’. The amount you’ve gotten done in two separate days with Wonwoo is ridiculous- 

He’s your lucky charm, and it’s odd how much someone can come to mean to you in such a short time.

“Okay,” you sigh, finishing your last line of work. “I’m done.”

“Time for edits then,” Wonwoo responds, slotting a bookmark into what he’s reading before descarding the novel on his sidetable. He approaches you, sitting onto the bed. He’s so close that you can feel his shoulder against yours. He’s so warm, in the best of ways.

He’s reading over your shoulder, and you can feel his breath on your skin. God, this closeness is doing something to you- your pussy is actually beginning to throb, and it’s becoming uncomfortable. 

“Here.” You hand your laptop over to him, watching anxiously as he begins to read your essay from the top.

You’re so focused on him- each second feels like an eternity as he makes his way through your writing, discussing small edits with you as he goes through it. 

“This is good,” Wonwoo muses, making it all the way to the end. “You did really well, and with two days to spare. I’m proud of you.”

“Guess I don’t have to be stressed for Halloween,” you grin, releasing a deep breath.

“Speaking of, do you have any plans?”

“I haven’t even thought that far ahead,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, if nothing else, we throw a great frat party, you’re more than welcome to come.”

“You know what?” You stretch your arms above your head, releasing a deep breath. “I might just stop by.” 

Eight:

Wonwoo’s walking through campus when he senses something- and that something can only ever be you. He’s become accustomed to your aura, and his gaze immediately finds you, heading across the green with a friend by your side.

Your eyes meet, and Wonwoo flashes you a smile, not expecting anything to come of it.

He’s surprised when you approach, calling his name. “Wonwoo! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“Hey,” he grins, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. He wishes he could be more subtle about his attraction to you, but by the way you take him in, it’s clear that it’s not something that’s one sided. 

“Yeji, this is the tutor I was telling you about! He helped me finish my essay in three sessions.”

“It was really more like two,” Wonwoo corrects you, then his eyes find your friend. “She did all the work, believe me.”

“Yeah, after I read your notes on the book,” you grin. “He’s not even an English major, but he picks up more details in novels than I ever could.”

Wonwoo’s not used to compliments like this, especially not from pretty girls. Most just accept his work and figure their payment was a job well done enough. He doesn’t even know how to respond, and for a demon of his age, this sort of thing never happens.

You’re so pure and sweet- God, he likes you so much. But there’s something beneath the attraction, there’s a want- a want to corrupt you, a want to see how far you’ll go for him, how dirty you’ll be just for him. 

“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, finding a way to divert the attention away from himself.

You and Yeji exchange a look, and it’s your friend who nods. “We’ll be there.” 

Nine:

You don’t go to frats often, but your attraction to Wonwoo drives you through the front doors of the packed house. Everyone is dressed accordingly, and you take a moment just to appreciate the ambiance. Sure, it’s sweaty, and overwhelming, and the flashing lights are a bit much, but it feels like a community, in some sort of odd way.

You’re heading through the crowd of bodies with Hwasa when someone grabs your arm, and you’re shocked to find Jeonghan standing there. He’s dressed as a zombie of some sort, and despite the fake grime on his face, he’s still very handsome.

“Hey, repeat offender,” he grins, leaning close so you can hear him over the loud music.

“Repeat offender?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re Wonwoo’s chick now, our little repeat offender.” He’s charming, in an interesting sort of way. “Bet you’re looking for him.”

“Is he around?”

“He’s the dickhead in the oni mask, making a drink in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow Jeonghan’s directions, approaching the kitchen. It’s as full of bodies as you’ve ever seen it, but despite that, finding Wonwoo is easy.

He’s tall, and even with his back to you, you’d recougnize his shoulders anywhere.

“So how are you doing this?” Hwasa asks.

“I’m just going to go talk to him.”

“Do you need backup?”

Your eyes shift to Wonwoo again, and you find a smile appearing on your face. “Honestly, I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need anything, just scream ‘hamburger’.”

“Why?”

“It’s my safe word,” Hwasa teases, flashing you a wink before she disappears into the crowd of people dancing.

You take a deep breath, mustering your courage to approach the hot nerd. 

You move toward him slowly, coming to a stop at his side. You don’t even have to say anything, he notices you immediately, turning to assess you.

His handsome face is covered with an oni mask, and it’s a little more frightening than you’d been anticipating, especially with his wild dark curls. Oni are Japanese demons, it has horns and fangs-

“Hi,” he says, and you can hardly hear him from under the mask.

“You’re really leaning into the whole demon thing, aren’t you?” you force a laugh. 

You hear Wonwoo chuckle, and then he’s pulling the oni mask off. “Are you more comfortable now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “Actually, I think I’d also be more comfortable with a drink.”

“How much have you had already?”

“Just had a bit of a pre with Hwasa, why?”

“I guess…” he faces you, crossing his large arms over his broad chest, “when I make a move on you tonight, since our arrangement is done, I want to make sure you reciprocate, sound of mind.”

You look up at him in shock, unable to find any words with which to respond.

Wonwoo grins when you remain dumbfounded for a few seconds. “You’re cute.”

“I am?”

“More than you realize.”

“And you’re… you’re going to make a move on me?” 

“Was thinking about it.”

“What would the move look like?”

“Should I tell you? Or would you rather I show you?” 

God, why is he so hot? Why does he always know what to say? And why does his smirk look extra sexy with his slightly pointed canines? Why haven’t you realized his teeth were pointy before? You suppose he doesn’t smile enough for you to have picked up on details, but now, you’re looking at him, unhindered by shyness and limits of a tutor/semi-student relationship.

Wonwoo pulls you closer by your hips, staring down at you. “I’m going to need a verbal answer, Sweetheart.”

“Show me,” you tell him.

Wonwoo’s grin widens, and one of his hands moves from your hip to your cheek, cupping your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone, and it’s such a loving motion- it’s as if the entire frat party disappears around you. You’re so focused on him that you can hardly breathe.

Wonwoo moves closer, and you an feel his breath on your face. His lips are incredibly close, so close you could kiss him yourself- but you stay frozen, waiting on him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Wonwoo asks teasingly.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

He chuckles, and then, he presses his lips to your own, cradling you even closer with the hand on your cheek. His other palm finds the small of your back, tugging you to his chest. You find your grip going to his shoulders, exploring the muscles you’ve been thirsting over.

His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open wider to accept him in, a small groan slipping out of you.

God, he’s such a good kisser- you’re completely lost in him.

In the periphery, music is thrumming through you, but it’s muffled, disappearing as you fall deeper under the spell of Wonwoo’s kiss.

Things are getting hot and heavy fast, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be embarrassed that you’re making out with Wonwoo while surrounded by people, besides, something tells you they won’t care.

You can feel something on your lower abdomen, a pressure- and you realize that just kissing you has made Wonwoo hard in his jeans.

Your pussy throbs, so turned on that you can hardly breathe. You break the kiss, gasping. “Your room?”

“Not right now,” comes his immediate response.

“What?” You can’t help the way you feel crushed at the rejection-

“Not with the party,” Wonwoo clarifies. “I want to take my time with you, want you to be comfortable- having people fucking around outside my room while I’m exploring you isn’t my idea of a great first time.”

“That actually makes sense,” you concede.

“But… I’m okay to keep doing this,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then his mouth begins to move down to your throat, his tongue tasting your sweet spot. 

You release a moan, wrapping your arms around the tall nerd. “Yeah, we can keep doing this.”

Ten:

Wonwoo carefully walks to the kitchen, avoiding spilled liquor on the floor from the party the night before. He’s so focused on his footsteps that he almost doesn’t notice Jeonghan’s aura until he’s right next to him.

The frat boy is sitting on the kitchen counter, eating his cereal. “So…” Jeonghan muses with a grin, “that girl, huh?”

“What girl?” Wonwoo sighs.

Jeonghan scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. “The one you were making out with at the party for hours. You know, the one that keeps coming here for ‘tutoring.’”

“I helped her with an essay.”

“Sure you did.” Jeonghan pushes off the kitchen counter. “It’s cute, our resident demon has a heart.”

Wonwoo freezes, realizing that Jeonghan might be onto something, but he’ll never admit it out loud. “No, I don’t.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Eleven:

“Well look who it is,” Jeonghan grins as he opens the door to the frat. You wonder why it’s always him, why no one else is ever hanging around the living room, but you decide it’s best not to dwell on it.

“Hi,” you smile softly.

“Guessing you know where to go,” Jeonghan muses, opening the door wider so you can enter.

With one more nod to the frat boy, you make your way to Wonwoo’s room.

You knock on the door, and like the very first time you’d been here, it swings open with ease. Wonwoo’s sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. He’s wearing his glasses, and he looks so sexy like this, so domestic-

“Happy November,” Wonwoo says. 

You laugh. “Happy November.” You close the door behind yourself, standing there awkwardly. You know what you’re here for, know what you want from him now that your essay is complete- “You’re not practicing, you know, No Nut November, or anything, are you?”

Wonwoo laughs, setting his book down on his bedside table along with his glasses. “No, I’m not practicing No Nut November.”

“Good.”

Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Get over here.”

You make your way to the bed, sitting carefully next to him. “What were you reading?”

“Dante’s Inferno,” he responds casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be reading poetry from the thirteen hundreds. 

“Wow,” you laugh, “that definitely pushes the whole demon angle.”

“I’m a deal maker, Sweetheart, the whole demon thing is overdone.” He wraps his arm around you, prompting you to cuddle up to his chest.

“And yet, your door opens on its own,” you point out. 

“And?”

“As crazy as this sounds…” you take a deep breath, “I guess I’m wondering if there’s any… legitimacy to the whole demon thing.”

“How would you feel if there was?” he counters.

“I suppose I wouldn’t believe it, not really.”

“Then what’s the point in asking?”

“Maybe there’s no point.” You look up at him, marveling at his handsome features.

“So kiss me and forget about it,” he prompts, his fingers finding the bottom of your chin and making you look up at him. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile, closing the gap between your lips. 

He holds you tighter as your lips mesh, half pulling you onto his chest as his tongue explores your own. God, he still feels so good- part of you had wondered if you’d been a little tipsy the last time you kissed him, and that’s why it had felt so good- but no, this is just Wonwoo, this is just the power he has over you.

You adjust so you’re straddling him, his hands finding your hips to encourage you while you cup his face, enjoying the feeling.

You begin to wiggle, grinding down softly onto him. His cock is already hardening in his sweatpants- you love how easy it is to turn him on. It does wonders for your ego as you dry hump him, beginning to moan at the sensation on your clit.

You’re not usually this type of person, not the mega-sexual, but something about Wonwoo is making you feral. It helps that you both know why you’re here- helps that he’d rescheduled this fuck session so you wouldn’t be having your first time with a wild Halloween rager just outside his door.

Things are just comfortable with him, it’s clear you’re both extremely attracted to each other, and that turns you on even more.

One of his hands begins to glide up from your waist, skimming the underwire of your bra. You move his palm even further up, so he’s grasping your breast, and he squeezes deliciously, earning a soft moan from your lips.

Wonwoo grins into your kiss, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, forcing you even closer as he massages your chest.

You grind harder onto his cock, loving the feeling-

One flip has Wonwoo on top of you, and you whimper at the change in power dynamics. He moves his hips fluidly, applying more pressure to your already throbbing clit-

Wonwoo pulls away from your throat, looking down at you with dark eyes. “So do I need to grab a condom, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him. “Are you clean?”

“I’m clean, are you?”

“Yeah.” You lean closer, eagerly pressing your lips to his again. You’re so lost in him, nothing else matters.

Wonwoo’s hands begin to explore you again, and then he pulls away to tug on your shirt. “Off.”

You sit up, removing the fabric, exposing your bra to him.

Wonwoo looks down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so pretty, Sweetheart.” His fingers tease the strap of your bra. “How’d a pretty little thing like you ever find your way to me?”

“The essay-”

“You’re so innocent though, I could tell from the moment I met you. You wouldn’t have come to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

“No, I don’t cheat.”

“And you still don’t, you did the whole essay yourself.”

“With help from you,” you blush. 

“No, Sweetheart, it was all you.” Wonwoo kisses you again, shutting up any argument you have about using his notes. 

He makes you feel so good- it’s such a safe space, and it’s the type of situation you’re not used to. The lack of judgement, the complete support- it helps you relax, helps you get even further lost in his kiss as you make out, the both of you wriggling and grinding against each other. You love the feeling of his body, the feeling of being here with him, completely enraptured mind and soul.

Wonwoo’s lips trail down to your throat, and he begins to descend. He reaches your chest, and you breathe heavily, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips.

His fingers hook in the cup of your bra, and he pauses to look up at you, as if he’s asking for your permission. “Do it,” you tell him, trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo grins, pulling your bra down so he can access your tits fully. His tongue flicks at your sensitive nipple, and you groan at the sensation, arching your back to push your chest closer to his face.

Wonwoo’s lips suction around the sensitive bud next, and God, it feels amazing. 

Your pussy is practically throbbing- can women cum from breast stimulus alone? You might find out if he keeps this up.

His hands cup your tits, pushing them together, and then he begins to lick at both of your nipples, switching from one to the other in a pace that has you grabbing his hair, whimpering in desperation.

You feel like you’re on fire- you feel alive, writhing on this hot nerd’s bed. It feels dirty, but it feels so right too.

He continues on your breasts for a short while, until you’re good and needy, then he makes his way to your jeans. 

“I want you naked,” he tells you.

“Then get me naked,” you counter, still breathless.

With a wink, Wonwoo pulls your jeans down, and you work on your bra. Soon, you’re completely naked from him, and unlike other times you’ve gotten with men, you don’t feel an ounce of shame. 

This feels so right, and as Wonwoo begins kissing up your thighs, prompting your legs open, you just know that sex is never going to be the same. 

Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours as he takes a lick of your pussy, and you both groan. His lips suction around your clit and your muscles spasm. He pulls away with a grin, breath hot on your aching core. “So wet already,” he muses.

“I need you,” you whimper.

“You have me,” he promises, diving back into your heat.

He doesn’t hold anything back. He eats you like you’re the most delicious fruit in the world, like your pussy juices are a nectar he needs for life itself.

You grasp at the blanket on his bed, writhing beneath him while he licks and sucks and- fuck, he just knows you so well- there’s no need for direction, no awkward moments of exploration, he just… he knows what to do, and it drives you wild. You’re completely in the moment, experiencing a raw pleasure you’ve only ever read about in erotica.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and you’re a little shocked at the speed of all of this, however, you suppose the foreplay had done a number on you as well.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, abdomen tensing.

“Cum for me,” he breathes heavily against your clit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.” 

His lips wrap around your clit again, and two more harsh sucks are all it takes to send you over the edge. You gasp desperately, entire body tensing before the moment of your release.

Hot waves of pleasure erupt over your form, all consuming. You can hardly breathe, can only gasp in ecstasy as he works you through your high.

You’re not sure how long your orgasm lasts, only that you’re out of breath and brain dead by the time Wonwoo pulls away.

You can hardly open your eyes to look up at him as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are so full of lust- and for the first time, he looks truly demonic. But you’re not scared, you’re intrigued, in the best possible way.

“Fuck me,” you tell him quietly.

Wonwoo grins, and his canines flash in the light. “You got it, Sweetheart.”

He grabs the back of his shirt, tearing it off his head to reveal chiseled chest muscles. He’s got more of a sleeper build- the kind of guy you wouldn’t expect to be muscled, except that under layers of fabric, he’s actually sculpted by the Gods.

You can hardly breathe as he pulls his sweatpants down, and you’re practically drooling by the time he gets back on top of you, his lips hot against your own.

You cup the back of his neck, kissing him desperately, wiggling your hips, eager for stimulation.

Wonwoo concedes, rutting so his cock drags through your drenched pussy lips.

Neither of you say anything, you keep lip locked as he finally pushes into you. You both release gasps of pleasure, breathing the kiss to press your foreheads together as he sheaths further inside of you.

You open your eyes, looking up at Wonwoo, who meets your gaze with a fierceness that sets your insides on fire. 

He’s so beautiful- you’d checked his head for horns, but you can almost see an outline of demonic features- you must be dreaming, must be so lost in him that you’re seeing things. You close your eyes, drawing your lips to his again as he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust his hard, the tip of his long cock kissing your cervix. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but the feeling becomes pleasurable much too quickly. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, clawing at his broad shoulders.

“You feel so good,” he tells you.

“No, your cock feels good,” you correct him.

“Agree,” he presses a kiss to your lips, “to disagree.”

You laugh, and Wonwoo groans at the way your giggle makes your muscles clench even tighter around his cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, taking a deep breath. 

He pulls away suddenly, and he flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips to lift you into the air. He positions your knees together, so you’re in doggy, and then he pushes himself back into your aching hole.

Shit- things feel even tighter in this positon, and you claw at his bed, burying your face in his duvet as he plows into you. His grip is rough on your hips, but you don’t even care- if Wonwoo continues to give you cock like this, he could do anything he wanted to you, any position, and you wouldn’t mind.

Each snap of his hips sends the sound of skin on skin through his room, but that’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned about the fact that you can feel another orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, and your pussy is clenching even tighter around him now.

“You’re close again, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” Wonwoo asks.

“Uh huh, so deep-” you whimper.

“Rub your clit for me,”  he instructs. “Wanna feel it.”

You adjust, bringing your fingers to your sensitive bud. You begin to stoke yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you crying out as he rails into you.

Wonwoo shifts, bringing one knee up so his foot is flat on the bed, giving himself better manueverabilty to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s it,” he groans, squeezing your hips. “Make me cum.”

The knowledge that your high will set off his own makes you even more eager to please him, and you rub your clit even harder, whimpering desperately. 

Wonwoo lets out a grunt, and the sound is music to your ears. How is he so sexy? When did a man grunting become sexy? 

Fuck, you work yourself even harder, and Wonwoo matches your enthusiasm with his thrusts, his hands pulling your hips back to meet him with each motion.

“I’m close-” you tell him, your pussy gripping him so hard-

“Let go for me,” he responds. “Need to feel it.”

A few more circular motions on your clit has you exploding, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your pussy clamps down hard on his cock. Your entire body is alight, muscles working overtime as you contract around him.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo growls, his pace faltering as he cums inside you, filling you with a warmth that makes you spasm beneath him. 

You continue to moan as he fucks you through your highs until you’re both breathless. You can feel him breathing on your back, can feel each puff-

Your own chest is heaving with effort, your eyes closed as the last inklings of euphoria sparkle through you.

Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your hips gently, and neither of you have anything to say as you recuperate.

Finally, Wonwoo gently traces your spine with a finger. “I’m going to pull out,” he tells you. “Grab you a tissue.”

“Okay.” You nod against his bed, still too blurry from your orgasm to think too hard about anything.

The loss of his cock from your aching hole is one you feel everywhere, and you whimper, cupping your pussy to stop any cum from dripping onto his bed.

Wonwoo returns quickly, moving your hand so he can press tissue to your core. “Give it a sec, and when you’re ready we can put on some clothes and head to the bathroom.”

You stay on your knees for a few more seconds before mustering your energy. When you’re finally able to stand, Wonwoo helps you up. He pulls sweatpants up your legs, followed by a hoodie to cover your bare chest.

Then, he takes your hand, guiding you to the bathroom where you both clean up.

Everything is a blur until you get back to his bedroom, where you collapse onto the mattress against his chest, eyes closed.

Wonwoo’s hand smooths up and down your arm. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you respond.

“I’ve gotta tell you something.”

You can hear the seriousness in his tone, and you force your eyes open, looking up at him questioningly.

“I was going to wait-” Wonwoo admits, “it’s something I’ve never told anyone, not in so many words at least.” You wait for him to continue. “The whole demon thing… there’s some truth to it.”

“But… I checked for horns?” you say, confused.

“We don’t have horns, Sweetheart. We’re deal makers. You gave me your necklace, it has a soultie to your ex, one day, I’m going to drag that asshole to hell.”

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. “Sure you are, Wonwoo.”

“You don’t believe me,” he muses, lifting your hand so he can kiss your knuckles gently.

“I told you I wouldn’t, so what does it even matter?”

“I just wanted to start things right,” he confesses. “Wanted to do this right.” 

“This?” you counter, grinning up at him.

“Us. I want to give it a shot, if you’re interested.”

“I’m more than interested,” you admit. “But… I think, right now, I just need a little sleep.”

“Then sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and with a smile and a deep breath, you finding yourself drifting into the most blissful sleep of your life. Demon or not, Wonwoo makes you feel protected, and that’s not something you’ll ever take lightly.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love Wonwoo!

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🔮 preview. “You look so good like this, Sweetheart,” he whispers. “Being so good for me, so corruptible-” He has a bit of a corruption kink, but he’s never forced it on you. No, he’d shown you his toys, and allowed you to choose the pace on everything. You feel so comfortable with him, and it allows you to fully connect with yourself and your pleasure.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of sex toys, flogger, vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, breast worship, nipple clamps, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praise, soft dom Wonwoo, fingering, slight pain kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) Sweetheart. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of dating Wonwoo, and you’ve realized the whole demon thing is completely real. It was an adjustment at first, but he’d explained everything about it. There are certain demons who do the darker stuff, but Wonwoo truly considers himself a deal maker above all else. He doesn’t kill, even though, with his power, he could.

No, he’s a mellow demon, if there is such a thing. 

It’s an opposites attract type of situation, and Wonwoo’s spent countless nights admiring your aura, discussing what it is exactly that makes you the light Yin to his dark Yang. He loves you for all of your differences, and you’ve never felt more comfortable with a person- or, should you say, demon.

He’s an ageless man with a thirst for knowledge, and you’re so attracted to his deep understanding of all things literate or scientific. You find yourself constantly learning new knowledge from him, and every day you spend together is a dream you never could have even wished for.

Aside from all the educational learning experiences you have with Wonwoo, you’ve also begun to explore his sexual knowledge, and it’s a journey you never thought you’d find yourself on.

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The room was filled with music, cheers, laughter from soldiers and giggles from women, and the smell of hearty food. It was another night in the throne room, where soldiers get drunk off their asses and celebrate while you sit back and watch them. It was disgusting to look at. Seeing how they drink without care. How they act like fools. Stuffing their faces like animals. Their boisterous behavior. It was revolting. The stench of alcohol and sweat filled the air, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach. You did not understand why men behaved this way; it was repulsive.

You heard the sound of "Ahhh" from behind you.

You turn to see the man who was your husband drinking his drink down his throat in one gulp. As he finishes, he raises his cup, shouting a loud cry that makes the soldiers cheer and raise their cups in response.

'Men.'

You shake your head in belief. "Another. Bring out more wine. Tonight, we celebrate our victory!" he declares, his voice booming with excitement. The soldiers erupt in cheers and laughter, the sound echoing through the evening as you roll your eyes at the soldiers' vibrancy. Your husband notices your exasperated expression and he smiles knowingly at you.

"Now, my wife," your husband says, pulling you close to his lap. His hand grips your chiffon dress. Your face twists with disgust as he attempts to kiss you. The taste of alcohol is heavy on his breath. You push him away gently, avoiding his advances. "Don't be so uptight, my love," he slurred, his words vaguely slurred. He grabs the bottle and pours more wine into the cup. "Drink up and join the revelry," your husband said, handing you a cup of wine.

You gently push the drink away and shake your head, declining his offer. "I'd rather not," you respond, annoyed and disappointed by his persistence. "Come now," your husband said before consuming the alcohol in his cup. "Loosen up a bit; enjoy the party," he urged, his voice growing firm. But you stand your ground, refusing to give in to his pressure and maintaining your boundaries.

"No thanks. I refuse to join in such revelry," you declare, firmly holding onto your decision. He sighs in frustration, clearly frustrated with your refusal.

Your "husband" wasn't the ideal man you pictured spending eternity with. The man you loved was kind. A man who said he would do anything for you. A man who said he would move the mountains from Olympus for you if he could.

He was the one man you ever cared for, but fate snatched him away from you as he died in battle, leaving you heartbroken and alone. You prayed for the gods to bring him back, saying you would do anything. But they didn't hear your prayers in the end. For weeks, you felt devastated and hopeless, grieving the death of your true love. A few days later, you were married to another man by arrangement. By a man who was ruthless, greedy, and only saw you as some pretty little trophy to show off to his peers. And that man happened to be your now husband. He appears one day in your land and promises your father victory in the war if he takes you as his wife. Your father approved no less, and my land was victorious, and now you are trapped here.

You did not care for him, your husband. You despised him with every fiber of your being. But you had no choice but to obey and fulfill your duties as his wife despite your husband 's constant disloyalty when he's away for war. You had to learn to accept your current reality and move on. You still thank the gods for giving you strength and tenacity despite having to put up with a man like him and his behavior. As you were lost in your thoughts, you were interrupted by the cheers and conversation of the troops.

"Did you see how we conquered our enemy?"

"They didn't know what hit them."

"Especially how our king slain their leader in a single combat?

"This victory belongs to the gods."

As you listened to the soldiers celebrate, you heard a sudden "HA" from your husband. The soldier stopped conversing as you turned to see your husband set his cup down.

"You thank the pitiful gods. And why should we thank them for our victory? No. Our victory belongs to us. Not those fickle gods who only watch from above. Our strength and determination enabled us to fight and conquer. Our bravery and perseverance ultimately led us to glory on the battlefield. The gods may have observed, but our actions secured victory," your husband said confidently.

You look at him in disbelief. How can he say that? How can he talk so boldly about them like that? You felt discomfort at his blasphemous words.

"You should not say that about the gods."

Your husband glanced at you at your words. "Oh, really," your husband spoke.

Gulping down his wine before continuing, "Share your thoughts, dear. Why should we thank those pathetic gods?" he asked, his tone challenging.

"They have given us everything to help us, and we must express gratitude for their blessings. If it weren't for them, you would not have won. We must honor them and acknowledge them. We should not anger them with our arrogance," you replied firmly.

Your husband's eyes narrowed. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "We continue to show our gratitude and respect for the gods, for they have guided us through many challenges and obstacles."

Your husband scoffed at your response, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. "Gratitude. Respect. Those are just words. Tell me, wife: Did Ares lead us to battle? No. Did Athena bless us with wisdom and strategy? No. Did the mighty Zeus himself strike down our enemies? No," he said, gulping down another cup of wine.

"It was I who led us to the battle. It was I who strategized and inspired my troops. It was us who struck down our enemies and emerged victorious." Your husband growled as his men cheered, agreeing unanimously with him.

"You see, our success is the result of our diligent work and perseverance, not some divine intervention," he declared proudly. "We are the masters of our own destiny, not at the mercy of the whims of the gods," he continued, instilling confidence in his men with his powerful words.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your husband talks down to the gods. You were raised to respect and honor the gods. To thank them for everything they did. For the food they provided, for the safe travel home, for wisdom, for health. Everything. Now here he is, talking down to them. And you knew nothing would materialize if you spoke down to them. You felt disappointed at his lack of reverence for the divine forces that also played a part in their triumph. You couldn't understand how he could be so disrespectful to them, and you weren't going to stay there any longer and watch them celebrate.

You stood up from your husband's lap, and your husband looked at you in confusion. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm going to bed."

Your husband looked puzzled and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place as you tried to pull away. "What? Just because I insulted the gods, you're really going to leave. Don't you think that's too much, dear?" he replied with a hint of frustration.

"No, my husband."

You snatched your wrist away from his grip. "What's too much is that you think I can stay with someone who insulted the gods after they granted us such favors and blessings? I cannot condone such disrespect, even from you." You turned and walked away, leaving your husband to ponder his actions.

You exit the throne room, strolling down the hall to your bedroom, feeling anger and disappointment. How can he not understand? How can a man be so selfish and ignorant? You shake your head in disbelief. As you strolled along, you saw your maid, Sumni, carrying merely a food tray. She looks up to see you and gasps slightly.

"My lady Y/N," your maid Sumni notices you.

Sumni was one of the people you genuinely enjoyed in this kingdom. She was a great listener, very attentive, and very kind. "Is everything okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. You pause, debating whether to confront her about your husband's behavior. But you nod your head and reply, "Yes, Sumni. I am fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."

Sumni nodded understandingly. "Would you like me to accompany you to bed?" she asked kindly. You shook your head and declined her offer, thanking her for her concern. Sumni smiled warmly at you before dismissing herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You continue your journey to the bedroom. As soon as you arrive at your bedroom door, you push the door open, step inside, and slightly close it. You sigh as your head presses against the frame, exhausted from the day's events.

"Long night!"

You heard a voice behind you. You turned around to see a mysterious man lying on his side across from your bed, a mischievous grin on his face. You felt a jolt of surprise at the man's unexpected presence in your bedroom. "Who are you?" you asked cautiously, your heart racing uncertainly. The man chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just someone who couldn't resist meeting you."

You glanced at the man's appearance. He had a white toga draped over his shoulder and a gold cuff wrapped around one of his biceps, which was exposed. His pec was exposed, while the other was concealed under the toga. His toga was short so that you could see his muscular legs. His eyes were pierced brown, and his smile was charming. His hair was black and wet, and he was breath-taking. The more you look at him, the more you find yourself drawn to his mysterious aura. You were so lost in thought that you heard him laugh.

"What's the matter, darling? Lost in thought?" he asks with a playful smirk.

You shook your head, cleared all your thoughts, and got to the question.

"W-What are you doing here? You are trespassing, and I would appreciate it if you left immediately," you stammer, feeling a mix of fear and fascination at the mysterious stranger in your room. The man chuckles, his grin widening as he replies.

"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the celebration of your king's victory. As if your husband needed it," the man said.

A small scoff escaped his lips. "That your husband of yours," he continued.

"That man thinks we are not the reason behind his success. He's so power-hungry and incompliant that he can't even get on his knees and thank us after what we've done to make him victorious. I must say I don't think they'll be so happy to hear about that. It's a shame. Really. How ungrateful people can be," the man said with a hint of disappointment.

You listen as this man talks badly about your husband like he knows him. Before you could speak, he continued.

"But you, Lady Y/N."

You froze as the mysterious man said your name.

"You're such a loyal worshipper. You thank the gods for every endeavor and never falter in your devotion. A woman like you should be rewarded," the man expressed.

The way the man in front of you looks at you. It was like he was undressing you with his eyes. His gaze was intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to maintain your composure.

"W-Who are you?" you said, asking again.

The man smirked at my question.

"I am known by many names. Zojz. Tinia. Jupiter. Zeus. But," the man said as he slowly rose from your bed, full of confidence, "you can call me Seungcheol."

Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the man's true identity. "M-My... God," you stammer, feeling two emotions at once: fear and awe wash over you. You instantly fall to the floor, bowing. "Please forgive me for any disrespect I may have shown," you say, bowing your head in reverence.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, his grin widening at your reaction. A loyal follower, he thought to himself. He slowly approached you as you kowtowed before him, his presence towering over you. "Rise," he commanded gently, offering a hand to help you stand. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel an admiration and reverence for the god standing before you.

"There will be no formalities," he said. As you take his hand and stand up, Seungcheol's eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller than you expected, and his presence exuded a sense of power and authority that made you feel equally intimidated and intrigued.

"My god."

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say, and the words hadn't even begun to form. Seungcheol noticed your awe and chuckled softly.

"You seem lost in words right now, darling," Seungcheol said. His deep voice resonated through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was as if he could read your thoughts and emotions with just a glance.

"I- It's just that I didn't expect such a sudden visit," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked. You shake your head quickly. "N-No. Please stay. I didn't mean—"

"Don't worry, darling," Seungcheol interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Just teasing you a bit."

His smile was gentle and warm, putting you at ease. He then stepped away from you and trailed around the room. Taking in everything about his surroundings, even looking at the unfinished tapestry mounted on the wall. With a persistent and powerful head, he strolled around.

"Besides, I didn't want to leave without giving you a gift," Seungcheol stated.

A gift... for you...

"W-What kind of gift?" is all you can manage to stammer out of. "A special one," he answered.

"How special is the gift?" you asked, curious. Seungcheol finally stopped walking and turned back to you with a mysterious glint in his eyes, making your heart race with anticipation.

"What if I told you that your gift, your special little gift, was something that I wanted to show you? To thank you for showing such admiration for me." Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. Your mind raced with possibilities as you waited for him to reveal the surprise he had in store for you.

"What if I said your gift was me? Would you believe me?" Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for your response.

"Y-you, my god," you stammered out, feeling a rush of emotions at his unexpected revelation. Seungcheol nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You have been such a loyal follower. Why not reward you for your dedication? Besides, I think you deserve it," he declared as his eyes never left yours.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Him. Your god. Offering himself. To you. As a gift. It left you speechless and overwhelmed with emotions. You couldn't. You didn't know what to say. Minutes ago, you were in the throne room with your husband and his soldiers, and now you're here with Seungcheol, your god, offering himself to you as a reward for your loyalty. The weight of his offer combined with the intensity of his gaze left you breathless and unsure of how to respond.

"My god."

"Seungcheol," he interrupted, his smile widening.

"Seungcheol. I-I couldn't conceivably accept such an offer," you stammered, turning around.

This was so much to process right now. You. You simply couldn't accept it, even though it was tempting. Even if you were completely captivated by him. You couldn't accept it. You just couldn't. The internal struggles were overwhelming as you were torn between your desire and your duty. The conflict within you was palpable, but you knew you had to answer.

You were so lost in your thoughts. You didn't even hear him coming behind you as you turned around and found him standing right before you. Frightened, you took a step back, and your back hit the wall behind you as he trapped you with his arms on either side of your head as he towered over you. Your breath quickened as you met his intense gaze.