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❝ When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention. ❞

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader

genre: teacher au, cam girl au, college au, smut

word count: 9.3k

warnings: illicit relationship, imbalance of power, age gap (reader is in her 20s and wonwoo is in his 30s), sex work, drinking, lots of pining, jealousy, misunderstandings, professor!wonwoo, student!reader, cam girl!reader, masturbation (f and m), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, office sex, car sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!wonwoo

a/n: this has been in the works for way too long and i’m so happy with how it came out. hugest shoutout to the nonny who sent in the ask that started it all. minors dni!!

You think you might actually die.

If you didn’t spontaneously combust from how embarrassed you felt, then you were going to go find a cliff to throw yourself off of. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this badly, and it doesn’t help that it’s all your friends can talk (and laugh) about as you’re having dinner.

“Maybe he didn’t open it.” Vernon tries to reason.

“Yeah, right.” Soonyoung snorts. “He probably already clicked on the link and is jerking off to her videos right now.”

Chan’s laugh is one of the most endearing sounds you’ve ever heard, but right now it just sounds annoying. You’re glad you ordered an alcoholic drink with your meal because otherwise you wouldn’t be able have this conversation. When your friend sees your sour pout, he quickly changes his tune.

“You’re worrying for nothing. I’m sure once he saw what the site was, he clicked off.” Chan says as he not-so-subtly scoots his chair away from you. “He’s like the most respectful guy ever.”

“Chan’s right.” Vernon is quick to agree. “Professor Jeon isn’t the type to cross those boundaries with a student. You said you sent him an email saying it was a mistake, right? He’s a nice guy, so—”

“How fucking naive can you two be?” Soonyoung cut in with an incredulous look on his face. “I know his type. Those quiet guys are the biggest freaks behind closed doors. He’s definitely the type to fuck a student. I’ll put money on that shit.”

Chan pauses to mull over the Soonyoung’s words while Vernon can only offer him an exasperated glare. The two boys know better than anyone how you feel about your professor, and they also know that the older man was the only person in the history of the universe to treat you coldly. This was definitely the worst situation you could ever find yourself in, but Soonyoung was too oblivious to see that fact.

Being the sweetheart that he is, Vernon is quick to change the topic. “Seokmin just texted me. He said everyone is on their way to Jihoon’s place. Let’s get the check.”

For a moment, it seems like your inner turmoil will be forgotten. Sure, you do have class early in the morning, but right now you were going to focus on having a good time at Jihoon’s party. And Vernon was probably right. Professor Jeon was the sweetest, most respectful man you had ever crossed paths with. He probably deleted the email after realizing what it was. And even if he hadn’t, this moment would eventually pass.

After all, no one ever actually died from embarrassment.

Everything was fine until the four of you are about to leave the restaurant and Soonyoung lets out a sound that resembles a chicken being strangled. His eyes are bugged out as he comically gestures across the dimly lit place. Your heart twists uncomfortably when you finally see what has him acting like a fool.

“I told you so.”

Those four words are the ones you hate the most in the world, especially when they’re coming from Kwon Soonyoung. You love him, you really do, but his lack of perception is fucking maddening sometimes. It’s especially infuriating in situations like the one you were in now.

“No fucking way.” Chan whispers with his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”

“Just because they’re having dinner together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.” Vernon reasons, obviously trying to spare what was left of your feelings.

“Who cares?” You manage to say without letting your voice tremble with the heartbreak that was currently seeping into your bones. “Let’s get out of here before they see us.”

Soonyoung only scoffs, not able to believe that your nosy ass doesn’t seem to care about the juicy scandal the four of you had stumbled upon. Vernon starts to push him out the door while you and Chan hurriedly follow behind them. Luckily, you manage to make it out of the restaurant without catching the attention of your English professor and his TA.

Normally, you would’ve loved to be a witness to any potential gossip, but this was different because you just so happened to be the tiniest bit in love with your professor. The more rational part of you knows that it doesn’t really mean anything that Professor Jeon was having dinner with his TA, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little bit (a lot).

No one ever died from embarrassment, but apparently dying from a broken heart was real.

“This is actually a good thing for you, Y/N.” Soonyoung says once you’re all in Chan’s car and driving to Jihoon’s party.

You grit your teeth and manage to answer him in a somewhat calm voice. “What are you talking about?”

“If Professor Jeon says anything about the link you accidentally sent him, you can tell him that you know he’s fucking his TA.”

It actually wouldn’t be a bad idea if even talking about the very possibility that those two were having an illicit affair didn’t feel like someone had punched you in the stomach. But instead of letting any of them see how much it actually hurt, you only offered what you hoped was a convincing laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

You look out the window as the conversation takes a different turn, not noticing the looks Vernon keeps giving you all the way to Jihoon's apartment. He doesn’t say anything because you keep speaking and laughing like everything is fine. He should’ve recognized your calm and aloof behavior as a sign that you were on the verge of spiraling, but he didn’t.

Even as you unbutton two more buttons of your pretty blouse and hike up your skirt when you enter the party, he doesn’t say anything. It’s easy for him to assume that you want to hit on some of Jihoon’s producer friends for fun as you often did after getting a little tipsy.

It’s not until he sees you drinking like the world is running out of alcohol that he feels the need to intervene. Vernon quickly walks over to you, eyeing you with blatant concern. You don’t even acknowledge him as he goes to stand beside you.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

You ignored your friend’s concerned voice and downed another shot. In the back of your mind, you know he’s right, but the need to forget about your hurt feelings and humiliation was far greater than reason. Besides, you can hardly taste the alcohol anymore which makes it easier to drink to your heart’s content.

“This is a party, Vernon.” You remind him. “I’m only trying to have a good time. I deserve to, don’t you think?"

Of course he thought you were in desperate need of a fun night out. In fact, he’s the one who convinced you to come since it had been a hot minute since you left your apartment for something that didn’t involve working or school.

But Vernon can see that the way you’re drinking is only an after effect of what you saw at the restaurant, and if you kept this up you were going to black out like you did at Junhui’s party freshman year. Because he didn’t want to relive that night, he makes sure to bring you plenty of water and keep you within his sight. If he couldn’t stop you, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.

Maybe you’re acting childish, but you don’t really care at this point. All you can focus on is the pain that’s tightly gripping your heart. The alcohol helps a bit, but you still don’t manage to forget the events leading up to your irresponsible drinking.

You could get over your little slip up, and even the fact that Professor Jeon was potentially fucking his TA. But what really hurt is that your English professor seemed to display this great disposition to everyone in the world except you. Sure, you should’ve been grateful that he probably didn’t open the link you sent him because he was having dinner with TA, but your fucked up mind and heart couldn’t care about that for some reason.

It’s not fair, you can’t help but think.

You were down bad, but it wasn’t your fault. Every time your English professor smiles, you feel like your heart is going to implode. The way his kind eyes always form into crescents as the softest smile ever graces his face is possibly the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.

What’s not fair is the fact that Professor Jeon has never directed his pretty smile at you. Not even once.

It’s not like he’s never had the opportunity to do so. You purposely arrive early to his class in order to sit at the very front, and not to mention that you’re very vocal during discussions and always answer his questions. But all he’s ever offered you is a fleeting glance and a nod of acknowledgement while the entire English department gets that stupidly endearing smile of his.

Chan always tells you how thirsty you look during class, and when you make the argument that he wouldn’t know since he always sits all the way in the back, he actually laughed at you.

You lean forward so much that it looks like you’re about to fall out of your seat, he’d said.

After you catch yourself doing exactly that during one of Professor Jeon’s more riveting lectures, you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. If Lee fucking Chan—one of the most oblivious people you had ever met—had noticed your massive crush, then you were 100% sure your professor had as well.

Just thinking about it made you cringe and down another shot. The burning feeling made you come to a decision. If your professor didn’t care for you, then so be it. Tonight was the last night you would feel heartbroken over him. You were going to shove him out of your heart and mind if it was the last thing you did.

Wonwoo can’t describe the feeling in his chest when his class is ten minutes away from starting, and you’re not already in your usual seat. He tries to brush it off because maybe you’re just running late. After almost an entire semester of always being early, it was only logical that you would be late at least once. Things happened, and he was sure you would show up soon.

At least, that’s what he thinks until it’s actually time to start the class and you’re still no where to be seen. It bothers him and it shows. Bad.

The class is probably the worst he’s had since he first became a professor, but that was the least of his concerns. All he can focus on is the uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut as he thought about the possibilities of why you didn’t show up to class. Wonwoo doesn’t want to believe that you’re too embarrassed to show up because of the link you accidentally sent him.

You had sent him an email containing the correct link and profusely apologizing about thirty seconds later, and after he saw the name of the website he could see how the mistake was made. Unfortunately for you, the two websites were very similar in name.

If you really were avoiding coming to class because of that, he wishes you would give him a chance to tell you that he wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. But Wonwoo doesn’t get the opportunity to speak to you as soon as he hopes because almost an entire week goes by until he sees you again. He sees you on the way to his office and calls out your name before he realizes what he’s doing.

The way you’re expression drops into a cold discomfort makes him falter a bit. Where was that bright smile you always directed at him? It only makes Wonwoo certain that you were still mortified over what happened.

“I didn’t see you in class on Tuesday.” Wonwoo says after you awkwardly greet him. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... personal stuff.”

The air is painfully awkward, and Wonwoo can’t stand the abrupt shift in your behavior. He needs to let you know that what happened shouldn’t make you feel uneasy around him because he understands that it was a mistake. However, he doesn’t react fast enough to do so.

“Professor.” You say hesitantly, nervously biting at your bottom lip. “Did you click on the link I accidentally sent you?”

You’re looking at him so shyly and nervously that he becomes powerless immediately. Wonwoo wants to make you feel more comfortable, but he also is unable to lie to you. “I did.” He says honestly. “But once I realized you sent the wrong website, I clicked off.”

Wonwoo can tell his honestly doesn’t make you feel any better. Just as he goes to comfort you, your attitude suddenly shifts.

“I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” The apology sounds sincere, yet it’s missing the usual warmth your voice held whenever you spoke to him. “I have to go. I’ll see you in class.”

Wonwoo’s heart sinks when you run off without even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Maybe this is his own fault for taking your once sweet attitude toward him for granted. He never thought a day would come where you would actively avoid him.

A sudden determination to have things go back to the way they were overcomes him. Unfortunately, things got worse before they got better.

When he sees you again, you’re not early. You aren’t late either, but it’s odd to see that you don’t seem to care to be early anymore. And you don’t sit right at the front either. No, this time you sit all the way in the back between two boys—Lee Chan and Xu Minghao. This somewhat bothers him, but he can’t really be upset. After all, you were allowed to sit wherever you wanted.

It’s not until he sees you giggling and talking with those boys—particularly Minghao—during his lecture that he really gets agitated. He carries on as normally as he can, but this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is expanding up into his chest keeps distracting him. Deep down, Wonwoo knows this feeling is nothing more than petty jealousy.

Your new behavior carries on for weeks, and it makes Wonwoo feel like he’s losing his mind.

Finally, he decides he can’t keep his frustrations pent up inside and does something he knows he shouldn’t. When he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and gets on his computer. He opens the browser and is quick to click on the only site that’s on his favorites. Wonwoo quickly logs in, the action of typing his username and password is muscle memory at this point.

His eyes don’t mind the videos on the homepage, he only focuses on going to his subscriptions and clicks on the only profile he has under his favorites. Wonwoo let’s out a laugh. It’s quiet and slightly bitter. It’s funny how worried you were about him clicking on the link when he had been watching your streams since before you became his student.

Wonwoo feels a sense of sour accomplishment. He’s gone almost an entire week without watching any of your videos, but that was all in vain. As he scrolls down, he notices that you’ve done two streams since he last watched you. Just as he was deciding which one he was going to watch, he got a notification.

brattydoll sent you a message!

It’s pretty certain that Wonwoo flinched so hard it can be seen from space. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, and it almost feels wrong that this is happening to him. But he shoves all those thoughts aside and quickly clicks on the notification.

brattydoll: hi! you were the top tipper for the stream i did last week. as usual, you are eligible for a private stream. let me know what time and day best works for you xoxo

It takes him less than a minute to type a response to let you know he’s ready now. He waits in anticipation for your message, really hoping you say you’re ready too.

His dick starts to get hard when you tell him you’ll be ready in ten minutes while also explaining the boundaries you have while doing these private streams. He doesn’t really need a reminder since he’s won a private stream from you a couple of times before. Honestly, all he can really focus on is how he’ll get to have you all for himself. He quickly strips down to his underwear before he settling into his chair.

Wonwoo feels his cock twitch when you pop up on his screen. You have a sweet, seductive smile on your face as you gaze at your screen. It’s not like the one he was used to, but at least he can pretend you’re directing it at him like you know who he actually is. He’s fully hard by the time he notices that you’re wearing the lingerie set he sent you recently. You look absolutely divine in it. His very own temptation. Licking his lips, Wonwoo starts typing into the chat.

you look beautiful, baby. how have you been?

“How have I been?” You tilt your head innocently. “Horny. But what else is new?”

Fuck. This is exactly why he could never look you in the eyes for too long when he saw you in person. Wonwoo was always afraid you would be able to tell how much he wanted you if he looked at you too long. He was never good at hiding his feelings, after all.

“Do you like how your gift looks on me?” Your sultry voice asks, and Wonwoo feels his heart pound when your smile becomes affectionate.

i fucking love it. i knew it would be perfect for you.

Your tantalizing grin makes Wonwoo wish he was there with you. God, how he would ruin you.

“Before I start, I have one question.” You say as you lick your lips. “Are you not gonna let me see your pretty little cock?”

Wonwoo lets out a deep breath because he can literally feel his cock throb in need. He quickly angles his webcam so you can only see his torso before he turns on the camera. Your wolffish grin has precum oozing from his bulbous tip, and he thinks vaguely that he would fuck that complacent smirk right off your face if ever given the opportunity.

“Thought you were getting shy on me, baby.” You say as your hands start to trail up your body.

never.

You giggle sweetly, and Wonwoo feels like he can come from the sound alone. He wonders if you know exactly what you do to him and everyone who gets to see you like this. He suspects you do.

“I missed you.” It comes out breathy as you start to knead your tits. You bite your lip before pulling off your bra. “You hadn’t been on my latest streams, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t your favorite cam girl anymore.”

If only you knew.

you’ll always be my favorite, kitten.

You moan softly when you see the chat, thumb and index finger pinching and tugging at your nipples. “You promise?”

Wonwoo types a quick yes before he grips his cock, thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading the precum all over his tip. His large hand starts to pump his cock, watching as your eyes focus on the what he squeezes and tugs on himself. Wonwoo lets out a shaky groan when he sees your thighs squeeze together.

let me see that pretty pussy, baby.

You’re quick to push your panties to the side and your two fingers along your wet lips. Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to your pussy. Watching you use your arousal to lubricate your fingers is driving him insane, and he has to slow his movements when you sink your fingers into your cunt. He wonders what face you would make if it were his fingers fucking you instead. They’re so much bigger than yours are.

“Fuck.” You moan as you start to grind into your hand.

Wonwoo watches as your fingers move in and out of your cunt, eyeing the way you arousal is dripping down to your ass. Fuck. He wonders if you always get so wet or if the sight of his cock is getting you off. Part of him feels content deludedly believing it’s the latter.

Your moans grow louder when your fingers brush against your sweet spot. It’s rare that you imagine it’s your subscriber’s dick inside you and not your fingers, but cockydom’s cock is just so big and pretty that it’s hard not to. The other part of you thinks about your hot professor despite the fact that you were trying to get rid of the feelings you had for him. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Wonwoo curses as his movements speed up. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you play with yourself while pretending that his fist is actually your sweet little cunt.

you close, baby?

“So close.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm building up. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come with me?”

He’ll do anything you want. Instead of telling you that, Wonwoo types in the chat to keep your eyes on him. He wants you orgasm to the sight of him coming.

You’re glad your eyes are focused on the pretty dick on your screen because it makes it easier to reach your orgasm. The sight of the flushed cock aching and throbbing makes you clench around your fingers. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips are bucking into his hand as he squeezes around the sensitive tip. His thighs are quivering, and with a few more drags of his fist, you see the first rope of cum shoot out of him.

Wonwoo lets out a strangled gasp as his cock throbs wildly with each ribbon of cum that shoots from his tip. He comes so much that his seed covers his hand and abs. It glistens over his pulsing dick while he fucks his hand through his high. He smirks when he sees that you’re eyes are completely fixed on him as he milks every last drop from his cock.

A low moan tumbles past your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Wonwoo is careful to watch your facial expression, his fist subconsciously speeds up. You're just so fucking hot, and he just imagines how you would look coming on his cock.

You smile nicely and sweetly at the camera, biting your lower lip as you moan softly and rub a thumb over your clit. Two fingers spread yourself so he can see the way your folds glisten with your slick. Wonwoo’s zero in on your quivering cunt and the fingers that held them open. He just wants to take them in his mouth and suck them dry.

“I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” You breathe out blissfully. “You always do this to me.”

Wonwoo swallows thickly. Fuck. You’re turning him on all over again.

“Let’s end it here, baby. Be sure to watch my next stream.”

And just like that, the screen goes black and Wonwoo is left staring his own reflection.

Sometimes you have to wonder if your life was fate’s way of punishing you for something you had done in a previous life because there was no fucking way you were this unlucky without any reason.

When you agreed to meet Seokmin for dinner, you never thought you’d be itching to leave the moment you arrived. All you wanted to do was have fun and distract yourself from your failing plan to get over Professor Jeon, but unfortunately for you, fate had other plans.

After the hostess leads you to your table, it becomes clear that bringing along Soonyoung and Chan was a mistake. Because sitting at the table alongside your friend was none other than Professor Jeon Wonwoo. You nearly trip over yourself because not only is he there, laughing and talking without a care in the world, but he looks so fucking hot while doing so.

The older man isn’t wearing his glasses and his hair is slicked up, exposing his forehead. Your professor looks like an absolute dream, but all you can see him as is a nightmare in the flesh.

This could not be happening to you.

It always slips your mind that Seokmin is older than all of you, but now you know that you’ll never forget. You considered turning around and making a stealthy escape, but your overenthusiastic friend spots you before you can even make a move. He greets all of you with a loud shout. At this point you can't just run away no matter how badly you want to. But you decide to stifle all your feelings, and try your hardest to not act like a skittish animal.

“Professor.” Chan greets casually as you three go to sit, and you envy that he’s so nonchalant. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I haven’t seen Seokmin in a long time.” Wonwoo says, noticing how you’re doing everything in your power not to look at him.

He won’t stand for it. Not anymore. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N.”

It gives him a sick thrill to see you shiver at his words. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He manages to smile instead of smirking like he wants to. Wonwoo has always known you’ve felt an attraction toward him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. After all, you were his favorite student.

“Don’t be so awkward!” Seokmin chastises you after you tensely greet your professor. “Wonwoo is just a normal guy right now! Don’t even think of him as your professor.”

If only that’s why you felt so uncomfortable.

Your first mistake of the night was bringing your moronic friends who can’t take a hint. The second mistake was ordering a round of shots to ease your nerves. It’s not like dinner isn’t going smoothly, but the coiling in your stomach refuses to let you relax.

You try to engage as much as you can without letting your emotions slip through, but your professor keeps making it hard. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he seems interested in everything you have to say, no matter how small. You can’t help but feel a little bitter at that.

Where was this energy when you were making a fool out of yourself during his many classes?

“Y/N.” Seokmin calls in a singsong voice after he downs another shot. “A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.”

You try to ignore Wonwoo’s piercing stare, but it’s hard. Instead of focusing on your professor’s uncharacteristic behavior, you cast a fleeting glare at Chan. He can never keep his mouth shut, and this time you don’t know how you’re going to keep yourself calm enough to answer Seokmin.

Somehow, you manage to respond normally. “I wouldn’t say that. This little birdie is obviously mistaken.”

“Really?” Soonyoung cuts in, and you can literally hear the alcohol starting to dictate his actions. “Because Minghao has been wanting to fuck you since high school, and you finally went out with the kid last week. It’s gonna break his heart to know that you don’t want to be his girlfriend.”

You clench your jaw and give Seokmin a look that said, control this fool before I murder him. Sure, maybe it would’ve been good for Professor Jeon to think that you weren’t trying to get at him because of the link you’d sent him, but talking about Minghao’s apparent schoolboy crush on you was not the way you wanted to do that. Also, it was just uncool to air out someone’s intimate feelings like that.

Before any of you could intervene and stop Soonyoung’s drunken ramblings, your dear friend keeps talking. “Of course you’re not obligated to return his feelings. If that’s the case, Seungcheol also wants to go out with you. Just let me know."

Chan might not be very observant, but he knows when you’re on the verge of exploding. He definitely does not want to see you on the warpath because it’s possibly one of the scariest experiences he’s ever gone through. So he quickly intervenes before you decided to shove one of the utensils on the table down Soonyoung’s throat.

“You said Jihoon asked you to sing on the new song he’s workin on.” Chan cuts in before Soonyoung can keep talking. “Did you say yes?”

This shift in conversation works out for all of ten minutes before Soonyoung starts up again. However, he’s now changed his target to your English professor.

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung slurs the name slightly. “Can I ask you something?”

You can see the disaster waiting to happen, and you only hope he doesn’t do anything to perturb your teacher. As you share a look with Chan, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“Since you’re not my teacher anymore, I feel comfortable asking you this.” Before he can say anything, Soonyoung continues. “Are you fucking your TA?”

Everything just goes silent.

Seokmin’s smile drops instantly. All he can do is gawk at Soonyoung. Chan looks at Professor Jeon while hiding his mouth behind his hand, and you just know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. That dumbass finds it funny, but you know that your friend isn’t done with his drunken questioning. Professor Jeon doesn’t seem all that fazed. He only blinks slowly before his eyes fall to you.

You’re not sure what Wonwoo sees when he looks at you, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. When he looks back at Soonyoung, there’s a lethal coldness in his eyes that you never in a million years thought you’d see. If looks could kill, your friend would be nothing but dust at this point.

“No, I’m not fucking my TA.” His deep voice comes out in a growl and you almost want to hit yourself for feeling turned just by the sound of it. “Why would you—?”

“You don’t have to lie. You’re amongst friends here.” Soonyoung declares with a laugh.

God, you’ve never wanted to throttle anyone more than you did right at that moment.

“Besides, you were seen having dinner at Michelins.” Soonyoung says before he gestures to himself then to you and Chan. “By us.”

It was official. You were definitely paying for something wicked that you had done in a past life.

Wonwoo’s shocked gaze falls to you, but you and Chan are too busy looking like you were one more word away from strangling Soonyoung to pay him any attention. Ten shades of horror goes through him at that moment because even though there was nothing going on between him and his TA, he didn’t want you to think there was.

“Aha,” Seokmin chuckles nervously. “Soonyoung’s a little drunk, I guess.”

“That’s right.” You say with a disgenuine smile and gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Luckily, Seokmin is quick to call for the check with the pretext of needing to get up early to go record with Jihoon. You share a look with Chan as you all get up, knowing you were both utterly fucked. Sure, Professor Jeon didn’t seem like the petty type, but Soonyoung had a way of bringing that side out in people.

“Wanna share an Uber?” Chan asks you as he hold on to a wandering Soonyoung.

Again, you ignore your professor’s piercing gaze and shake your head. “Minghao’s gonna take me home.” You say as you gesture behind you to the waiting car.

Wonwoo watches with a clenched jaw as you slip away after only offering him a halfhearted farewell.

Since his plan didn’t work this time, he was going to move to Plan B.

It makes him smirk a bit. Soon enough, you’d be the obedient, earnest student you were before this entire mess started.

If Wonwoo felt hesitant about executing his plan before, he definitely doesn’t after seeing the way your attention is focused on Xu Minghao the entirety of his class. He can barely manage to keep a calm facade as he tells you that he needs you to see him before his office hours are over. Just as he hoped, you come just when there’s about ten minutes left. He knows you do it so you wouldn’t have to spend much time with him.

You try to rush him because you can’t stand him when he has his hair slicked up and no glasses on. And you feel like you’re going crazy because it almost seems like he’s aware of this with the way he’s looking at you.

“I wanted to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around me after what happened the other night.”

It’s a shame that you can’t tell him that you don’t want to talk about it, especially with him. Instead of telling him that you just wanted him to get out of your mind and heart, you only offered him an impassive shrug. “I don’t. Is that all?”

“I also hope you know I’m not sleeping with my TA.” Wonwoo says in a slow drawl that makes a familiar heat gather at the pit of your gut.

“Yeah.” You breathe out shakily. “I know you wouldn’t sleep with a student or someone who was your student.”

You feel like a wounded gazelle when Professor Jeon starts to stalk toward you. A quiet squeal leaves your throat when he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “Who says I wouldn’t?” He hums against the shell of your ear. “I’m not fucking my TA because she’s not the one I want.”

A dull thumping sound fills your ears, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s your heart. You swallow thickly and look at Wonwoo with wide eyes when he pulls away from your ear. “I… but this—”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He purrs in that deep voice of his, and you can already feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. “Despite what you all think, I’m a cocky dom.”

It takes you half a second to figure out what he’s implying. Your jaw drops, feeling like you’ve been body snatched and dropped in an alternate universe. “You—! You’re—!”

“Don’t get shy on me now, kitten. That’s not you.”

If he’s cockydom, then he’s been watching you for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been his student. It flatters and mortifies you all at the same time.

“Do you know how hard it was to have you so close without being able to touch you?” Wonwoo groans as he presses closer to you. He smirks when you whimper at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you.

“I couldn’t even look at you without thinking about your pretty little cunt.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. His coldness, his unwillingness to pay you much attention, everything. That’s all you need to realize before you smash your lips on to his.

Wonwoo moans into your mouth, hands sliding down beneath your skirt to dig into your ass. His cock twitches when he feels that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Fuck. He was going to ruin you in every way possible.

You slowly guide him toward his desk without disconnecting from his lips, needing him to fuck you like you’ve dreamed of him doing from the moment you saw him. Just as you’re about to bend over his desk and show him how wet you already are, a knock startles you both.

“Professor? Can I come in?”

You both recognize it as his TA’s voice, and just as Wonwoo is about to tell her to get lost, you put a finger to your lips. He can only watch as you drop to your knees and crawl under his desk before you motion for him to sit down. It’s almost comical how easily he complies with your wishes, just how he always has during the private streams.

You really do have him wrapped around your little finger.

Wonwoo pushes his chair forward a bit, but not too much so he wouldn’t crowd you. He clears his throat before telling his TA she can come in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Wonwoo’s smile is too pretty and too casual for your liking. “Not at all.”

So you do what any other rational person would do.

You start to undo his pants.

Wonwoo is always good at keeping a poker face, but you’ve observed him long enough to know when he’s starting to get flustered. The edges of his mouth tighten and his eyes get this look in them. It makes you lick your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Somehow, you manage to get his cock out of his pants without making too much noise. You find it kind of cute how Wonwoo is acting like he’s unaffected. However, his hard, twitching cock says otherwise. It’s so big and thick, and looks ten times prettier in person.

You lick your lips before you wrap them around the big mushroom top, gently swirling your tongue around to nurture the head. You’re looking up at him, holding back a smirk. He keeps talking with his TA about lesson plans and other shit you don’t really care about. How can you when you finally have his cock in your hands and mouth like you’ve always wanted?

Wonwoo covers a moan with a cough when you take the rest of him into your mouth. Well as much as you can, anyway. They say the camera adds ten pounds, but it didn’t do his pretty cock any justice. You can barely fit half of him in your mouth.

That doesn’t stop you from sucking his dick like a lollipop. It’s heavy against your tongue, weighing it down with the sweet, opaque drops of precum. Wonwoo is surprisingly good at not making any noise, but you can tell he’s close when he starts to carefully thrust up into your mouth, forcing you to take him a little deeper.

You speed up your movements as much as you can without making any actual noise, hollowing your cheeks as you do.

“Are you okay?” That stupid TA of his asks. “You look a little flushed.”

“Just fine.” He grits out with a tense smile. “We should probably wrap up now.”

You hear the rustling of papers just as Wonwoo starts twitching in your mouth. The soft whine you let out feels like a hot rubber band around his cock.

“Lock the door on your way out.” Now your professor sounds like he’s in pain, and you know you have him right where you want him.

“Okay?” His TA sounds confused. “But are you sure you’re—?”

“Just go.” He growls, and in the next second you hear the door slam shut.

You almost laugh, but when you see Wonwoo’s thighs clenching you prepare yourself to swallow every last fit of cum he has for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch wildly before ropes of hot, salty cum shoot down your throat. He always comes a lot, but you overestimate your ability to swallow it all. Some of this spills out of the edges of your mouth as Wonwoo lets out a loud moan.

When you pull away, he grips your arm and helps you up so you’re face to face with him. He looks so good, sweaty and flushed from his orgasm. Wonwoo’s thumb wipes the excess cum from your chin before shoving his sticky finger in your mouth. You happily lick his tongue clean, making sure to moan wantonly while you do so.

Wonwoo picks you up easily and settles you on the edge of his desk. His eyes are dark and hungry as he put his hands on either side of your thighs. “Such a fucking tease, kitten. What would you have done if she caught us?”

You boldly smirk at him, feeling your arousal drip out of you and spill on to his desk. “No one would believe her anyway. Everyone knows sweet, respectful Professor Jeon would never fuck a student.”

That’s all it takes for him to grip the front of your flimsy t-shirt and literally rip it off of you. The cold air hits your bare tits, and you can’t stop the surprised gasp that you let out.

“No bra and no panties?” Wonwoo growls, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Were you planning on seeing that boy tonight?”

You bite your lip and smirk. Maybe you would let Soonyoung off the hook sooner than planned. “So what if I was? You have your TA to keep you company after hours, no?”

Wonwoo growls a bit before he lifts your skirt enough to expose your dripping cunt. He licks his lips when he sees that your sweet nectar is staining his desk. He gently moves to rub your folds before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. You whine loudly, hips thrusting upward. He repeats his actions until you’re literally trembling against him.

“Such a bad girl.” Wonwoo says as he start to rub your cunt to ease the stings of his slaps. “But let me make something clear to you, kitten. I make the rules here.”

Before you can think to protest, Wonwoo shoves his fingers inside you, knuckle deep. You can only moan and grind into his hand as he curls them expertly against your sweet spot. His actions almost have you screaming, cunt clamping down on his relentless digits. He pulls out his fingers from your needy hole with a wet pop just before you can allow yourself to fall into true bliss.

Wonwoo smirks when you let out a bratty whine. He loved every second of it. His bratty princess. “Your pussy is so greedy, baby. Sucking my fingers in and not wanting to let go.”

You might feel embarrassed, but Wonwoo drops to his knees and smashes his face into your hot cunt. He smirks against you when you let out the sexiest moan he’s ever heard. Immediately, he shoves his tongue inside you and swirls it around slowly, licking up every drop of your juices.

Wonwoo can’t help but moan at how good you taste. Fuck. He knew you would taste like heaven, and it feels wrong that he’s deprived himself of you for so long. This all feels like a dream to him.

All you can do is whimper and mewl as you grind your cunt into his face. You let out a broken whimper as you feel your climax approaching. “Professor!”

Wonwoo pulls away from your cunt, smirking when you whine. “Uh, uh, kitten. It’s Wonwoo. Say my name.”

He groans when he sees your fluttering hole clench around nothing, and again he dives in like a madman. This time he shoves his fingers inside of you, needing you to come on his tongue. All it takes is a few licks and pump of his fingers for you to close your legs around his head and orgasm with a shout of his name.

“Wonwoo!”

Fuck. He’ll never get over hearing you moan his name. At this point he doesn’t care if the dean himself hears you. He won’t stop until he stuffs you full of his cum.

You can only watch as he tugs off his clothes, appreciating how good his body looks in person. Wonwoo stalks towards you and rubs your cunt a little, mean smirk on his face. You pout at him with a low whine and wrap your thighs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be mean like you usually are.”

His other hand moves around your body to roughly knead at the swell of your ass, pushing you against his fingers. You mewl softly, fluttering your eyelashes bat him as you look at him with puppy dog eyes that you know he won’t deny.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He growls suddenly shoving his slick coated fingers past your lips to shut you up.

Your tongue feels heavy as you twirl the tip around the pads of his fingers, hands scratching at his chest. A low groan rumbles in his broad chest as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Only good girls get fucked, kitten. Remember that.”

Before you can say something bratty as is your custom, the words on the tip of your tongue when you feel the tip of his cock grinding against your wet entrance. It makes your mind go blank with need.

Wonwoo’s fingers slips out of your mouth and settle on your hips to keep you still. “Your little cunt is so wet, all for this fucking cock, huh?”

You nod fervently, mewling loudly as he pushed in slowly. The stretch burns, but also feels so fucking good. You feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock, but Wonwoo isn’t satisfied with only your mewls and whimpers. Even as he’s fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, he’s thrusting painfully slow, dragging his hard cock along your walls torturously.

“Don’t stay quiet, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

Your whine makes him throb inside you. “I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Just fuck me already.”

“What a whiny little brat.” Wonwoo smirks as his hands move up your body to pinch your nipples. “So fucking cute.” His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the feeling of your pussy struggling to fit his whole length.

“Fuck! Wonwoo!” You moan when he starts to thrust into you.

You can only whimper and gasp as his big cock rams into you at an unrelenting pace. It’s almost too much, but you quickly learn that your nerdy English professor is insatiable. His palms trail down to your thighs until he has your trembling legs pushed up against your chest. This new position makes him fuck you deeper, and by now you’re babbling under him, head thrown back and incomprehensible moans on your lips.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as he continues to hit the spongy spot inside you.

Your thighs are quivering from how hard he’s fucking you, but you love it. All you can focus on his how the cook in your stomach is on the verge of snapping.

Wonwoo groans at the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock. He pulls back a bit, watching in awe as the base of his cock gets coated in a thin white ring of cream. A broken moan tears from his throat as his cock starts to twitch and throb inside you. “Gonna come for me, baby?”

All you can do is nod stupidly as he lets out another groan from how tightly your pussy is. “Good girl.”

It only takes one more snap of Wonwoo’s hips for you to come undone and coat his cock with your cream. He moans along with you, hips still thrusting to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your glassy eyes stare up at him in your afterglow and you wonder if it’s the mind numbing orgasm singing through your veins or if Wonwoo has always looked so ethereal. 

“Fuck, kitten. All this for me? How cute.”

You can only whine pathetically when you realize Wonwoo is talking about the wet squelch that’s filling his office when his cock slams in your pussy. A string of broken whimpers tumble past your lips at how he’s pounding into your overstimulated cunt.

“So fucking tight, baby.” He breathes out heavily.

From his sloppy thrusts, you can tell me close. It makes you grin and purposely clench down on him. “Fill me up, professor.”

He thinks you’re kidding until you push away the hands that are still holding on to your legs. You stealthily wrap them around his waist so he won’t pull out. Wonwoo moans, unable to hold back his orgasm. You both moan as he dumps his cum into you, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

He slowly lets you go, and just as you think you’re done. Wonwoo flips you over so you’re on your stomach and bent over his desk. He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cute little pussy.

You lay pliant and silent as Wonwoo folds your skirt up, his big hands kneading the globes of your ass in a gentle circle. Being the inpatient brat that you are, you wiggle your hips back until you bump against his damp cock. Wonwoo lets you rut your ass against his crotch for friction until he stills your hips with a click of his tongue. “So impatient, baby.”

“Only for you, babe.”

Wonwoo groans and spreads one ass cheek to the side and exposing your messy cunt to the air. You’re so pretty and wet for him, hole fluttering and glossy with your mixed release.

“Want me to fill your tight little cunt again?” Wonwoo asks patronizingly as he nudges the head of his cock between your wet folds.

You smirk against the cool wood of his desk. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to.”

Wonwoo can’t be angry when you arch your ass further against him in invitation. Not when he knows your words are true. Also, he finds it increasingly difficult to refuse you. His fingers curl around your waist and your body down his desk until he impales your little pussy on his cock. The stretch is painstakingly slow, forcing you to feel every inch, ridge,and vein dragging along your walls.

“Oh!” You moan wantonly. “Fuck me.”

“Look how well you take me. If only you would’ve kept your attention on me, I would’ve been nicer.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, but you don’t fucking care. His big cock feels too good that it’s all you can think about.

Wonwoo groans in approval, watching the way your pussy expands as he draws back. He’s obsessed with the way your cunt sucks him in nice and tight as he plunges back into you. Being the insatiable little brat that you are. You start you bounce yourself back on his cock.

“Kitten.” He says through a strained moan. “What did I tell you—?”

His reprimand is cut off with a sharp grunt, his hips stuttering while you tremble and frantically fuck your cunt on his cock at a quick pace, the pleasure coiling in your lower belly faster than before. He smirks and decides to match your pace until you can’t take it anymore.

“So wet and perfect for me.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Wonwoo start to slam into your spot at a brutal pace. The loud squelching from your pussy and your moans is all you can hear. It’s almost a miracle that no one has come to his office from all the noise you’re making.

“But I think.” Wonwoo grunts as the tip of his cock ventured deep into your cunt, intoxicating him with your tightness. “My bratty princess still needs to be taught a lesson.”

His deeps voice makes you shudder, and when you sink your nails into the hard woods, you feel large palms cover your smaller hands. Wonwoo links your fingers together before he starts pounding into you once again. He groans at the feeling of your hot cunt clenching down on him. So perfect and tight.

He fucks into you roughly until you’re wrapped around him so tightly that he can barely move. Wonwoo can tell that he’s fucked you stupid because all you can do is whine and moan about how big he is. It’s nonsensical babbling that doesn’t really make sense, but he loves every bit of it. All it takes is for you to cream on his cock for his own orgasm to hit. Your spasming walls make him thrust deeply into you, fucking his cum back into your walls relentlessly.

Once he can’t handle the overstimulation he gently pulls out of your sensitive cunt. You mewl softly, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is on the verge of exploding. He gently rubs his thumbs against the back of your hands before pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.

“Come on, baby.” He says gently as pulls you up from his desk. “Let’s get you home.”

You’re not sure when you fall into an almost domestic routine with Wonwoo, but you’re too busy enjoying the bliss of fucking him to care. A giddy feeling blooms in your chest when you’re leaving your part-time job for the night and see your professor's sleek black car waiting for you. No matter how many times he’s waited for you, the warm feeling never dulls.

Within minutes of getting into his car, your back is brushing up against the steering wheel as you sit on Wonwoo’s lap. By now you’ve taken off your jeans and are only wearing an oversized sweatshirt that originally belonged to him. Of course, you’re also wearing the pair of lacy panties that he bought for you a while back.

“Fuck, kitten.” Wonwoo licks his lips as he lifts the material covering your clothed cunt. His cock twitches when he sees that the fabric is wet. “Did you know I was coming?”

The grin you give him makes him want to ruin you. “I was hoping you would.”

You’re so needy, but he loves it. And now he’s going to ruin you all over again.

Wonwoo loves the pretty little sounds you let out as you start to grind into his clothed cock. “You’re acting so needy. Does that mean you’re gonna behave tonight?”

You give him an impish grin and shake your head. It would be a cold day in hell if you were ever to be pliant for him. Wonwoo growls lowly, and before you know it, he’s pulling out his cock and dragging you up and down the length of it. “You feel that? It’s all for you, baby.”

Being the impatient brat that you are, you don’t wait for him to give you permission to sink down on to his cock and start bouncing on it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear right in front of you. His fat cock is stretching you out so much, and no matter how many times you’ve fucked already, you’re still not used to it.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight.”

You let out a loud whine when Wonwoo starts to thrust up into you. All you can do is moan his name as your pussy spasms and clenched down on him as he grips your ass to help you fuck his cock.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust.

The sound of skin slapping fills the car and all you can think about is how good you feel. It doesn’t matter that your arousal is leaking down to his balls and staining his pants. Your hot cunt feels too good. Wonwoo moves his hand down to toy with your clit, thumb pressing into it a bit as he starts rhythmically rubbing it with his thrusts.

Wanton moans spill from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally come, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load into you.

As usual, Wonwoo keeps fucking into your wet walls, eager to fuck his cum back inside you. Your mixed release seeps down to the driver seat, but that’s the least of Wonwoo’s worries. He pounds into you harder, your cunt practically swollen now by how hard he’s fucking into you.

Finally, he slows his movement before completely stopping. He makes no move to detach from you.

“Will you spend the night with me?”

He asks so shyly and cutely that you can’t deny him. It’s not like you were going to anyway.

“When am I gonna get fucked on cam?” You read the chat with a giggle.

“I don’t know.” You said as you smirk at the man behind the camera. “Whenever my boyfriend stops being so camera shy.”

Wonwoo bites his lip, smirking as you took off your bra. If it’s something you wanted, if course he would do it.

Because you’re his favorite.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

Happy birthday, Namjoon 💌

omg i LOVED open the way u wrote tae was so 😩✊💦💯✨ i’m addicted to ur writing style!!! if ur still doing requests could u pls do taehyung x reader where he’s your aunt’s boyfriend and he’s really into you and lowkey flirts with you but you don’t realize how much until you two are left alone 🫣 ends with smut and can be yandere hehe the rest is up to you bc i trust you dear author!!

𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭:

pairing: yandere! taehyung x f! reader

genre: smut || non-idol au || fluffy-ish but in a kinda dark way

summary: it’s wrong, but it feels so good.

word count: 4.5k

tags/ warnings: slight age-gap, stalking, infidelity, coercion, naive! reader, but she means well, anxiety, briefly mentioned panic attack, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction don’t be stupid), dom! tae, sub! reader, big dick! tae, ddlg themes, cry baby reader, thigh riding, fingering, dick riding, creampie, squirting, slight cum play, cockwarming

notes: yes! thank you for having so much faith in me, and i hope this lives up to your expectations :’)

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

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Taehyung remembers the exact day he fell in love with you. How he’d been mindlessly flicking through dating apps for a quick fuck; only to stumble across, well not you, but your aunt.

She was pretty. Conventionally attractive at most, a little plain, but seemed like she’d gotten around with enough men to please him for the night. The skimpy little lingerie pictures enough for him to know that she was somewhat desperate in her search for a partner and maybe all she had to offer was her decent body— by his standards.

And as he’d been scrolling through her other photos, mingled among half naked mirror selfies, there you were. The prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

He’d found all your aunt’s social media before making the leap to message her, wanting to know just how close the two of you were and if this little plan of his would be worth it in the long run.

There were photos upon photos of you posted on every profile she had. Like a little trophy, your achievements now her own to flaunt to the world through the web.

You and your aunt were close. That much he had gathered from her social media. Peeved that he was unable to find your own, left to see your aunt’s grating face beside yours in every photo. Nothing a little editing couldn’t fix. He had already picked out a cute photo album for all the pictures he planned to take with you.

He later found out that his soon-to-be girlfriend was more your sister than auntie. With 15 years between your mother and herself, she’d always felt too young to be anything other than a sibling your mother was never willing to have, leaving you as an only child.

And only child who still lived home with their mother because the big wide world is too scary for some people.

That just gave Taehyung another reason to take care of you. While your mother bitched at you about finding a job, with him you wouldn’t have to lift a finger. The ground you stepped on too precious, hands too delicate, body a temple that he planned to worship.

Your aunt was a little older than he would usually go for, but anything to have you in his clutches, the sacrifice was worth every second.

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It’s easy to woo a woman who’s desperate. A few sweet nothings and a big dick can get you a long way with a pitiful lady whose self-esteem lays in the depths of hell. Luckily, he lurked that low, and now he had a prize he was trying to win, kneeling before the devil himself to have you as his own.

It wasn’t long before your aunt had invited him to dinner with you and your mother. Caring more about your validation than your mothers, but he wasn’t all that bothered about the woman anyways. A spitting image of you if you were to age 20 odd years. But it wasn’t her he was after.

And Taehyung could feel his cock throb under his slacks at the sight of you, fidgeting under his gaze as he takes a little longer than proper watching you from across the table; though neither your mother nor his girlfriend seemed to notice, too hung up in their own little catch-up to care.

He could see your fingers itching to pick up the crayons left by the last little family that had sat at the table, your eyes trained on the maze from the kids menu. Probably mapping out the way in your mind, squirming when he assumes you’d escaped the maze.

And Taehyung wants to coo when your mother tells one of the waitresses to clean up the mess; pitiful pout on your lips that you hide behind your teeth when she turns to you, asking what you wanted to order.

Your eyes flit to the menu, then to your mother, then over to Taehyung before blurting you’ll just have salad. Unbothered, your mother shrugs, calling over the waitress again when she asks the rest of the table if they’re ready to order.

Taehyung thinks the little dinosaur shaped nuggets would have suited you better. Maybe a pretty pink milkshake to match your pretty pink cheeks.

He wouldn’t mind feeding you spoonfuls of whipped cream between bites of french fries, and then buying you a cute strawberry cake for afters. You look like you might have liked the brownies and vanilla ice cream better though.

Maybe he could spoil you a little, buy you both and when you shake your head, claiming to be too full; he’d pull you over his lap, teasing the edge of your panties as he makes you lick the chocolate sauce off his fingers.

And oh how sweet you would taste after that. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stop kissing you until your lips are swollen with his love, sticky with his spit and left over ice cream that he would clean with his tongue.

His mood sours when his girlfriend runs a hand along the length of his thigh, lovestruck smile plastered on her face as your mother asks questions on how the two of them met.

His little fantasy of your perfect little date being shattered by the shrill voice of your aunt as he fawns over your new sweater that your mother informs them that you’d ordered online.

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He eased you into it. His own little game of how long he can keep up his flirty little touches before someone noticed.

Carefully brushing over your back as he walked past you. His arm slung around your shoulder when you’d be stood by yourself in the garden as the rest of your family gathers around the grill. More interested in the smell of food than one another.

But Taehyung found you didn’t like large groups of people, family or not, loud noises picking at your brain, like an itch that won’t go away until tears gathered on your waterline and Taehyung would have to sit in the corner of your room with you until you calmed down. Your head in his lap as he runs his fingers through your hair.

Because he seemed to be the only one who cared that you’d had a panic attack, worried to leave you alone, to cry until your head hurt. To then feel sorry for yourself as you curl up between the arms of your plushies that line the bed. Now why would you do that, when he could hold you tighter than your little bear ever could?

“Thanks for helping her. Poor thing, her anxiety has been worse as of late. Must be school” his girlfriend whispers from the door, heart swelling with happiness at the image of you two together.

“Having such large family gatherings isn’t helping” he mutters, tongue poking the inside of his his cheek as your aunt waves him off.

“We’ll get her to stay up in her room next week then”

Other times, his fingers lingering over your own a little longer than they should as he gives you gifts.

You assume Taehyung must come from money. If the shiny looking pearls that hung around your aunt’s neck were anything to go by. Her dead-end, 9-5 job could barely cover rent, you doubted she was splurging on overpriced rocks and fancy dinners that she flaunts when she comes over. Making you scroll through endless pictures of 5 course meals that you have no interest in.

He never spoke of himself much. You had never heard of his parents, nor did he ever seem busy with friends when it came to your weekly dinners. Your aunt didn’t seem to care either way; having won the jackpot with a rich, hot boyfriend that would fuck her like a common whore at night and treat her like royalty during the day.

Taehyung was very generous, you knew that much. He often came a couple of times a week to visit you with your auntie. And each week he would have a new gift for you.

“You spoil her too much” your mother had tutted one afternoon. You hadn’t said anything, too preoccupied with the paint set Taehyung had wrapped in pretty wrapping paper. Pink with scattered little red hearts.

You’d started to keep the wrapping paper Taehyung gave your gifts in. Gluing them in an empty notebook with the dates written in your best hand writing beside them. Because it felt like a waste to throw such pretty paper away. And it always left you wondering why he had so much wrapping paper to begin with. Maybe he just likes giving, and then you read online that it was a love language, did that mean Taehyung loved you?

Gentle touches had turned to your knees grazing as you sat beside one another on the couch. To you sat between Taehyung’s legs from the floor, while he sat on the chair as you both played a game on the TV.

Some evenings while his girlfriend helped your mother in the kitchen he would lay your thighs across his own, fingers skimming the bare skin until goosebumps prickled in his wake. And he’d hide a smile behind his hands as you squirmed over his lap.

He starts feeding you at dinner, disguised as him asking for your opinion on a new recipe he was trying out. To suggesting what you order when you go out for dinner together with your aunt who was in awe of how well the two of you got along.

Compliments had started off simple too.

‘You look pretty today’ turning to ‘My y/n is so beautiful’ while his arms wrap around your waist. Praise of your beauty never ending, it seemed Taehyung had a compliment stored away on his tongue for all hours of the day. Even when you’d just woken up, hair tangled and eyes a little puffy from eating ramen so late the night before. He had given you a gentle ‘good morning’ as he brought you into his chest for a hug.

His heart had swelled once you’d gotten more comfortable with him. Albeit still awfully shy, you had now started to approach him first. The years of dating your aunt finally paying off as you gift him your own paintings. Thank you cards decorated with the little stickers he’d bought for you and way too much washy tape.

His favorite of your little gifts so far had been the small cakes you’d baked after hearing him tell your beloved aunt that chocolate was his favorite. It wasn’t. It was yours, but he liked the smile on your face when he’d said that, and the fact you both had something in common, even it were as insignificant as your aunt had pointed out.

He’d tugged your chair closer to his own that evening. Aware of your eyes watching his every little move as he shoveled your cake into his mouth. Low hum of appreciation rumbling in his chest as he gives you a cheeky smile.

He adores the way your cheeks had flushed red when he’d carded his fingers through your hair, “So smart. It’s delicious, darling”

And you hadn’t been able to contain your smile.

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“Baby, can you take Y/n to the train station? I think she’s meeting a friend out of town but her mum’s gone for the weekend and I have work in the morning”

And of course he’d agreed.

And that’s how he found you, wrapped up warm in your winter coat in the passenger side of his car; nose red from the bitter cold morning air. Perfect for kissing, but he doesn’t want to scare you off when he’s so close to where he needs you.

“Meeting a friend?” he asks as you shut the car door. Leaning over to help strap you in, you don’t seem to mind, unfazed as his arm reaches over your body, and Taehyung thinks you really must be perfect; needing his help, needing someone to just take care of you in the way you deserve. In the way he knows you need.

“Yeah” you nod, voice barely above a whisper, but he hears you, attuned to how soft you spoke.

“A close one?”

You shrug. “We used to be, but she moved out of town for school and thought we’d catch up while she’s on winter break”

She.

Taehyung’s lips curl up, “Must be nice to catch up”

You hum at that. Feet tapping against the floor.

“You don’t look very excited, baby” his eyes flit to look at your face, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

He’s moments away from touching your lips, ready to scold you that you shouldn’t chew on the skin until it bled, a bad habit he’d come to see you have; but the car behind beeps and he’s stepping on the gas, eyes-brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Just a little scared of taking the train” you admit, hands tucked under your thighs.

“Nothing to be scared of, i’ll be here when you get back” he smiles over at you, and you nod slowly at that.

“Is that really okay?” you ask him.

And Taehyung wants to coo, “Of course, baby. Just call me when you’re on the way home, and i’ll be here right as the train gets in”

“Promise?” you look up at him through your lashes and Taehyung feels his cock throb at your desperation.

“Pinky promise” he gives you his little fingers after he parks the car.

You connect your finger with his own, gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as he stamps your thumbs together.

“You got everything?” he asks, leaning over into the back seat to grab your bag.

“I think so” you nod.

“Money?”

You hum.

“What about my goodbye kiss?” he asks, and you simply blink up at him.

“Kiss?” you gape.

“Mhm” he nods, tapping his cheek.

“I thought kisses were only for family” you whisper and Taehyung’s head tips back against the seat.

“I am family, aren’t I?” he turns to look at you, and you think he looks sad, a pang of guilt striking through your heart at his disheartened expression.

Your head tilts a little, “I guess so”

You lean over the center console, hand landing on Taehyung’s thigh as you lean up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. Taehyung turns his head a little, your lips pressing against the corner of his own, though you don’t seem to notice as you keep your eyes closed.

“Good girl, now be quick or you’ll miss the train” he runs his thumb over your cheek.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

As promised Taehyung was there when you’d gotten off the train. His arm wrapping tightly around your shoulder as he pulled you into his chest. The gentle beating of his heart through his thick sweater lulling your anxieties, fingers holding onto his arms like you would crumble if he were to let go of you.

“I got you this” you’d told him once you’d gotten home, inviting Taehyung in to warm up with a hot coffee before he left, “I got one too, so we could be matching” you rock back and forth on your feet.

You drop the little keychain into his palm, character from a game he’d seen you play many times carved out of wood and delicately painted.

“It’s beautiful, baby”

Taehyung thinks he can see the cogs of your mind start to overheat at the pet name. No more anxiety there to overshadow the term of endearment. Your cheeks flushing pink as you flop down onto the couch beside him.

“Come here and tell me about you day then” he pats his thigh.

You look up at him, eye brows furrowing in confusion.

“Need me to help you, hmm?” his hands hold under your arms, tugging you up your your legs straddle one of his thighs. You squeak at the sudden motion, hands grabbing onto his shoulders for support.

He feels your thighs clench as he stabilizes you, cunt throbbing as he holds onto your hips.

“Taehyung” you whisper, fingers clasped onto his sweater.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, gentle smile on his face. Expression so innocent you feel bad for thinking he had an ulterior motive.

“We’re not meant to be doing this” you squirm, pouting when his hands hold onto your hips tighter.

“Doing what?”

Your mouth stays shut, humiliation bubbling through your body as Taehyung watches your face. You shake your head.

“Don’t be shy, baby” he smiles, hand coming to cradle your face in his palm.

You lean into his touch. Hips stuttering forwards as he urges you on.

A chocked whimper drips off your tongue like honey as your panties brush against your clit.

“Like that baby?” he asks, shushing you when you open your mouth to protest.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you” he hums, rocking your hips for you. Your head falls onto his shoulder as jolts of pleasure wrack down your body, slick staining your panties.

A broken moan slips off your lips as Taehyung rocks you harder, slowly brining you to the peak of pleasure, moments away from tumbling into what will be your first orgasm of the night. You whimper against his neck, warm breath fanning his skin as you now rock your hips, Taehyung clenching the muscles of his thigh to help you get off.

“Go on little one, cum for me” Taehyung urges, hands slipping down to grab your ass as your hips stutter. Your thighs shake, teeth sinking into the skin of his neck as you fall over the edge. Little stars scattered behind your eye lids.

“Well done, baby” he soothes, pulling you into his chest.

Your breath comes out uneven, tears cascading down your cheeks in little pearls.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Taehyung pulls your face away from his neck, thumb coming to brush away your tears.

“I did something bad” you snivel, trying to pull yourself off Taehyung’s lap.

He hold you down, tutting. “You haven’t done anything wrong” he shakes his head, easy laugh reverberating through his chest and you just shake your head.

“You’re— you’re dating my aunt, we shouldn’t— I shouldn’t— I just- ” you squirm out of his lap.

Taehyung grabs onto your back, cradling your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder, rocking the both of you back and forth as you let the tears fall.

“You’re okay” he hushes, gentle hands rubbing down your back as you hiccup, “It’ll be our little secret, yeah? Just wanna make you feel good, you’ve been such a good girl recently”

Your shoulders shake as more tears dribble down your cheeks, “been good?” you ask, voice a little broken from the tears.

“Very good. The best even, don’t you think you deserve a treat?”

“Taehyungie always gives me a treat” you use the sleeve of your sweater to wipe your cheeks, hips rocking forward a little.

Taehyung’s hands smooth down your back, “I haven’t given you a treat for being so brave. Going on the train all by yourself, i’m proud of you, darling” he hums, bouncing the leg you were sat on.

Taehyung can feel your cunt clenching around nothing through his jeans, your hips rutting against his leg like a little puppy. He tangles a hand in your hair, pulling your face out of his neck and he feels his head tip back at the look of your tear streaked cheeks, a little blotchy, your eyes begging Taehyung to defile you.

“Has anyone ever touched you here, baby?” his hands slip between the waist band of your sweats, finger toying with the cute little bow on your underwear.

You nod, thigh twitching as Taehyung eases his hand into your panties. Fingers parting your slit, gathering your wetness before he slicks up your clit.

You fall into him, arms slung over his shoulders as he draws lazy circles on your sensitive pearl.

“Yeah? Did they make you cum?”

“No” you whisper, and Taehyung laughs. A daunting laugh that sends a shiver down your spine.

“That was selfish of them, wasn’t it, darling?” he frowns, and if you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure that consumed your body, you may have noticed how condescending his tone was.

“Let’s take these off, shall we” he pats your behind, smiling as you lift your ass high enough for him to slip both your sweats and panties over your thighs.

His fingers return to your clit, letting you buck your hips up to meet his fingers. You whine when he dips them lower, stimulation suddenly gone, the orgasm that was slowly building dissipating as he nudges the entrance to your cunt.

You roll your hips forward, wad of slick dripping from your hole onto his jeans as you wait for him to push a finger inside of you.

“Taehyungie” you snivel, another wave of pitiful tears glazing your cheeks in saline pearls.

“What, doll? What do you want Taehyungie to do?” he urges, blood flowing south at the way your mouth falls open in a pitiful whine. “I cant do anything if you don’t ask”

You take a hold of his hand, pulling it towards your sodden core, “here, please”

“Yeah?” he asks, sinking a finger into you.

You let out a breathy sigh as he adds a second, using your thighs to bounce on his fingers, you pull your sweater over your breasts, matching little bra on display for Taehyung to see.

“So cute, baby. And all mine” he croons, crooking his fingers, as he leans forward to press a kiss to the swell of your breast, your cheeks heating from the crude squelch your pussy was making.

Taehyung uses his free hand to tug your bra down, watching your cute tits as your bounce over his lap, your knee nudging against his cock.

“Want you to come over my cock, darling” he groans, fingers slipping from wet core.

You unzip his jeans, fingers a little shaky as you help his pull both his pants and boxers off before they’re discarded on the floor somewhere.

It felt wrong. Fucking in the living room where anyone could open the front door and walk in. You might have been a little more worried if you mum wasn’t gone for a couple of days, and you knew your aunt was at work.

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought of your aunt. What would she think if she were to find out.

But Taehyung just wanted to make you feel good. Surely there was nothing wrong with that.

“Up you go” Taehyung helps you straddle both his thighs, hard cock slapping against your leg, coating it in a sheen of his sticky precum.

He holds the shaft, one hand on your thigh to help lower you onto his cock. You whimper as the thick head pops through your entrance, your mouth falling open as a lick of pain shoots up your spine.

You stay with the tip sat inside you, your hips rocking a little to try and adjust to the size.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me” he shushes when you moan, trying to push in another inch.

Taehyung spits onto two of his fingers, bringing them down to toy with your clit. Your thighs quiver, sinking another inch of his thick cock inside of you. “Almost there, baby”

You pull up until the tip, dropping all the way so your ass meets his thighs. You wrap your arms around his neck, a fresh wave of tears dribbling down your cheeks.

“No need to cry” Taehyung eases his hands down your sides, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he feels your cunt convulse around his length.

“Feels good” you hiccup, “like feeling full”

Taehyung groans at that, hands gripping the meat of your waist, pulling you up his length before he slowly sinks you back down. You moan, breathy and cute and Taehyung wishes he could shove you against the couch and fuck you within an inch of your life but he supposes your first time together could be a little slower.

“Just like that” he praises as you start to bounce on his cock, wetness pooling around the base, coating your own thighs in your own heady arousal.

It was lewd, the noises your pussy were making as you dropped back down onto Taehyung’s dick. He uses the floor as leverage, fucking up into you, making sure his cock was as far into you as he could go.

You cry out, his name the only words you seemed to know as your orgasm slowly starts to build.

Your teeth nip at his neck, saliva painting his skin. “Wanna cum” you whine.

Your breathing stutters when his fingers find your clit, relentless as he flicks the swollen bud. Your thighs start to shake, leaving Taehyung to thrust up into you with all he had.

“Wait—“ you squeak, vulgar moan cutting you off, “feels like i’m gonna pee” you cry, trying to push yourself off Taehyung’s cock. He holds you down, continuing to fuck up into you.

“Just let it go, doll” he groans, head tipped back against the back of the couch.

“No” you cry, “I really have to—“ you’re cut off as you feel what you can only describe as an explosion of wetness leak from your cunt.

Taehyung’s cock slips out of you at the force of it, your thighs shaking as Taehyung holds you to his chest, fingers slowing down their figures of eight on your clit as he helps you ride out your high.

“Well done, baby. You squirted” he soothes, lazy smile on his face as he lines his cock back up with your cunt, “it’s almost over, i’m close” he tells you.

You simply lay slumped against his chest. Hips jutting forward in overstimulation as Taehyung slowly drags his cock through your walls.

“Too much” you try to pull away, only for Taehyung to bring his hand down, a harsh slap on your ass.

You hiccup at that, walls sporadically clenching around his length to bring him to his peak.

Taehyung’s hips stutter, thrusts sloppy as he nears his orgasm. You feel his cock twitch before he’s flooding your cunt with his thick cum, painting your walls white.

You cum again at the feeling as Taehyung continues to rock into you, his dick slipping out of your soiled hole before he’s pushing it back into you again, making sure his cum is as deep as it can go before he keeps you sat on his cock.

He slowly starts to soften inside of you, dick twitching in interest as your cunt continues to clench around his length.

And it’s not long before you’re dozing off, still impaled on his cock as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“My precious girl” he smiles.

cry me a river | the liar

— summary: hoseok lied about choosing you, namjoon lied about leaving you, but the biggest liar of them all is you

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 9.1k

— warnings: mentions of food poisoning, mentions of starving, fear of food, allusions to eating disorder, manipulation, y/n isn't in her right mind, talks of death, death attempt, ptsd

— PART 17 / previous post / masterpost

“Isn’t she pretty?” You say as you play with the white thin strings that hold the doll upright. “A pretty little doll, so perfect.”

She wears a white dress that falls to her ankles, dark black hair held in an updo, eyes that flutter open and close each time you move her head up and down, her wrists, back, head, and legs all held up by thin strings.

So petite and fragile.

“Look Dasom, watch this.” You stand from your seat, the strings in one hand as you hold it up into the air, and reach for the scissors. Dasom watches, lips sealed, her back standing straight with hands held behind. You take the scissors and you stare right at her, cutting the strings where they’re held together in your hands.

And down the doll falls in an instant.

Breaking.

Dasom doesn’t flinch.

“Pitiful, isn’t she?” You place the scissors onto the table and crouch down to pick the broken doll up. The wrists where the strings held caused her hand to detach from her body, a leg twisted, a knee to her foot also detached, bits of pieces broken like scars, no longer a part of her body anymore, and one eye remains wide open while the other falls half-lidded. 

“The doll once belonged to someone, until it was passed over and promised by a new owner to always hold on and never let go. The new owner treated her well for some time but unexpectedly, they decided to cut all the strings and as a result, here she lies, broken on the ground, and returned to the previous owner to…reattach the strings once more.” You look up at her as you stand back up again and place the doll on the table, right next to the scissors. “You understand that, don’t you? After all, when we first met, you were the same; a perfect little doll forcibly passed onto my father.”

Dasom remains quiet but you see the way she clenches her jaws and you look back down at the doll. You take the hand that broke away itself from the body after its fall and look at it for some time.

“We’re the only ones who can fix ourselves, Dasom. If we trust in anyone else, who’s to say they won’t break us more than we are now? That’s why you cannot trust anyone, not even I. Because one day, I may betray you. Just as one day, you may betray me. Do not look at me as your savior, do not get blinded for even a moment, because when it comes down to it, one day…I may even end up just like my father and hurt you all over again. And when that moment comes, if I ever betray your trust and become the person my father was…your trust in me will hurt you more than anything. So never trust me, Dasom. Never.”

She stands alone in the room when you leave, heels clicking away, head never turning back for a second glance.

Dasom stands there for the longest time, staring at the broken doll who lays on the table, the scissors right beside her, and just before any memories can fall into her thoughts, the door opens to reveal Mingyu.

“What did boss tell you?” He asks when he walks in, and pauses momentarily at the broken doll on the table, before he looks at Dasom again, a mark of concern on his features. “Did she say something out of line?”

She looks up, meeting his gaze as her shoulder tenses even more. “She reminded me not to trust her,” she says, her brows furrowed. “She warned me to not look at her as a savior, that there will always be a chance she may end up like her father, like my perpetrator, like our perpetrator…..like her perpetrator….and that where we are now is just a fleeting moment in time, that just because she saved me doesn’t mean she can’t also be the one to cut my strings and I’ll end up more broken than I am…was.”

Mingyu keeps his eyes on her when she reaches for the doll, caressing it while throwing the scissors roughly to the side. Away from view.

“She said that only I can fix whatever was broken when my family was still alive and when her father still lived.”

“So. Do you believe her?”

“No,” she says without hesitation, eyes looking up at him with desperation meant for him to understand. “Because she saved me. She fixed me. Us. She took all the pieces that make up the Reapers, sewed our hands and feet, opened our eyes, helped us stand and run and fight, and become the sort of people that we are now, strong enough to protect her, to return the kindness that she had in her heart to fix what had been left broken by the people that have hurt us but we’ll never be enough, will we? No matter what we do, we’ll never be able to save her.”

“...” Mingyu takes a step forward to gently caress the hair of the broken doll in Dasom’s hand. He smooths down the disheveled mess and plays with the broken eye, silent for a moment, before he utters the words that the Reapers know yet hate to hear the most.

“Because boss doesn’t want to be saved.”

.

.

.

There is one part of the manor you’ve never returned to ever since destroying and rebuilding what your father cherished ever since that night you came back with news of his death and decided to rid all of his followers. There is one part of the manor you left untouched, one part of the manor even your reapers do not go near; your annex.

Where resides your old room, Mister Butler’s old room, the torture rooms; Yuna’s room 157, and,

The White Room.

You don’t know why your feet have decided to drag you down here, why you’re walking this way. It’s been months after all, months. You remember your eyes catching a glimpse of the calendar in that room you were in with Dasom and realize that it’s almost been a year since you decided to pursue your revenge plan.

It’s almost been a year.

A year.

A year since your father’s death, a year since his life ended and you seeking for your supposed lost freedom, a year since you’ve met with your ex-boyfriends, ex-husband, and although the revenge isn’t even a step close to being completed, perhaps now is when Namjoon will decide upon going back to the two of you never seeing each other again.

It won’t be unexpected.

You’ve given him the bait, after all, told him you killed his precious older brother, so you’re sure there’s only so little time left before he calls you over to discuss business on the alliance. After taking some time for grievance and taking in what you told him, he’ll end things.

It’ll end soon and you won’t have to see them ever again.

It’ll end soon.

So perhaps the reason why you’re walking towards an empty room, Mister Butler’s room, is for this very fact; to apologize.

Because if you can’t give Namjoon the truth, if you have to hold your peace forever and make him think you’re the bad guy, make him believe that all those hopes and dreams he had were for naught and turn you into the villain that you are so that he can hate you and push you away, the least you can do is apologize to his older brother.

Because despite how cruel Namjoon was to you in the last weeks of your broken marriage, Mingyu is right in saying that he didn’t deserve what you’ve done.

Meeting toxicity with toxicity will only fire back in the end.

And even if you did have a good reason, it’s still a selfish reason.

But Namjoon was getting too close to your liking. He was beginning to doubt, beginning to question, and you didn’t like questions because questions meant getting close to the truth, questions meant doubting the facade you pull every day in front of everyone, questions meant reviewing the past and realizing something was wrong from the very beginning.

You can’t have him doubting your happy fairytale with your father, the story made of rainbows and sunshine, the house of cards you and your father created with your hard work and easy lies.

Letting him think you’re the bad guy is the only thing you can do.

The hallway down the annex is daunting. 

Terrifying.

You hate all the repressed memories that wish to reappear, the cold air it carries, the ghosts of the past trying to touch your shoulder and crawl back into your life. It’s dark, so dark, and with each step echoes the daunting wails of the ghosts who hold onto your ankles, unwilling to let go.

The air is heavy, hoping to drag you down with the memories. Your footsteps are heavy.

You hate the distant screams you hear in the back of your mind. You hate the silence.

The silence.

The silence.

You feel your hands trembling, the way your knees falter and the heels underneath you threaten to twist. It feels numb. Your legs feel numb. But you keep your eyes straight ahead, not daring to take a glance to the side otherwise all those memories you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden will resurface and you can’t have that.

You can’t have it.

So when you reach Mister Butler’s room, you just simply stand right before it, facing it head-on but refusing to reach a hand out, twist the knob, and take a step in.

You stand there, staring.

You know that the room is empty; no furniture, no presence, nothing, and so you keep it that way because you’d rather imagine there is something in there.

His old bed, his old closet, the precious things that he kept in that room……Him.

Him.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, head lowered, eyes falling to your feet, bowed into a ninety-degree level. “I’m sorry.”

There is no one here, no one except you, but you still feel the coziness in the lost fragments of your memories, the only warmth in this annex, distant but felt, just like in the past. A gentle child’s voice echoes in your ears, laughing. An older gentleman follows along, kind and sweet just as it always was.

Why did he have to come here? Why couldn’t he have stayed at his own home? Why did he care for a child who held no relation to him?

He should have stayed, shouldn’t have taken up the mission his father gave him, stayed with his little brother and he’d have still been alive.

In meeting you, he died. In loving you, his life was taken away.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say softly, knowing he hears every word you utter whether it’s barely audible or not. “I’ve hurt your little brother, told him a lie he believed in, crushed his hopes of seeing you reappear in his life ever again. I’m sorry for hurting him…If you were here, would you forgive me? Mister Butler, I…please…tell me what to do…”

There were times when you wished everything had been nothing but a long, long nightmare. Times when you’d wake up and run to Mister Butler’s room just around the corner, hoping, searching, just to see nothing.

No warmth. No smile. No kindness.

No Mister Butler.

He told you about his little brother once. Once. When he was tired and you were on the brink of falling asleep. You remember the gentle hand that patted your head ever so often, his voice soft when he spoke of his brother, eyes filled with happiness but with a bit of regret, a bit of guilt, a bit of longing.

He wanted to return, you realized years later and to this day you still wonder why he hadn’t. He should have, he had his chances, you were sure of it. If Namjoon and his father are both men known for their intelligence, then you’re sure Mister Butler should have been able to make his escape with the brain that he had.

But he never left and sometimes you wonder.

Was it because of you?

Did he stay because of you?

“I killed him,” the words repeat in the back of your head as you recall Namjoon’s confrontation. You may have not been the one to have pulled the trigger but perhaps you were the cause for it. Father told you he shot him because he was your weakness and perhaps father knew at the time he was an enemy in disguise, but at the end of the day, Mister Butler could have escaped.

“I killed him because of you,” Father said and for a while, you believed it. But there was another time you doubted his words, believed that it was just his way of manipulating you once more, that he was just saying it because he wanted to hurt a little kid like you.

And now that you think about it, perhaps you really did kill him. Because father’s right.

If it wasn’t for you, he would have been an ordinary man who didn’t catch father’s attention. If it wasn’t for you, father wouldn’t have cared about his existence. The very fact that Mister Butler looked out for you, cared for you, showed you kindness, and loved you, was the very reason father saw through him and decided to kill him.

If it wasn’t for you, he could have lived.

He could have lived.

You bite onto your lower lip, hard, and a memory resurfaces.

“Don’t bite too hard, young miss, you’ll bleed.”

He’s crouched down to your level, a hand reaching out to swipe along your lips when your teeth bite against it, while his other hand holds your head in gentle strokes, soothing whatever it is that has upset you this time.

“..Why?” You croak out, tears held back as you stare up at him with wide, bulged-out eyes, not daring to blink otherwise the tears will roll down your cheeks. Father says crying is weak. Father hates tears and you don’t want him to keep hating you.

You have to be loved. You have to earn his love. And only good girls can be loved. Only strong girls.

“If I do this, then it’ll be easier to not cry.”

Mister Butler knits his brows, that kind smile replaced by pained anguish. “If you do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care,” you say. “Father doesn’t like people who cry and if I keep being weak, I’ll never earn father’s love. I have to earn his love otherwise I’ll never be capable of love and—”

He cuts you off when he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around your petite body and pressing your face into his chest. “Don’t say that.” His voice sounds so odd when he says that. “Don’t, please..please don’t.” As if he were the one in pain, as if he were the one hurting in your stead, like an older brother who can’t bear the sight of his little sister in pain. Like it’s physically hurting him that you’re hurting. “You are worth so much more than what your father thinks of you as, my lady.”

“But I..I’m not.” You try to force yourself away from his embrace, hands balling into fists as you punch his chest and push him away. You can never be anywhere stronger than Mister Butler but he lets go, leaves because you want him to go. “If you keep showing me kindness, if you keep spoiling me, I will never get strong.”

“You don’t have to be strong.”

“But I do! Because then father will never love me!”

His face contours in pained frustration as he clenches his jaw and when you think about it now, perhaps what Mister Butler wanted to say was ‘Your father will never love you no matter how weak or strong you are’ and he’s right. Father is a monster who cannot love another human being.

But the little you then would never understand and would only hurt more if he were to utter such words.

So he swallows those words and holds your shoulders, keeping his anger in to not scare you off.

“Do you think of yourself as incapable of being loved because you are weak?” He asks and you nod.

“I can’t be loved. No one will love me if I’m weak.”

“I love you,” Mister Butler says. “I love you,” he stresses. “I promise I love you so please…please cry.” He cups your tiny face in his large hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “You don’t have to hold it in, young miss. When you’re around me, you don’t have to worry about trying to act proper and trying to act strong because I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. You can lash out, you can throw a tantrum, you can scream at me and hit me and spit in my face and—”

“I’d never!” You quickly shout, face contouring in horror as if the very thought of it could break you. “I’d never, Mister Butler, I’d never.”

“I know,” he nods, pressing his forehead to yours, “I know but my lady, you…you don’t have to worry about anything because no matter what happens, I’ll love you. Even if you cry, young miss, I’m right here. I won’t leave, I won’t throw you away so it’s okay. It’s okay to cry because I’m here. I’ll still love you no matter what. So stop holding those tears in, yeah? Cry. It’s alright to cry.”

“But..-”

“No one’s here. No one can hear you in this room. It’s soundproof and no one ever comes around in these halls so it’s okay. No one can hear you except me. And I love you so it’s okay. It’s okay, young miss. It’s okay to cry.”

Your lips quiver, trembling, and he nods, encouraging you. When the first tear falls with consent, the rest follows and you close your eyes shut, allowing them all to fall like rushing waterfalls.

Against all the things your father had instilled in you, Mister Butler doesn’t leave, he doesn’t discard you. He presses your face into his chest, holds you as tight as he can, and in the sounds of your cries, you don’t realize that he trembles slightly, afraid, frightened, and angry.

You don’t remember the last time you cried but you know that it was before Mingyu came. Before he arrived.

You were broken before he arrived so Yuna is the only Reaper who has ever seen you cry but you don’t know if she can recall the exact moment you stopped shedding tears.

It’s been a while even you can’t remember. Your memories are hazy from those times, when things were rougher, when it was only Yuna who watched you every day like a frightened child losing their precious mother who lied on their deathbed.

Yuna was the only one who saw you through it all, who was there when you still had a soft heart, innocent and precious, who smiled kindly. She was there to see that light stripped away from your eyes, right there when you had let the darkness win, when you succumbed to it.

When you fell silent. Completely silent.

When you broke.

She was right there. The only Reaper to know and to remember all that you were and all that was lost. She may never be able to see again but you remember those eyes, those eyes that were far too young to see such a thing happening right before her.

Those precious eyes that you yourself had to rid of.

Perhaps that’s why in some ways, the others are a little gentler towards her and allow her to take care of your needs when Mingyu isn’t there. Perhaps that’s why they let her near you when you don’t want anyone in.

And perhaps that’s why you let her in.

Because she knows and because she remembers the things even you can’t remember.

Yuna remembers. She remembers everything.

But she was too young to lead the Reapers, too young to know everything on what to do when it came to you and your needs. You needed so much, too much, and her young mind wouldn’t allow her to think things through properly to know just what to do.

When you’d panic, when you’d freeze up, when you’d grow angry, when you’d refuse to eat anything, when you’d get silent, completely silent.

You needed to be saved and Yuna didn’t know how to do it.

She was too young.

While she knew how to comfort and provide you warmth, you needed much more than that, you needed a foundation that could hold you steady and keep you grounded. You needed Mingyu.

And Mingyu came.

And together, the two of them became the first Reapers only loyal to you, building something much stronger than anyone could ever imagine.

You saved Dasom, Mingyu allowed her to pledge her allegiance, and together with Yuna, they taught her on what she needed to know.

Then Yeonjun came along and the same thing repeated over and over again until you created a network of Reapers under your own control, who were loyal to you, and who hated your father all the same.

None of them, except Yuna, has ever seen you cry.

Not even Mingyu.

But you’ll never show them now, or ever. Because you’ve lost it all. 

Your eyes can no longer cry.

Father has trained you well.

“My lady?” You hear footsteps, two pairs, and look up to find Yuna and Yeonjun walking toward you.

How they knew where to find you, you’ll never know, but you guess no matter what happens, your Reapers will always manage to find you wherever you are so you shouldn’t be surprised.

They take one look at the door beside you and they can already imply just why you were down here in the annex where you’ve forbidden yourself to come to. There’s something in Yuna’s hand which she hides away behind her back after taking a glance at the door, but you’ve already caught sight of it; it’s a letter.

A letter. Which means Namjoon has finally decided to formally end things.

You ignore it.

“Yuna. Yeonjun.” They come at your call. “I hate this place,” you say. “I hate it. I hate it.”

The air feels heavier, trying to constrict your breathing, something weighing on your chest, something trying to tear you down.

Your hand trembles when you reach out and Yuna’s right there to help you keep steady on your feet as Yeonjun offers his back to you. You climb on with some effort, eyes shut tightly closed as you press your face into his shoulder, hating everything about this annex.

It’s cold, too cold. You tighten your hold on Yeonjun, terrified and wanting the ground to swallow you whole so that you can disappear forever. You want to get out. Get out.

Everything screams at you in your head, the ghosts of the past reappearing, the distant sound of a little girl crying and begging and pleading for someone, anyone, while the two guards stand completely silent outside the doors of the White Room, not moving a single inch despite how hard she screams at them to come, to save her.

You hear it loud and clear in your head.

Loud and loud and loud in the silence of the annex.

Yeonjun runs out of here in an instant.

.

.

.

“Are you disappointed?” You ask, a small tilt in your head, raising a brow, with a quirk to the corner of your lips.

You look calm, carefree, and that playful smirk on your face is almost taunting him but Hoseok knows better than that. He knows not to take the bait in the same way Namjoon and the others have. This is just a facade. 

A facade.

“How can I be disappointed…when it wasn’t you who killed him?” He asks and there’s a small little falter in your lips.

The sharp corner falls and your eyelids rest to show your disappointment in him not catching the fishing hook you’ve dropped into the pond. You look upset, as if wondering why he still wishes to believe in you, why he still remembers the girl you once were when you lived with them, when you loved them dearly and when they loved you the same.

Hoseok stares right at you, unblinking, and perhaps that’s what makes you take a step back, hating his strong pursuit in not believing the words that leave your mouth, hating that he makes you falter, that he seems to hold power over you.

You look away, not wanting him to search through your eyes, and utter, “There’s no use believing in the girl you thought you knew.”

“Just like how I shouldn’t have believed in the girl who lied to me about being alright?” He asks, stopping you from turning your feet and walking away from him. You’re here for Namjoon, he knows, and sooner or later this alliance between the two gangs may fall apart but before any of that can happen, before he can never see you ever again unless by chance, Hoseok has to say something.

Anything.

Before it’s too late.

“You never told me you went on your knees,” he says, jaws clenched.

“Why would I have told you that?”

“Do you think it’s shameful being desperate for something? Wanting love and attention from your loved ones?”

“I don’t know, Hoseok,” you look up at him, shrugging, challenging him, “why don’t you ask Namjoon that?”

He bites his inner cheek, eyes drifting off to the side because he knows. If there were anyone he should have asked that question to, it would be Namjoon. 

“I could have done something,” he says, voice quieter, upset.

You laugh at those words, shaking your head. “Oh Hoseok, there was nothing you could have done at that point. Once a man like Namjoon makes up his mind, not even the strongest wind can make him bend a knee.” Ironic how you were the one begging instead. “He stopped loving me and the rest followed along because to them, to..you, I will always come second to Namjoon.”

“That’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” you cut him off sharply, eyes piercing. “The number one rule in the mafia is to never betray the gang otherwise you die, and obviously Namjoon would never kill any of you but you have nothing left without the gang right? Even if you had known the truth then, even if they had told you every last detail about what happened, you would have ended up just like the rest of the boys. You would have chosen Namjoon, and I would have been left all alone without anyone to rely on.” With a bitter smile curled along your lips, your eyes drift down to the floor, a flash of memory falling through your mind. “Don’t you think I kept everything a secret from you for a reason?”

You look back up at him, a pressed smile, “To hold onto that last piece of fantasy I blinded myself into living before letting it all fall apart. You would have ended up like them, Hoseok, like the rest of the boys. Even if they still loved me then, even if it was against their will what Namjoon did and even if they resented Namjoon for some time for it, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurts because you would have done the same, whether you think that’s true or not, you would have chosen Namjoon, it’s only inevitable.”

You begin to turn away from him, walking off. “You all loved him more than I, after all, and I would have been your second choice as well. Don’t lie to yourself, Jung Hoseok.”

Hoseok doesn’t have a say before you’re walking away, leaving him alone in the halls as he hears your heels clicking away.

.

.

.

It’s silent.

A deafening silence.

You can never get used to silence no matter how long you’ve spent almost your entire life drowned in it because when it’s silent, your mind likes to speak. It likes to act. It likes to play with you.

Playing and playing and playing until you get too exhausted it drains all that you are.

You hate silence.

Hate it more than anything.

More than your father perhaps.

“So,” hence you’re the one to break it with a leg crossing over the other, leaning back as you play on an easygoing expression as if Mister Butler’s death meant nothing to you and that despite how much you came to resent Namjoon, letting him know that his brother died did nothing to your conscience. 

“Shall we get straight to the point? We’re ending things, yeah?”

His thick brows knit, chin protruding in the way it always does when he’s angry or serious, his inner cheeks bitten upon.

That’s right, hate me some more.

“Do you have nothing to say?” He keeps his voice restrained, holding back his emotions, but you want to push his buttons. Want him to hate you with all that he has.

“Did you want an apology? Want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness like that night almost eleven years ago?”

“Y/N.”

“I can do it if you’d like,” you uncross your legs, standing, “I have no shame after all.”

“Y/N.”

On your knees, “I apologize for—”

“Stop!” He shouts at you, eyes reddening and there are signs of fatigue, nights he spent restless, nights he spent shedding tears for the news that you gave him, the bags he doesn’t care to hide, hair imperfect, disheveled, different from his perfect image, the stare in his eyes holding so many emotions it’s a surprise he’s deciding not to hide them before you.

Namjoon is a man who holds his walls up high.

Not as high as you but high enough.

He isn’t one to let people read him that easily yet here he is, emotions on full display.

Awkwardly, you stand back up to sit back down on the seat provided for you, feigning an exasperated sigh as if all of this was just a hindrance to your schedule and you’d rather run off killing the people on your hit list.

Namjoon presses his fingers to his temples, trying to keep himself controlled and calm and you frown at the fact that he isn’t lashing out more at you.

You want him to hate you even more than he feels now.

“Why?” He asks, voice strained and quieter.

You shrug. “Was I supposed to know it was your brother I killed then? We didn’t even know each—”

“You found out your old butler was my brother when you approached me again after ten years. You knew he was dead then and you used that to your advantage, hitting me at my weakest. Why?”

“Why?” You feign a chuckle as if the answer was that obvious. “To use you, of course. I needed your power, Namjoon. As a newly developed leader in the mafia world, climbing up the ranks was easy doing it alongside you. You got me to go up against Daejung, helped with Ying and Jummy, and even came to London with me. Not to mention your position as my ally itself scored me a lot of bonuses. Why wouldn’t I have used you? You made a great pawn on my chess board.”

A pawn, right.

“That was all I ever was to you, right? So isn’t it fair I did the same to you?”

He hates that silly little smile you press his way.

“Did none of my sincerity ever mean anything to you?”

The talks of the past, a face of offense as if you’re the only one at fault here. Your little smile falls, though a rueful chuckle leaves your lips. “You talk of the past as if it was just a few years ago. It’s not been a few years, Namjoon, it’s been ten, almost eleven. And in that span of time, a lot has changed. Do you still blindly believe I’m still the person I was then in the same way Hoseok still believes in it?”

His eyes harden. “I know you aren’t the same.”

“That’s right, I’ve changed. You used me as a pawn then, right? Discarded my feelings, all my sincerity, and threw me out when I was no longer useful to you. Why should it matter what I do to you now?”

“I didn’t use anyone you loved against you.”

“You used the boys against me.” You stand from your seat, glaring his way, and he follows suit. “You admitted it, Namjoon, you fell out of love with me, but you falling out of love doesn’t mean it’d be the same for the boys but in the end, they chose you.”

“How is that my fault?”

“It is your fault. A lot of their actions were their own faults but they were entirely your fault. Having you first, loving you first, and having gotten saved by you left them with no other choice but to choose you. If I had fallen out of love with you, they would have still chosen you. Don’t you get that? I wasn’t ever going to be a choice in that relationship, I was always on the losing end, and I would have inevitably gotten tossed away to the side whether you stopped loving me or not. If you had just stopped loving me, why didn’t you just say that? Why did you have to be a coward and made me believe I wasn’t ever going to be enough for you?”

“You ended up fine anyways,” he argues, “It’s not like you had nowhere else to go. Your father accepted you back with open arms.”

Ended up fine?

Your father welcomed you back with open arms?

You laugh.

Laugh.

And Namjoon watches with slight confusion plastered on his face as fits of laughter leaves your lips so obnoxiously you almost sound crazy and out of your mind.

You are crazy and out of your mind because it sounds so funny to you, his words. Your shoulders tremble, a hand coming up to cover your mouth as your eyes crinkle into crescent moons.

“You..really…” It starts to die down, slowly. “So that’s what it was, huh? You decided to play with my feelings, feign the fact that I wasn’t enough so I’d hate you and willingly divorce you on my own so I could return to my dear loving father? That was the story?” When he doesn’t answer your question, the silence answers itself.

Namjoon fell out of love and he thought the best decision to make everyone hurt a little less was to return you to your dear father.

Your father.

Where you’d live out a fantasy and be that lovely little daughter protected by a father, loved and cherished by her people, and not get thrown into a lonely room, a cold, white room. Where you did not get neglected, wondering what her next meal would be because sometimes they come in small platters, or sometimes they don’t come at all, or sometimes you’d get too afraid of it being poisoned because your father has tried to kill you before as a child.

Once? Twice? No.

You can’t count how many times you believed over and over again as a child, thought the food was okay, only to end up in bed sick in the body for days and left on your own to take care of your own self.

Father wanted you dead and he did what he could to try and kill you. You don’t know when he stopped, or if he ever did, because by the time you learned to stop believing in the food he fed you, you started relying on your own self to grab the food you were sure hadn’t gotten touched yet by anyone.

So came the days when you stopped eating, when you wouldn’t eat at all.

Sometimes just bread crumbs you could find in the kitchen, sneaking out in the middle of the night when almost everyone was asleep, stealing bread.

So when you returned, the nightmares and fear returned. 

Because Bangtan never gave you wasted food or anything that was poisoned. You remember it well, remember keeping your eyes open and pointed, watching the way the servers would serve food in random order, watching the way everyone took a bite first before having enough courage to eat yourself.

You never showed them your fears so they never knew and they still don’t.

But you’ve always been afraid of food.

And Yuna was the first person you ever trusted to make you food when you returned to the Reaper’s manor. You only ate what she gave you.

Only ate whatever she could make with her horrible cooking skills; eggshells in her egg sandwiches, food too salty, too bitter, too dirty in color, and sometimes they weren’t even edible.

But you ate them because she was the only person you could trust. The only one.

If she poisoned you it’d be an accident but you still ate it because it was Yuna. The first Reaper, the very first one. The only one you could trust.

The only one.

“You know, I’m glad your brother’s dead.”

Words uttered that don’t have any emotions behind them at all but you utter them with disgust, with contempt, and with hatred for the one who forced you back into that hell and made you fear for every second you lived in that manor when your father was still alive.

There were days when you didn’t eat at all, days when brought into the White Room, you’d just lie there against the wall or on the floor, eyes blank and dull, no hope left in them, no words escaping, no cries for help, no more calling for Hoseok because no one would come.

No one.

Nothing kept you warm except a flimsy old blanket Yuna would put on you but even that wasn’t enough to keep your temperature up.

Or sometimes your temperature would get too high and you’d tremble in that lonely room. The echoes of Yuna’s cries ringing in your ears but you don’t remember a lot of it because every day was like that; painful until you could feel no more.

Painful until you decided to get stronger, to feel all of your father’s wrath and all of his torture.

Hurting even more.

Namjoon will never know what his actions had put you through. He’ll never know.

“Excuse me?” So he glares at you when you tell him those words about his brother, believing in your lies, believing in your anger.

You see the way his eyes shake, hands balling into fists and if you were a man, you’re sure he wouldn’t have held himself back from hauling a punch right onto your face. It’s funny to you, so funny, because you want him to hit you, you want him to hurt you.

You want to feel the pain.

“You..you’re a monster.”

“That’s right, I am.” You play along with his anger, fueling it, wanting him to hate you even more. “I’m a monster, Namjoon. I killed the father who loved me so dearly and I killed the butler who showed me nothing but kindness. Do you know how gentle he was with me? When I’d cry, he’d hold me, when I’d bite onto my lower lips to keep the tears in, he’d worry about my lips bleeding. He’d give me extra treats, stealing the sweets when no one was looking. He’d ask ‘my lady, have you eaten?’ or ‘young miss, don’t eat too fast, the food isn’t going anywhere.’ And when I’d get in trouble and hide away from the adults, he’d be the very first one who’d find me. He always found me. No matter where I’d hide, no matter where I was, he’d find me. He’d be the first one to notice if something was wrong. Always checked my temperature in the morning, always made sure I was eating well, always made sure he was around to play with me if father was too busy or if mother was too sick to pay attention. Your brother loved me. And you know what I did?”

You show him your fingers, the index and middle pressed up against one another with the thumb off to the side, and slowly point it towards your temple, playing a trigger pulled and jerk your head to the side, laughing in Namjoon’s face.

“I killed him, Namjoon. I killed him. I told the Reapers to pull the trigger and he fell dead right before my foot, shocked I betrayed him.”

Namjoon trembles, eyes drifting off to the side, shaking, unsteady, breath held up against him as if he can’t breathe.

“I killed your brother, Namjoon,” you chant like a psychopath. Chanting, chanting, chanting. “I killed Jungwon, I killed your brother.”

He’s weak in his knees, he can’t hold himself up.

His hands come up to hold his face, breathing in, breathing out, while you chant and chant, until Namjoon looks through the cracks of his fingers, piercing eyes, red, a glare mirroring that of the devil, and it’s then that you realize he must really want to kill you right now.

So you push his buttons even further.

“Kill me, Namjoon.”

His hands slowly and shakily fall from his face, wrinkles in between his brows. “What?”

You take a step forward, ignoring all warning signs from your body because Leehyun still has lasting effects on you, and take Namjoon’s wrists, forcing his hands to wrap around your neck with a strong hold. He tries to pull back but you don’t let him.

“Kill me right now,” you dare, eyes staring straight into his soul. “Do it, do us both a favor, Namjoon. If you hate me that much, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”

For what he did to you, calling you names, belittling you, made you feel unwanted, forced you to rip your ring off, kicked you out, throwing you back to your father. Death feels less painful than all the things you went through when you ran back to the arms of your father. 

For throwing you back into the lion’s den when you had escaped for the first time, Namjoon killing you would have been no different.

“Why don’t you just kill me?”

“Are you crazy?! Let go of me.”

“End me!” You push against his hold, tightening both your hands around your neck. “Do it now! You hate me, don’t you? I’m giving you permission now so just do it! I’m right here in your territory so there’s no one to stop you and even after the Reapers get the news of my death, it’s not as if they can kill you. You're stronger than me, stronger than us, and you have men much stronger than we will ever be. So what’s holding you back? End all of your sufferings and you’ll never have to see my disgusting face ever again. End me..-!”

“Stop!”

In the midst of trying to pull away and rid of his grip around your neck, Namjoon accidentally pushes you too hard so you end up on the floor and his eyes widen, a gasp leaving his lips. “Y/N, I—”

“Kill me already!” You’re shouting still, wheezing from the chokehold, coughs leaving you, and while he gets distracted by those painful coughs, your eyes find the gun he placed on the coffee table just before the talk and rush to reach for it.

Only to have it snatched away by your ex-husband.

He presses something on his watch and the door opens, revealing Yoongi and Seokjin.

“Detain her,” Namjoon commands, and they look with confusion.

“What?”

“She’s not in her right mind.”

Your eyes widen, rushing to stand, only to have someone holding you down. “Namjoon, stop being a coward and do it already!” You twist your body against Yoongi and Seokjin’s holds, trying to push them off. “Kill me already!”

Other footsteps are heard, the rest of them have probably come at the sound of your voice, but you’re still jerking about with all of your might. Why does it matter they’re here now? Rushing into the room, eyes widened and filled with a type of fear that wants to understand what’s happening and why you’re acting the way that you are.

Why does it matter now? Why do they have to act like they care? They could have cared then and it would have made a difference but caring now does nothing for you.

“Y/N-”

“Get off me!”

You use your legs, kicking Seokjin away, and use your head to shoot back and hit Yoongi right on his forehead, causing both their grips to falter for a second, and in that second, you escape from them.

“Y/N-” Namjoon comes to stop you but you punch your fist right into the coffee table, causing the glass to shatter from underneath and allowing your skin to tear, blood pooling all about.

The room falls silent.

Frozen.

“Do you know how much it hurts?” You look up, meeting his eyes. You stare at the gun in his hand, the one you failed to grab, the shattered coffee table, and turn at the rest of them before letting out a chuckle as if everything about this was funny. But it’s not funny. It’s not.

“I thought I stopped feeling long ago but it still hurts,” you say at the hand that bleeds with glass shards cut deep inside your skin but they know you aren’t just talking about your hand. “It hurts so much. But you don’t care one bit, do you? Just like that night years ago when I fell on my knees and begged for the pain to stop. You didn’t care then, why would you care now?”

You look at them again, feeling that familiar ache in your chest, a familiar pain you haven’t felt in a long, long time.

“I never begged for help until that last second but you knew, didn’t you? You knew that I was afraid and that I wanted help. You knew I was hurting. But what did you do but live in ignorance bliss, pretending as if nothing had changed and that Namjoon wasn’t purposefully hurting me just to force me into making a decision that he wanted; me out of your lives. You knew everything and you did nothing. If you tell me you cared then, that you did still love me then, then I call that bullshit because how can you love someone and willingly watch them fall apart?

“Ah but I get it,” you sigh, scoffing, “you couldn’t do anything because it was against the mafia’s code, right? Because Namjoon’s your boss, because loving me still and taking my side meant betraying your boss, the boss that saved you, the boss that loved you. If you went against him, if you chose me over him, that would have meant betraying the gang and you have nothing left if you left the gang, right?”

You look at Namjoon, eyes hardening. “That’s what you did, Namjoon. You forced them into a corner, forced them to choose you. Because of your stubborn and selfish ass, you broke apart what could have worked out if you had only tried just a little bit more. Oh, but why does it matter? Why should you continue trying when I could just return to my dear precious gang and live a life of bliss, escaping your abuse and your selfish acts, returning to the people that actually loved me? Because to you, in your head, you thought that I’d be happier if I was to return rather than remain in a toxic environment right? And then everyone would be happy because no matter how much the guys resented you then, in the end they’d forgive you and you’d all return to loving once again and we’d all live happily, ever, after. Me with my gang. You with yours.”

How funny is that?

Everyone lived happily in the end, happy and joyful and back to loving once again as if those three years with you had never existed in the first place. As if you never existed in the first place.

Everyone lived happily ever after.

Everyone but you.

You turn to your bleeding fist and hold it up to take a closer look, hating how your hand trembles, how you can’t seem to hide your anger and pain and fear this time.

No one says anything, no one answers.

It’s silent. You hate silence.

Leehyun walks into your mind when you remember touching Namjoon and letting Yoongi and Seokjin touch you. They’re all here in this room, watching you, staying completely silent because they know all the words you’ve said are true and have no courage to say anything that will rebuke you.

Your left hand comes up to hold your right arm, hugging yourself against the cold chill that falls down your body.

It’s dark, why is it so dark? You don’t remember the room being this dark when you first entered and no one is moving, no one has done anything to make this room darker but it’s dark. Dark.

And cold.

Father likes it when it’s cold. Father likes it when you tremble like a leaf, telling you that you’re better off getting used to the cold but you never did and you don’t think you ever will.

You hate the cold.

Hate it.

You hate the silence, the dark, and the cold.

And when you look up, this time the faces in the room aren’t clear in your vision anymore. Everyone is a blur so you can’t make out what they look like, how they’re looking at you, if they still look concerned, if they still look the same as they had when they first walked in.

Your chest feels heavy, your throat feels as if someone is holding onto it like that moment you forced Namjoon’s hands around you.

He’s not touching you, he’s a few feet away but he’s not touching you. No one is. But you feel a presence, a heavy presence that constricts your breathing, that touches your skin, the nape of your neck.

Why did you touch him? Why did you force him to touch you?

Get away. Please get away.

You take a step back, afraid, and stumble upon something. Perhaps your own foot. But when someone holds an arm out, you immediately put on a defensive stance.

“Don’t touch me,” you demand. “Don’t come near me.”

You’re shaking.

Shaking.

The room is wide, large, so you move to a corner, away from them, and slide down the wall to rest on your bottom because your legs feel weak, because you can’t keep holding yourself up anymore.

You hear a voice in the distance, someone saying Mingyu’s name, but you don’t know what they’re saying. You feel eyes, eyes, and put your head down, afraid.

A second passes.

A heartbeat.

You count the beat of your heart which drums loud and hard against your chest to let you know that you’re still alive, that you’re still living. You count it.

One beat. Two beats. Three beats.

Mingyu says that if he’s not around, you have to get into a corner where no one can touch you, where no one is around, and listen to your heartbeat. You have to count it until he comes.

Until he comes.

Breathe in and out. Don’t forget to breathe.

Four beats. Five beats.

Six. Seven. Eight…

So Mingyu gets called after Namjoon makes a command and when he arrives, you’re sat in the corner of a room, left alone, head lowered, surrounded by seven men who watch your every move from a distance, not wanting you to ever leave their vision in case you do something irrational again.

He’s shocked at the scene, at the hands that still bleed because you refused any treatment, refused anyone to touch you, to come near you.

Mingyu takes a glance at Namjoon for some answers but he says nothing and only looks away to hide his gun behind his back so Mingyu turns back to you and walks over to you, kneeling before you.

“...Boss,” he calls, gently. He makes sure he doesn’t sound cautious, makes sure he doesn’t sound afraid, worried. “Hey, Boss. I’m here. It’s Mingyu.”

You look up slowly and he has to keep himself back from letting out a gasp at the red ring around your neck. Someone touched you but he knows Namjoon wouldn’t have deliberately hurt you on purpose. Did you do something? What happened? Why are you like this?

You say nothing but those eyes of yours are dead. Tired. And when he presses a hand against your cheek, you lean into it, closing your eyes, nuzzling against the warmth of his palm, and barely utter out;

“.....Take me home, Mingyu.”

When the room empties of your presence, the rest of them turn to Namjoon for an explanation, for anything, wondering what had happened, wondering why you demanded such actions from him, wondering why you were like that when they walked into the room.

But the leader keeps quiet for some time, for the longest time, as he looks out the window where he sees you carried in Mingyu’s arms and getting taken away into a black car. It is only when the car disappears completely from his sight does he speak.

“She didn’t do it,” he says and they keep silent, waiting for him to keep going. Namjoon turns from the window to face them and stares at the corner where you had sat. “There are a lot of things Y/N does but what she does best…” he looks at Hoseok, “is lie.”

He takes the gun from his back, examining it as the memories of you trying to grab it flashes in his mind.

“I killed him, I killed him, I killed him.” You chanted over and over again.

“Even back then she was the same. That part of her will never change.”

“You’re saying..”

“She didn’t kill Jungwon,” he concludes. “And everything we knew about her…everything we thought we knew…..all of it was a lie.”

What Besties Do

pairing: seungcheol x reader

summary: you always tease your best friend, but maybe this time you’ve pushed him too far.

warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, backshots, overstimulation, big dick!cheol, multiple creampies, light teasing, reader and seungcheol are insatiable, pussy drunk!seungcheol

a/n: here’s something to celebrate one month with this blog! couldn’t be more grateful for all the love and support! <3 minors dni!!

You can’t help but think that you never should’ve started anything. By now, you feel like you might actually pass out from how fucked out you are. And yet, your unhinged friend sees no reason to stop. Not when his face still in between your trembling thighs, face covered in your arousal.

Seungcheol swipes his tongue across your dripping cunt, smirking when you let out another pathetic whimper. He’ll never tell you, but he’s dreamed of having you like this for a long time. To finally be able to feast on you feels like a scene out of one of his wet dreams.

“Ch-Cheol!” Your broken cry makes him rut his hips against the mattress, trying to relieve his aching cock with a little bit of friction.

As expected, it doesn’t work. He won’t know true relief until your sweet pussy is wrapped around him. His cock twitches at the very thought.

“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.” He tells you as he gently nips at your sensitive clit.

The action makes you jolt and buck your hips into his face. Fuck. When you laughed at Seungcheol after he told you that he was able to fuck any woman stupid, you never thought it would end like this. You should’ve known your best friend would do anything to prove you wrong, and you know that this is only the beginning of his prowess.

It only takes another drag of his tongue against your quivering pussy for you to topple over the edge. The way he laps up every last drop of your release makes you clench around nothing. Seungcheol licks his lips at the sight. He places a gentle kiss on your messy cunt before he sits up.

You can’t take your eyes off his huge, veiny cock. It's so pretty and thick, like something you could only dream up in your imagination. It's hard for Seungcheol not to feel extremely good when you’re eyeing his cock the way you currently are. He knows he's well endowed in that department, but to have you look at him with so much desire makes a carnal heat cloud his mind.

Seungcheol gently thumbs at your throbbing pussy, loving every little sound that escapes you. Vaguely he thinks that once he has you like this, he’ll never be able to let you go. But he shoves the thought to the back of his mind and focuses on fucking you until you've gone dumb on his cock.

“Seungcheol.” You whine. “Don’t tease.”

His smirk is wicked, and you hate that it looks so damn attractive to you. What you hate even more is that he doesn’t listen to your plea, instead he purposely rubs his hot cock against your entrance, gently fucking himself between your folds. You start to grind up against him, desperate to have him split you open and fuck you into the mattress.

“Thought you said it was too much.” Your best friend teases through a groan, loving how responsive you are for him.

You manage to scowl at him. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

Seungcheol loves the look you have on your face. Your glazed eyes and fucked out expression makes him want to stuff you full of his cum. He can tell you’re too sensitive, but now he’s only worried about having you in the way he wants. His large hands hold down your hips as he slowly eases his thick cock into your warm cunt.

He closes his eyes when he feels the leaking tip of his cock hit your cervix. Your wanton moan makes him throb wildly. “Fuck.” He groans, eyes opening to see your bliss-covered face. “You’re so fucking tight.”

His words make you clench down on him, and that’s all it takes for him to start pounding into you like it’s the last time he’s ever going to fuck you. The loud squelching of your pussy paired with your wanton moans is like music to Seungcheol’s ears. He drills into you harder, mind hazy and only aware of how your wet cunt feels around his dick.

At this point you don’t care that he’s already made you come on his tongue several times and that you might be on the verge of blacking out. The drag of his cock feels too good, and you want nothing more than for this feeling to last forever. It feels like he's splitting you in half every time he thrusts into you, and you can only whimper and let out choked moans.

Now you knew why he had been so cocky when this all started.

“So… so good.” You arch your back up and shove your tits in his face, moaning when he latches on to one of your hardened nipples.

The way his tongue circles the hardened bud has you bucking your hips to meet his thrusts. All the sensations are turning your brain into static, and your moans soon turn into nonsensical babbling. You can’t even be mad when Cheol releases your nipple with the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen on his face. The way his cock his hitting your sweet spot makes it impossible for you to feel anything other than pure bliss.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You mewl. “It’s too deep—”

“You’ll take everything I give you.”

His assertive growl has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and when his large hand roughly squeezes one of your tits, the coil in the pit of your stomach snaps. With your hot cunt clamping down on his aching cock so tightly, Seungcheol can’t hold back his own orgasm. He shoves his face into your neck as he spills his hot, thick cum inside you.

Seungcheol doesn’t know when to stop, you realize. He keeps fucking his cum into you like he’s afraid of wasting even one drop. Your loud cries to go faster and harder makes his cock throb wildly. He’s powerless to your demands. His hips start to snap into yours unrelentingly, hitting the spongy spot inside you over and over again.

He thinks it’s cute how you’re suddenly biting down on your bottom lip to stifle you moans. Seungcheol smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Still want more, sweetheart?”

The stupid pet name actually has you gushing around him like you’re on the verge of another orgasm. His rough hands palm your tits, squeezing and kneading the the tender skin. You can’t hold back you moans this time. His fingers pinch at your perked nipples roughly, and for a moment he can’t believe he’s waited this long to get his hands on you.

Helpless to the delicious stretch his dick provides, you nod with a pathetic whimper. “Yes.” You mewl as his thick cock throbs against your tight walls.

Your nails dig in the muscles of his back, feeling them flex under your touch as he slams his hips into yours with a loud groan. It only takes another hard thrust against your sweet spot for you to come around his huge cock.

“Cheol.” You whine when he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

Your stupidly hot friend only responds with a mischievous smirk. “Give me another one, yeah?”

And then he angles his hips so his veiny cock hits right against the spongy spot inside you, unrelenting in his vigour to watch you come under him again. All you can do his arch into his animalistic pace because your absolutely addicted to the way he feels inside you; how he fucks his cum into you, not giving a fuck about overstimulating both you and himself.

His pelvis grinds against your puffy clit and you let out a loud moan, tightening like a vice around his cock. Seungcheol gasps out a praise. “That’s it, baby. So good for me.”

“Fuck. Keep doing that.” You moan out as you throw your head back, another orgasm rippling through you.

Seungcheol loves the way your cream stains the length of his cock. A ring has formed around the base of it, and he can’t help but want to keep going. He can’t get enough of you and your sweet little pussy. The wet slapping sounds filling the room only spur him on more.

His thrusts turn sloppy, and within the next second he’s coming inside you, painting your walls with his seed. Seungcheol looks so good above you, panting with his flushed cheeks. You bite your lip as he pulls out of you, feeling his cum slowly drip out of your cunt and ruin the sheets beneath you.

Just when you think he’s done with you, he’s suddenly flipping you over and pulling you back on to him. Seungcheol plunges back in, still not ready for this to be over. He was going to ruin you so you would never even think about going to another man to help you with your needs.

“Gonna fill your sweet little cunt so that you can feel me for days.” The deep growl of his voice and rough snap of his hips has your eyes rolling to the back of your head with your lips parted open in a silent scream.

His aching cock hits deeper and deeper with each stroke, and you know it won’t be long before you come again. Seungcheol has already filled you up to the brim with how many times he’s came inside you, but still he won't stop. And you don’t want him to.

It’s not like he’s willing to, either. Not when your pussy is gripping his cock so tightly like it wants to keep him inside forever. Seungcheol lets out a loud moan before he slaps your ass, hard. His large hands grab a handful of your ass, squeezing roughly. Fuck. He’s dreamed of you in this position so many times. Your pretty little ass bouncing back on his cock.

Seungcheol spreads your cheeks to get a better view of how your cunt is swallowing his cock whole. You’re creaming all over him, and he smirks when he realizes your thighs are trembling again. “Such a greedy girl. You love taking this fat cock, don’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I do.” You moan shamelessly, too lost in your pleasure to care about how fucked out you sounded. “Love your cock.”

It’s your turn to smirk when he lets out a choked moan as you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, fluttering cunt clenching desperately around his cock. Seungcheol fucks into you roughly, bringing his hand around to toy with your puffy clit to push you closer to the edge.

The moan you let out when you come is downright pornographic, and it’s the prettiest sound Seungcheol has ever heard. It triggers his own orgasm, hot cum filling up your spasming pussy. “That’s it, sweetheart. Milk me dry.” He groans as thick ropes of his cum keep spilling into you.

He goes still, and he gently flips you around before pulling out. The sight of your mixed release makes his cock twitch. Seungcheol goes to get up, but stops when you make grabby hands at him. His heart melts at the sight, and he immediately goes to lay with you.

You domineeringly pull him against you so that your skin is pressed against his. Affectionately, you start to rub your cheek against his collarbone. Seungcheol wraps his arms around you and gently rubs your bare back. “Let me clean you up—”

“Sleepy.” You mumbled against him, snuggling deeper into his warmth. “Stay.”

Seungcheol can’t say no to you. He loves you too much to deny your wishes. And so he places a gentle kiss on your head before he lets himself be consumed by the fatigue.

He vaguely thinks that once you two wake up, he’s going to stuff you full of his cum all over again.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002

↳ Index [Day 08 - Double Ended Dildo]

Pairing: bratty Good Boy!Jungkook x Mistress!Reader

Kinks: anal (f.&m.recieving), anal fingering (f.&m.recieving), rimjob, double ended dildo, lube, mutual masturbation, some dirty talk, post orgasm torture (m.recieving), so much cum, cuddly aftercare

Wordcount: 4.9k

a/n: help i have fallen and i can’t get up. uhm…why did i not write about this kink sooner??? hello?? 💛

Jungkook is gripping you, leaving nail marks on your skin. He is writhing underneath you, groans muffled by your ass. He’s been buried – face first and tongue eager – in it for the past twenty minutes, eating it with such passion you could scream. You probably would if you weren’t so busy with him yourself, fucking two of your fingers in and out of his puckered hole. 

You have the best view of how much this affects him. His cock is pink and swollen, leaking streaks of translucent bliss all over his happy trail and trimmed pubes. At this point, you could probably switch out the lube for his puddle of precum. You’re milking him so well. 

Jungkook has been a little bit of a brat today, talking back when he wasn’t supposed to and trying to bury his hand under your shirt in the middle of the grocery store aisle. And because you know your boyfriend and his sneaky attempts at getting you to punish his bratty little ass, you are planning to do exactly that. You are going to punish his bratty little ass and you are going to have a good time yourself doing it. 

“Fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, “that’s so good, you’re so hot”, he rasps and spits on your hole only to pick it up and use it to push the first knuckle of his middle finger into you.

“Fuck, Kook”, you moan, looking over your shoulder. 

His eyes are fixated on your ass, lips puffy and wet from eating you out. You push back, forcing more of his finger into you. 

Jungkook curses, tensing around your own digits in reaction. 

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