Call It Coincidence Or Fate, But Its My First Time Holding Leadership Position At School. Do You Have

Call it coincidence or fate, but it’s my first time holding leadership position at school. Do you have any tips :(( I don’t want to be a bad leader. I want to have the qualities of a good leader. I want to be one

Anon 😭 Congratulations on your first ever leadership position! Don’t worry too much and follow the flow. If you are a natural, you can handle this without needing my tips. But since you asked, I will share what I can. Disclaimer: I’m in no way a perfect leader nor a good leader for everyone but for as long as I’ve been holding various of leadership positions, I managed to gain experience and improve to be a better leader.

Tips #1 Always have a functioning assistant.

This is important because remember, a king is always with a queen. To lead is to share. So find yourself an assistant leader if you don’t have one yet. They could always be a shoulder to lean on. If you have a soft personality, I’d advise you to find someone that’s verbal with their opinions. To some people, being a leader means your word is absolute or like people must always follow the leader’s word. So you need an equal to always remind you that other’s opinions matter too.

Tips #2 Open to constructive criticism

I’m not very good at handle any type of criticisms, but I’m working on it and always tell myself this tips#2. But to be a good leader is to be open and ready to accept and absorb the good and positive.

Tips #3 Strong communication between members

Communication is very important. If you can’t do physical, online will do. Do i need to elaborate on this? Communicate with your team when you are deciding something. Communicate with your team when the situation calls for it.

Ok idk anymore i feel like i’m talking nonsense now 😭 I’ll update more if I manage to think of smtg!!

All the best, anon ❤️‍🩹

leader with ptsd

WHAT TRAUMATISED YOU WINTER 😭

scented candle…

LETSGOOO Y’ALL BETTER READ HER FIRST EVER FIC. Taehyung IS hawt in this 😮‍💨

—Twisted Alliance

Pairing: Taehyung x reader.

Genre: enemies with benefits au, assassin au, smut.

Warning: mentions of knife, knife play, nipple play, tiny bit mention of blood, oral sex (f receiving), dacryphilia if you squint, sex on car’s bonnet.

Word count: 6k+

♫: Drive you insane- Daniel Di Angelo, Fetish- Selena Gomez, Yad- Vanna Rainelle (English cover), Or nah- Somo.

AN: It took me a long arse time to write this, like way too long but I’m kinda satisfied with the outcome so whatever. Also, thanks to @kthyg for proofreading and helping me out as always, I can’t thank you enough <33 Let me know your thoughts on this.

The car gradually comes to a stop. The roaring engine suddenly went quiet, which gave way to the voice of the men sitting beside you in the driver’s seat. 

“Are you sure he’ll be there? You know Boss will flip if you go back with nothing to show.” Woozi glances shortly at you before moving his eyes back to the red light. The seconds shown above are going slower than your heart’s thump.

46..

Thump

Thump

Thump

45..

Thump 

Thump

44..

Thump

Thump

Thump

Thump

‘Are you sure?’ Are you? Are you sure he’ll be there? Yes.

Are you sure you’ll meet him? Yes.

Are you sure you’ll go back with nothing to show?

Yes.

You feel your partner glancing back at you, surely analysing you. Your silence, your hands, even your damn sweat. Why is there sweat? Where is it going? Why there and not here? Because that’s what he always does. Always analysing, always on alert. At least since you joined this branch.

You put your hands on your lap, one on another, and raise your gaze. Looking straight ahead, you respond to him, “He’ll be there.” He stops drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. That piqued his interest. “And you don’t have to worry about answering to your boss, Woozi. I’ll deal with that.”

“Worry? I’m merely giving you a heads up,” his gaze falls on your hands that are resting on your lap prettily before he directs his eyes back to straight “Boss went through hell of troubles to get through you, to make you move in this branch for this special task. If you fail, he’ll be disappointed.” 

You look at his side profile. All the other car’s lights illuminate his face, sharpening and highlighting his features.

Every now and then, you wonder how he can be over the age of 35.

Woozi is your senior. You have known him since training days as you trained under him. Since you were recruited and placed in different branches, this is the second time you both have talked to each other. First was when you were moved to this branch for a specific task which involved working with him as you both have a past. Per the boss' words, achieving success would become effortless if everyone collaborates. 

He can be intimidating and intense sporadically; however, he’s unparalleled in every endeavour he undertakes. It’s almost admirable how he trained you and a few others while he himself was under training.

“I’ll be disappointed, darling,” he feigns sadness before putting on a smirk. 

Just when you open your mouth to respond, the lights turn green, and the unsettling silence fills up with the roaring of the engine. The car rumbles, and you watch as his left hand shifts the gear to 7, and the car tears through the traffic.

Bastard.

You get out of the car, and Woozi follows to stand beside you, entering the venue together.

The opulence and grandeur are simply breathtaking. The space stretches out before you, with high ceilings adorned with exquisite chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow. The vastness of the venue is overwhelming in itself.

In this realm of luxury, you spot many prestigious people, each one exuding an air of importance and accomplishment. Everyone is engaged in captivating conversations, their laughter and animated gestures resonating through the halls.

From the luxurious furnishings to the exquisite floral arrangements, no expense has been spared in creating an atmosphere of pure grandeur.

“Money speaks, right?” 

The sudden appearance of a faceless voice jolts you to the very essence of your being. When you potently move your gaze from the dripping luxury, the ‘faceless’ voice gets a face, and that, too, is an unpleasing one.

Woozi.

“So, what are you dreaming about?” He delicately swirled his whiskey glass, watching the amber liquid and ice gently spin within. 

Your head tilts in confusion at his question. His questions, remarks, and even words compel your mind to race before speaking. “Dreaming? I was barely admiring.”

“Oh, my bad then, darling.” He leans in. “I thought we were here to look for him and not to admire someone’s stupidity. I dare say, your eyes must have seen more captivating sights than this mere offering.”

He raises his glass and tilts it in your direction before retreating to some corner, mingling in with others. Engaging in casual conversations, even you were contemplating whether he shared a childhood bond or familial ties with any of them. 

Is he even familiar with any of those faces?

You don’t realise how long your stare is pinned on Woozi’s figure until he throws a two-finger salute at you. Your eyes take pleasure in moving them away from his form.

His mere presence can sometimes be infuriating.

However, Woozi isn’t and shouldn’t be the topic of your concerns. You are aware enough to refrain from simply standing like a mere statue, put on display for everyone’s curious gaze. 

As you walk through these elegant surroundings, your eyes scan for your target. The air is filled with murmurs and clinking of glasses, blending harmoniously with the soft melodies played by the live band. Amidst the sea of well-dressed guests, your eyes dart from one face to another, searching for the familiar features that will identify your target.

He is supposed to arrive here even before you. 

“Searching for someone, sweetheart?”

That. That voice.

You had to still yourself by clutching onto the chair that was flushed with velvet. 

Everyone seems to find delight in appearing in front of you from thin air.

His deep oceanic voice reaches you before his hand lightly brushes against your back, and your body suddenly tenses up as if it decided to handle all the world’s stress. Your lungs suddenly need all the oxygen surrounding you. 

His hand is cold in contrast to your body’s burning state. Calm to your chaos? Na-ah.

Ice to your damn burn, and it stings.

You count your breathing before facing him. 1….2…..3…

His long messy hair, always hiding his forehead from everyone as if it’s some princess that is always behind the curtains, they’re now slicked back and styled to perfection. His features look sharper under all the lightning; his jawline is defined. He has a muscular frame, boasting broad shoulders and a trim waistline, all hidden under his black T-shirt. On top of this, he is carrying a leather jacket of a colour similar to wood. 

His eyes, those captivating eyes, are enhanced with glasses, so damn alluring that you had to drag your gaze lower on the mole on his nose and under his lower lip, too – to not get pulled into his hypnotising eyes.

That mocking smile has been lingering on his face since you have known him. Haunting you whenever you meet, whenever he fucks yo—

You don’t even realise for how long you have been focused on his face —specifically, his lips, but let’s keep that hidden— until his smile widens and one eyebrow raises. Did he ask something? What could he even possibly talk about right now? Where is Woozi? Is he watching you talking– no, admiring Taehyung—

“Is my face that interesting? Why don’t you tell me what’s so interesting for you to go deaf so suddenly? Is it my eyes? My smile? Maybe my lip—”

“Do you ever shut up, Kim? You seem to have quite a fondness for self-flattery.”

His eyes pierce into yours from behind those glasses before he flashes a grin, “Oh, she speaks.” 

“I’d prefer not to and the offer only stands for you.”

“Ah, I knew I could count on you for the special treatment. You’re always so sweet for me.” He has his hands over his chest, clearly mocking you, and your face feels on fire because you’re aware of what he’s implying by the sweet.

Well, fuck him. 

If Woozi notices you talking with this fucker then you’re done for. Unlike you, he believes in finishing business as quickly as possible, especially when you have the target right in your hands. However, that’s precisely the point, this guy in front of you is anywhere but in your hands.

He takes two glasses from a passing waiter, and you assume they contain negronis, one for each of you. Swirling his glass gently, he cock his head to the side and darts a glance to his left hand, offering you the glass and then shifting his gaze to your stagnant form. 

After a few seconds of pondering, you decide that drinking one glass won’t pose a risk. Besides, a small amount of alcohol will only reward you with some additional confidence, and you will be delighted to acquire as much as possible.

However, it seems like the heavenly being is displeased with you because you can see Woozi’s side profile from here. He is merely 10 feet away from you, engaged in a conversation for heaven knows how long, yet still manages to throw daggers at you. 

Your fucking luck.

You focus back on the man before you; however, his eyes are narrowed on Woozi for some reason. 

Even in their training days together, Taehyung despised Woozi. You three were together at the time of training, where you and Taehyung were being trained under Woozi. He always put up a rebellion against the old man. His rebellious nature manifested in the form of defiance against Woozi’s authority.

There is one specific instance that stands out vividly in your mind.

On a scorching summer day, you were engaged in an intense outdoor training session as Woozi carefully explained the objectives. As the session commenced, Woozi offered guidance and support; however, Taehyung’s face was contorted with disdain. In a pivotal moment, when Woozi approached you closely to demonstrate a specific technique where he was standing right behind you, adjusting your posture, Taehyung’s simmering frustration erupted. Jaw clenched, he intentionally defied Woozi’s instructions, purposefully deviating from the assigned course. However, unfazed by Taehyung’s eruptions, Woozi continued to mentor you.

They were a complete fiasco.

Fortunately, you all three are placed under different organisations.

Unfortunately, all three organisations are in a strained relationship with each other.

Upon clearing your throat, his head turns back to you, he directs a narrowed gaze towards you, followed by firmly setting his jaw, but then he abruptly breaks into a wide grin. You find yourself in a state of bewilderment, grappling with unanswered questions.

“Well, that’s some interesting news, sweetheart.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he continues, “Never knew you were into Woozi. Are old guys a thing for you now? I mean, it’s understandable considering their experi—”

“You better think twice before finishing that sentence,” you seethe, and before he can respond to your warning, you grip his left wrist that was holding his drink and drag him away from there, away from any little chance of Woozi taking notice.

To say that he was not startled would be an understatement of the highest degree. But then he abruptly halted, pulling you back with him a little.

You turn your gaze towards him, “What? We are yet to get away from the crowd. Why did you pause so unexpectedly?”

He opens his mouth a little, closes it and then his tongue comes out to wet his lips before he begins again, “Oh, excuse me, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting that.” He moves his stare from your face to your hand, gripping his wrist to his hand, holding his own drink to his T-shirt, which is a tad bit drenched in Negroni now.

Okay, maybe not only a bit.

As you loosen your grip on his wrist, he drops the glass he was holding and extends his hand towards you. His voice drops an octave, “However, don’t let me be of any interruption to you, please carry on.” 

This fucker is clearly enjoying the whole show you’re putting on.

There’s a part of you that wants Woozi to notice you, that wants to put an end to this long-awaited unfinished business. But the other part, a part you’re reluctant to admit, isn’t in favour of putting a full stop to this strange rivalry which, more than half, is filled with desires.

“If I let you become my interruption ever, then do me a favour and hit me.” You glance at him before continuing to drag him away, “Oh, and do it hard, cause I must be out of my rational mind.”

You can’t see his face, but you hear his laugh, and for a few seconds, that’s all your mind is processing. 

You despise how he fucking affects you, how he always gets you in whichever way he prefers.

“I love your sense of humour, sweetheart. Ever thought of being a stand-up comedian? I can see you thriving in that career.”

“I can see you failing in shutting up.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that? You can’t possibly chat alone unless you’re into that.”

You’re still walking— speed walking, and you’re not surprised to find yourself struggling alone, even when you’re the one dragging him. He’s just behind you, appearing to be on a damn morning walk. 

“We can talk all you want when we’re ou—”

“Ah, there you are, darling.”

Woozi. 

He’s right in front of you, his hands inside his pants’ pockets as his eyes fixate on you before moving them to your hand holding Taehyung’s. Narrowing his eyes for just a second, he shifts them back to you, and you can say with guarantee that he’s noting this down in his mansion like a brain. 

At this point, he probably has a separate room— no, a hall, for things he noted down about you.

Nothing about him gives him away. Truthfully, you prefer it that way. However, you just hope he doesn't suspect anything. He might be wondering why you are in hands with Taehyung. Hell, even you’re wondering that. You could’ve simply asked him to walk with you.

As if he would follow you like a puppy. Who are you kidding?

You hear Taehyung clear his throat, making you break the absent-minded eye contact with Woozi, and you’re so thankful for that. You might just spew those two sentences to Kim, but you remind yourself that you're still sane enough to shut your mouth.

“Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence after so long.” Woozi gives a sarcastic smile in Taehyung’s direction, and you think  so long for you Woozi, “Good to see you again, Kim.”

Woozi just stands there, a wry smile hanging on his lips as his eyes pin themselves on the man standing behind you. And just like that, even with all the commotion around you, music blasting from speakers all around, people engaged in loud conversations, a strange silence takes its place among you three. For a long while, there is no exchange of words, not from the mouth at least. However, their gazes are engaged in a long-awaited conversation.

You’re suddenly so unbelievably uncomfortable; you’d rather see them brawl with each other than this restless silence. 

To your surprise, Taehyung pulls you back towards him, and you would have crashed into his chest if it wasn’t for his hold on you. 

Fuck these men and your heels.

“Can’t promise I feel mutual. We were just about to head somewhere.” 

“Always a polite talker,” Woozi’s tone is dipped in cynicism. Then he shifts his stare on you, and his sudden change of expressions takes you aback. “May I know where you are heading to, Y/N?” 

Woozi used your name.

You shake your head a little to come back to your senses, “Just ou—”

“Actually, no. You may not know. And I’ll appreciate it if you move out of our way.” Taehyung interrupts.

You wonder what’s wrong with Taehyung so suddenly, but then again, he’s always on edge. Always gets irritated in a short span of time, especially if it’s Woozi; his patience is walking on a thin line.

But then you’re knocked out of the air your lungs are carrying when he hooks his fingers inside the back of the dress. The dress itself is backless. Your back is exposed to your waist already, and now his two fingers are nestled inside your dress.

His fingers inside your dress, his fingers touching your waist, he is touching you.

You see Woozi saying something. You watch his mouth opening and closing and his eyes narrowing at you, but Taehyung’s fingers are touching your waist and oh lord—

A wince makes its way out of your mouth, and that’s when you comprehend that Taehyung fucking pinches you. Hard.

You twist your head swiftly to the back, and he leans in at the same time. Your brain is so foggy at the moment that for a minute, you fail to remember that Woozi is just right there. It’s all because Taehyung is so close to you. Because he has his fingers hooked inside your dress. Because your back is glued to his chest. Because his musk and vetiver scent is the only thing you can breathe in suddenly.

Because it’s Taehyung.

“You’re letting my interruptions distract you, sweetheart.” he whispers, and his warm breath burns the back of your neck; you’re afraid it might leave a scar. “Focus.” 

“Y/N? I asked you something unless you have gone deaf.” Woozi’s stern voice kicks you back to your senses, giving you a harsh reminder that you’re not alone.

Why do you want yourself to be alone with him?

“I’ll be with you in a while Woozi, and besides, you are not babysitting me.”

You watch as Woozi watches you for a few seconds and then opens his mouth to retort, but Taehyung beats him to it, “Well, you heard the lady. See you never again.”

With that being said, Taehyung pushes you forward, and you’re suddenly overcome by the urge to stab his toe’s pinky with your heels. However, you just elbow him lightly, creating a little distance between both of you. Thank you, heavenly beings. You glance back to Woozi as you keep walking, only to find him still standing on his spot. Only now, he’s watching you or, more precisely, shooting daggers at you, and you’re sure one of them will hit you. He raises one eyebrow, and you just blink your eyes at him with a nod before you exit the room completely.

As Taehyung and you continue down the corridor, you glance at his face, and you’d be lying if you said you’re surprised. You can sense the seething anger within him.

However, it’s not your concern. You’ve never quite understood what his issue with Woozi has been all along. Although why is he fuming?

He takes a sharp turn to the right, and you’re promptly reminded that now, you are following him. 

“Where are you heading to?” You speed-walk and try to catch up with his steps as he continues walking, except now, it seems like he increased his speed. Assuming that you’re just struggling would be an insult to you. He takes long strides towards, what you’re assuming, is the exit of the venue.

“Out of here.” He says it with gritted teeth without even casting a glance at you as if he’s talking on some earpiece. Your steps slow down, and he pauses so abruptly in his track; without turning his head, he just stares you down his shoulder before speaking assertively, “And you are following me. Do not even entertain the idea of going back inside.”

What got his knickers in a twist?

Then he exits the venue with you hot on his heels. “What has gotten into you? The fuck are you so mad about?”

You stare at his broad back, and for a few seconds, he stays still before turning around to face you, and you’re going through every possible way you can make him turn back. His one eyebrow is raised mockingly, and his glasses just highlight his glare that is so intense, you might as well look away, but then his lips are twisted into a scowl. A scoff leaves his lips, and everything about him compels you to meditate your mind about whether you asked something stupid.

“I find it hard to believe that you actually came here with him, with Woozi out of all the people there.”

You can’t fucking believe him right now.

“Tell me you aren’t fucking serious cause you’re being unreasonably ridiculous right now.” He’s so damn out of it. “You are showing a significant degree of stupidity.”

You watch as his eyes narrow on you before he starts to close the distance. “Oh, is that so? Am I the one who is being ridiculous here?” He stands in front of you, towering over your figure. “Or maybe you take me as a foolish person.”

“Maybe you’re one,” you cross your arms before clearing your throat. Arguing with him is similar to talking to a wall, “If you’re going to argue with me over some nonsense then I’m going back inside. Maybe you don’t care but time is of essence.”

“You could’ve just mentioned about Woozi last night when you texted or were you that distracted, hm? Who knows where you were when you texted me.”

Your head whips back just when you have taken one step to walk away. You’re suddenly so aware of the small, slender dagger that is fastened to your thigh, it’s burning on your skin, or perhaps your skin is on fire.

When you speak, you feel your words coming out laced with venom, “Perhaps I was with Woozi. Perhaps we were doing something disgraceful.” You clenched your teeth with such force, “You have no authority to make assumptions about me. I will not answer you, and I have no obligation to disclose my whereabouts or provide details. We are not even toge—”

It takes you a few minutes to process what happened. In a sudden, shocking move, Taehyung grabs your neck, his fingers digging into your skin, while swiftly propelling you back towards the wall. As his grip tightens around your neck, a surge of conflicting emotions rushes through you. The fear remains, but there’s also an undeniable undercurrent of something else— desire.

His face comes closer to yours, and the foggy cloud of desire falters for a minute before his low and deep voice reaches you, “Let’s see who will you answer to then, hm? Because in the end, it always turns out to be me. You always answer to me and always beneath me.” The foggy cloud returns, almost blinding you.

In a sudden and unexpected move, he bridges the gap between both of you, his lips crashing onto yours with a fierce intensity. The shock of the gesture sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. 

He pushes his tongue inside before pulling back slightly; however, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip with brutal force. As the sick, twisted part of your mind revels in the pleasure, it disregards the relentless screams of your instincts, urging you to resist and push him away. With a renewed intensity, he forcefully presses his lips against yours once more, swallowing your gasps and suppressing your winces.

Your body goes rigid as his other hand reaches behind you, playing with the strings and so dangerously close to opening the knot that’s holding your dress altogether. His hand trails down your backbone before he pushes it further down, and just like that, his hand slips inside the back of your dress, grabbing your arse before he squeezes the flesh harshly, digging his fingernails.

“Ah! Fuck—” A muffled moan slips past your lips which makes you pull away harshly, a string of saliva lingering between both of you. You take in as much air as you can before he invades your personal space again.

Your breaths come out harshly as you struggle to function effectively. The realisation of his hands still on your neck comes back to you, and you are weak in your knees that you might fall to the ground if he were to retrieve his hand back. His fervent breath hits your jawline before he harshly bites down your cheek, causing you to wince loudly at the pain.

 He dips his head near your ear before his rich voice reaches you, “Don’t make me lose my already low morals, sweetheart.” Then your senses come back to life when you feel a cold sensation on your neck. Your knife is pressed against your throat, near enough to make a cut if you are to move even a single inch. Yet you’re an utter goner in his hold; your mind is nothing but a foggy haze of desires, all awakened by this man. You are aware of the risk this situation brings you both, but are you aware enough to give any fucks? He has your knife at your throat. He is dangerously close to your body, and then he drags the knife to your collarbone, his eyes fixed on yours and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

His head dips, and he bites harshly on your collarbone as the knife remains there, pressing into your skin. He then licks a long stripe over your collarbone, and your whole body runs cold. It’s too much for you to take, too much to comprehend and make sense of. You can think of nothing unless it involves him, with you, in every bad way. 

You feel him pushing his knee between your legs, and you’re forced to open them for him. His jeans come in contact with your aching core before he presses his knee harder, eliciting a gasp of pleasure past your lips. 

“Taehyung…” His name comes out in a breathy whisper. Your eyes momentarily close before you feel the knife pressing on your cheekbone, his eyes glinting with lust so obviously. The knife provides the cooling sensation to your body that seems to be on a fucking stove. You glance at the small sharp object in his hand before taking a shaky breath, “It’ll leave a scar if you…” The words are trapped in your mouth as his lips find their favourite spot behind your ear before he drags his tongue down to your neckline and breathes in harshly.

Oh, lord.

“I wonder why you had it with you in the first place. Surely not for me, right, sweetheart? You wouldn’t do that to someone whose name you worship every other night now, or will you? Hm?” 

“Woozi… Fuck—” his mouth keeps on assaulting your neck and exposed chest, the intensity rising at the mention of woozi, “He gave it to me.”

His eyes bore into yours for a few seconds before he stopped all his moments abruptly and created enough distance between yours and his upper body so that you could finally breathe and see something else that was not him. He tilts his head, puts the knife under your chin within striking distance of your neck, and moves it upward, mandating you look up into his eyes. 

“Let’s put your knife to the test then and see if it lives up to its reputation.” 

“Fuck, Taehy—ah!” a quivering moan makes its way out of your lips as you struggle to keep yourself balanced on his car’s bonnet. Your hands are entangled in his hair, and he digs his fingertips into your thighs each time you pull on his roots.

His premium Ford Mustang Fastback is probably groaning beneath you. He has you sprawled on his Mustang’s bonnet, his hands holding your thighs up, and he works his mouth on your pussy. His tongue teases your clit before he nibbles on it with the right amount of pressure. Your grip tightens on his hair as your eyes close in pure ecstasy. Your brain melted to a putty as the overwhelming pleasure washes over you. 

A silent cry leaves your lips in an ‘o’ shape when his tongue keeps abusing your sweet spot, not giving you any time to comprehend. Then he pushes two fingers in at once, and you break. He ruins you in unspeakable ways. His fingers plunge in and out of you at a rapid pace, several profanities leaving your mouth as he pays no heed to you. You attempt to close your legs when he takes a few long stripes on your weeping pussy and flattens his tongue on it. Your body jolts upwards, and your breath hitches for over a few seconds.

“Ah– Taehyung… Please…” You feel your throat drying up, an intense cry of pleasure falling from your lips. Your eyes are adorned with fat tears because of the immense pleasure and overstimulation, because of his tactics, because of his fingers grazing your walls and reaching your sweet spot over and over again because he’s digging his fingertips in your flesh harshly as he swirls his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before pulling away with a pop. 

“Jesus, you’re a fucking meal for a starving man.'' His words ring in your ears, clearing the carnal haze for a moment before a sob breaks out in the air.

“Oh my fucking god…”

“Calling for me, sweetheart?” 

 Your scream reverberates in the parking lot before reaching back to your ears; god, it’s humiliating. The whole scene is obscene in itself. His fingers curl inside you twice and thrice before you break, yet again. Your legs quiver as the sudden rush of your heightened pleasure threatens you to break free, and God, you’re so close, so damn close. 

“Let go for me, baby.” 

And you do.

“Fucking— gah—” your screech travels to his ears, and he gives out a devilish grin before devouring you again. His tongue is lapping up twice more rapidly than before, your whole body drained of any energy, yet you aim to push his head away. Your whole body twitches when he stands up from a kneeling position, your lungs halting their functioning at the scene in front of you.

His hair appears dishevelled, his fingers dripping in your essence, and his lips are painted with your slickness. With that wicked smirk, he looks enchantingly debonair, so damn alluring and captivating. 

“You ruined my Mustang’s bonnet, sweetheart,” he says whimsically before he cruelly grabs your jaw, coercing you to open your mouth. Then he plunges his slender fingers inside, resting them on your tongue as you close your mouth around them, trapping them inside. Your tongue circling around his fingers as a strange taste explodes in your mouth. “But aren’t you the sweetest ever?” his voice returns, and your face sets on fire. 

You feel overwhelmingly degraded.

He pulls his fingers out, and for a moment, your focus is on his fingers, covered in your saliva. Since when did you start to take pleasure in having his fingers down your throat? Probably from this instant.

His hand reaches out to you, pulling only your upper body so abruptly that you see black spots for a brief moment. You’re yet to return to your senses, but you’re too far gone for that. You’re face to face with his crotch, and you’ve never been more tempted than now to put your hands on something. His bulge is so prominent under his jeans. Several questions run through your mind; however, one stands out the most:

Will you be able to take him? To handle him?

And the answer? Yes.

Because you always do.

Your shaky hands come up to rest themselves on his belt, and you can sense his eyes following your every action. You dare to look up in his intense stare, and Lord fuck him if you aren’t the most exquisite site ever to him. The fiery innocence staring up at him from that angle flares a carnal desire inside him. How the fuck can someone be so hauntingly enchanting? 

He’s so ruined, all by you.

If you were to ever use that knife on him, it’s safe to say he’d have gladly presented himself to you.

You pull at his jeans’ waistband, and all hell breaks loose. He grips your wrists, halting your actions, and a gasp slips past your lips before he crashes his lips on yours in a so fucking animalistic way. His other hand reaches behind your back, his cold fingers rigorously opening your knot, and the front of the dress falls, putting a show of your bare tits, your nipples so perky and begging him for torture. He’s twisted like that.

“Kim— shit!” He abruptly pulls away before trailing his hot tongue down to your buds, one hand coming up to twist and pinch the other bud. Your back arches as he pushes you back on the bonnet. His warm tongue moves in circles around your areola before he grazes your bud with his teeth, a sharp cry breaking out from you. He moves his mouth to the other bud before nibbling on it, sucking on it, doing all sorts of torture one can imagine. Tears cascade down your eyes, trailing down your cheeks. But gosh, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? A feast for a man’s fantasies? Specifically Taehyung’s.

Your hands reach down between your bodies, your nails grazing his bulge, and Oh, the fucking impatience eating you up.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. The ecstasy that you got me in, no words can ever be enough to praise you.” his words leave you on the edge of passing out, “Such a fucking captivating thing. Go ahead, baby.” His throaty whisper in your ear falters your movement for a swift span before you haphazardly open his belt, your hands working quicker than when you pull the trigger in the practice room. You unzip his jeans, pushing his jeans and Calvin Klein boxer down, and my god, the veins make you breathless. 

You watch as he strokes his girth before he comes closer to your face, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, almost choking you. Your hands twitch to reach up and touch him, but you know better than that, especially when you see your knife in his hand, twirling it before he puts it on your nipple. The cold sensation knocks the air out of you, and you suck in oxygen harshly. He then puts the knife's sharp point near your bud, holding the knife in a standing position, and a resounding scream reverberates inside you. 

The scream breaks free when his firm hand lands on your pussy, slapping thrice. Unfortunately, you don’t have the bliss to move or thrash unless you want blood all over your chest. 

Jesus, he’s so deranged.

“You will stay still for me, right? Unless you are into blood play, then, I’d ravel in making your fantasy come true.” He's so sick, so so sick.

A silent gasp pushes past your lips when he strokes his cock on your folds, slathering it up in your slick. He circles your areola with the dagger and thrust inside with powerful force, bottoming out in one go. Your jaw falls open, but no sound can be heard except for his guttural groan. God, he sounds heavenly. You feel so lightheaded, so full, as you keep coming back and forth out of consciousness. He’s so deep inside you reaching spots you were unaware of could produce such pleasure.

“Fuck, fucking bliss.” You hear him curse out before he pulls out entirely, and you feel like crying because of how empty you feel. 

So brain-rotted.

Your body goes rigid when he thrusts back with more force than before, your hands trying to grab onto something so desperately, yet they stay empty, yearning to touch him. As he gains momentum, his moans and groans push you past your limit, squelching wet noises filling your senses as your oversensitive pussy pleads at his mercy.

Taehyung groans out as he increases his pace, all ferocious with his thrusts as his other hand comes up to pinch your nipples, and a scream rips out of you.

“Fuck Taehyung! Please…” 

“Yeah? Feels good? ‘cause I’m in fucking heaven, fuck—” 

You are willing to do everything if you have the opportunity to hear him like this on a daily basis. His thrusts falter when you clench your pussy around him, and his hand delivers a forceful slap to your tits, a hiss falling from your lips. Your anguished wails and inconsolable sobs are met with apathetic disregard.

He drags the knife down to your belly before pressing into it, and a sharp pain explodes, taking over your senses before he discards the knife into some corner and pushes a hand on the subtle fresh cut he made. Pressing on it, he delves into ever-increasing depths with each successive thrust. Your coil of pleasure teeters with a formidable desire for liberation on being pressed by his hand. Several ‘fucks’ and ‘ah-s’ falling free from both of you.

His hand reaches up to twirl your nipple one last time before his movements become faster and more erratic as he pounds into you with increasing ferocity. His thrusts go deep and hard, hitting all the right spots inside you as you babble out unintelligible words. Your peak heightens as time swiftly passes. His hand moves between your legs, rubbing on your clit until you scream out in ecstasy. 

A sensation of relief washes over you, and he follows soon after, grunting out your name before he spills his seeds inside you, filling you up, and oh my god, you feel so full, so fucking filled to the brink. 

“Fucking shit,” his deep raspy voice reaches to you as your eyes threaten to close, your consciousness walking out of the parking lot, but then a whimper mixed with a hiss makes its way out of your spent form when he pinches and slaps your pussy. 

“Stop— please.” You observe as his eyes gleam with primal lust before he descends upon your lips with force, fiercely biting and teasing until you reciprocate, resulting in the exchange of crimson essence. He pulls away, and a piercing whistle echoes in the area —coming from him— before he looks behind, and your gaze follows with half-droopy eyes. He stares directly into the CCTV and— a fucking CCTV.

You curse, and his head whips to you before he throws a wink your way, infuriating you cause he was aware of the CCTV, fucking damn it. He lowers his face to your visage, sinking his teeth into the contour of your jawline, thus imparting the mingling of blood from his lips onto your skin.

“Holy fuck sweetheart, you will eventually be the reason for my demise. Witness me accept it with a foolish grin on my face.”

Ⓒzyphqr. Do not translate, copy, modify or repost without permission.

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My cat neighbour | pjm

Fair enough. Weirder things had already happened to you, like that time you swore to have seen a shadow vanish in the corner of your room. Odd? Indeed. Impossible? Not quite. Buzzfeed? Unsolved. However, the fact that the cat you had seen settling down near your flat was actually a human—a hybrid, as he had stated—was certainly a bit too much.

index • next

Word count: 6k

Warnings: well if you’re not into hybrid smut (although i can grant you that all genitals and erotic zones addressed in this story are 100% human) then you probably shouldn’t read this. Anyways, this is a mess, i don’t even know what is this supposed to mean. Ended up being kinkier than i expected. Don’t look too deeply into it. Please. My therapist will be really disappointed if she ever finds out.

Also: some doctor who-shaming. Sorry, i hate cheesy sci-fi.

# cat hybrid!jimin, dom!reader, animal rut as a poor excuse to indulge in my kinks, dry humping, overstimulation, masturbation, nipple play, lactation kink, praise kink, Jimin really hasn’t grasped the concept of ‘non-pregnant women’s breasts don’t produce milk’, impregnation kink, vaginal sex, ‘mommy’ and ‘kitten’ as part of my big fat kink, of course.

After all those years, you were decided to put your life together and stop being a nuisance for society. No more partying until the next afternoon, no more sleeping around and not stepping on your apartment for days. You’d become the best, most responsible version of yourself from now on.

Why, people might ask you? Well, the reason was a pretty ball of blonde fluffy fur you had bumped into a few days ago.

You two had first met the day you caught him sneaking through the window into your kitchen, having probably smelled your delicious food from the street. As everyone in the neighbourhood knew, the colony cats used to gather at the end of the backstreet to share the food they found, so you assumed that was the reason why the cute kitten had shown up in your kitchen.

You fed him some turkey and fresh water, and he ate and drank plenty. The little cat didn’t look too dirty, nor too famished. It’d probably been abandoned by its owner not so long ago, and the thought made your heart ache.

“Do you mind if I pet you, kitten?” The cat meowed, looking at you with its big, black eyes, and rubbed its head against your hand. “Oh! You’re a smart little guy, aren’t you?”

However, the cat ran away shortly after, and you rushed to dress up for work, the hangover from last day still lingering.

The next time you saw it, it was raining cats and dogs, no pun intended, so you invited it in, towelled it dry, and fed it the leftovers of your dinner. It was dark and cold outside, so you also pitied it and allowed him to sleep with you on your bed. Its purring sang you to sleep.

By the time you woke up, the kitten had already disappeared from your embrace, so you got out of the bed to look for it, worrying about whether it had been caught by one of your neighbours’ evil kids to torture it. Kids nowadays were merciless, or at least so were the ones you had met around the block. Besides, your maternal instinct was less than alive.

“Kitten?” you called, leaning out of the bedroom door.

You heard a mellow meowing from the kitchen and saw it sticking out his tongue as it drank the running tap water, too engrossed in it to bother to look at you.

“Kitten! How did you turn it on?”

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I think i’ve never read a sub joon fic. Recommend me any good ones please 🥹