#hi this is the first fic ive written in years

[dollyyun]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍'𝒔 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔' 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚 | part two (jake sim)

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim has got to be more bearable compared to the others. Unlike the rest of his frat members, Jake is friendlier, making him an approachable figure. You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year, but Jake found you wandering like a lost puppy and was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go. Even after three years, his kindness is engraved in your mind. So, when Jake approaches you, you have little reason to suspect that he has an ill-intention towards you, especially when you have completely fallen for his trap. How can you not? With that charming grin on his handsome countenance and how he makes you comfortable enough to be yourself around him. It’s so easy to be with Jake. Little do you know that he is every bit corruptive like the rest of the knights.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader, jake x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WARNINGS: fem!reader is a saint(good girl), reader has thick thighs, mentions of christianity, mentions of smoking, virgin & subtle fat shaming, mild bullying, sexual assault, humiliation, profanities, stalker & pervert jake, obsession, corruption, violence, yandere, blood, murder, masturbation, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex (no!), softdom!jake (he may be rough at times), ghostface!jake, knife play, grinding, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, thighs slapping (jake is obsessed with your thighs), manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of mental illness, toxicity, jake becomes an asshole somewhere in the end, slight angst, crying, heartbreak.

WORD COUNT: 28.3k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, zerobaseone, le sserafim, ive, aespa.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.

PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7

PLAYLIST: Often - The Weeknd, Under the Influence - Chris Brown, Meddle About - Chase Atlantic, Church - Chase Atlantic, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Lost in the Fire - Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd, Sinners - Ari Abdul, Cold - Maroon 5.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin  @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz

RUBY'S NOTE: honestly, idk what to feel about this (as always i don't feel satisfied with my writing no matter what lmao), especially the wackass smuts, so please lower your expectations. happy reading!

🖤 SERIES MASTERLIST 🖤

The smirk tugging at the corner of his plump pink lips adorns his appealing visage as well as his dark gaze, which is beguiling for anyone to heed his command at a single glance without hesitation and enthrals the sisters who are sauntering in his vicinity.

He initiates an enticing wink at the two of them, whose cheeks are emblazoned with pink as they release giggles before one of them composes herself quickly and grabs the other sister with her to walk in haste, leaving him smug at the fact that he still has an effect on ladies. Not even the holy sisters can escape from his allure. This has already been proven in the past, where he seduced two holy sisters and managed to score points when he fucked them on this very sacred ground.

Of course, they were caught engaging in illicit activity by the higher authorities of the church, resulting in the two holy sisters' dismissal from their duties and the church. But did this affect him? Not in the slightest, considering he is the son of both a diplomat and a congregant of this very church. Just like his three best friends, he can get away with anything without having to face any repercussions.

Even if his actions do earn disapproval from others, no one dares meddle in any affairs pertaining to Jake Sim.

His eyes dart around the interior of the divine building, his lips curling into a sneer. Oh, how he hates the church. Just like the rest of his family members, he is a Christian as well, and unlike them, he hates being one.

But once upon a time, he loved and used to take pride in his religion. Whenever his mother, who was a regular member of the church and still is, wanted to go to church, he would tag along with her keenly. He knew and memorised every verse of the Bible and hymns to the heart.

As a matter of fact, he used to be a good and obedient son who often steered clear of trouble or anything that might displease his parents. He even earned the moniker ‘church boy’ given by his peers, and he took pride in it. He can’t deny the fact that he sees you in him, as he was the exact person you are.

However, it all crumbled when he and his family flew over to Australia on that long summer break when he was thirteen. Maybe it was because he affiliated himself with the wrong company behind his parents’ backs, or maybe it was because he had witnessed his father’s first infidelity, in which his father was fucking some woman who eventually turned out to be his own secretary. What made it worse was the fact that it happened in a church.

Jake knew that his father had committed a sin, and naturally, Jake expected his father to make a confession and ask for forgiveness, but he didn’t expect that his father would continue to commit the same sin over and over.

From then on, Jake didn’t see his father like he used to. His hatred for his father runs so deep that the sight of his face simply enrages him. He hates it even more because his father is a pathological liar and remains a cheater without his mother knowing about his infidelity. His father’s infidelity plays a major part in the reason why he doesn’t have faith in religion anymore. 

A sigh leaves him. Just as boredom nearly strikes Jake, his eyes catch the movement of two figures from afar before they zero in on the familiar face who has ignited a newfound desire within him since last night. Dark interest gleams in his eyes as he scans your overall fit. 

Jake can’t deny that there is a tinge of disappointment in him when he sees that your curves cannot be discerned due to the thickness of your black coat that hugs your body as well as your wide black pants. He recalls how you looked truly exquisite in that skimpy skimpy dress that accentuated contours impeccably, and how he got hard for you twice in one night.

Truth be told, Jake doesn’t mind the slightest when a girl chooses to dress modestly or how a girl chooses to dress in general. What matters to him is that he can get them to strip off their clothes and bare naked for him before he gives them the best fucks of their lives. Even if the girl is either too thick or too thin, it doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can dick it into their holes. 

His eyes trail down to your clothed chest as he tucks the bottom of his lips between his teeth. The sight of your lustrous cleavage flashes in his mind vividly, and he can already imagine how plump your breasts are. His cock starts to harden as he fantasises about leaving his marks on your porcelain skin all over your chest while his hands grope and feel the suppleness of your breasts.

Jake shakes his head lightly at the thought and attempts to ignore his hardness before returning his gaze to your face, where there is a smile on your lips while your cheeks are deepened with dimples as you are conversing with the priest.

Jake finds himself lifting a subtle smile from his lips upon seeing your smile. Throughout the university years he has known you, he has always found you adorable. Pretty? Maybe, but you were definitely adorable. Which was also the reason why he didn’t find you enticing. Plus, you often steered clear of any signs of trouble, so he also found you dull.

Jake usually targets women who can most likely match his vigour both in and out of the bedroom, women who are adventurous and perpetually up for a challenge, and who are intrinsically spontaneous and carefree. Those are his kind of women, and they are the ones who are capable of turning him on. 

You are most definitely not his type of woman. Unlike those women who have associated with him in the past, you are not anything like them. You are known as Crestview Meadow’s good girl, the epitome of a perfect student whose GPA is worthy of being envious of, and the kind of student that every professor prefers to teach.

Above all, you are the embodiment of purity ─ not just in the way you carry yourself with grace and dignity everywhere you go, but because there is an ambience you exude that anyone can immediately discern the rarity of goodness within you.

But the fact that you’re good makes you dull and boring, especially when you are constantly surrounded by those friends of yours who are the renowned it girls of the university. It is absurd to him that your friends seem to be protecting you from anyone outside of their inner circle and any cruelty, almost as if they are infantilizing you.

No matter. He will get what he wants, even if he has to ruin what you have with your friends. A smirk tugs at his lips as he proceeds to saunter towards you with his hands tucked in his pocket pants. If only you knew how hypocritical your so-called friends were.

The smirk on his lips drops when he sees the priest touch your shoulder, and his lips deepen into a frown at the close proximity between the two of you. A muscle pulses in his jaw while his footsteps hasten, wanting nothing more than to rip his hand away from your shoulder.

The idea of any man touching you ignites a newfound sensation in him, and he has never felt this way towards any woman ─ those same women whom he had slept with. He recalls vividly when he saw Namgil hovering over you with his hands all over you on Devil's Night, and that was when he saw red in his vision. No one gets to touch you unless it's him.

The sound of his footsteps disrupts the conversation you have been engaging with the priest, prompting you to cease, and your head turns to look at him with widening eyes, but Jake remains his gaze on the priest, and a cold smile touches his lips.

“Father, it’s been more than awhile.” Jake greets, the coldness emanating from him is discernible to you. His eyes dart at the priest’s hand that remains on your shoulder, and the familiar whisper of the devil is encouraging him to break his hand for daring to touch what is his.

“Jake, what a pleasant surprise!” The priest, however, is oblivious to the malicious intent glinting in Jake’s eyes. “How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He hasn’t even been checking on his mother, not that she cares enough or whatsoever.

Jake shifts his gaze to you, who is staring at him with indecipherable sentiment glinting in your pretty eyes that nearly mesmerised him. He offers you a smile. “Y/N. I didn’t know you were a regular member of this church.”

Another lie. He knows everything about you, including that you used to visit this church whenever you had free time. He knows that you used to attend church in your neighbouring area regularly, and he knows that you live in a relatively small two-story house, which is rather homey compared to his family’s mansion. He knows your birth date, your favourite colour, and basically any sort of information he wants to find out about you. It took him a span of weeks, and that includes quasi-stalking you even now.

Jake admits that he has grown obsessed with you despite the fact that you are not his ideal type, even before Devil's Night, and there are moments where he fantasises about you even when he doesn't want to.

Jake is curious about you, and his curiosity was sparked long before Devil’s Night. He wants to learn and explore you ─ what makes you different from the others and why there is goodness in you—because he doesn’t believe that there is goodness in this corrupted world. So, he began the process of obtaining information from certain individuals and observing you keenly from afar. He was seamless at it, to the point where you didn’t even realise how often his eyes were on you.

Above all, Jake wants to experiment on you with the intention of dimming that light inside of you, wanting to intoxicate you in a way you won’t even see it coming.

His eyes briefly flicker down at the familiar ring on your forefinger that glimmers under the artificial lights above the ceiling. He knows that it’s not his for the taking, even though he will be the first to take you to his bed soon. 

His gaze returns to yours, and he watches as you blink your eyes, looking a tad surprised, as though you had expected him to disregard your existence. “I’m not. I visit whenever I’m available.” You tell him with an awkward smile gracing your pink lips. “Are you one as well?”

Your soft voice as well as your politeness are something he has always admired, and kindness is one of your qualities that has always remained constant even when others treat you unkindly.

Before he can answer, the priest beats him to it, “Jake is my good friend’s son, but I always refer to him as my nephew, as I knew him when he was young.” The priest gives Jake a warm smile.

A flicker of surprise passes by in your eyes. “Oh, I see. What a small world.” You say, smiling softly and darting your eyes back to Jake. “I’ll get going first. See you around on campus, Jake.”

“Of course.” Jake reciprocates your smile, to which your eyes flicker briefly at his lips that don’t go unnoticed by him, before you proceed to walk away while clutching the strap of your sling purse. 

A frown touches his lips when he notices how you limp as you advance forward, even though you look like you're trying your best not to give away the fact that you're limping.

Jake remains rooted to the ground, his eyes watching your figure get further until you disappear from his sight. 

“What did she come here for?” Jake inquires with the priest. There are no traces of warmth in his tone, while something dark shadows his features.

The priest flattens his lips before sighing. “You know that I can’t disclose any information─”

“Need I remind you that the reason this church remains standing is because of the funds my mother made?” Jake reminds him calmly, and yet his tone sounds sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “I can easily withdraw those funds, and my mother wouldn’t bat an eye.”

The priest knows well that Jake has the power to do so, and so the elder acquiesces. “She came here to confess her sins.”

Jake raises a single eyebrow at him. “And what were her sins?”

Reluctance resides in the priest as well as the guilt that feels heavy in his heart, but he doesn’t wield enough power to defend himself against the affluent son of his good friend. “I think you have an inkling, son. Surely, you must’ve known she was there during Devil’s Night.”

“Maybe I do.” Jake unfurls a smirk at the priest before patting his shoulder. “Thank you for your service, Father.” The mockery Jake elicits doesn’t go unnoticed by the priest, but the elder smiles weakly in return.

 ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Your phone buzzes as it vibrates on the table for the ninth time, and you don’t bother to spare a glance at your phone screen, knowing that it is either Yunjin, Wonyoung, or Karina. You haven’t been meeting them eye-to-eye since two days ago, and even if they asked you questions, you only gave them vague answers in a curt tone before fleeing your dorm in haste.

After what happened, you started seeing them in a different light. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable around them, and specifically, Yunjin. Although it has been three days since Devil’s Night, the overall events that transpired remain vivid in your mind, unable to erase them.

As for Kazuha, Winter, and the others, you remain amiable with them as usual, but you keep a safe distance between yourself and them, and even they notice your eccentric behaviour that differs from how you usually are. You need some time to collect your thoughts and deal with this internal conflict within yourself.

You did feel better and lighter, though, after confessing your sins to Father. You have been pardoned, and that’s what matters most. You don’t intend to revert to how you acted on Devil’s Night.

Speaking of Devil’s Night, despite the fact that it is over, Halloween isn’t. Hence, there are Halloween ornaments embellished on every part of the campus building. You got to give credit to the knight members, who were in charge of the decorations. Their budget seemed to be higher than last year’s, as evident from the overall decorations, and there are even knight members in spooky costumes strolling out and about while scaring off the students, eliciting screams from them.

Nevertheless, amidst the sombre atmosphere, the merriment, jovial laughter, and chatter from the students are palpable. It is abundantly clear that they genuinely enjoy Halloween, and that bothers you greatly because they don’t seem the slightest mournful over the deaths of twenty-two students ─ three students whom you recognise from your department.

You didn’t exactly know them in the way you know your friends, but still, you are sorrowful over their deaths. How cruel was it to be hunted and killed by those delinquents when they didn’t commit any wrongdoing? What did they do to deserve to die? Or was it all just pure entertainment for those notorious delinquents?

A shrill scream as well as laughter erupting from the other side, across from where you are seated, prompts you to look at the commotion briefly before returning to minding your own business with an eye roll. Just another bunch of students feigning feeling terrified of the knight members scaring them.

Your face twists into a grimace. There is definitely something fundamentally wrong with everyone here, you think. 

Presently, you are in the students’ lounging area that is situated between the two different buildings that belong to the students under the social science and science technological engineering departments. Usually, you would resort to the campus library to do your assignments or some reading, but today you felt compelled to do your work here for some reason, even though you dislike the boisterous commotion that often happens in the lounging area.

The commotion in the background eventually fades out. You continue to type away on your keyboard while your gaze remains on your laptop screen, getting immersed in finishing the final assignment that you have neglected since last week. The submission deadline is by the end of today, but the assignment is a piece of cake for you.

The tension in your shoulders relaxes as soon as you save the document to your file before opening a webpage on your Google Chrome with the intention of submitting your assignment to the school’s portal under your department.

As soon as you click submit, you jolt in your seat, and a shriek of terror emits from you when two students in ghostface masks emerge at your side, frightening you with sonorous ‘boos!’ while holding serrated knives in their gloved hands.

Another thing about this university that you deem absurd is the fact that they allow authentic weapons to be in students’ possessions for this period of Halloween, for as long as there are no casualties.

Your shriek draws the attention of students in your vicinity, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment. The unknown ghostfaces erupt into jeering laughter, clearly finding pure delight in frightening you greatly.

You glare at them in disbelief while you attempt to soothe your heart that is beating erratically against your chest, and for once, you want to lash out at them for their inane prank, but as they proceed to remove their ghostface masks, you smack your lips together shut, knowing better than to rebuke the knight members.

You recognise them. Matthew and Gyuvin from the social science department. Even though they’re your juniors by a year, they don’t really respect their seniors, let alone you. Besides, you’re deemed an easy target for most, and now that you’re alone without any of your friends by your side, it makes things easier for anyone to approach you with ill-intention.

“Did you see the horror on her face?” Matthew cackles, slapping Gyuvin’s shoulder. “That was comical!”

Gyuvin chuckles as he wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “We should definitely scare her often.”

“That wasn’t funny.” You utter those words before you can even stop yourself. Your remark seems to capture their attention, and for some reason, you gain a newfound confidence in resolution. “In fact, scaring others for your own enjoyment is simply inconsiderate and lazy.”

“Lazy?” Gyuvin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He gives his fellow member a look. “Can you believe her?”

“Yes. Lazy.” You reiterate, glaring at them, but your voice remains soft all the while. “Also, you could’ve injured a student with how careless you were holding your knives─”

“What do you even know about pranks?” Matthew takes a threatening step towards you, resulting in you recoiling in prudence upon noticing the menace he exudes, as evident on his mien. “You know nothing about pranks. All you know is being a goody-two shoes and kissing professors’ asses.”

You hold back an offended gasp, but the distaste you have for them is evident in your eyes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by them. “And you wonder why everyone hates you. You might have a pretty face, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you are a fucking loser who doesn’t know how to have fun.” You refuse to allow Gyuvin’s demeaning words to get to you.

“Plus, she’s probably still a virgin.” Matthew cackles, high-fiving Gyuvin, while you wallow in humiliation. “That explains why she’s insufferable. No one wants to fuck a virgin, let alone a Catholic girl like her.”

Their remarks appear to have attracted the attention of the students in your vicinity, and just as you expected, chuckles and degradation emanate from them directed at you.

Despite their cruelty demoralising your high spirit while your cheeks flush in humiliation, you feel a newfound resentment towards them, with your hand forming into a fist at your side. There is no denying that you are indeed a virgin, but you feel proud of being one.

Besides, your mother used to emphasise how crucial it is for you to safeguard and embrace your chastity. Heeding your mother’s words, you cherish and protect your virginity for the one who is destined to be your soulmate. Hence, you were given a silver ring that latches around your forefinger on your seventeenth birthday, and the ring symbolises purity.

Of course, you took pride in it, subtly flaunting your purity ring everywhere you go, but now that their demeaning words have finally gotten to you, you can’t help wondering if being a virgin plays a major part in why no guys have approached you with the intention of getting you in their bed and additionally makes you unlikeable.

You lower your head, completely disheartened, and you want nothing more than to disappear from their sight while their jeering laughter continues to taunt you.

“Ah!”

A loud thud causes you to jolt in surprise with your head now raised, and the sight of Matthew’s face being side-planted on the surface of the table shocks you before your eyes trail to the person who has him pinned on the table with one hand on his back and the other on the table at the side of his head, locked by his strong grips.

The person you definitely don't expect to see. Jake Sim. 

You know that Jake would be strolling out and about around here since he is a computer science major, and you always come across his path. Most of the time, he would give you a brief smile before resuming to talk with his friends or even flirt with girls in the hallway.

By now, the students in your vicinity have quietened by his arrival . Jake’s presence alone is domineering enough to silence them.

“So this was what the two of you have been doing instead of resuming your respective duties.” Jake states calmly, but you are not oblivious to the way his jaw clenches while his deadly grips on Matthew elicit a yelp from the latter. “You were meant to bring fright upon your peers and not humiliate them, but here you are, lazing around.”

“We were! Really!” Gyuvin asserts, and you notice how apparent the nervousness is in his voice.

“H-He’s right!” Matthew stammers out as he makes an attempt to struggle in Jake’s grasps.

“First, you insulted and humiliated a lady. Now, you have the audacity to lie to my face?” Jake’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, and the corner of his lips curves into a smirk that sends you shivers down your spine upon seeing how pissed-off he is, but you can’t deny that he looks oddly attractive. 

“As your house leader, I expected better from both of you.” Jake continues to speak calmly, but all the while, he has yet to release Matthew. You flinch lightly when Jake’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks at his knight's members. “Apologise to her.”

“S-Sorry.” Matthew manages to utter, but even you can discern the insincerity in his tone.

With ease, Jake raises him just slightly before slamming him down on the surface of the table once more, eliciting a painful yelp from the latter. “Sorry who?” Jake nearly growls out his words, sending you another shiver.

In all honesty, you could care less about getting an apology from these jerks, but seeing Jake in this light genuinely shocks you. More importantly, why is he defending you in your honour?

“I’m sorry, Y/N! I won’t insult you again!” Matthew rambles out, the fear for his house leader is more than apparent, which brings a pleased smirk from the latter.

“Yes, we’re so sorry!” Gyuvin even bows to you, clutching his ghostface mask.

“The next time I catch you insulting and humiliating any lady, I won’t let it pass so easily.” Jake says sternly before finally releasing Matthew, who wastes no time retrieving his ghostface mask and his knife from the table, fleeing your table with Gyuvin.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake’s sharp tone causes the students in your vicinity to look away from your table as they resort to minding their own business. 

When Jake’s gaze finally lands on your face, you catch the way his eyes soften and the scowl on his lips flatten. “I’m sorry about them. Are you okay?”

You blink your eyes, clearly taken aback by his duality. You ignore how your heart flutters just slightly at his soft voice as well as his gentle demeanour.

“I’m fine, Jake.” You tell him, your voice wavering subtly as you muster a small smile at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I had to.” Jake says, looking offended as though he were the one who had been humiliated instead of you. “I taught them better than to insult and humiliate a lady. Such conduct is unacceptable to the House of North.”

You can’t help but acquiesce and give him a smile that shoots a cupid arrow to his tainted heart, especially your dimples that he wants to poke his finger in. “Thank you.”

A smile is adorned on his face, and you hold back an endearing chuckle at how sheepish he looks, almost resembling a golden retriever puppy. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As the two of you continue to gaze at each other with sheepish smiles, familiar voices belonging to your best friends echo in the walls of your mind, reminding you of their warning to steer clear of the knights, specifically their leaders. But you ignore those warnings inside your head.

Sure, you have no intention to attract the attention of the other leaders, but this is Jake ─ the guy whose kindness has long since been embedded in your mind. You find it hard to dislike him, even though you are aware of his reputation on campus as a womaniser.

You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year three years ago, trying to find your way to the auditorium. That was when Jake found you wandering around like a lost puppy, and he was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go without hesitation and even engage in a short, pleasant conversation with you.

Yeah, the Jake you danced intimately with on Devil’s Night should have given you a reason to stay away from him, but you don’t have the heart to do that, especially when he had just defended you in your honour. Plus, to you at least, Jake is undoubtedly amiable, making him an approachable figure unlike the rest of his fraternity members.

Hence, you have decided to lower your guards around him, but then comes the awkwardness after the realisation that you have been gazing at him with a stupid smile on your face.

You break eye contact with him and scratch the back of your head awkwardly. “So, I guess I better get going─”

“Listen, I’ve been wanting to apologise to you.” Jake cuts you off, inviting himself to settle down across from you.

Confused, you stare at him with a single eyebrow arched. “Why are you apologising?”

Jake rubs his nape sheepishly. “For touching and kissing you without consent when we were dancing last Friday night.”

Just like that, a specific memory runs through your mind, and you recall the sensation of his touch that left you wanting more of him.

“It’s okay. I understand that we were tipsy and in the heat of the moment.” You tell him reassuringly, giving him a small smile. “I should be apologising as well for my improper behaviour.” 

Jake holds back a chuckle. Oh, how wrong you were. He was not the slightest tipsy, but he can’t let you know that.

“How was your first ever Devil’s Night?” He asks, striking up a conversation with you and hoping that it will continue on.

Truthfully, your voice sounds pleasant to hear. You’re soft-spoken, complementing your disposition, and whenever you converse with anyone who reciprocates your kindness and the ones who obviously like you, you try your best to maintain appropriate eye contact while listening attentively to them and giving your opinions or remarks if needed. That makes them want to continue speaking to you, and that’s what Jake feels about you. He can listen to you talking for hours, and he wouldn’t get sick of it.

On the other hand, you feel hesitant about whether or not you should answer his question with full honesty because, firstly, he’s one of the leaders, and he was obviously in charge of Devil’s Night. Secondly, you don’t want to offend him by letting him know that it was the worst night you ever had, and you never want to relive that night ever again.

But being a people-pleaser, you resort to giving him white lies as your lips curve into a small smile. “I had the time of my life. You guys were amazing and really outdid yourselves. I can definitely understand the hype behind Devil’s Night from most of the students here.”

You hope that Jake won’t detect your lies, but all the while, your stomach twists with something unpleasant as you speak those words. You even held yourself back from telling him that his fraternity and the rest of the students were downright mental for enjoying Devil’s Night.

Thankfully, Jake seems to believe your white lies and gives you a charming grin that sends another flutter to your beating heart. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

Little did you know that Jake knew you meant the opposite of what you said. After all, he had seen the genuine horror on your face and your vulnerability firsthand, considering he and his comrades were hunting you down.

As his eyes rake over your delicate features, he grins cunningly in the back of his mind. Oh, how he desires to see your pretty eyes glistening and tears streaming down your smooth cheeks as he inflicts horror upon you, resulting in you running away from him while he chases after you.

"So, what’s your favourite horror movie?” The interest gleaming in his brown eyes is one of the reasons why you want to continue the conversation with him, aside from the fact that he is practically staring at you like a puppy wanting a treat.

“I’m not a fan of horror movies, but I guess the Scream movie?” You answer unsurely, shrugging your shoulders. “My friends forced me to watch with them since they’re big fans.”

This time, Jake’s interest grows tenfold. He leans his body slightly forward while his lips are curved into a grin. “But did you like them?”

“Kind of?” You answer, and you feel warmth weaving across your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze on your face. Feeling conscious, your fingers make their ascent to the silver cross pendant resting delicately on your chest to fiddle with it. “I mean, the movie was definitely interesting, and I liked the plot, but surprisingly, I wasn’t scared. If anything, I felt grossed out by the amount of bloodshed.”

The way you scrunch your nose is so endearing to him that he itches to lean forward to peck the tip of your nose, but of course, he can only afford to fantasise as always.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush delicately in pink as awareness slaps you at how much of a yapper you suddenly become. “I must be rambling by now. You probably wouldn’t want to hear me talk so much.”

“Actually, I do.” A tinge of softness is in his eyes, as is the soft smile unfurling on his plump pink lips. “Has anyone ever told you how pleasant you sound?”

“No.” You answer, your face contorting into confusion, to which he finds you adorable, especially when you tilt your head slightly to one side. 

“Then let me be the first one to tell you. You sound really pleasant to hear.” His smile shoots cupid arrows into your heart. “I like listening to you talk, and if you could talk all day, I would be there by your side to listen to you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.” You murmur, your eyes zeroing on his pretty lips, and you swear they look and feel soft. The very same lips touched your skin last Friday night.

“No, I’m not. I meant what I said.” His countenance shifts into something serious, almost knocking the breath out of you upon the dark glint in his eye. “If anyone says otherwise, then their hearing must be impaired.”

“Jake!” A familiar voice calls for Jake, which you recognise. You look at the side, spotting Sunghoon and Riki from across the building as they wave at Jake, beckoning him to come over.

You turn your head to face him. “Your friends are calling for you─”

Your breath hitches in your throat when he grabs your hand and holds it tenderly. Your heart flutters as you watch him raise your hand to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckles. The sensation of his soft, plump lips still lingers on your skin, even when he withdraws.

His thumb caresses the back of your hand, sending you tingles, while his brown eyes captivate you in a way that is impossible for you to look away from. “Before I go, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask in a murmur, getting lost in the depths of his eyes, which are swimming with sentiments you can’t decipher.

“If anyone messes with you, even the slightest, let me know, alright?”

A look of confusion furrows your brows. “But─”

“Promise me, love.” He cuts you off sternly, but the tinge of softness remains in his tone that compels you to nod your head, earning a small smile from him. “Good. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?” His low husk at the end sends a foreign sensation through you.

“Okay, Jaeyun.” You say softly without realising that you don’t mean to accidentally call him by his Korean name.

His eyebrow arches attractively at his Korean name, which feels heavenly from your mouth, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he shoots you a smirk, sending one last flutter to your heart.

He rises from his seat and proceeds to leave the table, but not before winking at you. “Goodbye for now, sweet angel.” His smirk remains on his canvas before he turns around and saunters towards his friends.

Sweet angel.

Those two words instantly remind you of the masked men on Devil’s Night, and you begin to wonder if Jake was one of your predators on that night.

“No, he couldn’t be.” You mutter to yourself as you slowly close your laptop.

There is no way Jake could be any of those four masked men that preyed on you. The same charming Jake, whose duality never fails to impress you, simply couldn’t be any of them. Sure, he’s one of their leaders, but there is absolutely no way he was capable of being one of Kim Namgil’s murderers.

As you pack your belongings into your bag, you fail to notice the wicked glint in his heavenly brown-hued eyes earlier.

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Your last class ended at six, but instead of heading straight back to your dorm, you went to the cafe down the street nearby the campus to do some reading and studying for your finals while indulging your cravings for the delectable pastries.

You didn’t want to head back to your dorm since you weren’t ready to face your best friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with them, especially after reading all of their texts in which they spammed you relentlessly and even tried calling you. You have a feeling that you’ll be barraged with questions demanding explanations for your abrupt detachment.

A part of you feels guilty for it, knowing that your best friends have always been there for you, even when the rest of their peers often question why they befriended someone who has no status, rank, or abundance of wealth like them.

A sigh leaves your lips as you shake your head lightly before pushing open the door, making your exit out of the cafe establishment. You glance down at your phone screen and notice that the time has struck eight p.m. You should be heading back now, but instead, you decide to take a nightly stroll to clear the remnants of the fog in your head.

The nightly breeze is in your hair with each step you take, ambling on the pavement while your surroundings are in a blur as you go into unfocused mode. Just then, your mind drifts off to Jake Sim.

The moment his face and his charming grin appear in your head, a soft smile unfurls on your pink lips. There is no denying that you do find him attractive and sometimes cute, but truth be told, his kindness was what made you have a crush on him three years ago.

Yes, you had a crush on him, but it only lasted for a while when you found out he was a womaniser. You recall the jealousy brimming in your veins whenever you saw him with different girls clinging to his arm every week. You knew that he wouldn’t bat an eye at you, especially after all the unpleasant words that were spoken about you and circulated on campus.

Most of the students dislike you not because you’re a good girl but because of your status rank and the fact that you do not hail from an affluent background. 

Approximately 96% of the students in Crestview Meadow’s hail from affluent families and are literally Chaebols who wield authority and power the same way as their parents’ do.

Crestview Meadows students are extremely privileged. Not only does the university provide a top-tier higher learning institution compared to any other universities across Sokor, but they also truly accommodate the students’ wants and needs.

For instance, there are massive, tall, and wide apartment complexes that are designed exclusively for students whose homes are far from the campus, also known as the dormitory. It is within a five-minute walk from the enormous, upscale campus. Undoubtedly, the cost of paying for the rent is higher and greater than that of a condominium, especially when there are amenities for the students.

Obviously, money is never an issue for most of the students enrolling at this university, considering the unfathomable wealth they wield. Some do take their wealth and high statuses for granted, but you, on the other hand, feel extremely grateful for not getting yourself into a heavy debt as you have earned numerous scholarships and the university recognises your effort in terms of academics. 

Hence, it is one of the reasons why you are driven and motivated to work hard and maintain your perfect GPA of 4.0.

The commotion of manly laughter shatters your moment of solitude, prompting you to look to the side just for your eyes to widen at the sight of a bunch of familiar faces. Your eyes briefly glance at the establishment before you finally notice that they have emerged from a bar.

You stand frozen, as though seeing them paralyses your whole being. Your eyes instantly meet Sunghoon’s, whose smile transitions to a sneer while a familiar sentiment glints in his eyes. Hatred.

“Y/N, hey!” Sunoo’s voice pulls you away from staring into Sunghoon’s dark eyes any longer. You are taken aback by the blond-haired male’s friendliness as he approaches you with a gleeful grin. You refuse to believe that this is the same guy who was part of Devil’s Night.

“What brings you here?” Sunoo asks, speaking to you in a way that makes you feel as though he is an old friend of yours. “Wait. Don’t tell me that you’re here to have a drink.” Sunoo feigned a shocked gasp. “What happened to the good girl Y/N we know and love?”

You can only afford to chuckle awkwardly, unsure of how to act, and all the while, their gazes on you render you conscious of the way you look.

A barrage of questions are on your mind, wondering if you look okay or ridiculous.

Your fashion sense has always been praised by your girls, and it also elevates your confidence. Your wardrobe mostly consists of either beige, white, black, or pink clothing. Some days you wear skirts that reach above your knees, while other days you wear pants. 

Today, you decided to wear a flared beige skirt and a white tee that is tucked in with a short beige jacket complementing your overall fit, as well as white thigh-high socks that conceal your skin. Your friends have made comments about your thigh-high socks being unnecessary since they want you to flaunt your smooth skin, but of course you refused.

Now, you can’t help but wonder what they think of you as they stare at you. Do they also think that you’re a ridiculous Catholic girl the way the others do?

“You’re scaring her, Sunoo.” Jungwon chides, shoving his shoulder against Sunoo’s. 

When your eyes meet Jungwon’s feline-like eyes, you are reminded of the night when he captured Wonyoung and his warning directed at you. You have an inkling that the hickeys on Wonyoung’s neck were his marks.

“Come on, we’re wasting time here.” Sunghoon grumbles as he walks past you, and you swear you can feel the coldness emanating from his body.

Riki disregards your existence as he heads for his bike, which is parked by the curb alongside the others’. Jungwon sends you a wink while Sunoo casts you another gleeful smile before they proceed on towards their bikes.

You manage to catch Heeseung’s fleeting gaze on your face, and when you turn your head fully to look at him, he is swift to avoid your gaze and advances towards his bike with a cool demeanour.

“Hey, angel.” Jay takes you by surprise by standing close to you, almost knocking the breath out of you with the combo of his strong cologne and cigarette smell emanating from him. As you glance up to meet his dark, lustrous gaze, he gives you his signature smirk that makes anyone fall for him.

“Missed me?” Jay asks you in a seductive lull as he raises his hand to brush the fallen strands from your face, but you back away from him immediately. “Come on, baby. You weren’t like this last Friday night when you danced with me.” He remarks with mockery that you narrow your eyes at.

Just as you are about to speak, Heeseung’s voice interrupts you, and for once, you are thankful to him. “Let’s go, Jay.”

“Always the one to ruin my fun, Heeseung.” Jay heaves a sigh and makes his way to his bike, but not before casting you another smirk that has a clear intent of suggestiveness. 

You watch as Riki, Sunoo, and Jungwon speed off ahead, followed by Sunghoon and Jay. Heeseung seems to be taking his time, and when his eyes meet yours, an indecipherable sentiment dances in his eyes before he pulls down the dark visor and proceeds to speed off with his engine blaring.

You sense his presence from behind you, and his figure is nearly looming over yours. His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe before he greets you in a soft tone with that husky voice of his. “So we meet again, lovely.”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing how close he is to you, and you swear you can feel his body heat. As you turn around to face him, the smell of smoke fills your nostrils.

“I had no idea you smoked.” You point out politely, your lips pressing thinly. You actually hate the unpleasant smell of smoke.

The smile on Jake’s lips falters upon noticing the expression on your face. “Oh, no, I don’t smoke.” He tells you with the utmost sincerity. “It was theirs, but I swear I don’t smoke.” Even he has no idea why he is affirming with such earnestness.

You nod your head in understanding. Even if he does smoke, it isn’t in any of your business anyway.

“Where were you from?” Jake asks, tilting his head slightly to one side while curiosity sparkles in his eyes.

“I was from the cafe down the street and decided to take a nightly stroll.” You tell him. “What about you? Isn’t it unwise to drink on a school night?”

Jake’s smile curls into a grin as he takes a step forward. “Are you worried for me?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “Yeah, I mean, don’t you have classes tomorrow? Plus, you’re driving.”

“You’re so fucking adorable.” He whispers huskily while your eyes widen in shock at the sudden shift in his demeanour. His eyes meet yours with an indecipherable intensity. “Don’t worry about me, lovely. I drank a little, but I have a high alcohol tolerance.”

“If you say so.” You say before taking a step back. “Just drive safely, okay?”

“Ride with me.” He says so firmly that there is no room for objections.

Your eyes divert to his sleek black bike, and you begin to feel wary. “I don’t know….I’ve never rode a bike before, so I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t be.” Jake grabs your hand without any hesitation and gives it a tender squeeze while his soft, brown eyes are pulling you into him. “As long as you hold on tight to me, you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Jake─”

“I need you to trust me, love.” Jake cuts you off firmly, but his grasp on you remains tender. “Trust me, yeah?” He whispers, and you can’t help but to nod your head.

The next thing you know, he is assisting you with his helmet while you stand in front of him, your eyes staring at his pink plump lips in awe upon the close-up.

“Does it feel too tight?” He asks you, causing you to look into his eyes.

You shake your head, but frown at the realisation. “What about you? It’s dangerous for you to be riding without a helmet.”

“Lovely, you should really stop worrying about me.” He chuckles breathily before guiding you to his bike, which you have trouble mounting due to how high it is.

You become startled when he places both hands on your waist to lift you with ease as you mount his bike. You struggle a little to balance yourself, and when he mounts his bike in front of you with ease, you latch your arms around his waist without any hesitation.

You feel his body visibly tensing before he relaxes and proceeds to switch on the ignition. You ignore the way your breasts are pressed against his back, and you hope he doesn’t mind it. 

“Hold on tight, lovely.” Jake reminds you once more over his shoulder before he takes you by surprise at the abrupt blare of his engine as he drives off.

You close your eyes while tightening your arms around him, your heart beating fast at the speed as the two of you ride against the vindictive wind. He is going at such an insane speed that you swear it is as though he is in a racing competition.

Finally, you dare yourself to flutter your eyes open, and when you do, you no longer feel the trepidation coursing through your veins. Your eyes sparkle with awe as you manage to catch glimpses of the gorgeous city lights. Although you no longer fear riding a bike, your arms remain tight around his waist.

But soon you realise that he is not heading in the direction of your dormitory. “Where are you taking me?” You raise your voice so he can hear you better over the wind.

“Somewhere.” His answer doesn’t satisfy you, yet you choose not to ask any more questions. But the smirk in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Jaeyun from now instead.”

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The familiar sight of the golden gate opening automatically greets your sight before he accelerates forward, while you are rendered gobsmacked by the fact that Jake has brought you to the very place where Devil’s Night commenced.

When your eyes sweep over the magnificent palace, you shudder lightly as the events that transpired on that dreadful night play in your mind like a film. Soon, you find yourself entering a massive garage that is equivalent to the biggest living room in the palace, with different vehicle models arrayed impeccably, leaving you in awe.

“Careful.” Jake murmurs to you as he holds you against him at the moment you dismount, resulting in you nearly stumbling forward due to the imbalance and how your ankle throbs familiarly with subtle pain, but thankfully, it is healing rapidly.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he assists you by removing the helmet from your head and adjusting your tousled hair with a touch of gentleness.

“Thank you.” Your sincerity sends a foreign sensation through him while his eyes meet yours. Soon, a frown touches your lips. “But why exactly did you bring me here?”

“To have fun, of course.” He casts you a grin before beckoning you to follow him, and you do, allowing him to guide you to the door that leads into the palace while you take a brief glance at the garage once more.

“Fun?” You repeat it in incredulity.

His melodious chuckles ring through your head. “Fine. I brought you here because I wanted to hang out with you.” He tells you, and you detect sincerity in his tone. “Plus, I do enjoy your company.”

“If you wanted to hang out with me, you could’ve asked me tomorrow instead.”

“Well, the opportunity was there earlier, so I couldn’t miss it.” He gives you a side glance. “Besides, you looked like you needed something to ease your mind.”

Surprise flickers in your gaze. “I do, actually.”

“Then I’m your man for the night.” His breathy chuckles erupt the butterflies in your tummy. “So, what do you want to do?”

You open your mouth to speak, but an uproar comes from the second floor, prompting you to look up with bewildered eyes. “The others are here?” You ask him, and that is when you finally realise the familiar bikes in the garage earlier that belong to those delinquents.

“Yeah, but don’t mind them.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should join them instead. You don’t need me to keep you company.”

“But I'd rather be with you, lovely.” He murmurs, catching you off guard when he tugs at your wrist, pulling you closer to him with his hand making its ascent to cradle the cusp of your jaw.

Your breath catches in the back of your throat as his eyes zero in on yours, while each stroke from his thumb on your smooth cheek intensifies the butterflies in your tummy.

This time, you dismiss another commotion coming from above as you are busy getting mesmerised by his dark gaze that holds tumultuous sentiments, yet it seems to be luring you in, enticing you to explore the darkness within him.

“What do you want to do?” He asks softly, still not releasing you.

You ignore a small voice that is imploring you to push him away. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to know, lovely.” His lips curve into a smirk before he drops his hand from your cheek, but his fingers remain latched around your wrist as he pulls you with him. “I’m sure you haven’t had the chance to explore the palace, but first, I want to bring you to our private cinema.”

As Jake drags you with him, heading towards the elevator, your eyes widen as you feel astounded at the fact that this palace has its own cinema, and subsequently, you begin to wonder what else is there in this very palace. You definitely won’t be surprised if there are hidden passages somewhere here.

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One thing is certain: you regret agreeing to watch Scream with him.

Your eyes are trained on the large screen, and your face contorts into a grimace when the victim’s blood is oozing from the terrible wound.

A wince leaves your lips while you find yourself instinctively burying your head into his shoulder with your fingers clutching at the hems of his top. You attempt to drown out the noise of the victim’s cries and pleas as well as the eerie sound effect that reverberates throughout the private cinema that is equivalent to the width of that of a public cinema. 

Jake turns his head to glance down at you. A chuckle emits from him as he finds you adorably endearing with how often you have attempted to use him as your shield whenever the gory parts of the movie play on the screen.

“I recall a certain someone telling me in confidence that she wasn’t afraid of watching the movie.” Jake drawls his words out, his lips remaining a smirk as you slowly raise your head to meet his eyes that hold such mischief.

In return, you can only afford to chuckle nervously. You can’t let him know that the reason you’re afraid is because your mind would always drift to the terrible events on Devil’s Night whenever the gory part of the movie came up. Moreover, your skin is crawling with disquietude the longer you’re in this very palace.

Yes, the palace looks magnificent, but you can discern the foreboding atmosphere that sends you involuntary chills every now and then. A part of you is telling you that the moment Jake brought you inside, you ought to be wary and apprehensive of your safety.

“Can we watch something else?” You murmur to him, still clinging to his arm, though not as awkwardly as you did earlier. You remain facing him, but your eyes are crestfallen with your head lowered, allowing the strands of your hair at the side to fall.

“Why? I’m quite enjoying this.” Jake continues to tease you while enjoying the fact that you are clinging to his arm dependently, with your breasts occasionally brushing against his arm.

You surprise yourself when a whine elicits from you and your pink lips form into a small pout as you meet his eyes that seem to be darkening. “Please, Jaeyun?”

His chest rumbles in pleasure at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. “Fine.” He eventually concedes before reaching out for the controller at the side to put the movie on pause. “It turns out you are afraid of horror and thrillers after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his teasing grin, but you cave in as a sigh leaves your lips. “Yes. Now you can have another laugh at it.”

“Nah, I was just messing with you, lovely.” Jake leans forward to ruffle your hair while you are taken aback by the nonexistent space between the two of you. “Everyone has their own fears.”

“So what are your fears?” You inquire to him, feeling rather keen to know him better.

“I don’t have any.” Jake lies through his cheeky grin. “Tell me yours.”

A niggling of prudence tickles the back of your mind as if to warn you about telling him any parts of your vulnerability that he might potentially use against you. 

But as you get lost in the depths of his devastatingly beautiful brown eyes, you feel a certain compulsion to reveal everything about you, including your worries, to him.

“Genres of thriller and gore, insects,” You begin to list down, murmuring as you do so with your head lowered and your cheeks tinted pink at the fact that he has his full attention on you. “losing my loved ones, being a disappointment and failure to anyone I hold dear close to my heart.”

“You? A failure?” Jake grips your chin gently but firmly enough to force your eyes to meet his. “Lovely, you are the epitome of perfection.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, and even if you want to look away from him, you can’t. “I’m not perfect, Jake.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jake leans his face close to yours, causing your breath to hitch, but he stops just close enough until the tips of your noses graze ghostly against each other’s. Your heart flutters at the warmth of his touch from his palm on the side of your thigh, rubbing it tantalisingly slowly. “and wrong name, baby.”

In an instant, he has you hoisted and settles you on top of his lap with your legs straddling his muscular denim-clad thighs while your skirt is hiked up, allowing a teasing peek of your skin. Instinctively, your hands find their way to his shoulders, feeling how toned and broadened they are beneath your touch, which pays off as a result of his consistency in working out.

The cold air in the private cinema shifts drastically. The tension is palpable, and you fear it might snap at any moment in time, especially the way he is gazing at you dangerously with lidded eyes.

You are rendered speechless by the escalation, unable to form any coherent sentences. The heat of his touch on your thighs sends you involuntary shivers down your spine while his dark eyes are penetrating into yours, which are swimming with sentiments you recognise. Danger, desire, and lust.

“You’re so fucking adorable, do you know that?” The low husk in his voice stirs something within you. Your lips go slightly parted at the sensation of his palm rubbing your thigh once more. “Can you do me a favour, lovely?” Although he is asking you, you know that it is a demand.

Your mind is screaming at you to push him away and flee from him, but it is as though his touch and gaze cast a spell on you that renders you compliant.

With the inexplicable haze clouding your better judgement, you nod your head, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I want to see you in fishnet tights. You’ll look good in them.” His eyes rake all over your body until they fall to your plush thighs. He desires to dig his nails into the suppleness of your flesh, but your thigh-high socks are a hindrance.

His demand leaves you flabbergasted, and you continue to remain silent, to which Jake doesn’t seem satisfied.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek, bringing your full attention to his dark gaze. “Can you do that for me?” He asks firmly, applying pressure to the hesitancy you bear in your mind.

“Yes.” You utter your answer while your mind vehemently disagrees with you. A newfound desire kindles in you, and that is to please Jake.

“Good.”

You feel his hand creeping from your thigh to your buttcheek, eliciting an inaudible gasp from you, before he pulls your body closer to his until you feel something hard touching your core. Your heart lurches in your chest while the tension between the two of you feels suffocating. 

“Jaeyun,” You whisper his name as you feel paralysed by the sensation of his hardened dick beneath you, and you fear that one movement from you will unleash the inner devil that lurks beneath his charming facade. 

His strong cologne infiltrates your senses, enticing you to bury your head into his chest and bask in his scent, but with his face leaning closer to yours, you hold yourself back from doing so.

His nose touches yours while his hot breath fans above your lips. By now, his eyes are darkened and shrouded with lustful desire for you, wanting nothing more than to devour you, fucking you into oblivion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, contradictory to how he is holding you possessively with his hand holding and palming your buttcheek while the other is wrapped around your waist.

No, you should definitely say no. Your first kiss is reserved solely for the one who will be marrying you.

“Yes.” Your heart pounds harder in anticipation of your answer.

With your consent, he closes the gap between your lips while you flutter your eyes closed, awaiting the kiss.

Just as you envisioned, his warm lips feel soft and plump as he kisses you sweetly, which has your toes almost curling. He kisses like you are made out of glass, and he takes his time as though he is memorising the shape of your lips in the back of his mind.

But you remain unmoving, uncertain of how to kiss him, and embarrassment floods across your cheeks. When he pulls away, your chest tingles with disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” You find yourself apologising to him, your eyes crestfallen. Disheartened, you slouch your shoulders and avoid his gaze. “I don’t know how to kiss.” You mutter weakly while your fingers curl into fists as they rest on his chest.

“Lovely, look at me.” His soft command compels you to heed, and when you raise your head, your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he pulls you by the nape and slams his lips on yours, and this time, there is a sense of urgency and desperation as he kisses you.

Compared to the previous kiss, this kiss is messy, sloppy even, as you are unable to coordinate with how he is kissing you, but what genuinely confuses you is the fact that he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by how bad you are at kissing. It is as though what matters to him most is the taste of your lips.

Your stomach churns with guilt, yet your core is pooling with newfound desire. Your lips part as you gasp at the sensation of his hardness grinding against yours, and you can almost feel his tip hitting your clothed clit that is aching with forbidden need. You can almost feel how big he is.

Jake grasps the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of your hot cavern while his nails dig into the flesh of your ass. You try your best to keep up with him, your tongue tangling with his wet muscle in a mess, yet it is a mess that elicits a moan from the back of your throat.

You move your hips tentatively, testing waters, but soon you are grinding your hips against his while you attempt to feel the delirious friction of your clit rubbing against his pointed tip. A low groan emits from him at how painful his cock is, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside of you. But he knows that he must wait patiently.

You gasp in pain when he has your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper as he tugs and pulls it teasingly, prompting you to flutter your eyes open and meet his dark, hypnotising ones. The corner of his lip tips up in a smirk before he devours you once more, and this time, he is assisting you with the other hand gripping your waist.

“You’re doing so fucking for me, lovely.” He rasps against your wet, parted lips with soft moans, leaving them. “So, so perfect just for me.” He purrs seductively before kissing you, while his praises send your heart fluttering.

“Jake.” You whimper against his lips in need, and goosebumps arise on your skin when he growls into the kiss. It all happens too fast, because the next thing you know, he has you pinned on the couch while your legs remain wrapped around his waist.

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your neck, eliciting a pleasurable sigh from you, but a pained whimper follows when he bites down your skin in a threatening manner.

“Wrong name, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, his hand squeezing the plush of your thigh almost painfully. “What is my name?”

“Jae─” Your eyes roll to the back of your head while a breathless moan leaves your lips at the sensation of his hardened dick grinding against your pussy. “Jaeyun!”

“That’s fucking right.” He pulls away from you, hovering on top of you with his chain necklace dangling above you. You catch a glimpse of his inked tattoo on his collarbone area. “Do you want more?” He grinds again, deliberately.

“N-No.” You deny, shaking your head, but the moan that rips out from your lips betrays you, as does the way you buck up your hips in an attempt to feel for the delirious friction between your clit and his pointed tip.

Jake tuts as he halts his movement, his hand moving to brush the messy strands covering your cheeks. “It’s a sin to lie, my pretty girl.”

“Jaeyun, please!” You plead, throwing away your dignity.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He chuckles breathily, finding pure delight in the way your eyes are glistening with need. He leans down to place a chaste kiss on your moist lips and remains there before murmuring, “But if you really want more, meet me by the entrance of the palace tomorrow night, and don’t forget to wear your fishnet thighs, yeah?”

No, for God’s sake, you should be saying no.

“Okay.” You breathe out your answer, earning you a grin from him.

You ignore the disappointment in you when he unwraps your legs from his waist and rises from the couch to adjust his denim jacket while you remain motionless, your mind in a muddle. By now, your lips are swollen, and your chest is heaving up and down from the aftermath.

Jake stares down at you with a smirk at the remnants of lust gleaming in those mesmerising eyes of yours before he extends his hand to you, which you gladly accept. As you abruptly stand, your knees nearly buckle underneath you, prompting you to latch your hand onto his bicep for support before you retract your hand from him, as though he is poisonous.

“I’d like to go back to my dorm, please.” You tell him meekly, avoiding his gaze.

You don’t say anything as you allow him to grab your hand and guide you out of the private cinema that is now tainted with traces of your sinful desire for the very delinquent you have been warned to stay away from.

All the while, as he sends you back to your dorm, your clit remains tingling and aching for some relief.

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By the time you’ve reached your dorm, the time has nearly struck midnight. You had expected your roommates to be sound asleep, but when you attempt to be tactful by opening the door as quietly as you can and sneaking to your room with light footsteps in the dark, you are being greatly startled as the lights in the living room abruptly switch on, revealing two of your best friends settled in the living room.

The expressions painted on their canvas are certainly not anywhere near satisfactory, while they seem to mirror each other in the way they remain seated on the couch with their stern gazes on your figure.

“It’s nearly midnight, Y/N Kang.” Wonyoung states the obvious, her voice is so emphatic that it almost makes you cringe, because you hate it whenever she gets upset with you.

You chew your inner cheeks as you look away from their gaze while you tighten the clutch on the strap of your backpack. “Yes, and?” You dare to display your defiance, which rarely happens.

Wonyoung scoffs loudly, her disbelief is more than apparent. She rises from the couch and approaches you slowly, her eyes remaining fierce. “You’ve never come back this late! You didn’t even reply to any of our texts or return our calls!” She exclaims. “Do you even know how worried sick we got? The least you could do is inform us of your whereabouts.”

“You’re not my mother.” You snap at her, and you didn’t even intend to, but there is a newfound sensation bubbling within you that you want to unleash. Sure, Wonyoung and you bicker and even fight for a short period of time before returning to normalcy, but this time is different.

It almost feels as though you are completely fed up by their overprotectiveness and the way they often treat you like a helpless kid who knows nothing about what all stereotypical college students are like, and even more so when they often dictate your life choices.

Wonyoung’s glare deters you just slightly. “First, you’ve been giving us the cold shoulders since Saturday, and now you’re getting all attitude on us? I don’t know what happened to you, but you need to stop acting like a bitch.”

You flinch lightly as her words impact you, causing hurt to be written all over your features. Throughout the years you have known her, Wonyoung has never called you a bitch. Upon seeing the hurt reflecting in your eyes, guilt dawns on Wonyoung, but before she can apologise, you cut her off with a cold yet wavering tone.

“The fact that you still don’t even realise it yet proves that either you don’t care or you simply decided to close both eyes.”

“How are we supposed to realise anything when you don’t even confide in us?!” Wonyoung argues back.

“Hey, what’s with all the yelling?” Karina emerges from her room as she yawns, her hair is tangled while she is in her usual pyjamas, which consist of a black singlet and high shorts.

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you guys anymore!” You raise your voice as you disregard Karina, now in a glaring contest with Wonyoung, while Yunjin’s worry is evident as she stands next to the latter. “After what happened on Devil’s Night, I don’t even know how to look at all of you the same as before.”

Amidst the anger, confusion is visible through Wonyoung’s gaze. “What are you talking about? And why did you bring up Devil’s Night?” 

“Tell us what really happened on Devil’s Night that made you act this way towards us, please.” Yunjin interjects firmly, but her gaze is softened, almost making you forget something about her.

The traumatising events reoccur in your mind as you release a shaky breath while attempting to maintain eye contact with Yunjin. “I saw you in the labyrinth garden. You were with one of the knights.” Your confession throws Yunjin off guard as she flinches visibly. “You were obviously enjoying it, even when the other knights were hunting down the rest of us and killed some students. Not to mention that there were gravely injured ones!”

Yunjin swallows harshly and takes a step forward. “I can explain─”

But your eyes return to Wonyoung before they dart down at her neck bearing hickeys. “Those are from Jungwon when he captured you that same night.” Your presumption proves correct when her cheeks tint pink. “I was worried for you and thought that he did something horrible to you, or worse.”

Getting overwhelmed by the different emotions that coalesce into one, your eyes begin to glisten with tears, blurring your vision with each blink. You can discern the guilt hanging in the cold air that is infused with their silence, but you continue to vent out the feelings you have suppressed.

“The thing that made me most upset about it was the fact that all of you didn’t seem the slightest bothered by what happened on Devil’s Night, including those students who were murdered by the notorious frat delinquents, and their only sins were simply having fun on a normal Halloween night!” You choke a sob with a fallen teardrop sliding down your cheek. “Even the rest of the students acted normal as if Devil’s Night wasn’t inhumane and traumatising enough.”

“That’s just how Devil’s Nights have always been.” Yunjin says her expression remains calmly collected, which infuriates you, because why does she seem indifferent about it? “And for that very reason, Devil’s Night is never meant for anyone with a faint heart.”

“Why are you suddenly blowing up on us about this?” Karina asks, giving you a bewildered stare. “We thought you were fine with it.”

“Because you girls should have told me in the first place how heinous Devil’s Night is!” You retort. “You girls were the ones who thought it was a good idea to bring me along with you in the first place.”

“I recall you agreeing and going to Devil’s Night on your own accord.” Wonyoung remarks annoyedly, her eyes narrowing at you.

“My biggest mistake.” You say in a tone that sounds foreign in your ears while you clench a fist. “You know what? I’m done with this.”

Just as you are about to retire to your room, Yunjin stops you with her inquiry, “At least tell us where you were earlier.”

With your back turned on them, you contemplate before opting for the other route. “None of your business.” You tell her quietly, yet it is resounding for them before you proceed to your room in haste and slam the door shut.

Your mind is on autopilot as you refuse to wallow in whatever feelings are storming all over you, heading for the bathroom to take a shower.

Minutes have passed since you entered the bathroom. Currently, you have just washed off the shampoo from your hair and are rinsing off the lathered soap on your body. Your face is devoid of emotion, but then comes the thought of Jake in your mind.

You recall what happened between the two of you earlier and how disgustingly aroused you were. A muscle pulses in your jaw while self-hatred shrouds you. How could you have done such deplorable acts just after you had sought forgiveness?

The shower steam is starting to fog in the bathroom as you remain under the shower head, allowing the water to rinse you thoroughly and self-reflecting your prior behaviour. 

But it feels as though there are devils whispering into your ears, making you recall again with another perspective how truly aroused you were and the delicious friction between your clit and the pointed tip of his clad cock, how the heat of his touch and his wet, messy kisses ignited your arousal.

You feel the familiar sensation stirring in your core before the essence starts to leak its way to your folds simply by fantasising about your ex-crush burying his thick cock into you. You squeeze your thighs in an attempt to suppress your arousal while simultaneously battling an internal conflict with yourself for being sinful once more.

Finally surrendering yourself to the devil’s lulling whisper, you begin to fantasise about Jake kissing you hotly and messily while groping every part of your body, his husky voice whispering all the dirty things seductively in your ear while he fucks you relentlessly.

You lean your back against the wall, slowly spreading your legs for good measure. Your fingers trail down to your aching clit which is in need of relief, while your free hand fondles your boob. Your head is tilted up with your chest heaving up and down as you circle your clit before you set a pace that is addictive, maintaining momentum that has you breathing heavily now.

Eventually, a moan leaves your lips as you rub and circle your clit fast while your fingers tweak and pull your hardened nipple. You begin to fantasise about Jake again, and this time, you imagine him doing this to you.

You had no idea how truly sensational masturbation was until now. You continue to get lost in the delirium, and you try your utmost to keep your moans at a minimum, but it’s like you lack the ability for control as you release moans that echo throughout the walls of the bathroom which you fear your best friends might hear.

You don’t stop, and you increase the pace as soon as you feel your orgasm impending. With one last moan, you finally come undone, feeling the sticky essence leaking from your wet folds.

With heavy pants, you quickly compose yourself by washing away the evidence of you coming undone. You know you should be disgusted with yourself, but amidst the immense guilt of the blasphemous deed, you feel a certain change within you.

Maybe you should meet him tomorrow by the palace and find out what he has in store for you.

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The next morning, you fall into your normal routine ─ waking up early for morning classes despite the lack of sleep last night, and evading your three best friends once again. But one thing is certain is the fact that you have been battling against the internal conflict within you.

Of course, before you fell into the state of slumber, you prayed and sought forgiveness from God with tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt like a hypocrite as soon as you woke up from the sleep filled with a lustful dream of Jake, and you were embarrassed by the fact that even in your sleep, you managed to get wet, as evident by the dampness of your pink underwear.

Throughout your morning class, you have been completely distraught and contemplated hard on your decision to meet Jake by the palace or not, and you tried conjuring any possibilities of tonight's outcome. Against your better judgement, you chose to venture to the route that the rational part of you has been relentlessly trying to stop you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you glance down to read a text from your good friend, prompting you to increase your walking pace.

WINTER: I’m on my way to your dorm. As much as I’m happy that you’re finally wearing something sexy for once, do I really want to know what is going on and why?

YOU: I’ll tell you later, but only if you promise to keep it a secret from the others.

WINTER: Our good baby girl is finally being scandalous now? Sign me up! Fine, I promise I won’t reveal your secret to others.

YOU: You’re the best, Minjeongie~

WINTER: I was born to be the best, babe.

You chuckle lightly before lifting your head up, but you bump into a solid back that causes you to stagger a step back. “I’m sorry.” Just as you apologise, his strong arm slings around your neck, causing you to nearly stumble forward under his weight.

“Hey, Y/N.” His sultry voice greets you, sending you bad shivers while your skin crawls with disgust as you finally look at him. You know him mainly because he used to throw vulgar remarks at you, and he and his other pals would often verbally bully you. They stopped when your friends stepped in and defended you from them.

“Alex,” You don’t bother to conceal your grimace as you attempt to shrug off his arm from your shoulder, but that only earns you to be roughly pulled into his side. You ignore the demeaning chuckles from his two pals. “let go of me.”

“I don’t think so, especially after we saw Giselle’s instastory of you wearing that tight dress and dancing like a stripper on Devil’s Night.” Alex’s disgustingly hot breath fans your earlobe as he speaks in a seductive lull. “If I had known beneath your pristine good girl facade is an attractive slut who should put her mouth to good use─”

Having had enough of being slut-shamed once more, you use your elbow to hit him hard in the stomach while a part of you is taken by surprise by your newfound bravery. Alex groans out in pain as he releases you, but his other pal, who goes by the name Simon, grabs your arm and slams you against the wall, eliciting a pained gasp from you at the impact.

By now, you tremble in fear when Simon pins you with no way out, his knee forcefully parting your legs. His lips curl into a sneer as he glares down at you. “Did you forget who we are? I guess it’s time we teach you a little lesson.”

You attempt to shove him by the chest, but your strength is no match compared to his. “Get away from me!” Your voice is laced with desperation for help, hoping that the students in your vicinity will come to save you, but they proceed to mind their own business as if they didn’t see you getting assaulted by your past bullies.

Your three bullies laugh degradingly as they surround you before Simon grabs a fist of your hair to pull your head to the back and force your neck to arch for him to administer his assault on your dainty neck as his lips touch your skin.

The corner of your eye is filled with tears, and this earns you a mockery of ‘awww’ from Alex and his other pal, who goes by Hans.

“No one’s going to help you, bitch.” Hans slaps your cheek lightly while you continue to struggle in Simon’s grasp. “You’re crying? We haven’t even done anything to you yet.

“What a fucking loser, as always.” Alex remarks with a smirk, watching you with a cruel glint in his eye.

Just as you think it’s over for you, a familiar yet sharp voice slices through the air like a knife that nearly has you flinching at how resonant it is. “Release her.”

Never have you ever expected Park Sunghoon to be the one to save you, or so you thought.

Simon doesn’t release the instant, but he does, however, look over his shoulder to cast a sneer at Sunghoon, whose face is devoid of emotion. “Mind your own business, Park. She’s ours to deal with.”

“We didn’t expect you to save your damsel in distress, Sunghoon.” Hans comments with his eyebrow arched, intrigued. “I thought you hated this bitch.”

Your eyes glisten at the moment Sunghoon’s cold eyes meet yours, the familiar sentiment you recognise all too well glints in his dark eyes. His lips curve into a sardonic smirk. “You’re right, but I’m not going to repeat myself when I tell you once again to release Y/N Kang.”

“Why?” Alex asks with a bewildered glare.

All the while, Sunghoon’s eyes remain on yours as he continues to speak, “Because she’s already mine to deal with. Trust me when I say I’ll be doing you guys a favour.”

Simon groans. His hand, which is grabbing a fist of your hair, tightens, eliciting a painful wince from you. “Just a few more minutes, Park. Let me fuck around with her for a little.

Sunghoon’s mere action of his hand gripping Simon’s shoulder firmly takes you by a slight surprise, as does the peculiar glint in his gaze at the back of the latter’s head. “I wasn’t asking, and you’ll do well to remember whose rank is higher between us.”

Simon clenches his jaw before he eventually releases you, allowing you to grasp the opportunity to calm your nerves. “Fine. You want her?” The next thing you know, Simon’s hands are on your shoulders tightly as he shoves you roughly towards Sunghoon, resulting in your tumble, and you find yourself on the ground.

You withstand the painful impact of landing on your knees. With your palms on the ground in front of you, you curl them into fists at the utter humiliation while you hear your three bullies snicker behind you. You allow your hair to cover any parts of your face as you refuse to look up, afraid of the expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“She’s all yours to deal with.” Simon tells Sunghoon with a sense of mockery.

“I don’t suppose you can consider sharing her with us.” Alex inquires smugly.

As you are directly kneeling in front of Sunghoon, you can feel him bending down before you feel his cold fingers gripping your chin tight and forcing you to look up at him.

The concoction of abhorrence and wickedness dance delightfully in his eyes, evoking a sense of foreboding from you. "Sorry, fellas, but you gotta find other girls to prey on. Y/N Kang is mine, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll do her much worse.” Sunghoon tells them, all the while keeping his cruel gaze on your glistening eyes.

His cold eyes rake over your features once more before he lets out a scoff. “Pathetic.” He utters the word to you as he releases your chin roughly.

You hear your three bullies erupt into laughter and praise Sunghoon. You finally find the will to look up and spot the three of them surrounding Sunghoon as they proceed to walk away from you.

With sore knees, you begin to rise from the ground and ignore the stares from the students in your vicinity who had witnessed the entire humiliation.

Your heart squeezes painfully as you recall the cruelty in Sunghoon’s cold gaze. You blame yourself for expecting him to save you when you should have known that he would side with your bullies.

As you wipe another fallen teardrop from your cheek, you advance forward, resuming your journey to your dorm, but your feet are practically dragging with a trail of your disheartened spirit.

All the while, you fail to realise a pair of familiar eyes with inexplicable storms have been watching the entire thing. 

With a face devoid of emotion, he watches your low-spirited figure get further and further before he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He whips out his phone and proceeds to read the text notification from his best friend.

SUNGHOON: They took the bait. 

JAKE: Thanks. Remind Jungwon and Riki to lock every entrance and exit tonight.

The corner of Jake’s lips tips up in a smirk, while there is a familiar bloodthirsty glint in his eye as he leans away from the wall to make his way to meet the others.

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You stare in incredulity at the garments that are laid out on your bed, while the not-so-subtle squeals from your high-spirited friend don’t go unnoticed by you.

When you specifically asked Winter if you could borrow her fishnet tights, you naturally expected her to bring the aforementioned items, but you definitely did not expect her to bring along some of her garments.

The garments consist of a black long-sleeve button-up crop top and a black pleated skirt that reaches way above your knees, barely covering your thighs. Uncertainty resides in your gaze. One of your biggest insecurities is that your thighs are thicker than your best friends’.

Honestly, you’re not too fat, but neither are you too thin. Your body proportion is something you have always found unusual. Your shoulders are slender, your breasts weigh heavier, and you admit that it hurts to run sometimes. Your snatched waist as well as your hip dips are something you are proud of, but your thighs have always been an issue for you whenever you want to try out denim pants or just pants that don’t cater to your size. Plus, you have always received remarks about your thighs from some people.

“Um, Winter,” You scratch your damp hair while your body remains wrapped in a towel. “I think the fishnet tights are enough since I did specifically ask for them.” You point out the obvious along the lines of light chuckles.

“I know that, duh, but to add some spice, you have to wear these.” Winter’s adamant tone leaves you no choice but to acquiesce. “Now that we’re at it, what is the special occasion? Who are you hooking up with?”

You gasp at her just as you retrieve the pleated skirt and the black top. “I’m not hooking up with anyone!”

“Girl, you can’t fool me. I mean, fishnet tights, seriously?” Winter deadpans. “Plus, there is only one person who has fishnet tights kink, and that very person is the one and only Jake Sim.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, but a certain curiosity pops into your mind as you stare at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I’ve heard a thing or two from the girls he had slept with in the past.” Winter says, getting distracted as she inspects her acrylic nails. “So are you going to hook up with him or not?”

“I─” You pause, and uncertainty wraps around your head despite your understanding of the clear intent of his suggestion last night. You heave a sigh. “I don’t know, and I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”

“Face it, babe. Deep inside of you, you want a taste of him.” Winter grins smugly while you grimace in return. “I really want to know all the details about how you and him happened, but that can wait.”

You watch as Winter makes her way to your wardrobe drawer, where you store your undergarments, and pulls it open before she rummages through them.

“Winter!” You shriek as she tosses each out, causing them to be scattered on the floor. “I just had them organised last week!”

“I’ll reorganise them for you later!” Winter chirps before finally having her hands on the pieces she looked for. You hear her gasping dramatically. “Y/N Kang! You sneaky little vixen!”

You groan at the gleeful tone in her exclamation as well as the pretty black lace bra and underwear in her grasp. “Karina bought them for my birthday last year.” You grumble out.

“That’s my girl.” A Cheshire grin adorns Winter’s face at the mention of Karina. She shoves those undergarments into your already-occupied hands. “Now go. I’ll be waiting here to do your makeup gorgeously so Jake won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

You roll your eyes in return, but just as you move forward, you halt your steps and look at Winter, who is seated on the edge of your bed, bouncing lightly with the same grin on her face. “I promise to tell you all the details of how it happened, but can you promise me that you won’t tell the others?”

“You have my word.” Winter gives you a firm head nod.

“Not a single soul.” You say firmly.

“Girl, just get your ass into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll keep all of your naughty deeds in full secrecy.”

Your eyes narrow at Winter as she makes the silly gesture of zipping her mouth before you eventually relax the tension in your head and proceed to change.

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Maybe it has to do with the fact that a part of you has been looking forward to this night, but by the time you arrive by the gates of the palace, you realise that it is still a little earlier than the time Jake had stated last night.

The cold breeze manages to breach through the thin material of your top, sending you shivers before you latch your arms around your figure in an attempt to warm yourself. The same breeze caresses your legs, which are adorned with fishnet tights, prompting you to press the button at the side as it buzzes.

Just as you retract your hand, a moment of ambivalence hits you. The rational part of you is begging for you to reevaluate your absurd decision to come here, but the moment the golden gates automatically open, you know that it is too late to back out. You can only afford to wallow in regret.

With each step you take forward, your heart gradually pounds hard against your chest, uncertain of what the night holds. Of course, you are expecting something that involves resuming where the two of you left off last night, but at the same time, you are caught up in turmoil.

The loud clanging sound of the golden gates surprises you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see the gates are closed, unable to make your exit. You swallow harshly before proceeding to venture forward.

Naturally, you head for the palace’s entrance, and as soon as you nearly reach it, a figure sporting all-black attire emerges from the side bush, and just his abrupt presence alone manages to give you a scare as you let out a shriek.

You hear chuckles beneath the grey mask that obscures his identity. “You really do have a faint heart.”

At the sound of his voice, a frown tugs at your lips. “Jungwon?”

Once Jungwon removes his mask, his feline-like eyes lock with yours, and his lips curve into a grin that has inexplicable intent. “You arrived earlier than expected.” He remarks calmly while you shift comfortably under his gaze. “Whatever. Either way, you’re going to get what you want the moment you step foot into our zone.”

Jungwon takes a menacing step forward, and instinctively, you recoil, but Jungwon is swift enough to grab you by the arm and pull you roughly towards him. “Last chance for you. Are you sure you’re up for this?” He asks quietly, his dark eyes scrutinising your face. “Because once you agree, everything that will happen next is essentially consensual.”

The apprehension in your tummy becomes tenfold while your mind is imploring you to run from this place, but your curiosity will always get the best of you. “Yes, I’m up for this.” The words fly out of your mouth affirmatively, and the small voice in your head is berating you for basically digging in your own grave.

A glimmer of delight shines in Jungwon’s eye. “You’re stupid, Y/N.” He remarks with a derogatory chuckle, but there is a certain knowingness etched on his face. “But I can see why he has taken a liking to you.”

You ignore the way his eyes rake all over your figure before he returns his gaze to your face and tightens his grip on your arm. “Let’s go.”

Instead of guiding you into the palace, Jungwon navigates his way around the building while literally dragging you as you struggle to keep up with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you nearly stumble due to the roughness of his deadly grip on your arm as he continues to pull you.

Jungwon doesn’t answer your question straight away, and just as you are about to inquire once more, your attention is pulled away from him to the familiar massive labyrinth garden. Those unpleasant memories from Devil’s Night flood your mind while you stagger a step back, flinching in fear.

You haven’t realised Jungwon has released his grip on your arm until his voice draws your attention to him once more. “Jake doesn’t know that you’re here yet, because he is preoccupied with a little something.” Your eyes narrow at his coy smile. “In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Then why have you brought me here?” You ask adamantly, no longer restraining your great annoyance for him.

“To spice things up, as you girls would say. You should head inside and don’t even think about trying to escape.” Jungwon warns you, his smile is no longer on his face. He takes deliberate, slow steps back while keeping his dark gaze trained on your face. “Good luck, Y/N. Hopefully, you’ll survive the night.”

“What?” You frown, watching as he gets further and further away. “Jungwon!”

Concurrently, as soon as you call for Jungwon, a scream belonging to a man pierces through the cold air, startling you. Your heart begins to pound in apprehension as you hear some commotion nearby.

You should have run away, but instead, you take tentative steps forward while you survey your surroundings, and you can discern another noise that sounds awfully akin to those gory movies you watched, as though someone is being stabbed.

“H-Hey, man! We can talk things out instead!”

You frown at the familiar voice of your bully, who sounds frantic and pleading with someone. You halt your steps just as you are about to turn to the right corner, where the source of the commotion is happening.

“You should’ve thought about it the moment you dared to touch and kiss her with your filthy lips.”

You are nearly rendered shocked by the unfamiliar coldness in his tone amidst the palpable darkness. You swallow down a lump in your throat before daring yourself to take a peek, and when you do, your eyes widen in mortification at the gruesome sight of Alex and Han’s lifeless bodies with blood splattered everywhere, but what horrifies you the most is the slit wound on their necks with blood oozing profusely still.

“You’re fucking deranged, Jake!” Simon’s yell pulls your attention to them, and you watch as Simon attempts to crawl backwards away from Jake while his hand is holding the side of his bleeding waist. “To go to this extent just for that fat bitch?!”

You know too well he is referring to you, causing you to wallow momentarily in dejection upon the familiar insult you have heard before. But Simon’s yell pulls your gaze to him again, and this time, you accidentally release an audible gasp that no doubt reaches their ears.

With Jake’s back facing you, you watch in pure horror when he plunges the knife in his grasp deep into Simon’s stomach with no hesitation. Simon coughs out blood, and that is also when you realise how badly fucked up his face looks. 

“The ‘fat bitch’ you referred to has a name, and for the record, she’s not fat.” Jake’s voice sounds deeper, and you can detect the snarl in his tone. “I’m so gonna enjoy killing you for assaulting what’s mine.”

“She’s not worth it!” Simon manages to splutter, wheezing as Jake twists the knife deeper into his stomach before he withdraws the knife to bring it to Simon’s neck. Simon doesn’t have the opportunity to say his last words when Jake swiftly slices his neck with clean precision, as though he is an expert at killing his victim.

You watch as the life in Simon’s eyes perishes before Jake roughly releases him, allowing his body to fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Numbness is all you can feel. As you stare at their lifeless bodies, you have no idea what to feel for them. Internal conflict resides with you. A part of you agrees with the fact that they deserve to die after what they did to you, but the goodness in you feels sorrowful over their deaths. 

The metallic smell of their blood pervades the foreboding atmosphere as well as your nostrils, snapping you out of the trance before you redirect your focus on the man whom you thought wasn’t capable of such a heinous act.

Holding the blood-stained knife that is dripping with the remnants of Simon’s blood, he slowly turns around, giving you a good view of his appearance. Your jaw goes unhinged upon seeing the ghostface mask obscuring his face.

By now, it is too late for you to hide yourself from him, as you can almost feel the intensity of his gaze behind that mask. Trepidation courses through your veins while your stomach churns with uneasiness as you stare at him in a different light.

Jake tilts his head slightly to one side, as though he is curious. “What are you doing out here?”

You don’t answer his question as you dart your eyes at your dead bullies before swallowing harshly. “You killed them.”

Jake takes a step forward, but you instinctively back away from him. “Why the sad face, beautiful? Shouldn’t you be glad that I did you a favour? They won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You curl your hand into a fist while you attempt to soothe your nerves. “But you didn’t have to kill them.” You say shakily.

“Of course, I had to!” Jake’s sudden outburst startles you, making you go flinching. “Don’t you understand? They fucking assaulted you! This is the consequence of their actions!”

“You’re crazy, Jake!” You surprise yourself when you manage to find your voice, but your hand remains trembling in fear for the man you thought was filled with radiant kindness.

Jake halts his steps, and it is hard for you to decipher the expression on his face, but at the moment he releases chuckles, you shiver at how dark and deadly he sounds. “You haven’t seen anything crazy yet, beautiful.”

In a blink of an eye, he charges towards you, and your body goes into a fight-or-flight mode as you find yourself running away from him. You don’t even have the time to marvel at your agility and how you are able to run at this pace, only desperate to fight for your survival.

Behind his mask, a cunning grin smears across his lips, finding the sheer thrill and excitement in preying on you. He purposefully decreases his pace, giving you the illusion that you have managed to outrun him as the two of you have entered the palace.

Things have differed from the original plans he had for you. You weren’t even meant to witness him kill your bullies. He had only intended to let you know after he managed to bury himself inside of you. Part of him is mad at Jungwon, but he can’t deny that this changes things into a rather thrilling adventure.

The darkness lurking beneath his charming countenance relishes the palpable fear and anxiety you exude as he watches you ascend to the second floor in haste.

You stop momentarily to take a breather. Your chest squeezes painfully with each breath you take. As you look around, you silently berate yourself for not making it to the exit of the palace.

“Awww, why did you stop running?” Your body goes frigid upon hearing his voice just a few metres from behind you.

You whip around, staring at him with wide panic eyes. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” He says, taking one step forward. “You’re going to run and find someplace to hide,” A chuckle of delight leaves his lips. “but if I catch you, I will fuck you, and if you try to escape again, I will kill you.”

Jake does not mean it literally. He just wants to give you a good scare. The way your glistening eyes are staring at him in palpable fear entices the wickedness in him.

The trepidation is making your head dizzy, while the fear enveloping your weak heart springs tears to your eyes. “J-Jaeyun─”

“Run, Y/N.” Jake shocks you as he nearly growls out, but it is as though your body has been paralysed, remaining rooted to the ground. “I said fucking run!”

And you do, picking up the pace. The interior is massive enough for you to aid your refuge from facing Jake’s malignity, and you grasp the opportunity to turn into a deep end corner where the long stretch of corridor displays doors that lead to different rooms.

“You better start hiding, my lovely!”

You dash straight for the flight of stairs next to you, all plans of hiding in one of the rooms are forgotten. When you reach the third floor, you have a hunch that either of these doors are their rooms.

Hearing his footsteps approaching from below, you decide to shove yourself inside an empty store room, which lacks any lights, before closing the door as quietly as you can. You whip out your phone frantically in an attempt to turn on the flashlight while your heart is racing at the familiar fear of being shrouded in total darkness.

With a heavy pant as you lean your back against the wall, you grasp this opportunity to regulate your emotions, which feel like a maelstrom within you. Your hand that is holding your phone remains trembling from the trepidation.

Your phone vibrates as notifications pop up.

WONYOUNG: Hey, can we talk later?

WINTER: Have fun, babe! Don’t forget to tell me all the juicy details ;)

You scoff lightly at Winter’s text. If only she knew that Jake was a psychopathic killer who had murdered your bullies. But then again, you don’t feel the slightest remorse. 

Instead of responding to any of them, you tuck your phone in your pocket and inch closer to the door. You press your ear against the door in an attempt to listen for his voice or footsteps, but there are none. Your hand finds its way to twist the doorknob before you slowly pull open the door. You peek your head outside and check for the coast.

The ominous atmosphere is accompanied by a cold, deadly silence. Mustering courage, you switch off your flashlight and step out of the room. You begin to devise quickly, deciding that you need to find another way to make your escape.

Stealthily, you advance forward, but hesitation is discernible from each step you take. Your inner turmoil persists while your skin is crawling with dread, hating how painfully silent the whole palace is and how dim the lights are getting.

Just as you are about to make your descent to the second floor, a startled gasp leaves your lips when your eyes lock onto the familiar ghostface. He is leaning sideways against the wall with one arm folded while the other is toying around with his knife.

“Hello, love.” Jake greets you, remaining unmoving from his position while you are trembling with palpable fear for your predator. You can already imagine the grin on his face as you detect his tone.

“Jake,” There is a plea in your voice as you take a step back. “please, let me go.”

But Jake simply ignores your plea. You watch as he goes perfectly still, as does the air around you while your figure is transfixed. You draw a sharp breath while your heart pounds erratically against your chest, uncertain of what to expect next.

The movement of his head tilted catches your keen eyes, and without any warning given to you, he catches you off guard when he dashes up to you, and you release fearful shrieks as you attempt to make a run in the opposite direction.

For a moment, you have forgotten that he used to be the captain of the rugby team, and you underestimated his agility.

With his hand firmly on your arm, he pulls you to him until your back hits his solid chest. You swear you hear his low, ragged breaths beneath his mask, and this position reminds you of the night he danced intimately with you, but this time, he has embodied a serial killer that you watched on screen twice.

Jake doesn’t say anything and forcefully drags you to one of the rooms, which you presume is his room. The cold air smacks you in the face as he forces you into his room. He kicks the door closed behind him before guiding you to his king-sized bed and pushing you down without any thoughts of gentleness.

You land face-flat on the mattress with a grunt before quickly turning around, your eyes staring at your own ghostface looming ominously over your figure. Your skirt is hiked way above your thighs as you attempt to scramble away from him, but just as you do, your pulses drum in your ears when he pins you on the bed with his knee in between your parted legs.

The streaks of moonlight streaming into his bedroom window illuminate the mask, allowing you to soak up the image of his ghostface mask up-closed into your frazzling mind as he leans down. Your eyes widen the slightest fraction while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. 

As the faint metallic smell of blood is detectable from his potentially stained black garments, your fear becomes tenfold, but you refrain from allowing the tears that have collected in the rims of your eye to leak out.

"I told you to run, did I not?" The pointed tip of his once blood-stained knife grazes down on your cheek tantalisingly slowly before it reaches your neck.

A tear manages to escape the corner of your eye while you release a whimper that galvanises the wickedness in him. "J-Jake, t-this isn't you─"

"You have no idea who I truly am, lovely." His chuckles that you once found endearing before are laced with malicious intent, and your body trembles with trepidation beneath him when he presses the sharp edge of the knife to your throat. "Do you remember what I told you earlier about what happens if I catch you?"

"You─" Your voice visibly shakes, which denotes fear, and your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his other hand to expertly unbutton your top while he awaits your next words. You swallow a whimper before forcing yourself to speak again. "You will fuck me." You weakly utter the profanity that tastes like poison on your tongue.

"And if you try to escape?" He asks, humming delightfully as he unfastens the last button of your top, now revealing your pretty black lace bra that barely covers the expanse of your plump breasts.

Dread crawls onto your skin as you whisper the next words, "You'll kill me."

You watch as he slowly removes his mask, allowing his long strands to hover over his chiselled forehead. You ignore the way your heart flutters as he smirks down at you with the craze glinting in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you all night, and you're going to scream my name until you forget yours, but first, spread your legs for me, lovely."

Jake proceeds to unzip the side of your pleated skirt before pulling it down, with you obediently assisting him as you lift your hips, which earns you an appreciative hum from him.

He taps your thigh, a signal you surprisingly understand, and you do as you were told, slowly spreading your legs for him despite the embarrassment flooding scarlet red across your cheeks, but you are thankful that the room barely has any lights. You don’t want him to see the stretch marks around your thighs.

It takes him every ounce of self-restraint from completely pouncing on you and burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt. He can already imagine the sweet taste of your pussy that no one has ever breached.

His eyes rake all over your magnificent figure, and he marvels at how truly perfect you look, especially your thighs that he desires to squeeze around his head as he delves into your cunt.

On the other hand, you take his silence as him judging you, causing your insecurity to resurface until you find yourself closing your thighs, but Jake is not having any of that.

“I said to keep them open, lovely.” Jake speaks through gritted teeth, his hand on the plump of your inner thigh and forcing it open, and you heed his command, not wanting to piss him off any longer.

At the moment his thumb comes into direct contact with your clit, you gasp in surprise. Your mouth opens partially with more inaudible gasps as his thumb begins to stroke your clit tenderly. The thin material of your translucent lace black underwear allows you to feel the friction distinctly.

“Did you dress up all prettily for me, love?” The gentleness in his tone takes you by surprise while he continues his ministration on your now-aching clit, which needs more than his thumb. He hums seductively, leaning down to place a sensual kiss on your throat. “I knew you would never disappoint me. You’re too good. My good fucking girl.”

Butterflies awaken from their slumber in your tummy upon hearing his praise, sending you an odd sensation. Sure, you’ve always earned praise from your family and your friends, but this feels like it's on another level. It makes you crave to seek validation and earn praise from him.

Jake steals your chance to speak as he decides to take you by great surprise when he practically rips your lace underwear, drawing a disbelieving gasp from you. “Jaeyun!”

“It was in the way, lovely.” He nearly whines in between grumbles, surprising you again. Just as he is about to grab both your thighs, you close them again as you shake your head. “Love─”

“They’re too thick.” You allow yourself to display vulnerability over the fact that you’re insecure about your thighs. Your head is turned sideways, and you do not know what the expression on his face is. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t─ Jaeyun!”

A shriek emits from you at the moment he roughly pushes your thighs apart by force and hooks his arms around them before pulling you roughly until your legs are hanging in the air by the bed. That is when you also realise he is kneeling to the ground with his face directly at your clean-shaved pussy.

“Thick or not, I don’t care.” He murmurs, nearly salivating, as his eyes zero in on your pussy. “I’m gonna show you the appreciation you deserve.” He squeezes your thigh with affection.

Something stirs within you, a newfound sentiment, but before you can decipher it, the wet sensation on your folds shocks you before you raise your head slightly to see him lapping his tongue on the heat of your pussy.

“Jae─” You stop midway, your mouth parting open with breathy moans. Your chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as his wet muscle delves in between your folds. The tip of his nose grazes against your aching clit as he inhales your sweet scent that matches your taste. He continues to eat you out, as though he has been long since deprived of pussy, getting addicted to your taste as he licks your nectar.

Maybe because you’re a virgin, but fuck, you taste divine, unlike anything he imagined. His cock starts to harden at the tightness of your cunt around him.

Eventually, you begin to grind your hips as you desire to feel his tongue deeply into you, and his chest rumbles with approval from your ministration. “Nngh! Oh my god!” A high-pitched moan tears from your throat, rolling your eyes as you throw your head to the back and realise how sensational getting eaten out truly is.

But Jake halts, retracting his tongue from your needy cunt and drawing a whine from you. His tongue hits the roof of his mouth, hating the word that just came out of your mouth.

“God, please, please, please!” You sound pathetic as you plead for him to lap your cunt.

“No more praying for you, baby.” You hear the derogatory tone and husky rasp projecting in his voice, along with that attractive, thick accent.

Your thighs are hurting with the way his nails are digging into your skin, and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as he lightly blows at your inviting, wet hole before he takes you by surprise once more as he dives back into you, and this time, the lapping of his tongue on your tongue is messy and sounds utterly obscene.

“Jake!” Your moan sounds disgustingly lewd in your ears, and yet you don’t want this to end, gradually grinding your hips while your fingers are tugging the roots of his raven strands hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibration through your body.

“That’s right. Scream my name just like that.” He chuckles darkly as he pulls away from you just slightly before plunging his fingers into you, causing your jaw to unhinge at the abrupt invasion. “This room is your church, and I’m your fucking preacher now, baby.”

You should be hating the words that left his mouth, but instead, you become even more aroused with lust, as it is clouding your better judgement. 

His two fingers thrust in and out of your slick cunt tentatively, watching you under his dark gaze. Despite the raging beast in him that is close to being unleashed, he knows that he should be gentle with you, and he also yearns to make your first memorable.

“You okay?” He asks softly, halting his fingering movement upon seeing your face.

Your glistening eyes meet his dark ones as he hovers on top of you, and you nearly melt at the sweetness of his gaze, such a contrast to the person he was earlier. Your eyes flicker down at his plump lips before you slowly nod your head. “I’m okay. I want─”

You smack your lips shut together, feeling diffident at how needy you sound. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of his fingers from your pussy.

“What do you want, lovely?” He asks, his gentle tone is an encouragement to you.

“I want more,” You tell him meekly, but the sincerity in you is palpable. Hesitantly, you decide to take initiative as your hands find their way to slither upward to his chest until they latch on the sides of his neck. “and I want you to kiss me.”

His heart soars at how adorable you are, but soon, the darkness inside of him takes control, wanting nothing more than to ruin you by the time he is done with you. Ruin for anyone to take you. Ruin for his best friends to fuck you.

He presses his lips against yours in a heated kiss, savouring the taste of cherry on your lips that has him kissing you with such fervour. Your skin tingles as his hand roams around your body before it rests on the side of your thigh, palming and squeezing the flesh in appreciation.

Satisfaction spreads across his chest as he hums into the kiss at the fact that you remembered his request that you wear fishnet tights.

As he pulls his lips away from yours, you gasp, feeling utterly breathless by the kiss. Your eyes are dazed as he retrieves the knife from the side without you knowing what he has planned for you next.

“Now, lovely, you’re going to fuck yourself onto my knife and cum on the handle.” He commands darkly, pulling you out of the trance as nervousness pulses through you.

“W-What?” You are clearly flabbergasted by the absurdity of his command and the abrupt shift in his demeanour. “But Jaeyun─”

Your breath hitches in your throat as the handle of the knife touches your clit before he drags it down to your wet slit. “Don’t disappoint your preacher now. You’re my good church girl, aren’t you?” The subtle derogatory tone in his voice makes you aroused instead of humiliated.

“Yes.” You whisper, subsequently grinding your slick cunt on the handle with his hand gripping the other edge. With each stroke you administer, you become more aroused amidst the fear of the sharp edge cutting your skin.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, refraining from eliciting a moan. But Jake narrows his eyes at you and, without warning, pushes the handle in between your wet folds threateningly. “Don’t you dare silence out your pretty moans.”

A whimper emits from you, but you don’t stop grinding, needing to achieve the prior climax. But the knife’s handle alone is not enough, prompting your thumb to find its way to your aching clit that is in need of relief.

Jake watches you with heavy lust that shrouds his dark gaze as you masturbate. The tendrils of your brunette waves spread above you gracefully while your lidded eyes are reflecting the same desire as his, and soft moans occasionally leave your mouth as you grind on the knife sensually. Your chest heaves up and down, allowing his eyes to marvel at the plumpness of your breasts, which are still adorned with a black lace bra.

Oh, you are most definitely his wet dream. 

“Jaeyun.” Your pretty moan pulls him out of the trance, and when he looks down at you, your eyes are glistening with needy tears. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, lovely.” He leans down to place a wet kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more of him. “Wanna see you cum all over this knife.”

He swats your thumb away from your clit and assists you, his thumb circling your clit deliberately fast that has your stomach twist in a knot while his other hand, which is holding the knife, unrelentingly slides up and down on your wet folds.

“J-Jaeyun!” You moan out, throwing your head to the back with your hands now latching onto your breasts to palm them, unintentionally giving him a show to marvel at. With how skillful his thumb is, you feel your orgasm impending.

“Come on, lovely. Cum.” He nearly growls out his command as he quickens the pace of his thumb on your clit, and at once, your thighs slightly tremble as you finally come undone while you roll your eyes to the back.

His tongue slides across his bottom lip as he gazes down, enthralled by the sight of your cum leaking from your wet folds before they drip down to the handle. You whimper when you feel the warm handle come into contact with your folds as he uses it to scoop some of your essence.

Jake brings the handle to your lips. “Open.” On his command, you do, and you are caught off guard when he inserts the handle into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Lick your cum.”

Despite the sticky sensation on your tongue that you find disgusting, your tongue begins to lick and swirl around to capture the remnants of your cum. All the while, your eyes remain fixated on Jake’s, wanting to please him.

His eyes darken with something primal at the image of you sucking and licking his cock the way you do now, but he’ll leave that for the others to teach you, because right now, the only thing he needs is to be inside of you.

He pulls the handle away from your mouth and tosses it elsewhere on the bed before slamming his lips on yours, forcing his tongue into the hot cavern of your mouth and licking the remnants of your cum on your tongue. You moan into the lewd kiss, your hands roaming around his body.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw now,” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away. “and I’ll be fucking you as ghostface.”

Your heart quickens in anticipation, and the excitement dancing in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he retrieves his mask at the side, chuckling darkly at you. “Yeah? You like the idea of a serial killer fucking you, baby?”

You don’t answer as you watch him shed the mask, obscuring his charming countenance. He unzips his pants and allows them to fall to the ground, prompting you to look at his lower region in surprise to see the visible thickness through the material of his boxer brief.

You look away as soon as he pulls it down. You feel him spreading your thighs once more, and this time, something warm and heavy taps onto your clit causes your body to jolt at the pleasurable sensation. He does it again and again, enjoying how your body responds just by the tip of his cock hitting your clit.

“Please.” You plead in a whimper, hating how he teases you. You attempt to entice him by sensually moving your hips.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He grins behind his mask, collecting the wetness from your folds and using it as lubricant before slowly inserting his dick into your inviting hole that welcomes him, but the tightness is still there, eliciting a hiss from him. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

Your jaw slackens at the girth of his shaft, feeling the thickness that your walls are having a hard time accommodating to his size. A fallen teardrop streaks on your cheek, alarming him.

“It’ll be all right in a moment.” He cups the side of your face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear on your cheek. He grunts as he continues to breach your entry. Your tightness is driving him crazy. “Just gotta get you adjusted to my cock─” Your cunt finally envelopes him wholly. “There we go.” A satisfied groan rumbles deep from his chest, relishing the way your warm walls hug his cock. 

As he slowly thrusts into you, the pain you are feeling is unlike any other. You underestimated his thickness.

More tears are collecting in the rims of your eyes as he drags his cock along your walls, but his constant whisper of reassurances and the way he is cradling your cheek with care alleviate the pain temporarily before it transitions into something you discern pleasure in.

Your hand flies to grip onto his bicep for support, feeling his muscle beneath your touch flex.

Upon hearing feeble moans from your lips, he begins to pick up the pace, thrusting into you fervently with an insatiable hunger for you. His fingers dig into your skin at your hips painfully, but it is an addictive pain you relish.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me hard, baby.” His husky voice sends your heart fluttering. He grabs one of your legs and holds it to his shoulder, his hand squeezing your calf while you are a tad surprised by how flexible you are. “Talk to me, lovely. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“So, so good.” The sound of your adorable whine has him clenching his jaw, and a loud moan comes from your throat as he snaps his hips against your bum, burying himself to the hilt. “Jaeyun!”

“Fuck, baby.” He grits his teeth as he feels your walls clamping around him tight, as though they never want to let go. “Scream my name again.”

Jake withdraws his cock from you, leaving only the tip to remain in between your folds, before delivering a hard thrust into you with his hips slapping the back of your thighs painfully. You scream his name again before moaning his name like a mantra as he continues to fuck you.

You whimper with tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare at him, loving the pain and pleasure he is giving you. He grabs your other leg to his shoulder and encases your calf with his arms in a lock before fucking deeply into you in a mating press that nearly has your body folded into half.

For a moment, your jaw goes slacken with silent moans emitting from your lips while your eyes go white as they roll to the back in pure ecstasy, feeling the way he is splitting you open.

With high-pitched moans leaking from your nearly drooled lips, you feel the familiar impending orgasm knocking violently on the door. “Jaeyun!” You begin to scream his name over and over, which sounds euphonious to his ears.

“Yeah? You’re close, lovely?” He asks mockingly, fucking into you without any ounce of mercy while his raging cock is in dire need of release, especially with the way your walls are quivering around him. but he holds himself back from cumming so easily. “Fucking cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you release a high-pitched moan as you come undone for the second time, your thighs quivering in his grasp. You take note of how he rubs your thigh almost affectionately.

You whimper weakly, feeling exhausted from the events that happened tonight, but he is unrelentingly fucking into you. “Jaeyun, no more.” You plead helplessly, and yet, your arousal eventually returns to you the heat of your core despite your sensitivity.

“I’ll stop whenever I want to.” He snarls, chasing for his orgasm, his thighs hitting harshly at the back of your thighs and ass as they jiggle before delivering one last harsh thrust and withdrawing from you. His hand latches around his raging cock to rub it fast before sprouts of his cum emerge from the tip, aiming it at your tummy.

“Fuck yes.” He moans out breathily, sending you a flutter at how good he sounds.

The sensation of his sticky cum on your tummy sends you shivers down your spine. Your eyes lazily glance down, only to be rendered appalled by the girth of his cock as it remains pointed towards you. His two fingers scoop his cum from your tummy to bring it to your lips.

Automatically, your lips part open for him to shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to swallow his cum while you remain in eye contact with the eye sockets of his mask.

You moan, licking his fingers, and your tongue swirls around them. You look so fucking innocent with the way your doe eyes are staring at him while you suckle and lick the cum off his fingers like a good slut. His cock starts to harden again.

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth and slaps your thigh. “Get up. We aren’t done.” He says sternly as he unzips his bomber jacket and tosses them aside, revealing his fine glory of toned abdominal muscles that allow your eyes to feast on.

Your eyes trail to the ink tattooed on his right collarbone, an interesting yet beautiful design of a snake. 

His hand latches around your forearm to assist you in standing, and when you do, you wobble lightly, but you don’t have time to process anything when he pulls you down. This time, he has you settled on his lap, directly where his cock is.

He grabs his shaft to smack it on your sticky tummy while you hear his low, ragged breaths behind his mask. “You’re going to ride me and take me like the good church girl you are while you confess your sins to me.”

Your breath hitches, feeling him tap his cock on your sensitive clit with his hand on your waist, holding you up slightly as he aims it at your awaiting cunt before he forces you to sink down to his girth, eliciting a moan from you due to the fullness. His cock remains snugly fitted into your pulsating cunt.

“Whenever you are ready.” He says in mockery as he slaps your quivering thigh again. “And I don’t want to see you stop fucking on me.”

With a shaky breath, you grind on him tentatively, unsure if what you’re doing is the right way, but with his hand on your hip serving as an aid, you gain confidence and begin to bounce on him.

“Forgive me, Father,” You struggle to form out the sentence, swallowing a moan at the delirious friction of your walls getting assaulted by the girth of his cock. Your hands latch on his nape for support while your head is tilted to the back, moaning out before speaking shakily again, “for I have sinned.”

“And what are your sins?” Jake asks in between bated breaths, struggling to refrain himself from bucking his hips to meet your thrust.

“For being a hypocrite,” The words fly out of your mouth, as though another person is speaking through you. You bounce on him again, practically using him as you fuck him. “For masturbating myself last night─ Nngh!” You moan as soon as Jake bucks his hips to meet your thrust.

“Did you, now, lovely?” He chuckles darkly, now removing his mask and allowing you to marvel at his chiselled features that glisten with sweat on his skin. The long strands of his hair look damp, but you yearn to run your fingers through them.

“Y-Yes!” You gasp out as he thrusts again, and this deep, you can feel the tip hitting your cervix.

“What else?” He murmurs, his hand traversing your body until it finds the back of your bra before he unclips it expertly. With your assistance, he pulls the bra away from you and tosses it elsewhere.

You lose focus at the moment he leans forward to latch his hot mouth on your perky nipple, licking and sucking it with a hum that sends vibration through your body. His strong arm is encasing your waist to hold you in place, pulling you impossibly closer to his body while he continues to thrust up into you, and the other hand goes to fondle your other boob that is in need of attention.

With his administration on your boobs, you now realise that you are sensitive to having your boobs and nipples played with, which add fuel to your impending orgasm that is threatening to crash down at any moment of time.

Hearing no response from you with the exception of breathy moans from your lips, Jake withdraws from your now glistening nipple and smacks your thigh, causing your body to jolt.

“I said, what else? Including your worst confession.” He demands in a soft tone, such a contrast to the way he is bouncing you on his cock while occasionally smacking your thighs. “Tell me while I baptise your thighs till it hurts.” He smirks cockily before leaning down your chest to capture the silver cross in between his teeth.

Your walls tighten around his cock upon seeing how hot he looks, gazing sultry at you with the silver cross remaining in between his teeth and some of his long strands sticking to his forehead, yet you can discern his mischief.

Tears begin to leak from your eyes at how painfully he smacks your thighs, yet you don’t stop fucking yourself deeply on him, allowing his tip to bruise your cervix. “Forgive me, Father, for I have committed a despicable sin,” You manage to utter in between bated breaths and whimpers, and your body jolts again as his palm lands another smack on your now reddened thigh. “A sin that I swore to protect and reserved my chastity for the one marrying me.”

Something snaps inside of Jake as soon as those words leave your mouth. The green infuses the red in him, driving him to grip your buttcheeks tightly before bringing you down with him as his back hits the mattress.

“Jake!” You scream as he thrusts into you with a newfound vigour, bottoming you with your skin slapping his loudly and your boobs pressed against his warm, solid chest.

“Wrong name again, baby.” With one hand remaining gripping your buttcheek, the other makes its ascent to grab a fist of your hair, tugging your head to the back before he leans up to pepper his kisses all over your throat. 

You gasp in pain as his teeth bite down on your skin. “Jaeyun! That hurt!”

Jake releases your skin, allowing you to fall your head to the nook of his sticky neck. Your lips continue to emit moans and whimpers as he bottoms out harder, wanting to feel you deeply again.

“Just a little more.” He grits his teeth as his jaw clenches, feeling your walls clamp around him as you come undone for the third time of the night. You slump weakly against him, your breaths labouring.

But Jake doesn’t relent. He continues to piston in and out, his hands gripping your buttcheeks deliciously to bring you down on his dick, before he lands a hard smack on your ass as it echoes throughout his room.

Jake grunts out a moan as he quickly unsheathes his dick from your quivering cunt before familiar white cum sprouts from the tip messily on his bedsheets.

“Jaeyun, wait.” You mumble weakly as you feel him manhandling you into a different position, now finding yourself laying on him with your back against his. He ignores your protest, spreading your thighs wide before grabbing his cock to aim into your spent pussy.

“I told you, lovely,” He rasps beside your ear as he inserts his cock back into you, and your velvety walls welcome him once more despite your pathetic protests. “that I'm gonna fuck you all night."

With his hands gripping your hips, he proceeds to thrust up into you while your jaw goes slacken again. Your hands claw at his forearms, squirming to get away from him despite his strength that outweighs yours.

Your defiance has led him to smack down your trembling thigh, and eventually, you surrender, slumping against him while allowing him to fuck into you as though you’re a sexdoll. 

“I’m close.” He whispers beside your ear as he migrates his hand to your cunt and rubs your clit. The other ascends to fondle your boob and tweak your nipple, rolling them between his fingers. The pleasure from both his cock destroying your cunt and his hand assaulting your boob is intensifying. “Cum with me, angel.” He says gently, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

The familiar knot twists in your abdomen before your whole body trembles as you come undone again. He unsheathes his cock from your hole and shoots his cum messily everywhere on your thighs and your outer womanhood.

You remain motionless on top of him with your body trembling from the overstimulation while your breathing is laboured and your lidded eyes are dazed from all the fucking. You hear him breathing heavily, and you feel his heart beating violently against your back. Butterflies flutter around your tummy at the sensation of his touch on your skin as he rubs your inner thighs soothingly.

Everything hurts, and yet, it is the kind of hurt you have grown addicted to and undoubtedly leaves you wanting more.

His fingers grip your chin gently as he turns your head to face him before his lips envelope yours in a kiss that has your toes curling. He kisses you sweetly with fervour, as though he is apologising for being a little rough on you. His hand is rubbing your thigh while the other wraps around your waist protectively.

“You did so well, lovely.” He purrs against your lips before resuming to kiss you ravenously, not having enough of the way you taste. Your heart flutters at his praise. He withdraws from your swollen lips before manhandling you again, and this time, he has you settled beneath him while he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder.

You watch with a fluttering heart as he presses a gentle kiss on your calf and returns his gaze to your face. “You should wear fishnet tights often. You look really good with them.” His sincerity does something to you, as it also distracts you from the familiar split-feeling of his cock breaching your cunt once more.

“But my thighs are thick. They look ugly on them.” You admit that your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, but you notice how his eyes darken dangerously again.

“You’re perfect the way you are.” He says softly while his thrusts feel slow and deliberate, as though he is taking his time to savour the velvety walls engulfing him. “Don’t ever change yourself. You,” Thrust! “Are,” Thrust! “Fucking perfect.” Thrust!

Lust clouds your head once more while your breathing gets heavier with each passing second, but you feel the exertion of his previous fucks into you dawning on your body.

“Eyes on me.” He orders sternly, and with a weak moan at the way he drags his cock deliciously along your walls, you do. A smirk touches his lips before he snaps his hips against yours painfully. “Good fucking girl. My sweet angel, all for me to fuck and ruin.”

Your eyes roll to the back with your neck bare for his eyes to feast on before he leans down to kiss your neck sensually, licking your skin and leaving marks in his wake.

With your head turned sideways as he continues to fuck into you harder and assaults your neck with his kisses, something captures your attention that causes your eyes to widen. Thanks to the moonlight streaming into his window, you manage to catch a glimpse of a familiar red mask on his table.

The very same mask belongs to one of your predators on Devil’s Night.

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When the next day arrives, you remain in the state of your deep slumber, completely spent from last night, as your body aches tremendously and your thighs are sore from being smacked relentlessly.

You stir lightly in your sleep with your face contorting into confusion, but there is a jolting pleasure from your lower region. Your eyes remain closed behind your heavy eyelids, and as a soft moan leaves your lips, your hips automatically buck up, wanting to feel the delirious sensation of a wet muscle flickering your aching clit.

The last thing you remember is you coming undone for the ninth time and Jake carrying your half-conscious body into the bathroom after giving you the best fuck of your life that you will probably remember for the next few weeks.

You flutter your eyelids open, and the familiar sight of his white-painted ceiling greets you. With your naked form displayed on his bed, your nipples harden from the cold air conditioner and from the way a certain someone is lapping your slick cunt from below.

“Jaeyun.” You moan breathily, grinding your hips as he delves into your cunt before pulling back to spit on your clit and catching it with his tongue. Your hands fondle your boobs while you spread your legs widely for him, which has him humming as he suckles your clit.

He resumes lapping your slick cunt as though he is a hungry caveman, and you come sooner than you like, but your eyes widen in shock as he is unrelenting. His chin sheens with your essence, and by now, he is practically drooling all over your cunt.

The sight itself should feel disgusting to you, but you find yourself being enthralled by how hot he looks with half of his face sheens with your cum as soon as he pulls away.

His dark eyes meet yours as they swirl with lust and desire for you, and a smirk smears across his slightly swollen and moist lips. “Good afternoon, sweet angel.”

You marvel at the handsome sight of him in a black-fitting tee that accentuates the muscles on his body and the chain necklace hooked around his neck while his long, dishevelled strands hover over his forehead.

You don't mind waking up to this mouth-watering sight every day.

Before you can open your mouth with the intention to speak about him being one of your predators on Devil's Night, he silences you with his lips, locking yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

Your fingers find their way to tangle and tug at his soft strands, and your heart flutters as he chuckles breathily against your lips at how needy you are chasing him with his lips as though you are famished.

The sound of his ringtone shatters the heated moment between the two of you, causing him to groan against your lips. Without pulling away from the kiss, his hand reaches out to grab his phone at the side, and his finger presses on the accept button.

He pulls away from your lips just slightly to shift his attention on his phone and presses on speaker mode. “Fuck off, I’m busy.” Jake says to the caller on the line in a pissed-off tone, startling you by his change in demeanour.

“Okay, I see. This is how you repay us for cleaning up your mess.” Jungwon’s sarcasm is discernible.

“What do you want?” Jake asks him gruffly as he tilts your chin to face him once more for him to resume kissing you. You whimper as he playfully nips at your bottom lip before probing his tongue into your mouth while his hand is tweaking and pinching your nipple.

“Jaeyun.” You whisper his name against his lips, wanting to warn him about the obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s lips. It is noticeable for Jungwon to realise the reason why Jake is occupied.

But Jake doesn’t give a fuck. He continues to kiss you sloppily before trailing his kisses down to your chest, his hand fondling the plumpness of your boob while the other nipple is occupied with his lips and tongue licking and flickering the bud.

“Listen, I don’t really give a damn about what you and the others want to do, but try to be subtle. I’d hate for Wonyoung to complain and whine at me. Just for your information, she cares greatly for Y/N.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your best friend and your name, but the curiosity that sparks earlier diminishes when Jake presses his clothed groin against your pussy before he slowly grinds on it.

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off. I’m very busy.” Jake dismisses Jungwon with a scowl, but as his eyes return to your dazed ones, he smirks down at you before grinding deliberately again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Seriously?” You hear the annoyance in Jungwon’s voice before the line goes off, allowing Jake to finally focus on you.

“You’re making me very hard, angel.” Jake groans, loving how your cunt is already leaking with the essence just by him grinding. “No one has ever made me hard the way you do, lovely.”

“I’m still sore, Jaeyun.” You mutter weakly, your lips forming into a small pout that entices him to kiss you, and he does.

"Mmhmm, I bet you are, baby.” He rasps against your lips, his tongue grazing across your bottom lip, while your fingers make their ascent to fiddle with his chain necklace hanging above your chest. “Want me to fuck you again?”

“N-No.” The hesitation in your shaky voice deepens his smirk.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you good?” He tugs and removes his black tee before tossing it aside. Your eyes feast greedily on his fine glory again, and this time, your fingers graze across his abdominal muscles to feel him while he watches you endearingly.

“I’m exhausted, Jaeyun.” You deliver another lie that contradicts your leaking cunt, which is in desperate need of being stuffed full by his cock.

“I’ll do all the work, baby.” Removing his last garment, his heavy cock slaps down on your wet folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He leans to kiss you once more before murmuring sweetly as he slowly thrust into you, “Just lie down and take it like the good girl you are, sweet angel.”

Least to say that you have a hard time walking with your sore thighs aching tremendously by the time he’s done with you.

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After Jake had dropped you off at your dorm, the time struck nine p.m. Fortunately, you have no classes today or tomorrow, so you can take advantage of that to get ample rest.

Apparently, the two of you got caught up in the intense heat. You lost count of the amount of orgasm he managed to bring out of you. Jake fucked you on his bed, in the shower, and even in the kitchen, where you were searching for something to eat, but your hunger was forgotten the moment he seduced you with his dark allure and fucked you from behind.

Even after he had destroyed your pussy, each time he inserted his dick into you, your walls never failed to feel tight around him, as though they were too attached and never wanted to let go of him.

While waiting for the elevator to open, you look at your phone screen, where the camera shows your face. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the noticeable lines of hickeys on one side of your neck. Fresh, purple, and red hickeys.

Your cheeks flush in pink at the realisation that your first crush had stolen your virginity as you tuck your phone in the pocket of your pleated skirt.

Soon, a certain ambience of melancholy envelopes you. Despite him giving you the best fuck of your life, you can’t erase the image of him killing Simon with no remorse or whatsoever and their lifeless bodies in pools of blood. It was as though Jake had done this before with how he killed your bullies impeccably.

A part of you so badly wants to feel some form of sympathy, but instead, you feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulder, relieved by the fact that your three bullies won’t be bothering you ever again. You know that killing is a heinous act and sinful, but you can’t deny the fact that there is a tinge of gratitude in you for Jake.

You release a deep sigh before stepping out of the elevator to head in the direction of your dorm, and subsequently, you feel dreadful about facing your best friends, but you know you can’t hide from them forever.

Speaking of friends, your eyes widen in realisation as you have yet to reply to Winter. You whip out your phone again.

Y/N: Come over tomorrow, and then I’ll tell you.

Just as you shove your phone into your pocket, you stop in front of the door before mustering courage and proceeding to enter with tense shoulders. When you venture further, the sight that beholds you causes your eyebrow to raise.

Wonyoung has her head resting on Jungwon’s thigh, her gaze is trained on the animated television. Jungwon is leaning against the couch comfortably, his hand is occupied with his phone while the other is absentmindedly running his fingers through her soft locks, but his face is tinged with apparent boredom. Neither of them seem to realise your presence by the living, and you grasp the opportunity to stealthily trace your way to your bedroom.

You have been holding back a scoff since the moment you saw them all so comfortable with each other. You can’t help but feel the slightest resentment towards Wonyoung, who has always been adamantly insistent on refusing to affiliate herself with any of the knights.

As soon as you enter your room and close the door quietly, you proceed to take a quick shower, scrubbing every inch of your body. No matter how many scrubs you do, you swear you can feel the heat of his touch on your skin that remains lingering, even after you step out of the shower, all fresh and anew.

Feeling the exertion once more, you waste no time bringing yourself to your inviting bed that you have missed dearly before throwing yourself on the mattress, your face planting down on your pillow.

Just when you are about to snuggle into your fleecy pillow, a knock startles you. Whoever is at the door surely must have seen the lights beneath the space of your door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N.” Wonyoung’s voice elicits a groan from you. “I’m coming in.”

You silently berate yourself for not locking the door earlier. As she pushes open the door, you turn away from her, attempting to hide your hickeys from her sight.

You hear the frustration in her sigh. “We really need to talk.”

“Has Jungwon left yet?” You ask curtly, your back is facing her as you fiddle with your soft toy. “What was he even doing here anyway? He’s your boyfriend or something?”

There are a couple beats of silence from her before she speaks in a wavering tone. “None of your business. We’re not here to talk about him. We’re here to talk about your disappearance since last night. Where were you?”

You scoff lightly as you stop your fingers from fiddling with your soft toy. “None of your business.” You use her words against her.

“Can you look at me when I’m speaking to you?” Though it is meant to be a question, the way she asks feels demanding, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Can you get out of my room?”

“For God’s sake, Y/N Kang─” Wonyoung stops mid-sentence at the moment you finally turn around to display your annoyance for her. Her sharp gaze immediately spots the lines of hickeys decorating your dainty neck. “What the hell, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrow at the near judgement in her tone. “I’m really tired, Wonyoung. We can talk some other time─”

“Who did you sleep with?” Wonyoung cuts you sharply, causing you to flinch lightly with her tone. “Who the hell did you sleep with last night, Y/N Kang? Was it one of the knights?”

It is as though there is a switch in your behaviour as you begin to lash out at her. “Fine, you really want to know? I slept with Sim Jaeyun.” Your declaration earns a shocking gasp from her, and it appears the volume of your voice attracts your other roommates’ attention as they emerge from behind Wonyoung.

“Our Y/N did what now?” Karina asks, her eyes bulging as she peeks her head over Wonyoung’s shoulder to stare at you.

“You’re bluffing.” Yunjin scoffs in disbelief, refusing to believe that you, a literal saint, have slept with one of the knights’ leaders.

“Believe what you want, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I still slept with him.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Wonyoung gives you an incredulous glare. “Y/N, we’ve told you countless times to stay away from any of them! Especially their leaders! What even spurred you to sleep with Jake Sim?!”

“Does it ever occur to you that I have needs just as the rest of you do?” You say tersely, hating the visible judgement in their eyes. “Don’t be a hypocrite when you girls are affiliating yourself with the same bunch of delinquents that you have been warning me to stay away from.”

“That’s because you’re different!” Wonyoung retorts harshly. “Because you’re not─”

“I’m not like you girls, is that what you were about to say?” You release a derisive laugh that sounds foreign to your ears. You clench a fist. “Was that why you girls befriended me in the first place? Because you pitied me and took me in so others could have some laughs and belittle me for becoming part of your cliques when I didn’t even seem fitting in to them.”

“You’ve misunderstood, Y/N.” Yunjin steps forward, and her once serious gaze softens. “We didn’t want you to become fucked up like us.”

“You can’t fool me.” You shake your head. “If anything, you girls seem perfectly fine.”

“You’re wrong. We’ve been keeping that side of us from you because we didn’t want for you to be affected and drained.” Karina offers you a weak smile. “It’s also the reason why I broke up with him — because he’s a knight. But despite breaking up with him two years ago, it resulted in me becoming mentally unstable.”

“Once you’re deeply involved with any of them, there is no way out.” Yunjin tells you, her tone sounds as grave as Karina’s. A bitter chuckle leaves her lips. “Look at me. I’m still pathetically clinging to the hope that Yeonjun will reciprocate my feelings.”

Your frown deepens, and at the same time, your mind clicks upon finally realising who Yunjin had fucked with on Devil’s Night. “You and Yeonjun were together this whole time?”

Yunjin smiles weakly. “It’s complicated because I’m not even certain of what to label us. Friends with benefits, situationship or whatever But the main thing is that being deeply involved with any of them will take a huge toll on your mental health.”

“Jungwon and I are not in a relationship.” Wonyoung finds herself confessing after contemplating for a few minutes. “In a way, my situation is similar to Yunjin. It’s a constant push and pull. Some days he seems to want me, while other days he acts like he hates me as if I’m a parasite.”

You bask in silence as you allow their words to soak into your muddling mind. To finally know of your best friends’ being affiliated with the knights has you resenting them a little for keeping you in the dark, because Karina doesn’t seem surprised at all upon their revelation. You begin to ponder if your other friends know about this or if they themselves are involved with the knights as well.

Maybe because you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to bury yourself into the pillow, but you really want to get this over with. You sigh. “Then why didn’t you girls just leave? If they don’t want you, shouldn’t that make things easier for you to leave them since they have also given you reasons why you deserve better?” You ask gently upon noticing the vulnerability shining in Yunjin and Wonyoung’s eyes.

“Like Yunjin said, it’s complicated, but at the end of the day, I know that I’m madly in love with him.” Wonyoung gives you a tight smile. “You’ll probably understand it sooner since you’ve begun becoming close to Jake.”

“We really didn’t want this for you and for you to end up like us, but you have free will, so we’re no longer going to decide things for you.” Yunjin says firmly before retreating to her room.

“It may get addictive at first, but trust me when I say you’ll be regretting it.” Wonyoung warns you. “Once things get badly fucked up, I’m not going to be there to comfort you since you should’ve known better.”

With Wonyoung’s one last look into your eyes, your heart slowly breaks into pieces as you can feel the last few strings that are holding your friendship together threaten to snap, and you know that things between you and Wonyoung will never be the same.

“Just a word of advice to be wary of Jake if you have plans on pursuing him.” Karina’s voice draws your attention to her, and you find her leaning sideways against the door with her arms folded across her chest. “I’ve heard some nasty things about him, but the worst of all is that he has a tendency to love-bomb girls.”

Before you can even ask for her to elaborate, Karina proceeds to head to her room, leaving you alone with your muddled mind. A part of you refuses to believe that Jake Sim is not as bad as your best friends described him. You have an inkling of what love-bombing is since Winter and Liz have talked about it. 

In denial, you grab your phone to send him a text, still motivated and refusing to believe your best friends.

Y/N: Hey, Jaeyun. Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

JAEYUN: I’m surprised you texted me first. Already missing me, lovely? :) 

Y/N: If I say I do?

JAEYUN: Don’t tempt me into coming over to your place, lovely, because I'm this close. To answer your question, I’ll be hanging out with the guys, so I’ll see you around campus on Thursday.

As you and Jake continue the conversation, giggles occasionally emit from you, making you feel giddy just by texting him alone and him flirting with you through the text. Your best friends are wrong about him. Even you can tell how eager and attentive he is through his texts alone.

WINTER: I have some tea to spill.

Y/N: What is it? I’m missing out on a good joke made by Jaeyun.

WINTER:.....girl, as much as I would love to ship the two of you (because, trust me, y’all look so good with each other), Jake is actually an asshole. I’ll explain whenever we meet since I can't come to meet you tomorrow.

Your curiosity just grows tenfold, and you need to learn more about why she claimed that Jake is an asshole. The same Jake Sim, whose eyes are filled with kindness whenever he stares into yours, whose cheeky grin adorns his charming countenance that never fails to make your heart go fluttery.

Your attention is pulled by another text from Winter.

WINTER: You know what? I’m just going to tell you half of the tea here instead. I collected some information from two girls he slept with before. They warned about getting close to him, especially after fucking him, because he’d only lead you on, and once you fell for his trap, that’s when he’d completely ghost you. Essentially, love bombing you.

Y/N: I don’t get it. Karina told me the same thing, but you girls don’t know him like I do.

WINTER: Babe, you’ve just met him and got closer not too long ago. You should leave him before he leaves you instead. Do you know that word has it: he is clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder? It makes perfect sense why he is the way he is.

Y/N: I don’t care what you all have to say, but I’m not gonna leave him.

You release an angry huff as you shut your phone before deciding to lie down on the bed. You hate how they all seem so adamantly insistent on trying to get you to leave Jake.

There is no denying that you are already emotionally attached to Sim Jaeyun, so you couldn’t help but defend him, but what struck you deeply was his kindness during your very first meeting with him. You recall his kind gaze and mirthful grin on his countenance when you first conversed with each other, and the sincerity in his tone when he wished you the best throughout your time in Crestview Meadows.

No, the Sim Jaeyun you know is not an asshole.

The familiar ringtone of your phone disrupts your train of thought. You lazily reach out to grab your phone, and when you see the ID caller on the screen, the frown on your lips transitions into a smile before you keenly accept his call and press your phone against your ear.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were okay.” Jake’s husky voice through your phone alone manages to send the familiar flutters to your heart. “You didn’t reply to my last text.”

“I’m fine, Jaeyun.” You tell him, your voice coming out soft. “I’m just tired. By the way, I forgot to thank you for the aftercare.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Besides, there is no way I would leave my girl just like that.” His breathy chuckles cause your smile to widen.

“Your girl?” You ask, playfulness tinges your voice.

Jake hums attractively. “That’s right. You’re my girl, Y/N.” You detect something dark and dangerous that belies his tone. “Get more sleep, yeah? I don’t want my girl to wake up completely lethargic tomorrow.”

“Okay, Jaeyun.” Little do you know that your obedience draws a wicked smirk on his lips.

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Two days have passed since you ever had a proper conversation with your other three roommates, but it was mostly you avoiding them. As for Winter, she remains the same, but the judgement in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you when you hung out with her yesterday with Rei, Kazuha, and Giselle.

You have been ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind telling you that it isn’t worth it to strain your friendship with them for a man. 

They were wrong about Jake. Even when the next day arrived, he never failed to greet you through his texts and occasionally flirted with you, but you could see that he wanted to continue the conversation with you.

But the odd thing is, he hasn’t been replying to your texts since this morning. You tried calling him once, but it went into voicemail. All the while, your stomach churns with uneasiness.

Now you’re in quite a dilemma. What is your relationship with him? Are you his friends with benefits? Does he see you the way you see him? Does he want you the way you want him to?

Hence, you decide to put an end to all of these questions jumbling your mind by going on a little adventure to find Jake in the science, technological, and engineering building. Your keen eyes dart everywhere, looking for a certain male with long hair strands that you wish to skim your fingers through again.

Annoyance bubbles within you before you decide to muster courage and ask a familiar knight member strolling in your vicinity.

“Have you seen Jake?” You ask him, and your question has him raising his eyebrow.

His eyes scrutinise you for a minute. “He’s in our main quarter.” To your surprise, he nudges his head, beckoning you to follow him, and you do.

The way to the devil’s knights’ main quarter is confusing, but thankfully, it doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to reach.

“You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon aren’t inside, or you’ll probably get kicked out by them.” He murmurs to you before opening the door for you.

You cast him a kind smile that caught him off guard. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu blinks his eyes, faltering at the sight of your smile. “Uhh, you’re welcome?”

You look away from him and proceed to enter. Your jaw goes unhinged at how palatial their main quarter is, and it even consists of two floors. You spot a few knight members on the second floor, and your presence draws their attention to you, but your gaze is fixed intently on a certain someone who is capable of making your heart all fluttery.

But this time, your heart has a discernible crack. There is Jake, seated on the couch and in a heated lip-lock with a girl you don’t recognise. His hands are roaming around her body, reminding you of when he touched you like that. The sound of their lips smacking against each other seems to break your heart piece by piece.

“Y/N, did you find him?” Beomgyu’s voice can be heard from behind, but you are too busy reeling in heartbreak.

It appears that the volume of Beomgyu’s voice manages to reach Jake's ears as the latter pulls away from the kiss, and when his eyes lock with yours at the instant, your heart breaks even more at the lust glinting in his eyes that is meant for the girl in his possession.

“Jaeyun.” You utter his name numbly, and naturally, you expect him to panic and rush over to you to explain, but instead, a cold smirk is drawn on his swollen pink lips.

“What is she doing here, babe?” The girl on his lap glares at you, her lips curling into a sneer as she scans you from head to toe. The distaste is apparent in her gaze.

“How could you?” You manage to find your voice, but it comes out shaky as you refrain from getting emotional.

“How could I what?” His voice holds zero affection for you, and as you stare at him with glistening eyes, he looks entirely different from the Jake you know. His smirk persists while his eyes are filled with an unfamiliar coldness.

You hate how he is staring at you indifferently. It's like he's a stranger.

“I thought I meant something to you.” You say, and a painful lump is stuck in your throat. “I thought we had something─”

“Don’t be delusional, Y/N. Just because we fucked, you thought you meant something to me?” Jake’s cold chuckles sound foreign to you. He continues to gaze at you dangerously cold while his hand is stroking the girl’s waist, causing your tears to finally leak from your eyes. “You’re nothing special, Y/N. Besides, you’re not even close to being my type.”

“What is wrong with you?” You step forward as you clench a fist. “You’re not like this. You’re acting like a complete jerk now.”

Something dark and twisted lurks behind his eyes that you once loved to gaze at. “I told you before that you have no idea who I really am. Now get out and don’t forget to close the door, yeah?”

“Screw you.” You don’t even have time to be surprised by the hatred in your tone as you immediately dash out of their quarter, ignoring Beomgyu’s calling for you.

A sob is threatening to escape from you as more tears stream down your cheeks. The knights in your vicinity shoot you odd looks, but you are too distraught by your newfound heartbreak.

You thought you had something with him, especially when the two of you spent all night talking, texting, and flirting over the phone. You thought you were his girl.

You should have known that, at the end of the day, his playboy tendencies persist and that he will always be a womaniser. You should have listened to your best friends who did warn you, but just like Jake said earlier, you’re delusional.

Amidst the sadness, you wallow in self-hatred. Hatred for falling into his schemes and for allowing him to take away your virginity.

Your shoulder accidentally bumps into a figure, and just as you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm firmly, prompting you to turn your head to look at him through your tearful eyes, your vision blurring with each blink.

“What are you doing here by our quarter?” Sunghoon’s cold voice doesn’t even deter you, as does the clear distaste in his expression towards you. But the moment he sees your eyes red and slightly swollen from the crying, something stirs within him that feels foreign. It almost feels like he feels sympathetic for you.

“What happened?” He finds himself asking this, and he has no idea why. His grip on your arm becomes tight.

“Don’t act like you care.” You sniffle, refraining from ugly sobbing in front of the very person who hates your guts. Once his grip feels loose, you yank your arm from his grasp and flee the knights’ territory, leaving Sunghoon curious about what happened to you.

As for you, your guilty conscience is gnawing at you to seek forgiveness once more, and when the next day arrives, you find yourself entering the familiar church with bloodshot eyes, an obvious sign that you had been crying all night.

Your best friends were right. The Sim Jaeyun you know now is, in fact, an asshole.

#the devil's knights' prey #enhypen #enhypen poly #jake #heeseung #jay #sunghoon #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #thriller #enhypen jake ghostface

[anamelessfool]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

oh wow this was tough! Especially since I write to make myself happy first so I like everything I do.

You can tell I like em so much based on the art I commissioned and/or made for the project!

Violence & Gentleness (Primo set in 1979)

Honestly I would consider this one of my greatest artistic achievements in my life. Like, full on sad I can't officially publish this. Firstly I put so much historical research and lore into it. And then the characterizations of the brothers and their relationship to each other. How the dynamic of the Church changes when there is a female Satanic Anti-Pope.

Strength VIII (Dom GN! Reader x Papa IV)

I was feeling like there was no representation of a realistic Dom/sub encounter with a Dom reader, or at least I hadn't come across something that I felt was accessible for me. I'm not a sub person at all but I'm not an intense whips and chains Dom either. I wanted to create a scenario that showed first and foremost a foundation of trust and affection instead of just shock tactic sexcapades. It's important to make the stuff you want to see.

Ribbons & Ties (Terzo x Omega)

I got very invested in domestic non-smut. I liked how neatly the story fell into place. You get a glimpse of the Church as I see it and all the brothers in their specific roles. Plus Terzo shows Omega the deepest part of his heart. Vulnerability and trust is what I like to write about most.

Wanna Bewitch You (Copia x Cardinal Marian)

Again, another plot that fell neatly into place. Got time skips, flashbacks, platonic bonds and apocalyptic visions forced upon the cowardly Copia. Marian and Copia are beyond 'meet cute' but still afraid of commitment. Another "Wouldn't it be funny if..." Story that basically stopped being a joke.

No Deal (Hippie Reader x 1970 Nihil)

I can't ever have a normal reader fic, sorry. Liked researching the era for this one. 1969-1970 was literally the best 20 months of music history in the last 200 years holy shit. Started out as a joke and yeah you guessed it....not a joke no more.

(commissioned art (Copia Terzo Duet and Terzomega) by @kabukiaku)

#ask answered #self reflection #ghost fandom #ghost band fanfic

[granddelusions]

SUMMERBOY (JOHN FRUSCIANTE)

summary: you and john spend the night together before he goes away on tour again

warnings: smut (porn with very little plot) 18+

your boyfriend had the entire summer off from touring.

the summer in question was spent traveling around to little beach towns, fucking in hotel pools after hours, and lying on the beach, hands intertwined watching the tides turn with electric ladyland playing on the stereo. you couldn’t ask for anything more, besides another month spent only with your love.

however, tonight was the last night of your little vacation. tomorrow evening, john was going back on tour for a month, in another country no less.

you and john decided after going out to a nice dinner to go right home, upon john seeing how short your sundress was. he assumed your choice of attire was purposeful — he was correct. the 10 minute car ride back to your house felt like a half hour. by the time he pulled you through the door, he had you against the wall, teasing his fingers along your wet pussy, entirely ready for him and eager for wherever the night would lead.

it was so, so fucking hot —- it really was the middle of a blazing california heatwave, the worst one in years— and you begged for sweet release, beads of sweat glistening on your face while john pressed kisses along your neck, softly repeating your name like a prayer.

john eventually worked his kisses down to your stomach and inevitably your panties, ripping the white lace and flicking his tongue over your clit, making you scream. his tongue became more forceful, and the insertion of his fingers into your cunt had you turned into a crying mess already.

“so wet, baby. i’ll take care of you.” he said, murmuring against your slick cunt.

the build-up in your stomach became even more intense and strong; you knew you were cumming from just his fingers and his tongue soon enough if he kept talking like that.

“all yours, johnny. fuck.”

“you’re doing so well, baby, just let go.” he groaned.

and you did, crying and screaming and moaning his name so loud you had a feeling the neighbors may bitch you out tomorrow morning.

he pulled away from your pussy to take a look at you, practically fucked out already, mascara runny and hair a mess.

“cmon baby, i wanna fuck you just right before i go away again.”

he carried you to the bed and removed your sundress, letting your breasts go free and brushing his fingers along your hardened nipples, making his cock twitch in his pants.

he unzipped his pants, letting his cock — dripping with pre-cum — out of his boxers. he kissed your breasts and swirled his tongue around your nipples, leaving bruises and marks that you’ll fantasize about and long for once he leaves you again.

once you positioned yourselves and john stroked himself a few times, he slowly began to press his cock inside of you, leaning down to kiss you on your lips, his fingers still wet with your juices now caressing your cheeks.

you whimpered.

“you alright, sweet girl?” he asked you gently, a hint of concern on his face as his eyes made their way to the bulge forming in your stomach. he always adored seeing you filled with his cock.

“‘mmm okay, johnny. just fuck me, please.” was all you could muster out in your state of bliss, grabbing a hold of his long dark hair, now drenched in sweat.

“gonna miss this, honey.” he murmured, his cock starting to pick up the pace and thrust harder into you.

you moaned against his hair.

“johnny, don’t go, please please please don’t go.”

he noticed your pout, which regretfully only made him arch his back and bury his cock deeper into your cunt, making you squeal, tears now streaming down your face.

“i’m sorry baby, i love you so much, it’ll only be for a few months — look at me.”

he grabbed your jaw, his eyes piercing into you.

“okay?”

“okay, johnny.”

“now cum for me, baby, alright? be a good girl, honey.”

his thrusts became rougher and quicker, his fingers entangled in your hair.

“you want me to fill you up, sweetheart?” he groaned, his own orgasm imminent.

at this point, you could only nod in agreement, your need to unravel leaving you completely dumbstruck.

you came all over his cock in a sobbing mess.

you laid back on the pillows — your beach curls completely ruined — as john unloaded inside of you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and all over your thighs.

after he softened and pulled out of your dripping cunt, john leaned over to the side of the bed to grab a towel, cleaning you up and lazily pressing kisses along your stomach, making the both of you laugh.

“i’m so proud of you, baby. you did so well.” he praised.

he took you in his arms, still naked and drenched in sweat. any negative thought about john’s leaving you was completely diminished by his hazel eyes completely immersed by your nude body.

“these were the best few weeks of my life, sweetheart. i mean it. i hate to leave my favorite girl again.” he smiled, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips again, softer this time around.

you relaxed against him, laying your head against his chest.

“promise you won’t forget me while you’re on tour and all those girls are flashing their tits at you?” you said, your lips still tingling.

he pressed a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“not a fucking chance. i’ll be thinking about this every night.” he whispered against you, his one hand reaching for your cheek and the other grabbing your hip, just slightly grazing your ass. you could finally smile, totally relaxed.

you both still had the summer, after all.

#john frusciante #john frusciante x reader #john frusciante smut #john frusciante fanfic #red hot chili peppers #hi this is the first fic ive written in years #rhcp #rockstar gf #anthony kiedis #flea #chad smith #rockstar smut

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That. 

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 

#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art. #me like two weeks later: hey guys :) #this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod #not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright??? #but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling.... #maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing! #anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE) #see this is why im not cut out for writing fic #its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts #if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5 #anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness. #well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage #but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future #but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning? #also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv #mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all #hmm now how does one go about tagging fic #vettonso #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #martian #sebmark #also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed #hahaha! it is art to me!: #catie.art. #boy king au

[koipalm]

congrats on the hypnos kii :)

dude when i say that ive been talking about hypnos in hades 2 i mean this is 3 years ongoing. when i SAY that me and my friend (hypnos council) have been talking about wanting to have to help hypnos in the second game bc hes missing WHEN I TELL YOU THAT WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT IT... we've proposed hypnos with long hair, we talked incessantly about arenos (taking credit for that too) literally even before today we've considered hypnos/apollo like oh my god. this is everything

#for YEARS it was just 'as long as hes in the game' #PEOPLE DIDNT CARE ABT HIM AT FIRST so many people hate him when they first play.... #and hes treated so badly in the game it was a PIPE DREAM that he would be even a partial focus #when i tell you that we're so fucking back. #ask #txt #IVE LITERALLY WRITTEN A FIC ABT HIM. IVE DRAWN HIM THE MOST OF ANY CHARACTER IVE EVER DRAWN #my hypnos final boss au.... my hypnos older brother au... oh my god were so fucking back #I HOPE HE GETS TO PARTICIPATE IN THE WAR #MY HYPNOS FINAL FORM AU #thank u my friend. its nice to be back #now for his kids and his romance to be added

[chexie]

hey kings

it’s y’girl!

...Please accept a sub 3000 chapter as my formal apology for deleting myself for almost a year

#darkside detective #The Darkside Detective #Okay kings we're gonna try to keep this a light and funny ha-ha tag ramble #Because things got kinda heavy last time I got asked about the fic so! We're having fun! #...Okay I know I said we weren't gonna be that heavy but 👏 #It's trivia time champs #So uh. Among other things... McQueen's dad was not planned to be dead from the start? #...oh spoilers also read the chapter first #But I think because I've experienced three things dying this year (including like. a human man) that's basically all Ive been getting lately #Along with this we have another case of 'I rewrote the first half of the chapter again' #This time we missed an instance of Dad McQueen uh. Existing #And like McQueen's first 'case' in the heaviest air quotes I can manage #It's something he brings up in his 'eulogy' so you can get. A vague idea #Also if you pay close attention #You can see exactly where I started writing today #And while I feel like being self-deprecating here and already have #I don't really want to be #Because I realized one of the things holding me back was that at some point this fic made me develop like. Imposter Syndrome? #Probably not exactly. But. It just started being a thing of 'well it's been so long and I don't like what I've written' #'But I don't wanna disappoint anyone because people like. Actually wait for this and actually like it' #And that is. Bonkers. It's strange to me but it's so. so. fulfilling as a creator #So I know that this chapter probably isn't like totally amazing water my crops sorta stuff #but thank you for tuning in and I'll talk to you again. Ideally within the month #Thanks for listening 💖

[chimaerakitten]

I think one of the big strengths of fanfiction as a medium is that it can, on average, assume the reader has a way higher degree of familiarity with canon than like…canon can. If you’re in the Star Wars AO3 tag you probably like Star Wars enough to remember more things about it than the average Star Wars-enjoying-ten-year-old. Which makes it way easier for fanwriter a to get to the juicy stuff and really engage with the worldbuilding or minor characters without having to spell out like. Who Wedge Antilles is for everyone who forgot or never noticed him in the first place. You could write a book about Wedge in the old EU because EU readers could also be assumed to be serious fans, but you can’t make a new canon Disney+ show about him. Those cost money to make and are intended for a broader audience.

And all this means that like. A good fic writer can and often will surpass canon when it comes to like. Thematic resonance and stuff, because they can really dig into something. Star Trek 2009 gave Kirk a new, more generic tragic backstory because it couldn’t expect the average moviegoer to be familiar with Kirk’s old, way more interesting tragic backstory. (Frankly, I’m not sure jj abrams knew about TOS Kirk’s backstory) whereas I have read a LOT of well-written, interesting, deeply resonant fanfic examinations of Tarsus IV, and what it means for Kirk’s character that he’s a genocide survivor. Star Trek 2009 answers the question “why did Kirk cheat on the kobayashi maru?” With “‘cause his dad crashed a spaceship when he was a baby.” A close examination of TOS canon implies the answer is “because he lived through a real-life Kobayashi that did have a win option, but which wasn’t taken.” BUT—and this is significant—even the TOS canon movies can’t really assume knowledge of the full TOS tv show, so that implication is never examined or made explicit. Instead it’s fanfic (and maybe spin off novels? Idk I’ve only read 2 trek books, if there’s one out there that covers this that would be really cool) where we get dives into that thread, where Kirk gets a commendation for original thinking because he can look a testing board in the eye and say “I’ve seen what happens when someone is entrenched in this kind of thinking, and I cannot let it happen to me. I understand the lesson, but it’s not hypothetical anymore and it never will be. I did what I had to do.” And that’s interesting! That’s meaningful! That can’t happen in a summer blockbuster. But it can happen in fic, easily, and that’s a strength of fic, I think.

#summer blockbusters are better at being summer blockbusters than the fic about them #but the fic gets to get into the weeds #in a way a movie can’t and shouldn’t #fic can accomplish different things #Star Trek #Star Wars #just used as illustrative examples lol

[spacecowboyhotch]

The Brink

summary: you and aaron try for a baby.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

contents: NSFW/18+/MINORS DNI, pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink if you squint

wc: 1.2k

gif credit: @hotch-girl

an: first proper hotch fic ive written since sept of last year. hotch girls make some noise, it’s been a long time cominnnnn’! this isn’t beta’d so if there’s typos blame grammarly 🤪

cm masterlist | requests closed

“Oh god, Aaron, please,” You whine softly into the sheets, attempting to rock back against him.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you,” He shushes you gently, pulling back just a bit before easing back inside of you and staying still.

He’s driving you insane in the best way and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

You’re so warm. The warmest you’ve ever been in your life, surrounded by heat, and while you generally prefer to bundle up in the cold there is no other place you’d rather be right now. There’s sweat pooling in the dip of your back, coating every inch of your skin that is practically suffused to Aaron’s. He’s draped his entire body over yours, his hips moving forward in a slow grind that presses the tip of his cock at the spot deepest inside of you.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but what you are sure of is that there was at least a bit of dusk peeking through the blinds when he’d first carried you to bed. You feel as though he’s consumed you— his hands, his mouth, they’ve been everywhere and you haven’t had a single complaint.

You’d told him that evening that you were ready to have a child with him in the most nonchalant way. As always you were perched in his lap, grinding down against him until he’d gone mad and needed you as much as you needed him. And when he had reached for protection like he always does, you grabbed his hand and fixed him with a look that made him feel like you wanted to swallow him whole.

Don’t. I want to try, Aaron. I want you to fill me up, you’d said.

His head had tilted, eyes scanning your face as he assessed you for what felt like an eternity before quietly asking you if you were sure. And when you nodded, opening your mouth to speak, he hadn’t even given you the chance because he lunged forward, pressing his lips to yours in a frantic, hungry kiss. You’d been frozen, succumbing to his mouth before your brain recalibrated, able to match his fervor.

It took no time at all for him to get you both naked, to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue. Aaron’s always giving in bed, but it is his way of taking. Your pleasure and his pleasure are almost one and the same, two veins that feed into each other.

“I love you,” He murmurs against the skin of your neck before pressing a series of kisses to the column of your throat, trailing them over the slope of your shoulder.

You shiver against his mouth, reaching back with a hand to bury it into his messy, slick hair, “I love you, too.”

“Are you ready for me to put a baby in you, sweetheart?”

This time your shiver is more of a shudder. You support your head in the cup of your palm, turning to glance over your shoulder at him as you nod frantically. “Please. Please.”

“One more time, sweet girl, ask me one more time. The way you beg…” He breathes, the sound hitching in his chest.

You notice that his eyes are cloudy, with love and lust, as he stares at you. Your mouth pulls up in a lazy, satisfied smile. Yes, you’re always happy to submit to Aaron, to have him scramble your brain until your only words are his name and some sort of pleading for more. But sometimes —unknowingly— Aaron submits to you too. Your every ask is met with yes no matter how long it’s been, how tired he is— in and out of the bedroom.

“Please, Aaron.”

“I’m right here. Right here, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” He reassures you softly.

Despite that reassurance, he doesn’t quicken his pace or increase the force of his hips. He continues to grind into you, wanting to stay as close to you as humanly possible. To cum as deeply inside of you as possible, hellbent on it to take. And while you’re confused, this much different than how he usually works you both to climax, you trust him with everything.

“Look at me,” He breathes into your ear, and you do, your eyes meeting his once more.

There’s a desperation in his eyes, a wildness you’ve never seen before and you know that he’s just on the brink. His hips move sloppily against yours though there’s still no change in his methods. He feels like he’s acting on instinct, like some need in his body has taken over and he can hardly think about anything but you. The way you smell, the way you feel around him— tight and wet— the way you’re looking back at him with this pleading expression on your face.

The sight of him like this is what sends you over the edge, and you cum with a whine, somehow squeezing him tighter than you had before. He follows you, burying his face in the smooth skin of your back as he fills you with warmth. The groan he lets out is deep and filthy, his breath tickling you and making you squirm. It sends him deeper, and his hips buck forward, keeping every single drop of him inside of you.

If this doesn’t take, he doesn’t know what will.

He avoids putting all of his weight on you by turning you both on your sides, hooking a leg through yours, and wrapping his arms around you so there’s nowhere for you to go— not that you’re in any rush to move. Not that you could with how exhausted you are from being tangled in bed with him for so long.

“Incredible stamina,” You tease as you try to recenter your breaths.

“We’re never doing that again,” He huffs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You laugh softly, leaning into his touch, “What time is it?”

He glances behind him to the clock on his bedside table, and you feel rather than see his grimace. “Eight,” He says reluctantly, knowing what’s about to happen.

You glare over your shoulder at him, “Aaron, I missed my show.”

“Maybe next time, you should tell me you want to have a baby on a day you have nothing to watch,” He says matter-of-factly, mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh.

“I always have something to watch.”

“I’d deem it a worthy sacrifice.”

His words make you smile, heart going gooey. Any grumpiness about your show fades as you nod softly in agreement, “Yeah, me too.”

“And sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” You hum as you lay back against him again, eyes slipping shut.

His lips are at your ear, his voice just a whisper, “I recorded your show. All of them, they always record.”

The smile on your face widens, making your cheeks ache, “You’re a perfect man.”

“I try,” He quips.

The two of you lay there for a while until he convinces you to clean up and order food. And as you sit with your feet in his lap, tuned into your show, Aaron glances over at you, his heart full. He hopes that this little slice of life you have together with get brighter with your growing family.

cm taglist: @ssahotchsbitch , @ssamorganhotchner, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack , @sunshinemunchkin, @angelfxllcm, @wheelsupmarvel, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch , @crowfootwrites, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @greg-montgomery, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithwho, @honeybrowne, @rousethemouse, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @mayasreadingnook, @lesbianhotch

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #arson writes #not sfw

[roosterr]

murphy's law

a/n: ive had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to dump it out of my brain for all of you to enjoy. somewhat inspired by lunarvicar's amazing wonderful fic to the flame i really love her writing so check it out yo also i haven't written anything in years so cut me some slack :')

pairing: captain john price x gn!reader

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can't seem to catch a break.

no use of y/n, callsign is 'vantage'

no physical description, but reader is (very) vaguely implied to be shorter than price

warnings: descriptions of injury (nothing too graphic), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor character death, i don't know how the military works lmao, lots of swearing bc i can't help myself

word count: 8.6k

read it on ao3 here

✹✹✹

it was a straightforward mission; in and out, grab what you need, and you'd be home in time for dinner. nothing you hadn't handled before.

ghost and price were on overwatch; the lieutenant was positioned with his rifle on a rooftop across the street, whilst the captain stayed in the suv with a laptop to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras around the exterior of the building.

you'd had your eyes on this intel for months now, biding your time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your opening had finally arrived, and with all that time spent planning, it was going so well.

that should have been the first red flag.

the second, more apparent, warning sign was that anything you found as you, gaz, and soap swept the building was either something you already knew, or irrelevant. how was that possible? the location of this facility was a heavily guarded secret, you'd fought tooth and nail to find it; why spend so much effort hiding something which had such little value?

you'd ventured to the second floor, up the damp stairwell and further into the eerily quiet building. there must be something worth hiding here, you just had to find it. you certainly weren't planning on going home empty handed.

you paused your movement into the dark, staring down the empty corridor through the sights of your gun. you felt your stomach turn, and swallow down the sick taste of bile in your throat. for everything you'd done to get here…

it was going so… well.

bringing your hand to the radio on your chest, you don't bother to calm the shake in your voice before speaking.

"does this feel off to anyone–"

you're cut off by price's shouting, a twinge of panic in his voice you aren't used to hearing from him.

"fuck– it's an ambush! get out of there, now!"

you're about to respond, when you hear gunshots from below you. soap and gaz were downstairs, where the hostiles were pouring into the building, and you were on your own upstairs.

the shots from ghost's rifle make your ears ring, even from across the street.

"vantage, get yer arse down here, there's too many of 'em!" soap's yelling brings you out of your haze, and you can't find the energy to respond as you take off running, back to the stairs you came up. "shit– man down! gaz is hit! they're coming up, vantage!"

you just about register what he said when the door to the stairway bursts open only a few metres ahead of you. diving into the nearest open room, you narrowly avoid a bullet to the gut, and slam the door shut behind you.

shit. fuck. fucking shit.

you counted at least four hostiles up here, and with gaz injured, soap would most likely be dragging him back to the suv you all arrived in, where price was waiting, which meant…

you really were alone.

well, ghost was out there, but he was a man of self preservation. he wouldn't risk coming in here to save you. not when you were this fucked.

your chest felt tight, now, and you could hear the enemies shouting on the other side of the wall. come on, you plead with yourself, do something!

snapping your head to look around the room you'd trapped yourself in, your eyes linger on the filing cabinets lining the wall next to you. you can drag them over here, barricade the door. 

prolong your survival, or delay the inevitable.

you hadn't noticed how hard your nails were digging into your palms until you went to grip the cabinet. the half-moon divots stung against the cool metal as you heaved it in front of the door.

now the hostiles are outside, rattling the wall with their attempts to kick the door down.

you drag another one, for safe measure. you pray they'll be heavy enough.

through the blood rushing in your ears, you can just about make out price's voice.

"vantage, answer me dammit! what is your bloody status!"

"i'm good– i'm good," you manage to get out between pants, never once taking your eyes off the door. willing your heartbeat to slow down. "not injured, just– stuck in a room upstairs."

"that doesn't sound good to me."

it all went quiet when he spoke to you. at first you thought it was just because your focus had shifted– because it was him– but it really was quiet now.

"yeah, i… they're– wait, they're not at the door anymore, they…"

hold on.

what?

"ghost, you got eyes? what's happenin' over there?" there's a sense of urgency to your captain's voice, and for a single selfish moment, you think he might be worried for you beyond that of a just soldier. your frenzied mind lingers on that thought.

the gruff voice of ghost brings you back to reality,

"they're setting charges– vantage, you need to find a way out."

charges. explosives.

all you can muster is a half-hearted, "shit…"

deep down, you know that isn't going to happen. you wouldn't have time to run down the stairs, and even if you did you'd only be walking right into their bullets. there's nothing they can do to help. and you think, deep down, they know that too.

this is it, then, you think to yourself, am i really going to die like this?

and for another fleeting moment, you're filled with regret that you would never get to see john's face again. all the stolen glances, lingering touches, inside jokes; none of it would ever amount to anything. would he remember you? would he even come back for your dog tags?

the tightness is back in your heart, but it's different this time.

your eyes still don't leave the door as your back hits the wall. the faint moonlight gives the room a soft glow, serene, and your heart sinks further into your stomach.

the moonlight;

the window, the outside.

not an ideal escape route, but these were hardly ideal circumstances.

you didn't waste a second with hesitation and backed up for a running start. you thank every deity you can think of that you always insisted on wearing a helmet.

this was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative.

"van, you have to get out, please!" you're not even sure who's talking in your ear anymore, but you know who you want it to be.

for him, you think to yourself, i have to make it back to him.

with a deep breath, you take off into a sprint, tucking your head into your elbow and diving shoulder first through the glass.

as you free fall out the second storey window, you think you hear john calling your name, your real name, and you think you feel a flutter in your chest. it was almost peaceful.

and then you hit the ground.

with a thump and a sickening crack, you rolled unceremoniously and ended up on your side, in the snowy alleyway behind the building you were just trapped in; the building that was about to be demolished. your elbow muffled your pained cry.

right, explosives, the reason you jumped to begin with.

your teammates are still going berserk in your ear, yelling at each other or you or both, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you could answer them once you were a safe distance away– and when you could breathe without heaving. as you stand, swaying on your feet, you feel your ribs shift in a way they definitely aren't supposed to, filling you once again with the innate urge to vomit.

but you swallow that down; it'll have to wait, you need to get as far away as possible, now.

your hands braced your broken ribs– and you notice, then, that your shoulder is killing you too– as you stumble down another alley, leading away from the building. you slip and almost fall on the untouched snow, but somehow manage to catch yourself. in the back of your mind, you notice you lost your rifle at some point. you'd have to survive with just your pistol.

for a moment, you almost felt that you'd gotten away, that you'd made the perfect escape.

of course, it was too perfect.

the charges finally went off. you were thrown forward, and despite your helmet, everything went black.

✹✹✹

your ribs flared with agony at the ragged breath you took, blinking your eyes open as consciousness returned to you. darkness swarmed your vision, contrasting the pure white of the snow that was slowly freezing your extremities, and you fought with every bit of self-restraint you had not to cry. your eyes stung anyway.

how long were you out? you were still in the alley, and you hadn't been found by anyone yet, so it couldn't have been long. i need to move, is the only thought swirling in your head. with what little strength you could muster, you rolled yourself onto your back to look at the ruins behind you.

dust filled the air and coated everything in sight, obscuring your vision almost fully; but what you could make out, was the lights from your enemy's guns as they swept the rubble.

looking for you, presumably.

shit shit shit.

you had god knows how many broken ribs, your shoulder was fucked, and now your vision was swimming, and to top it all off you could barely hear yourself think over the violent ringing in your ears. this night just kept getting better and better.

it took everything in you not to scream at the agony as you dragged yourself behind a fallen dumpster, sitting up against the cold brick of the building behind you in an attempt to catch your breath.

in. out. in. out.

in.

out.

every move had your bones creaking in protest, the longer you sat here the more you felt every little cut and bruise and shard of glass littering your body. the dust in the air tickled your throat and threatened to make you cough up a lung, spots in your vision danced like fireflies, luring you back into the clutches of sleep.

no… i can't rest yet, you urged yourself to fight your drooping eyelids, i have to get back to the suv… they're waiting… for me…

the crunch of debris under heavy boots snaps you back to the present.

someone was approaching.

the optimist in you wanted to believe it was price, coming to rescue you. but you couldn't take that chance. your hand grips the pistol on your hip, drawing it out slowly to make as little noise as possible.

the shadowed figure came stumbling into view. your arm straightened to aim at their unprotected head, eyes wide and breathing laboured.

the man– the boy– locked eyes with you, flinging himself backwards to the wall opposite you with his hands held high.

your expression hardened. he was your enemy. his uniform made that clear. for a moment, neither of you moved, you weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore. like two wild animals, locked in a staredown, each of you waiting for the other to make the first move. which one of you was the hunter, and which one was the prey?

shooting him will draw his comrades over here. sparing him means he can call them over himself. a lose-lose.

lost in your internal debate as you stare at him, you vaguely notice his hand lowering to his belt, and in a moment of panic, your heart clenches in time with your finger to deliver a shot right between his eyes.

his body slid down the wall, a perfect mirror of your own as the life fades from his expression.

shit. again.

his friends must’ve heard that. with renewed, adrenaline fueled vigour, you scramble across the alley, and begin rifling through the packs on his chest and belt.

a twinge of guilt fills you as you notice his empty holsters. he wasn't even armed.

shaking your head, you find what you're looking for; a morphine shot. at least, that's what it looked like, the words on the label were swimming with the concussion you surely had. it would have to do.

you take the syringe carefully, and stick the end into the muscle of your thigh, through a rip in your pants you hadn't noticed before, and inject the solution. it would take a minute to kick in, but hopefully the painkiller would help you at least make it back to the suv where your team was waiting.

where price was waiting. god you hoped they were okay, him especially, though he was probably in the least danger of you all. what you wouldn't give to have stayed in the car with him.

pocketing the empty syringe, you spare another glance at the boy's face. his wide, lifeless eyes. the pack he was reaching for. the same one you found the morphine in.

he… was going to help you. and you'd killed him.

oh god. the realisation has your stomach turning for the third time that day.

you pressed his eyes shut and pushed yourself to stand. as you trudge your way to the far end of the alley, you keep your eyes forward. there wasn't time to linger.

with a deep breath, you steel yourself and begin to make your way through the cold, abandoned streets of the small town. the suv wasn't far, only a couple blocks away. it wouldn't take you long to get there, even with your injuries.

somewhere in the distance, you could hear terrified screaming, presumably the residents who were forced awake by the sound of the explosion.

now that the ringing had died down, you realise that you hadn't heard your teammates in a while. absent-mindedly, you bring a hand up to press the comms, and you almost start talking before you feel the plastic crunch under your fingers.

"oh for fucks sake."

of fucking course your radio was broken. it must have been crushed when you were flung forward by the explosion.

brilliant.

whatever, the suv would be in your sight soon anyway, you don't need it.

the cover of night made it significantly easier to hobble through the streets unseen, thanks to your all black gear. the enemy were still hovering around the destroyed building, but at least that meant they thought you were buried under there. hopefully they would stay distracted long enough for you to make it back.

god, fuck, you really couldn't wait to get back to base. you desperately needed a shower hot enough to melt your skin to scrub off all the dirt and blood from your body. the morphine had started to kick in now, but you still felt your ribs shift unnaturally with every heavy step. you'd definitely need a few weeks off to recover from this one, and you’d probably get an earful from the captain. you’d kill to hear his voice right now, even if he was yelling at you for being an idiot.

only a little further. then you’d be back with the safety of your team, with this godforsaken place in the rear view mirror. with the promise of being able to rest, your limbs seemed to grow heavier as the exhaustion finally made its way into your bones.

except, when you turn the final corner, you freeze, an ice-cold dread sweeping through your veins.

the car was gone.

it wasn’t there.

they weren’t there.

there was a stretch of tarmac that fresh snow just beginning to fall had yet to cover, tire-tracks that showed the u-turn the suv had done, blood on the snow from– you assume– gaz, empty bullet casings from the fight they put up.

but no suv.

no teammates.

no john.

no. no, no no no. they couldn’t have left you. that wasn’t how you did things in the 141. it was no man left behind, you knew that. maybe they’re just circling the area, you rationalised, desperately trying to calm your ragged breathing, yeah, they went to look for me. they wouldn’t leave me behind.

but they weren't here.

and as you followed the tire-tracks down the street, they didn’t go back into the town. they made a straight line, directly to the dirt track leading into the wilderness, clear as day in the snow. back the way you had all gotten here earlier that night.

your knees dampen from the snow, the painkiller in your system keeping you from feeling the impact. when did you fall over? there was no attempt to stop the searing hot tears this time as they ran through the dirt caked to your face. your throat constricted, lifting a hand to your mouth to muffle your hyperventilating.

they were gone.

long gone, without you.

they really had left you behind.

a mumble from somewhere to your left interrupts your breakdown. grief morphs into blinding rage for a split second; can i get a fucking break? you swing your arm still holding the pistol to point at whoever was watching you, twisting your abdomen in a way that has you gritting your teeth.

a woman, clutching her young son, shielding his eyes and ears from you.

you lower your gun. that’s not a mistake you’ll make twice. catching her eyes, you gesture for her to be quiet, which is quickly met with her frantic nodding.

it reminds you, you’re still not safe here. you were supposed to be, but hey, it looks like plans change. no man left behind– what a load of horseshit. you push yourself onto shaky legs, you only had a few hours until the morphine wore off, and you needed to be out of here before that happened. as fast as you could possibly muster, you begin to stumble towards the dirt track that disappears into the treeline, following the slowly disappearing tire-tracks.

✹✹✹

you managed to make it into the woods faster than you expected, and you found a fallen tree slightly off the path to take shelter behind while you licked your wounds. literal and metaphorical.

this was unbelievable. how could they leave you like that? if they’d only taken the time to do a quick lap of the building, they would’ve found you laying face down in the snow, and this whole mess could have been avoided. where were they off to in such a hurry anyway? it’s not like you guys had found anything sensitive. 

oh, wait. gaz was shot. that had briefly slipped your mind. perhaps you were being a little selfish by getting so worked up by this, but then again, for all they knew you could have been in the same condition– or worse. they…

your breath hitched. and not from your injuries.

they thought you were dead. that would make sense, in the chaos of everything, and amidst your panic, you didn’t really do a good job keeping up with answering your comms. still though, you were definitely going to rip them all a new one when you got back; or maybe it would be the other way around.

either way, you couldn’t sit here and dwell on it all night. you needed to make it to the safehouse before they flew back to base. if you missed them this time, you really were well and truly fucked.

✹✹✹

"i've gotta be at least half-way by now," you lament, flopping down against another tree with a grunt in an attempt to calm the burning in your legs and chest. the morphine had worn off about a few hours ago, and you were finally feeling all the bleeding wounds you'd ignored before. nothing lethal, you hoped, aside from your shoulder, ribs, and splitting headache, it was mostly just a lot of glass in your skin.

when you left the town, it must have been just past midnight, and at this pace it would be well after morning before you made it back. you could just about see the first signs of dawn poking through the cloud layer.

the snow had gotten heavier, casting a haze over the horizon, but it hadn't escalated into a storm yet. even under all your gear, the cold was starting to bite at your limbs. your lack of gloves was a decision you were coming to regret; if you lost any fingers because of this you really were going to kill price.

"fuck, he thinks i'm dead…" you groan as you stare up at the sky. snowflakes catch in your eyelashes and threaten to freeze the tears as they well up in your eyes. was he as distraught as you currently were, you wonder? was he even moved at all, or were you just another soldier, just more paperwork he had to fill out?

being in love with your captain was so, so difficult. a mistake, most would say, and you used to tell yourself the same thing. but after knowing him, seeing the vulnerable parts of him he keeps closely guarded, you can't bring yourself to care. seeing his expression when you gifted him the cigars you bought for him, learning his favourite drink when you all went out after missions, trading stories over paperwork in his office late at night. even after everything you've been through together, you know, in your heart, he doesn't feel the same; he's your superior, you're his sergeant, and he is nothing if not an honest man. it can never work between you two. but despite it all, the only regret you have as you sit bleeding in the snow, is that you never told him how you felt.

please, don't leave me here… 

in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn't go home without at least id-ing your body, but you were so shaken by the ongoing near death experience that your train of thought wasn't making much sense anymore.

the distant whirr of a helicopter snapped you back to reality. maybe it was… no, the 141 didn't have a helicopter here, which could only mean it was a hostile one. fucking fantastic. where you were slumped was right at the edge of the road, with very little cover from above. you needed to move further off the path, under the protection of the forest canopy.

with a laboured grunt, you pulled yourself back onto your feet, using the tree behind you as a crutch until you could catch your breath again. the helicopter was getting nearer now, close enough that you could almost make out the spotlight through the falling snow.

a brief jog was all you could manage to get away from the road. the snow wasn't deep enough to leave tracks that would be noticeable from the air, not through the shade of darkness. you still as the helicopter passes overhead. there's no change in its course, and you huff a breath of relief. at least you wouldn't have to try and outrun a chopper.

you watch the helicopter's silhouette fade into the night sky. there was nothing to do but carry on. you needed to get to the safehouse.

this was going to be a long night.

✹✹✹

hours, it had been hours since you first set off, so long in fact that it was essentially daytime. the sun hadn't fully risen, casting the world in a dim light that was just dark enough to keep you tripping over roots and holes in the ground.

the snow had let up a while ago, but the overcast clouds had stayed, the perfect match to your steadily declining mood. you thought you felt like shit earlier? if only you could have predicted how much worse it would get. you were acclimated to the pain by now, it reduced to a constant throbbing where your bones were broken. perhaps the icy temperature around you was numbing your injuries; it was either that or the shock.

ahead, you recognised a set of worn tire-tracks making a hard turn through a gap in the forest. there was no way of knowing it was the right way, but a spark of optimism ignites in your chest. maybe you were finally getting close. you just had to pray that your sense of direction was good enough to be leading you in the right direction.

you were right on top of the tracks now, and upon closer inspection, the pattern of the treads might just match the ones on the suv; you've had to fix that damn car so many times you'd know it in your sleep. they were messy, the snow making it hard to pick out, but you needed the hope right now.

this had to be them.

you go to continue down the clear path, to follow where your team had gone, but your luck just doesn't improve.

the mud slides under your foot, catching your ankle and toppling you in your attempt to struggle through. the breath is forced from your lungs as you impact the ground. you cry out through gritted teeth, feeling the strain of your muscles twisting far further than they're supposed to.

pain strikes through your ankle like lightning. drawing a breath is almost impossible from the pressure of your ribs. as you fight to sit up, the mud fights to drag you back down like quicksand.

fuck. another injury to slow you down.

muddy snow covers you from head to toe, the stabbing pain in your shoulder coming back in full force.

was that a car? the low rumbling from the direction you came from drew your attention, and you faintly see beams of headlights through the darkness. you momentarily forgot about your injuries, a frenzied panic making your blood run cold. another patrol. i need to go.

then, as you struggle to get up and out of sight, you feel a concerning pop from your kneecap, and you don't even have to look to know it's dislocated.

but there was no time to check the damage, you had to hide, now, or the truck would reach you and you'd have a lot more problems on your hands. you scramble onto your hands and knees, and yank your ankle free of the wet mud, practically throwing yourself behind the undergrowth just in time for the truck to round the bend.

your ribs are displaced again, injecting fresh pain into the shuddering breath you took, on top of your newly twisted ankle and dislocated kneecap bent uncomfortably beneath you.

it's a miracle you were able to keep quiet as the vehicle passed by.

by some stroke of luck, or just divine stupidity, your enemies drive straight past the space in the trees and your hiding spot. the headlights cast ominous shadows as they cruise by, but they didn't see you.

struggling to your feet once again, this time you give the muddy path a wide berth as you make your way deeper into the forest.

✹✹✹

one foot in front of the other. dragging your injured leg behind you. cradling your broken ribs.

just keep going.

limping through the mud took every resource your body had left, the effort of keeping upright was almost more than you could take.

how much longer could you possibly go, before you can't get back up again?

you couldn't lose hope.

ahead of you, a break in the sea of trees.

just one foot in front of the other. that's all you need. it's all you can do.

closer, stepping out into the open, squinting against the sun.

against the pale light of the morning sky, you see a dark shape. a building? you couldn't tell, you could only pray it was the warehouse you'd been longing for.

one foot in front of the other.

closer still, despite the bone-deep exhaustion in every limb. you could make it out now, the rusted metal siding and fresh tire-tracks in the mud. you were right there.

you taste the salt before you realise you're crying. 

almost,

somewhere between the agony, you hear yourself think,

still too early to celebrate.

your heart stutters. they were here, they had to be.

they had to be.

one foot in front of the other.

closer again, you focus on the keypad beside the door. your ankle twists uncomfortably as it drags along the gravel.

the handle became your crutch as you mustered the energy to lift your arm to enter the code.

seeing double, vision swaying as the edges fade.

a distant beep. a red light turning to green.

the handle turns under your weight, and the door swings open.

you find the floor coming up fast.

voices are all around you.

you give in to unconsciousness.

✹✹✹

the distinct hospital smell is what rouses you from your deep, dreamless sleep. hands prod at your busted ribs, drawing a scratchy groan from your dry throat. you grab the wrist of whoever is there as you fight to open your eyes.

"sergeant vantage?" they call out to you, and you realise with a disappointed sigh that it's the medic and not your captain. you open your eyes fully and see her standing above you with a clipboard in one hand. apart from her, you're alone in the medical wing. she notices you looking around, and looks down at the clipboard as she continues,  "glad to see you finally awake. your teammate gaz got off pretty lucky, the bullet went clean through his leg. you on the other hand, i'm impressed you made it back at all."

your ankle is in a boot and elevated on some pillows, and you can feel your knee is tightly bandaged under the blankets. an ache starts to form in your shoulder at the effort of holding your arm up.

"vantage, i need you to let go of my wrist." she says, and after an awkward pause you free her from your hold.

"sorry doc…" you mumble, bringing both hands up to your face and observing the tiny cuts littering your skin. you let them flop down to your sides again, but the aching doesn't subside.

"how are you feeling?" she breaks the momentary quiet, setting her clipboard down on the table next to your bed, "want me to get you anything?"

"i'd kill for some water…" you wheeze, the dehydration was catching up to you.

"alright, i'll be right back," the doctor affirms, making her way to the door. she turns back to look you in the eyes with a stern expression before she leaves, "please don't go anywhere."

and with that, the door clicks shut and you're left truly alone with your thoughts again.

your bones creak as you push yourself to sit up, your movements sluggish still with exhaustion, and you're reminded of just how badly you were hurt. everything aches, and it feels as though you'd been asleep for years.

gaz was okay, that's a relief. a little insulting that he got shot and was still in better condition than you, but whatever.

you look around the room for something, anything, to take your mind off the pain, and your eyes eventually land on the table beside you. a few cards sat on top, all with some variation of get well soon on the front, along with a small vase of flowers. you pick up the card closest to you and open it to read the scratchy handwriting inside.

'i swear you could survive a nuke, you're like a cockroach! get better soon, lots of love, soap! xxxxx'

what a charmer soap was. you chuckle at his lighthearted message, he always did try to keep your spirits up in times like these. as you place the card back where it was, your gaze is drawn to the empty chair next to your bed. there was a thin blanket folded over the back, probably left by whoever was last sitting there.

your mind begins to wander; how long were you out? your teammates clearly visited, does that mean price did too? you feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him worrying for you, watching over you as you recover. and if he fell asleep at your bedside? the heart monitor might call the doctor back if this train of thought continues. but then again, you doubted he'd be that forward, he would most likely be buried in paperwork like he usually is after a mission. and the mission you just came back from would require more paperwork than most.

because they… left you behind. that's right. you had to walk yourself back to the safehouse on all your injuries. who knows how long you were walking for but it must have been at least ten hours, considering the sun had risen by the time you got there. the butterflies were swiftly melted by the hot anger rising within you.

you were going to give him a piece of your mind, just like you promised.

all thoughts of the pain you were feeling are out of your head as you fling the blanket off your lower body. you grip your injured leg and lift it over the edge of the bed, swinging your other leg to plant both feet on the floor.

just as you were about to pull yourself up to stand, the door opens again and the medic walks in with your water bottle in her hand. she stops, an icy look in her eyes as she observes what you're doing.

you look back at her, debating whether you should give it up and lay back down, but your anger quickly wins over. the heart monitor picks up again as you work yourself up.

"i swear to god, if you don't sit back down right now," she makes her way over, setting the water down on the table you were using as a crutch. you meet her eyes indignantly, and go to step around her anyway. "no! you need to rest!" the doc puts her hands on your shoulders, and she stops your movement embarrassingly easily.

"fuck that," you croak, your voice still hoarse, "where's captain shithead? i need a word."

she maneuvers you back into sitting on the edge of the bed, and hands you the water. you keep your sour expression, but still drink half the bottle in one go.

"i assume you mean captain price? he's in his office, hasn't come out since you all got back." she takes the bottle from you when you're done, setting it down again, before moving to take the iv out of your arm. if she feels your glare, she doesn't acknowledge it. "whatever it is, it can wait."

"yeah right, i got a few strong words for him, and he is gonna hear 'em."

the doc hesitates as she works.

"i don't know exactly what happened out there, but i think you should know… that he hasn't visited you," she speaks softly, watching your angry expression fall. "your other teammates did, i even saw ghost sneaking out of here one night, but you didn't hear that from me."

silence overcame the small room again as her words sunk in. he left you for dead, and now he was avoiding you? even ghost visited you, and you'd barely had a single conversation with him. your heart feels tight again, the same way it did when you were trapped in that building.

"how long was i out?" your voice is low, almost a whisper.

"two days."

you should have listened to all the people who told you loving him was a bad idea. you'd almost died, and he still didn't visit you? that stung. god, you haven't even been awake an hour and you already want to throw up.

i guess i really don't mean that much to him, huh?

you think back to the night before the mission, when you'd sat with john while he did paperwork. at first, he tried to convince you to get some sleep, 

"you wanna be well rested, love."

but you stayed anyway, saying that you'd just sleep on the flight. you would rather spend your nights of insomnia with him anyway.

the two of you had talked for hours that night, about anything that came to mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you finally retreated back to your own quarters. he'd insisted on seeing you back, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night and your room was in the next building over. the way he'd lingered by your door as you said goodnight, you really thought he was going to kiss you then. but he didn't, and you went to sleep with a heavy feeling of disappointment that persevered into the next day.

"i'm sorry vantage." the medic sets something down on the end of the bed, and you turn to look. a pile of your clothes. "i know how you soldiers are, you're gonna get up as soon as i leave no matter what i say, so i'd rather you not walk around in a hospital gown."

she was right.

"...thanks, doc."

despite the overwhelming pain in your heart, you were still about to rip into price.

✹✹✹

you limp out of the infirmary after dressing yourself as quickly as your injuries would allow, which is to say, not very fast. thankfully there weren't any stairs between here and your captain's office, you definitely wouldn't be able to make it up them with your crutch.

the sun was already setting, a pink hue filling the sky as you pushed open the doors of the medical wing. you tried to think as little as possible as you made your way steadily across the courtyard. it would only upset you, and you desperately wanted to be pissed at him. you wouldn't– couldn't– let price see how hurt you were, he probably didn't care anyway. he was just your captain, after all, realistically there was no reason for you to be this upset.

but you were, and the few people you encountered in the corridors could see it written on your face, staying well out of your way as you shuffled past them.

as you stared at the closed door of john's office, your anger wavered. despite the ache in your heart, you considered for a moment that perhaps you were being dramatic. he was your captain, you were just one of his soldiers. it made perfect sense that he'd prioritise the lives of three others over yours alone.

it was his job, and he did it well.

you love john, of course you do, and that's why you're so affected by that fact. maybe you were letting your selfishness get the better of you. honestly, you didn't have a real reason to believe he felt the same way about you. everyone on task force 141 was close, that's the way things are, you couldn't confidently say he treated you differently.

but he was smart. he had to know how you felt, had at least had to know that you don't go out of your way for your other teammates as much as you do for him.

then again, even ghost had visited you while you were out, and you considered yourself much closer to price than him. so maybe he hated you now, he'd finally gotten tired of your poor decision making skills. it was the reason you were in this situation to begin with.

you were just about to abandon the idea of laying into him when price's voice sounded through the door.

"whoever's standin' out there, hurry up and come in, or piss off." he sounded exhausted, his tone blunt with annoyance. it wasn't unusual for him to get like that, especially whilst buried in mind-numbingly boring paperwork, but you could feel something else under the surface of his sharp tone.

well, there goes your last chance to run. you took a moment to steel yourself, to remember that you were in fact angry at him, and open the door with the harshest look you can muster.

he didn't look up as you let the door close behind you, keeping his nose buried in whatever report he was currently scribbling on. his hat was discarded on the desk next to him, and the hand in his hair was keeping it the messiest you'd ever seen it. you breathe in deeply through your nose.

"oh you'd love to get rid of me that easily, wouldn't you?" you spit, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

john's head snaps forward at the sound of your voice, the hand in his hair dropping to his desk, allowing you to finally get a good look at him. his eyes were wide and tired, you could tell the bags under them were darker than the last time you'd looked him in the face.

"vantage…" he spoke with something almost like disbelief, like he couldn't fathom that you were really in front of him. the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes meet yours, and then even further when his gaze falls to your crutch and boot.

fuck, how were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? you channel every ounce of bottled up frustration you have before his blue eyes consume you.

"well unfortunately, i am still alive. not that you give a shit; you got a restraining order on the infirmary or something?"

he murmurs your name– your real name, and as he rises to stand, his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

fuuuuuck.

"what? you leave me for dead, now the cats got your tongue?" you hiss at him, but you can feel the venom leaving your words with every second. the way his expression falls ever so slightly has you regretting what you were saying. you came in here needing to hurt him the way he hurt you, but you were quickly losing your nerve.

"don't do that…" he was almost pleading, as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of you, his piles of paperwork long forgotten. he goes to grasp your elbow, but you pull back before he can touch you. 

"sorry if you've already filled out my death certificate, i'd hate to cause you any more headaches." there was little fight left in your voice now, as you stared each other down in the middle of his office.

in the pause, john screws his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, before fixing you with a hard stare.

"don't. you know i would never've left you if i had any other choice!" it's not anger when he raises his voice, it's desperation; trying to convince himself as well as you. he takes another step towards you, toe to toe now as you lock eyes.

"do i know that? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you couldn't get far enough away from me," you can't help the way your voice cracks, nor can you disguise the hurt when you continue, "even fucking ghost visited me, but not you…"

another beat of silence.

"i couldn't…" john mumbled, eyes showing his mind was somewhere else. your chest tightened; every trace of anger was gone, replaced with the heartache you'd gotten so familiar with when it came to him.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i really thought you cared." you try to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but he grabs your upper arm– successfully this time– to stop you going anywhere. it takes an impressive amount of restraint not to melt at his touch.

"of course i fuckin' care!" he growls, tugging you marginally closer.

your eyes hardened again; of course he did, just not in the way you wanted him to.

you jab your finger into his chest as you speak, your expression sour. "well you could've fooled–"

he grabs your hand as he cuts you off, and you can see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his face turning sharp again.

"bloody hell, just shut up! it killed me to leave without you, y'know that? if it weren't for simon i would've sent 'em back without me! i waited, as long as i could," he wasn't shouting, but you went quiet as if he was, any retaliation you thought of dying on your tongue. john let out a heavy sigh before he continued, "but you didn't come. you were stuck in that building, and then when it went up in fuckin' smoke, what was i supposed to think? i– we called out to you so many times, but you never responded."

the silence between you was heavy. deep down, you had already assumed everything he was telling you, but to actually hear it from his mouth had you choking up in his grasp.

"i…" you tried to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. despite your best efforts, the tears welling up in your eyes were close to spilling over as your gaze fell to the floor.

john sighed again, softer this time, and using the hand on your arm he brought you into his chest, letting go of your hand with his other and wrapping it securely around your back.

you rest your cheek against his chest, bringing your own arms up around his torso, and revelled in the feeling of his embrace. listening to his elevated heartbeat, you wondered if he could feel just how hard yours was beating too.

"when you came crashin' through that door the next mornin', alive, i swear i've never been so relieved. but then you wouldn't wake up, and you were covered in so much blood… i…" his voice breaks, actually breaks, and you try to lift your head to look at him, but his hand on your arm moves up and presses into the back of your head, holding you tight against him. "...i was fuckin' terrified, love." he whispered.

"... why didn't you visit me?" the question you'd been meaning to ask all along, the real reason you had been upset at him.

you feel him press his lips into the top of your head, gently rocking you both where you stand. the crutch falls from your arm, but neither of you make any move to retrieve it.

"i couldn't. i couldn't face you, layin' in that hospital bed, hooked up to all them machines… knowin' it was my fault…"

"Hey, you know it wasn’t…" you murmur with disapproval; as much as you hate to admit it, you dug yourself into that hole.

"fuck, i'm– so fucking sorry love,"

"don't apologise… please, you did what you had to," you lift your head, and you can look him in the face again. his eyes were slightly red; if your heartstrings were pulled anymore they'd surely break. "plus, i was never really mad at you anyway."

he huffs out a small chuckle, his breath fanning over your face, the crease in his brow melting away as your eyes meet, "well ain't that a relief?"

"i thought you were pissed at me, and that's why you didn't visit…" you clear your throat and avoid his gaze, "i mean, i did lock myself in a building full of hostiles… not my finest moment,"

"no. as stupid as you are sometimes, i could never be angry at you." 

"that is a relief."

a quiet overcomes the two of you, standing in eachothers arms as the evening sun casts the room in an orange glow. you wanted to stay like this for the rest of time, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the voice in the back of your head that said this was inappropriate. the way he was talking, holding you, had your hopes high, just like that night before the mission. the one where you went to bed disappointed. it didn't help that you were expecting the let-down now, if anything it only made your heart sink even lower.

you notice that, exactly like you, john was staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. you tilt your head, wordlessly urging him to tell you what's going on. he sighs, scanning the multitude of cuts and scrapes that litter your face, "i promise you, i will never let anything like that happen again, alright?"

"i believe you." you smile softly, and you do; of course you do, you'd trust him with your life. it wasn't something you'd admit out loud, but you would do just about anything if he asked you to.

"i swear, i'm not lettin' you outta my sight." the look on his face has you squirming is his grasp, under the intense gaze he pinned you with.

"alright, i get it," you chuckle, your face heating up at the implication. this was doing nothing for the enormous crush you were harbouring. shuffling backwards slightly, you put enough space between you that you can comfortably rest your hands on his chest.

"i don't think you do, love," you feel his chest rumble as he speaks, and his gaze becomes serious, "i coulda' lost you. i thought i did. fuck, when soap and gaz came outta there without you? i thought my heart'd stopped… i just– i…"

it was rare to see your captain so lost for words. you feel his heart beat faster under your fingertips, the distant look in his eyes giving away the internal debate he was surely having.

"john?"

"if i'm out of order, say the word and we can forget all about this, but vantage…" his voice was low, and you felt your cheeks heat up to a boiling point as he cradled your face with one hand and leaned in closer, chest to chest again. the anticipation and the proximity might just make you sick. "you mean the world to me, i don't know what i'd do with myself if i lost you."

was that… what you thought it was? it sounded an awful lot like a confession, and you really really wanted it to be, but… was it too good to be true?

the lack of a response from you had john pulling back with an uncharacteristic cough that radiated embarrassment. he let go of your face, hovering next to your cheek as if he couldn't bear to let go, and you frown at the absence of his warmth.

"just ignore me, i shouldn't've–" he begins to back-pedel, going to move away from you before you cut him off.

"no!" you exclaim, with a bit more panic than you intended, and grasp his shirt in your fists to keep him close. "i get it, i really do. i- i care about you too, probably a lot more than a teammate should." your face heats up at the admission, and he lights up with surprise. "i think i always have."

slowly, he moves his hand back to its place cupping your jaw, searching your eyes for any signs that he was misinterpreting your response. when he found none, he smiled at you so genuinely you doubted anyone had ever been so sincere towards you.

"yeah?" he murmurs, the slight disbelief gone from his expression but still present in his voice.

"yes, john," you mirror his tone, bringing a hand up to hold the back of his neck. his skin burned hot under your touch.

"well thank god for that," his voice is barely a whisper now, as he draws your lips closer to his. the air separating you felt thick enough to be cut.

you let your eyes fall closed, and with a small burst of confidence, you lean forward and close the final distance between the two of you. he kisses you so tenderly, with so much emotion, it makes your head spin. you sigh into him, tilting your head and pressing yourself impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms at last. all your many months of pining had led up to this moment, and you felt like your heart might just burst. regretfully, you find yourself needing to break away for air, and to your delight he follows your lips as you pull back.

"maybe i should get injured more often, if this is what i get," you breathe, a dazed smile on your face as both your eyes flutter open, and his chest rumbles under your hand with a deep chuckle.

"you better not; i'll have your head if you do, love."

✹✹✹

#john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #price fic #mw2 x reader #price x reader #141 x reader #first fic ive ever posted im scared #dont break my heart pls <3 #roosterr writes

[rrxnjun]

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do. 

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because. 

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor. 

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight. 

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair. 

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place. 

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space. 

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed. 

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…? 

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours  of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea. 

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station. 

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did. 

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory. 

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront. 

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again. 

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase. 

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18. 

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court. 

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend. 

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way. 

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game. 

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years. 

“What about you?” 

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before. 

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much. 

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac. 

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob. 

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road. 

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck. 

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect. 

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next… 

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again. 

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech. 

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun. 

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport. 

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass. 

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago. 

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression. 

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips. 

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it. 

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety. 

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know. 

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him. 

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals. 

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?” 

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms. 

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction. 

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off. 

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all. 

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair. 

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips. 

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side. 

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. 

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair. 

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?” 

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused. 

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding,  “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie. 

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess. 

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair. 

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness. 

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion. 

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future. 

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal. 

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would. 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it. 

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that  even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out. 

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle oneshot #chenle fic #chenle imagine #chenle fanfic #chenle best friends to lovers #chenle au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

[unsolvedjarin]

omg after reading part two of the mentor!seb x ferrari driver!reader fic i NEED something where he actually tries to play matchmaker for reader and mick😭 Like him giving so many hints but reader is just oblivious and Seb decides to take matter into his own hands yk?

Only if you’re open to it ofc! 🥰🥰

BEES, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

pairing: (mick schumacher x driver! reader) (mentor! sebastian vettel x reader)

note: HEY. i havent written anything in weeks and its been KILLING me. ive been so burnt out lately its crazy, but seeing seb in suzuka did give me a bit of motivation (although this is more of a mick-centric fic, my boy deserves it.) anyways sorry for letting this stew for so long anon, hopefully i can write more soon ive missed it tbh

summary: suzuka finds itself not only an interesting spot for bee hotels, but for reunions and confrontations as well.

content warning: none, except its a little all over the place and once again i havent grammar checked this im so sorry it’s three in the morning

previous part, but can be read without <3

When Sebastian invited the grid to his bee hotel opening, he expected maybe five or six people to come, but not this.

Everyone was coming.

And by everyone, I mean everyone. The drivers, the reserves, even the team principals, had all confirmed their appearance for the event. Sebastian knew he was loved by the grid, but the thought of all of them coming together for him still made his heart swell.

It was one in the afternoon, just thirty minutes before they were about to actually start the event. While the participation of the drivers were confirmed, they were still coming in one by one, some later than the others. Sebastian was in a particularly interesting conversation with Fernando about flowers when a poke to his shoulder captured his attention.

He turned around to find you, standing there behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with excitement you couldn’t contain. It was the first time you’ve seen each other since Silverstone, and even then you barely had time to talk to each other.

Before he could say anything, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight that Sebastian thought he would lose oxygen— but he still hugged you back with equal enthusiasm.

“Sebastian!” you screamed, being spun around once by the man. He missed you so much. Sebastian wasn’t particularly the greatest texter, and calling wasn’t something you were fond of, so besides the occasional visit you barely talked.

“Y/N, I thought you’d never come,” he says with a grin. He knew you were coming, of course. You would never miss out on this. You give him a playful shove, before giving Fernando a quick hug as well. In the year Seb has been gone, you had gotten closer with the Aston Martin driver who replaced him.

Fernando excuses himself quickly after, knowing you and Sebastian had some catching up to do. “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me with him,” Sebastian jokes the second the Spaniard was out of earshot.

“Why, are you jealous?” you teased. He scoffs in reply, but you could hear the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t worry Seb, while I love his talk about flowers, you talking my ear off about bees still appeals to me more.”

That makes him smile.

“I’m glad you prefer my infodumping, then.”

The fact that you taught him that term makes your grin even wider. “Anytime.”

You wanted to talk with him more, to tell him how you’ve been doing the past few months, but before you could, some PR person swooped in to film some videos with him.

“Ah, sorry liebling,” Sebastian sighs. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “One thing I haven’t missed are these media hungry people.”

You stifle a giggle, before nudging him away from you. “Go on, it’s your event, this is your own doing.”

He rolls his eyes but walks away nonetheless, following the person from the media. Before he moves out of earshot, however, he shouts, “Oh by the way, Mick is here! Don’t be shy, go talk to him.”

Oh the bastard.

Half the grid must have heard that. You look at him with shock and a light blush on your cheeks but are met only with a cheeky grin from the man before he turns around to fully walk away.

Admittedly though, he was right. You hadn’t been talking to Mick much. You had a few lunches with him after Seb retired but without his third wheeling company, it just felt awkward to go out with the reserve driver one on one. You started thinking he just ate with you because he felt bad for you or something of the sort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snaps you out of your thinking.

“Jesus! Lewis, don’t give me a heart attack like that.”

The Mercedes driver laughs before replying, “Sorry, you just looked tense. Thinking about the race?”

“Not really, just some other stuff.”

“Like what? Like Mick?”

You almost choked on your own saliva right there and then. “Wh- what? What would— haha— make you think that? No that’s crazy, I’m just thinking about the bees! Yeah, because like the bee hotel and stuff I love b—”

“Sebastian wasn’t really quiet talking to you just then, you know.” He comments, cutting you off.

“Oh I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt it, you’ve missed him too much these past months to kill him immediately.”

“Touché, maybe I’ll wait a few more then.”

“Stop avoiding the question, why’re you thinking about Mick?” Lewis asks, not giving the topic up. Oh what the hell, Sebastian trusts him right? So you could trust him.

Thinking of how you could word your thoughts properly, you start, “I kinda— I dunno— I mean he’s a nice guy, he’s pretty sweet, and we’re friends obviously so it’d be—”

“You like him don’t you.” Lewis cuts you off for the second time in a row.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he sighs, letting it linger for a moment. “That’s crazy.”

A beat of silence passes. “You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Say anything else about what?” Sebastian butts in your conversation, clearly just having finished his short interview. He takes his place beside you, scooching in between you and Lewis instead of taking up the free space on the other side.

“Oh, Y/N was just talking about how she likes Mick.”

“Was not!” You exclaim.

“Was too,” Lewis retorts. His teasing never ceased to amuse and annoy you at the same time.

“I think I’m going to believe Lewis on this one. After all, you did tell me, and I quote, you ‘sorta have a little maybe crush’ on Mick.”

You hang your mouth agape incredulously before slapping Seb on the arm, “I told you that in confidence!”

Seb laughs before defending himself, “Well Lewis knows now! Besides, it’s not like you’ve been that discrete about it.”

You look at Lewis who shrugs in reply, “It’s true. Pretty obvious when a Ferrari driver keeps hanging around the Mercedes garage, mate.”

Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. There’s no point in keeping it secret from Lewis now, you think. Putting your head in your hands, you groan, “That’s the problem! I’m always at the Mercedes garage talking to you or Toto or even George but never him!”

“Well why don’t you…talk to him?”

“Great advice Sherlock, gee, got any more good ones for me?” You ask Sebastian sarcastically. While you and Seb banter though, Lewis recalls a conversation he had with Mick one late night back in Singapore.

“Hey Lew, was Y/N here earlier?”

Lewis, who was packing up to go home, redirects his focus to the only remaining guy in the garage save for a few engineers. “Yeah, she visited right after the race to congratulate me. Why’re you looking for her?”

“Oh nothing, just asking.” Mick replies, fiddling with his hands. Even in his tired state, Lewis could tell that there was more the young driver wasn’t saying.

“C’mon, spit it out.” Lewis says, taking a seat on a random chair and patting the one beside him for Mick to take a seat. The younger driver hesitates for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than anyone. Do you know what happened when Alonso crashed his McLaren back in 2015?”

“No, what?”

“Exactly,” Lewis replies with a grin. “So what is it?”

“I…” Mick sighs, unable to find the right words for what he was trying to say. “I think I like Y/N.”

There, it’s out in the open, he thinks. Mick waits for a reply from Lewis, but gets none. “Hello?”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay, this is starting to scare me.”

Lewis finally snaps out of his trance-like state, before getting up and continuing to pack up his things. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well I thought it’d be something more secretive,” he says, putting up bunny ears.

“It is secretive,” Mick replies, mocking Lewis’ bunny ears. “No one knows.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that mate. I mean if you exclude Sebastian, Fernando, Toto, and myself, then sure, no one knows.”

Oh shit. Was he that obvious? “How- how did you all figure it out?”

“Well for one, if constantly tailing Sebastian and Y/N last year was your attempt at being discreet, then it was a horrible attempt. Second, you need to stop turning red and running away whenever she’s at the garage giving out food and what not. I can’t keep asking her for extra donuts for you forever, you know?”

Mick blushed slightly at the comment, not realizing how every time you came around to the garage he’d been unwillingly avoiding you out of fear you wouldn’t want to talk to him.

Lewis pats Mick on the back, getting ready to leave. “Listen man, if I were you, I’d make a move. That opportunity won’t last forever, plus, it seems like they like you back. Didn’t you guys go out together just the two of you a couple of times?”

Mick shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I think she did that just because she felt bad for me being alone in the grid and because she missed Sebastian.”

Lewis internally rolled his eyes. He’s seen the way you look at Mick, there’s no way you didn’t like him too. “You have to stop doubting yourself. I mean the worst she can do is say no, right?”

“The worst she can do is avoid me for the rest of my life because I misread all the signs and she actually hates me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lewis replied sarcastically, before murmuring a goodbye and leaving the garage.

That was weeks ago now, but the conversation was still stuck in Lewis’ head. He’d been right all along, you did like Mick back.

“Hey Seb, can I talk to you in private really quickly?” He speaks up, making you and the retired driver stop your bantering for a moment.

“You can say it in front of Y/N, it’s fine.” Seb replied. He trusted you completely with anything and everything.

“Well not if it’s about her.”

“Hey!” you complain. “Are you openly gossiping about me?”

“Listen, if you want our help, then let us huddle for a minute.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and nod at them. You really really liked Mick, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So if these two old twats could help you, then so be it.

Lewis pulls Seb to the side for a moment, inhaling deeply before talking softly so you couldn’t hear. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mick told me he likes Y/N.”

Sebastian whips his head to face Lewis, “Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going out with us all the time last year for no reason.”

“Yeah, he’s not so discreet. Here’s the problem though, he firmly believes Y/N may hate him, and you know that Y/N believes Mick only likes her as a friend.”

“So what you’re saying is they’re both hopeless?”

“Without our help, basically yes.”

“God I can’t believe they haven’t caught a clue,” Sebastian sighs. “I even excused myself from multiple meals so I could leave the two of them alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re telling me mate, I basically had to shove Mick towards her whenever she was at the garage or in hospitality.”

Meanwhile, while the two men were devising on their own, you were getting antsy. What could they possibly be coming up with? You didn’t really want to think about it too much, so you decided to take a walk around the track. After all, the event was about to start, so you might as well familiarize yourself with your surroundings.

You went through the unpainted bee hotels, admiring their woodwork and the effort it must’ve taken to make them. Sebastian had sent you a text at three in the morning yesterday saying “Finished! :-)” with a picture of the bee hotels attached, so you knew he put hard work into this project. You were happy that he was doing something he loved while retired, but at the same time you missed him terribly on the grid. It was lonely, you will admit, without him by your side. Sure you had your teammate Charles and the support of your fellow drivers, but it never felt like anyone truly knew you on the track besides Seb.

Stuck in your thoughts, you failed to notice the man who was walking up behind you mustering the courage to strike a conversation. You turn around to check out another bee hotel when you bump straight into Mick walking up to you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Ow—” you hold your head in pain, which you bumped into the bee hotel roof when you recoiled backwards from the hit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Great, Mick thought. Now what?

You’ve made a fool of yourself, congratulations, you thought.

Sebastian was about to walk over to see what all the commotion was about, when Lewis put a hand out and stopped him. “Look who bumped into her.”

Sebastian squinted a little— his eyesight had gotten worse but he refused to get glasses— and grins when he realizes who it is. “Best leave them to it then, I have an event to organize anyways.”

Meanwhile, Mick had no clue what to do. You were holding your head in pain, with your eyes closed trying to regain stability from the dizziness, and he was just standing there awkwardly trying to figure out what the right move was. Should he ask you again if you were alright? Should he hold you to stabilize you?

Well, why not both. Without thinking, he holds your shoulders, crouching down a little to look you in your eye, and asking a simple “You okay?”

You open your eyes, squinting because of the sun, and are met with a set of beautiful blue ones staring at you. Holy fucking shit. Now you don't know what to do.

“Uh— yeah, just hit my head. No biggie honestly, all good here,” you reply awkwardly. God, was it this hard to talk to him when Sebastian was around?

Mick lets go of your shoulders— you miss his touch already— and straightens up, nodding. “Good. Sorry for hitting you, I thought you heard me walking up.”

“No, it’s my fault honestly. Was stuck in my own thoughts. Nice that you pulled me out,” you joked, praying to whatever higher power was listening that it stuck.

Thankfully it did, and Mick let out a small giggle at your quip. It was enough for your stomach to do flips. And even though you had no clue, you joking around with him made his stomach do the same thing too. The simple interaction was enough to make him think that maybe you weren’t just hanging around with him before because you pitied him.

“You know,” Mick starts, before he loses confidence to breach the topic. He was here anyway, so might as well. “You’re always at the Mercedes garage but I never see you. I am sorry about that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? You were the one who avoided him out of nervousness whenever you were there.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, honestly, that’s my fault anyway. Same with our lunches before, I’m sorry we did those less and less. I guess I got too caught up in the races. We should have another one here in Japan!” You add the last part haphazardly, not really thinking about what you’re saying because if you do you’ll lose confidence.

It was too late when you realized what you said, and terrified to see Mick’s reaction to the invitation, you stare at anything but him. Wow, the sky was blue today. How interesting.

Mick, on the other hand, was frozen on the spot. Did he hear that correctly? Were you inviting him to lunch for the first time in months?

Before the reserve driver could get his hopes up, however, he realized what was different this time. Sebastian was around.

Oh. Maybe that was the only reason you invited him this time around. Because, again, like before, you felt sorry for him being alone and you had the confidence to ask him because Sebastian was here.

“Would…Sebastian be coming?” He asked. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he begged God at that moment you would say no. He had nothing against the retired driver of course, he was like an uncle to him, but it would determine— for him at least— if you were going out with him out of pity or because you actually wanted to.

You, on the other hand, had a completely different interpretation of that question.

Did Mick not want to have lunch with you without Sebastian because he didn’t want to spend time with you? Did he feel like you were too awkward? Too weird? You stopped yourself before you could spiral even more.

“I mean, do you want him to?”

“Honestly? No.” Mick hears himself say without thinking. His eyes widened a bit at the fact that he said that aloud, making you giggle. It lifts the tension a bit and the air feels freer talking to him.

“Tsk tsk, I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Please don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. I just meant—” Mick pauses for a second, finding it difficult to word his thoughts.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it all. “I want it to be you, just you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.” Before Mick can regret saying anything and repeatedly apologize for the implications of what he said, you tug on his shirt a little to get him to look at you. “Me too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, laughing a bit at himself. “Thank god, I thought I made the wrong move there.”

“God no,” you laugh out. “I’m glad you said that honestly, I thought you just hung out with me before for Sebastian.”

Mick raised his eyebrows in confusion. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? “I thought you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad I was alone without Seb.”

This time you both look at each other, confused. You had both gotten it completely wrong.

The absurdity of it all makes you burst out laughing, and you try to cover it up with your hand but to no avail. “I’m sorry I just— ha!— I can’t believe I’ve been reading it wrong this whole time! I even avoided you in the garages because I thought you felt awkward around me.”

“I hid whenever you were at the garage because I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me,” Mick replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, I suppose I wouldn’t ever know if you liked talking to me or not if I kept avoiding you.”

“Hold on, is that why Lewis always asked for extra food when I came around?”

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling embarrassed. It all felt so foolish now.

“That was stupid,” you tease. “So…what now?”

“I suppose we can just,” Mick gestures aimlessly with his hands. “Restart.”

You smile at him, liking the simplicity of the idea. After dancing around each other for a year, this is exactly what you wanted. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“What you were saying earlier, lunch? I know a good place. It’s pretty far from the track, but they have the best ramen and— hello Seb…?”

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian had slowly inched himself closer to where you two were standing, trying to overhear your conversation. He was now stood a few meters away from you, pretending to be taking care of his bee hotel.

“You sneaky bastard!” you exclaim, slapping him on his shoulder for the second time that day. “How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“I just got here!” Sebastian replied, trying to defend himself. He’d actually been standing there for a couple minutes, but if none of you had noticed, then it was better for him to not bring it up. “Anyway, I came to say we’re starting the event. Charles is looking for you at the Ferrari station, Y/N.”

Sebastian moves to leave, but turns back around, standing beside you. “And Mick, if it’s no bother, you could come with me and Y/N to Disneyland on Tuesday. Only if you’d like, of course.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?” You ask, but a quick glance at Sebastian's expression and you realize what he was trying to do. “Oh! Yeah, we totally planned on going to Disneyland. You should come with us.”

“Yeah! Sure, I have nothing to do anyways. And lunch on Monday, Y/N?” Mick replies. You give him a soft smile and nod in response.

Seb looks at you in confusion, “Am I part of these lunch plans?”

“No.”

“Great to know. Anyways, to the Ferrari station liebe, chop chop,” Seb retorts, putting his arm around you to pull you towards the station. As much as he wanted you and Mick to talk more, he also wanted his event to get going.

“Talk later!” you shout, being practically dragged by Sebastian. Mick laughs at the sight, waving a goodbye to you and the retired driver. He felt like he won the lottery. You might not like him the way he liked you, but this was a start. This meant that you hung around him for him.

“Was the plan you and Lewis came up with simply inviting Mick to go to Disneyland?” You ask, the second you were far away enough from Mick.

Sebastian shrugs, “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh you pricks. Thank God I didn’t rely on you two then.”

“Hey! We tried,” Seb remarked. “But we saw you two getting along without our help so we decided to leave you two to it. What did you even talk about?”

“Our shared hatred for you,” you replied with no hesitation. You look over at Sebastian with a grin, watching him roll his eyes, smiling.

“Well if that’s what it took for you two to talk, then I’d happily be the butt of your conversations.”

God. Why did he have to be so nice about it? “I’m just kidding Seb, we just cleared up some misunderstandings. Honestly we should’ve talked sooner, it was such a relief to find out I’d just been overthinking our interactions.”

“Like you do with half of all things, schatz,” Sebastian says softly, smiling at you. He was right, you did overthink too much.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m trying to change.”

“That’s great, but you know what you should try first before that?” Seb asks with a playful look on his face. He comes to a stop in front of a bee hotel and grabs a paintbrush from beside it, putting it in your hands. “You should try participating in the event.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you mutter, grinning. You didn’t even notice you had walked all the way to the Ferrari station until then. You greet Charles, who was already there, before facing Sebastian again. “Still can’t believe you and Lewis’ plan was just Disneyland. Remind me to never trust you ever again.”

“Love you too,” Seb retorts sarcastically, grinning as he walks away to assist the other drivers. You shake your head with a smile, before facing the bee hotel again. Cheeky bastard.

Sebastian and Lewis had planned more than just Disneyland of course, they weren’t stupid. But the first phase of their plan was complete. Sebastian smiled to himself as he watched Mick talking to Lewis at the Mercedes station, ready to operate the second part of their ‘genius’ plan.

It was going to be a long, interesting week for all of them.

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #a tiny crumb as in the tiniest of vettonso #because i can #writing

[heartpascal]

when the sun goes down

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does

▹— a/n: this one might be kinda ,, weird?? idk if i like how ive written it!! its kinda different to my usual fics !!! + the ending is kinda funky idk

▹— warnings: fem!reader (she/her used), reader is dead , mention of reader getting infected , grief, loss, guilt, lots of angst, small mention of suicidal ideation, referenced murder, mother tess, father joel, uncle tommy, ellie asking inappropriate questions tbh, think that’s everything but let me know!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear (pedro)

masterlist

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When Joel had been a stranger, Ellie would have never even had the thought to guess that you or Sarah had existed. The man seemed… too stoic, too unbothered, or perhaps, too bothered. She was never really sure what Joel was, back then.

But over the weeks, then the months, and then the years of knowing Joel Miller, it had become increasingly obvious that there was a distinctive daughter-shaped gap within him. It had left a cavernous space in the man, which Ellie had done her very best to fill, even if she would never have admitted it to anyone.

It was clear in the way Joel had tied up her hair when she was sick, in the way he knew exactly what she needed to hear, even when she didn’t know herself. It was obvious in the way he responded to her argumentative nature, her spitting words, his protective behaviour.

Ellie hadn’t even really thought about it, until the day she and Joel arrived at Jackson, until Maria revealed what the two names on that chalkboard meant. After that, it all started to make sense, and she had finally believed that she understood Joel Miller in some deeper way, in a way that actually mattered. She didn’t think about what she was doing back when she had argued with Joel, when she had spluttered out, “I’m not her, you know.”

Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, back then, and Ellie hadn’t known at the time that when she had said her, Joel didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.

Either way, he made it clear that Ellie shouldn’t be mentioning anybody Joel had lost. Certainly not you or Sarah, or even Tess.

After the whole… hospital fiasco, Ellie wasn’t sure she had ever understood Joel, after all. She’d been numb, to some extent, when she and Joel had finally made it back to Jackson, back to Tommy and Maria’s warm house, with their surprisingly peaceful baby. The first time she had visited their house, she hadn’t even noticed your name up on the chalkboard, a new addition, one without any dates below it, but written with as much care as the others.

It was the second, or the third time, maybe, that Ellie noticed the brand new name up on the chalkboard in Maria’s living room. She had been even more hesitant to talk about it than she had been to talk about Sarah and Kevin, so Ellie had figured that the loss was fresh. She hadn’t asked again, for a very long time.

Tommy, unsurprisingly, had been the one to tell her. A long day after a nightly patrol had the man exhausted, and he was two glasses of booze in when he had seen Ellie squinting up at the chalkboard as she was around for dinner.

“He ever tell you about her?” Tommy asked, fresh glass of booze gripped in his fist as he settled down on the sofa, looking up at the board with something numb in his eyes.

Ellie had said your name like a question, eyes scanning between the board and Tommy with furrowed brows. At Tommy’s nod, Ellie had shook her head, turning to Tommy like a child ready for story time before bed.

Tommy took another sip of his drink, sucking his teeth before he finally spoke. “He never told me what happened to her,” He said, eyes fixed on the board as if information might appear. “But I figure he must blame himself, whatever happened. She was fine when I left, but I’m guessing gone by the time you were around.” Tommy continued, looking to Ellie, who nodded. “Don’t know when exactly it happened. He’s real tight lip about it, even more so than he is about Tess, but I don’t blame him. She was his second chance.”

“Second chance?” Ellie repeated, eyebrows raised.

Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Found her not long after the Outbreak. She took to Joel straight away, poor kid. After Sarah, he was… different, but Joel, he looked after that girl like nobody else would’a.”

Some of the things Joel had done or said made a lot more sense to Ellie, in light of this information. You had been Joel’s second chance at protecting his daughter, his redemption, and he had failed. It was no surprise, in that case, that he had been as protective as he had. Or that he had tried to dump Ellie with Tommy, back when they first got to Jackson.

Joel believed he was a failure.

It was quite the realisation for Ellie.

She noticed more, after that. Like the way Joel would stop in the street when he saw people who must have held a certain resemblance to you or to Sarah. Or the way he would stay up late into the night, staring blankly at the darkening world around him as he sat on the porch. Ellie noticed just how much effort Joel put into looking after her, as if afraid that something could happen to her, or she could just disappear. She also noticed the way his eyes lingered on Tommy’s chalkboard, each time they visited.

Ellie thought that maybe, some day, Joel would wind up talking about you on his own. But days passed, and then weeks, and then they’d been staying in Jackson for close to two years, and nothing.

If it hadn’t had been for Joel sticking his nose into Ellie’s business, she probably would’ve never even revealed to him that she knew of your existence. Or at least, your connection to him. But Joel Miller was nothing if not stubborn, and when Ellie had been down for more than two days in a row, he stopped minding his business.

Joel was all comforting words in the face of a preventable loss on a patrol, and Ellie was sick of it.

“It ain’t your fault, kiddo. Nobody blames you for what happened, and you oughta talk about it to somebody.” Joel had said, voice warm and concerned like any father might be, and Ellie couldn’t help but snap after the day she’d had.

“It’s always one thing for you and then another for me, Joel!” She said, baring her teeth at the man, who only looked as confused as ever. “I’m sick of it. Stop telling me things that you know aren’t true, just because you feel guilty!”

His arms had been crossed defensively over his chest at her words, his eyebrows furrowing, the crease between them more prominent than ever. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice gruff and warning, as opposed to the previous tone he had been taking with her. He was practically daring her to go on with what she was insinuating.

“That you want to believe your kids dying wasn’t on you! And that’s great, Joel, but this was on me. It was my fault.” Ellie had spat out, arms wide out by her side, their stances opposing one another. She was accepting her guilt, acknowledging it, realising it was true, where Joel had only ever taken the blame, lugging the guilt along with him for years as if hoping it could disappear.

He had been sure, for a moment, that Ellie had taken to physical blows, but he realised in the silence which had followed her words that the pain was all him. She was right, which to Joel, was the real kicker. He had a knack for projecting onto people, for being defensive over guilt as if it reflected his own. As if, somehow, Ellie being guilty meant that Joel certainly was, too.

Maybe Ellie was right, but even if she was, Joel was in no mindset to admit it. How could he? He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about you, too scared that Ellie would see him for what he truly was; a failure. How would Ellie have responded to that? It was the exact reason he hadn’t told her the truth about the hospital, about what he had done, about the lengths he would go to. She might have seen him violent before, but never to that extent. Never against people she cared for.

If he told Ellie the truth, he would have to admit that he had failed a third child. Perhaps not quite in the same way as he had failed you and Sarah, but in some capacity, he would lose her, too.

Joel had been a selfish man for a very long time, by then. It was no surprise that he opted for the path that would allow him to keep the only child he had left. Who could blame him? Even Tommy, in some strange way, had understood his actions. Especially after his baby had been born, Tommy couldn’t blame Joel for doing what was necessary.

A parent’s love for their child was unrelenting. And Joel took that sentiment very seriously.

But Ellie couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t.

So, in that moment, he had levelled her with a look that put all parental glares to shame. “Go to your room.” Joel had instructed, voice flat, cold. Ellie, in her shock, had done as she was told, which was unusual.

This time, however, when Joel told Tommy of what had occurred, his brother hadn’t agreed with his actions.

When Tommy explained that Ellie didn’t know about you, or about Sarah, and certainly didn’t understand the relationship the two of you had had with Joel, he could see how she could’ve said something so… distasteful. After all, Joel had never told Ellie exactly what had happened to Sarah, let alone to you. Hell, he didn’t speak about you at all. He didn’t want Ellie to believe that he would fail her next.

But the talk was overdue, and the silence in the house had been suffocating Joel, and he noticed how uncomfortable Ellie had been, too. So he had no choice but to steel himself, to grip a mug of coffee, give up on slowing his heart rate.

When Ellie walked through the door, having been out with her friends all day, she stopped short at seeing Joel sat on the couch, looking more stressed than she had seen him in a long, long time. “Sit down.” Joel said, his words catching and tumbling out, as he gestured towards the armchair opposite the couch.

Surprisingly, she sat. “Is everything… okay?” She asked, hesitantly.

“I think it’s time I have a talk with you,” Joel admitted, his fingers squeezing the mug tightly. “You were right.”

“As always.” Ellie responded instantly, an instinctive response that generated a scoff of laughter from Joel, soothing his stressed brow the slightest amount. She cringed, but relaxed at his expression. “About what, exactly?”

“About it being one thing for me, and another for you. It’s not fair of me to ask you to talk about things, if I don’t talk right back to you.” Joel said, slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts before he fumbled another important father-daughter talk, as he had done many times before. “I’m goin’ to tell you about my girls.”

“Joel, you really don’t—”

He interrupted, “No, I do. And I want to.”

Ellie nodded after a moment, settling down in her chair, finally placing her backpack by her feet. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel repeated. He took a deep breath, squeezing the coffee mug once more. He said your name, the syllables almost unfamiliar for how long it had been since he had said it. “She, well, I—… She got Infected, ‘bout six years ago.”

Ellie sucked in a harsh breath, sure she knew what had happened after that. It was a story she knew, all too well. Joel scratched at the hair on his cheek, grinding his teeth together. Remembering it all, remembering you was… hard. But it was also refreshing. As if showing the parts of you he’d held to his chest for so long was a weight, lifted from his shoulders.

He didn’t want to talk about that part, about the time he failed you, about what he’d done for you, but other things? He could talk about those.

Joel remembered the years he had spent with you, watching you grow, spending weeks of his life searching for gifts for every assumed birthday. He remembered teaching you how to read, gifting you books, helping you learn how to survive. He remembered the bond you’d shared with Tess, the time the two of them would spend doing your hair for you, with whatever supplies they could manage.

Telling Ellie about you was probably the most vulnerable Joel had ever been with her. It was certainly the most open he had been. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had his heart stitched onto his sleeve.

There was so many memories of you, so many he’d kept to himself for years because Tess had never been able to talk about you, because he couldn’t bring himself to, either. He worried about memories he had forgotten, about how much of your face had faded into obscurity, about how inaccurately he recalled your laugh, your voice.

He thought that, perhaps, his very worst fear would be that if he let go of these memories, if he let other people look upon them alongside him, he’d forget. Joel wasn’t sure he could be open and hold on tight enough. What was too much? How much could he say before he forgot it all? How much would he remember if he didn’t analyse them in his mind? If he let Ellie listen to the moments he held most dear?

Joel didn’t want to forget.

But if he didn’t tell anybody, then who would remember you, after Joel was gone?

There was Tommy, he’d considered, but he knew Tommy’s memories were corrupted, taken over by Firefly nostalgia. No, despite Joel’s being older, his memories of you were certain to be more reliable.

“Here,” Joel said, eventually, his throat feeling tight with the effort of holding back tears. He pulled out a folded up print, one he had gotten out just that afternoon. It was crumpled and degraded with age, but the image remained true. “This is her.”

Ellie took the photo from his hands, the image being of you. It was taken when you were a kid, back when he’d first found you, back when FEDRA had been doing photographs, before all of the printing supplies ran out. It wasn’t a happy picture by any means, merely an image of you, stood in front of a white background with a scared look on your face, dirt smeared across your nose, but it was you. And to Joel, that was enough.

He much preferred to think of you that way, rather than your last moments. It was the only thing that allowed him to let go of that last picture of you, the one that haunted his mind.

When Tess had died, the only thing that gave Joel some peace was the belief that she would have reunited with you. That you wouldn’t be alone, anymore. Often times, in the events after your… well, after he lost you, Joel had considered following you down that path. He had prayed to the God he had once believed in, he had cried out for any divine interference to stop what had happened from being true. But no matter how much he prayed, how much he cried, you were gone.

You had given him a purpose, after Sarah. Joel doesn’t think he would’ve made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you. And it feels so… wrong. He thinks, now, that Ellie had provided him with a purpose, after you.

“So, you raised her in the apocalypse?” Ellie asked, looking down at the photograph fondly, running a thumb along the yellowing picture.

“That I did.”

“Lucky kid.” Ellie said, not nastily.

“I dunno, kiddo, I’ve not always been the best…” Joel trailed off, unsure if he could actually refer to himself as your dad, after everything. After what he had done. Or, rather, what he hadn’t. “We did our best, me and Tess. Hell, even Tommy pitched in.” Joel decided on, after a moment.

He remembered the times Tommy would agree to look after you, to babysit, if such a thing existed in the apocalypse. Usually, it was when he and Tess were going outside of the QZ for supplies, occasionally for the Fireflies, which was why Tommy was allowed time away from his war against FEDRA.

One such time, Joel recalled, he and Tess had returned back to the ransacked apartment they had been assigned to find you and Tommy curled up on the decaying couch, which had only one cushion, asleep. A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders, and Tommy had your newest book held in his lap.

In that moment, Joel had so wished that he could’ve taken a picture. He remembered a picture of almost the same scene, of Tommy and Sarah on the couch in his old house, in front of a still-playing TV. He regretted not taking the photo albums when they left, back then. Even now, he often felt a pang of regret over how much of Sarah’s memory was reliant on his own.

“Tess raised her with you?” Ellie questioned, almost surprised, but she could remember the way Tess had acted almost… maternal. Not to mention her optimism, her hope, when there was a possibility of a cure. She wondered if that was because of what had happened to you.

Joel nodded, going on to tell the tale of Tess teaching you how to shoot, when you became old enough to handle a gun, when it became apparent that you would need to handle one. He remembered how you had missed all but one shot by your second lot of ammo. He remembered how frustrated you had been, how Tess had told you to suck it up and try again, with that good old no-nonsense attitude.

Ellie could almost imagine Tess saying that, could almost picture how annoying that must’ve been for you as a kid. It was almost amusing to try and picture Joel and Tess raising a child in the apocalypse, especially given how the two had been when she had met them, herself. She tried to imagine that Tess being a mother, but came up empty.

“Did she, y’know, call you dad, or whatever?” Ellie asked Joel, after a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if that was inappropriate to ask, but she was curious. She couldn’t imagine calling Joel ‘dad’ to his face, even though he was the only father she had ever known.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“Dad!” You yelled, jumping up from the couch and away from Tommy, successfully waking him up in the process. You stumbled your way to the door as Joel swung it open, already dropping his bag to the floor. He was used to the greeting party, but you didn’t often shout him, in fact — did you ever? And since when did you call him ‘dad’? “You’re home! Did you get it?” You asked, jumping into his awaiting arms.

Joel squeezed you tightly, feeling a mixture of guilty and relieved that he was glad to be back, to come home to the child he had yet to fail. He thought about where you could have learnt that word, that name from, and could only come up with the new books Tommy had been helping you with while he and Tess had been away.

“‘Course I got it,” Joel responded, his voice gruff but full of warmth and humour. “Who d’you take me for?” He asked, grinning at your laughter and the way you squirmed from his hold to get to the backpack he’d dropped beside his feet.

“What’re we reading next, then?” Tommy asked, drawing Joel’s attention over towards the sofa, where his younger brother was smiling fondly. You hurried over, attention easily drawn away, and showed Tommy the book you’d taken from Joel’s bag, the one he’d managed to scrounge on his journey outside with Tess.

Joel was quickly drawn from his memories of the journey by you calling out to him once more. “Dad, are you coming to read with us, or not?” You asked, exasperated, and Joel grinned as he came over, his heart aching in his chest at the name, at the nostalgia of the activity.

“You bet.”

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“She did.” Joel answered, after a moment of him being distracted, thinking of that very first time, thinking of the way he had fallen back into the title with such familiarity. He wondered if you would have been much like Sarah, had you been born before the apocalypse. Sometimes, he wondered that about Ellie. Often, he had to remind himself that you and Ellie weren’t his biological kids, and if it wasn’t for the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have had you.

He doesn’t like the way his chest aches at the thought of that. It might just be the only reason he’s grateful for the apocalypse that had ruined the world.

“She would’a liked you, y’know.” Joel said, almost absentmindedly, as if that comment didn’t make Ellie’s chest warm with appreciation, with pride. As if it didn’t make her wish that she could’ve met you, could’ve proved that comment correct.

“I think I would’ve liked her, too.” Ellie said, quietly, watching the way Joel reminisced, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the photo she still held. He smiled after a moment, and she was sure he was imagining what his life would’ve been like, had all of his kids met.

#heartpascal writes #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x platonic!f!reader #tlou fic #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou angst #tlou fluff #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x platonic!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller angst #tommy miller imagine #tommy miller one shot #tommy miller fluff

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Fan. - E.W.

a/n: Hi! This is the first one shot i have ever written so i would appreciate some feedback in the comments please! (but pls be nice) This is ur average ao3 coded fic with no proofread and bad grammar to ease you in to what i plan on posting if all goes well!

summary - jackson au where basically the entire pt.2 never happened, Ellie is older, Joel is alive. Instead of falling for Dina, Ellie has a fascination with a girl (you) that swims at the local creek near jackson.

( I imagine farm ellie looks here bc im a mullet enthusiast )

warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY mdni, smut, kissing, mentions of sex, fingering (r receiving), service top! ellie, sub! reader, oral (r receiving), pet names,

word count : 8.5K (I KNOW SHE’S A BIT HEFTY BUT ITS WORTH IT IMO)

Jackson summers were painfully hot. Maybe it was the effects of the extensive bombing that took place when everything went to shit. Or maybe it was just living in the apocalypse that made everything unbearable. Everything was out to kill you, including the heat. Great.

You could cut the air with a knife. In this time of scarce recourses there wasn’t a lot of remedies people could access to alleviate the sheer heat that surrounded them. There was an occasional establishment in city limits that was graced with a limited amount of air conditioning. (In summers jackson preserved the generators for more important things) Although it never really stayed cool for long anyways because every citizen that wasn’t on patrol or working an assigned shift could be found in one of these buildings.

Fans were like gold during these times. If you were lucky to have one it was most likely scored on patrol, which was rare. So whatever chance you got, you found yourself at a creek just outside of jacksons walls to cool down. It was a flowing stream that kept cool year round, surrounded with trees and engulfed in shade from the sun.

Lots of people your age could be found there during these excruciating summer days. Mostly young adults, those old enough to be assigned on patrol with the exception of the occasional teenager. It was a safe space for younger people to get away from the effects that summer had on authority figures of jackson. To be fair the heat made everyone a little irritable, but you could only take so much.

You had almost made it to your sacred spot before a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey there little minnow” A soft but somewhat gruff voice states behind you.

You must have been so consumed with getting to your destination that you had failed to hear the footsteps of your fairly recently acquainted swimming partner close behind you.

It wasn’t an intentional initial meet cute, one day while you were enjoying your solitude she emerged from the trees. Her eyes were wondering in search of something but when they landed on you in the water, the curious stare faded and she asked if she could join you. You Accepted.

She wasn’t always there when you were but you had begun to notice that she has been attending the spot more frequently the past few weeks. You never said many words to each other, both using this time as more of a solitary escape than a social vacation. You couldn’t deny though, she had a presence that felt intimidating…yet comforting? So you never dismissed her. Maybe just admired observed her unique demeanor from a distance. Only ever exchanging words on occasion.

You slowly spun around to face her, taken aback by the new nickname that left her lips.

“Minnow?” You state teasingly, your raised brow coaxing a chuckle out of the girl.

“Ive seen you out here almost everyday.”

She looks down in a sort of bashful way. Clutching the strings of her bag on her shoulders in a fidgety manner.

“Like this creek is your home or something…honestly now that im thinking about it I dont know if Ive ever seen you anywhere in jackson but here.” She scratches the back of her neck and repositions upright. The bottom of her shirt lifts at the tug of her elbow upwards to gain better access to her neck. This action exposes her slightly tanned stomach and a v line practically begging you to stare at it.

You inhale. As you think about the times you have laid eyes on her you realize its always been the way she looks now. A slightly grown out mullet pushed back with a thin black headband, some sort of sports bra underneath a slightly cropped muscle tee, with short swimming trunks that stop a little less than halfway on her thighs. She always had slightly sun kissed cheeks and freckles that decorate her entire face in various places. Exhale. Maybe you do come here too much.

“I could say the same for you too, you know. This was my spot first.” You rebuttal in a playful tone, crossing your arms.

The young woman throws her hands up in defense and steps a little closer to you. You can see a layer of sweat rolling off her now.

“Fair, fair…you dont mind do you? Every other corner of this stream but this one is overrun by like- loud jackson youths. I just need somewhere I can cool down and relax. Away from the noise you know? If im honest the only reason I found this place is because I saw you sneaking away from the usual crowded section.”

Her eyes meet yours in search of something. Acceptance? Maybe just a sign that you dont think shes a creep? You cant help but blush at the thought of her eyes following you, curious of your endeavors.

She notices this.

“Its fine.” You state calmly. Genuinely. Which makes her smile as she watches you turn on your heels to continue to the stream.

“Just as long as you dont call me a minnow anymore…” You pause. In search of her name. You remember she told you the first time she swam with you.

“…Ellie. Right?” You keep walking ahead listening to her steps slightly behind you.

“Right. And got it, no more fish related nicknames. I like swimming here with you. Id hate to fuck it up.” You can hear the smirk in her tone. You try to shake it off but you cant. She enjoys your time together…Noted.

—

You make it to the edge of the stream and stop at a patch of grass where you normally put your things. This time Ellie settles next to you instead of her usual spot a few patches over.

“Can I ask why you come here so much? I feel like you have to be half fish.” You laugh at this, taking a liking to her humorous side as opposed to the usual quietness you are used to.

“Pretty much the same reason you do. That, and I dont have a fan in my room, so this is the only way I can stay cool in summer. ” You reply as you began to remove the clothes that served as a sort of practical cover up from the journey from your house to the stream.

Ellie hums in response and watches as you peel of the top that was clinging you your body on the walk here. Revealing the only bikini u had the luck of finding in this current state of the world. You were now only in your swim suit peering down at your own reflection in the water. Ellie stands up behind you, motivated by your new state and removes her black headband and muscle tee then tosses them ontop of her own belongings as she makes her way to stand next to you by the stream.

She is close. Closer than shes ever been before, which isnt even really THAT close. But for some reason its enough for you to notice. You can smell her now. The need to sneak a look at her state from this distance overcomes you. You can see some scars on her face you didnt notice before. A small pit in your stomach begins to form and u turn to look back at your own reflection in the water. Her gaze averts away from the stream and towards your direction. You shift your eyes to look at her reflection in the water until you muster enough strength to meet her gaze next to you. Ellies mullet has now fallen around her face and is stuck to her temples and forehead due to the heat. The green in her eyes impossible to ignore, almost as if they were daring you to swim in them and not the water next to you. The pit in your stomach grows a little larger but you cant think of anything to say. Luckily (as if she read your mind) she speaks up.

“Jump in on three?” She asks. You Nod.

“One” says ellie

“Twooo” You drag

“THREE!” You both shout and finally break eye-contact to jump into the cold water.

This day was different than the others, you both knew it.

—

After swimming for what felt like no time at all, (but both of you determined had been several hours due to the sun’s dramatic new position) you decided to leave the coldness of the water and return back to jackson city limits.

The walk back was silent. A juxtaposition to the time you two had spent together in the water. Maybe you were silently soaking in all the information you had learned about Ellie or maybe it was because your time together was almost over. This swim session was filled with questions about each other, statements about jackson and various basic getting to know each other things. Ellies questions were unique. She asked you things no one had before. It was as if she was desperate to know you, like she had already had an arsenal of questions ready for the moment you two had finally decided to get to know each other. Your questions came naturally, but still revealed a side to her that you could never predict yourself.

She was an artist. She was a killer, of man and monster alike. Mostly everyone was these days. Although, her stories and the journey it took to get Jackson was something you would never forget. Ellie loved jokes and comics and space. Nerd. She asked you lots (lots) of questions about your own theories of how the universe worked. You could tell your perspective was as interesting to her as the subject itself. You told her about your own interests which also seemed to dazzle her in a way even you couldn’t explain. Getting to know each other reminded you of reading a really good book, or traveling to somewhere new. Theres was so much to learn. So much to still unravel, details to notice. You didn’t want to stop getting to know Ellie. And she didn’t want to stop talking to you.

So the silent walk back was interrupted by Ellies voice.

“Um-you mentioned you dont have a fan in your room?” She asks, already knowing the answer but mostly seeing if you would fall into the trap she had been asking herself the entire walk back to jackson if she should set. You shake your head and respond.

“I do not unfortunately. Never got lucky enough on patrol to find one. I look every time though, and nothing. My guess is all of the ones within our patrol areas got taken by jackson citizens. If I wanted to find one these days I would probably have to journey for miles.” You state plainly. Curious why she asked, so you ask.

“Why?”

She looks up from her shifting feet.

“Well, I uh- have one. In my room…A fan. If you were still feeling hot.”

She steps closer.

“We could go there and continue to cool down...” Shes looking directly at you again. Her green eyes are begging for you to accept her seemingly gracious (but really somewhat selfish) offer. You cant help but swallow, hard.

You accept and she leads you to her place.

—

As you enter Ellies home everything she had told you at the creek before makes more sense. Its almost as if her personality had been stripped from her and placed on the walls and shelves around you. You had never seen a room with so much stuff. A part of you was curious on how she had collected so many items over the years. These days you had forgotten that was an option, you had become too consumed by other things to remember to have a personality of your own to decorate your home with.

You liked it in her room. Well liked was an understatement. You silently paced around the space taking note of everything you saw. Posters, figurines, lots of books and comics. You began to notice her art that was sprawled all over the room in various corners. She was talented. You noticed a guitar and a record player with lots of vinyls next to it. She had mentioned a guardian of hers had a large influence on her love for music. You made a mental note to make sure she showed you her appreciation for music sometime. As you continued to take in everything in silence, Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off you. She watched the way you hesitantly touched the occasional item. Her stomach did flips each time you stared a little longer than normal at a sketch or painting you had discovered around the space. Each little hmm or ah that exited your mouth left her with a mountain of curiosity. She wanted to know every thought behind every item you saw. She was overwhelmed by your presence in her space. You were here. Admiring her things, in her room, alone with her.

“So, what do you think?” Ellies asks.

“Of your room?”

“No of the fan.” She gestures to a grey fan slowly moving side to side placed near the corner of her bed.

“Oh. Its nice.”

“Im joking. Just nice?”

“Jerk. Your room is cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. I like your art.”

Ellie gestures to the art you have been observing for the last few minutes.

“Oh you mean this art?” She asks in a playfully sarcastic tone. You catch her smirking this time, not wanting to give her the full satisfaction so you decide to continue with the playful dialogue she has struck.

“Mmmhm, Id like to meet the artist someday. Do you think you could introduce me?” You ask. Now mirroring Ellie’s smirk.

“Woooooow.” She scoffs in response only making your smirk turn into a much wider grin.

“Ohhh!” You continue your game. Ellie continues to laugh whilst matching the increasing smile now on both of your faces.

“Is this? This cant be your art? I mean its actually good. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a young van gogh.” You tease. Hoping you didn’t offend her with the comparison to the only artist you could remember. Now you are both laughing.

“Oh come on.” She rolls her eyes.

“Im no Van gogh.” She states boldly. Your laughter dies down slightly as you both continue to stare at a painting she had been working on. She turned her gaze back to you.

“You know Van goh was like, criminally underrated in his prime? He was deemed untalented by those who viewed his work when he was alive.” You smiled at the knowledge she decided to share with you.

“Ah so you do have something in common.” you turn to face her fighting a smile, wanting to see her reaction.

“Ohhh okay… whos the jerk now?” She asks as her head tilts slightly to the side, lips back in smirk position.

You dont respond immediately. Soaking in the effortlessness of you and Ellies rebuttal. You search for words to change the subject, but, in this moment you cant help but notice her current state. Shes in diffferent clothes now. The change must have happened as you were distracted admiring ellies room. She was dressed in dark blue boxers and a white longsleeve sleep shirt with the top two silver buttons left unclasped. The longsleeve was slightly oversized and stopped just above her waist with the sleeves pushed to her elbows. Her boxers were slightly shorter than the swimming trunks you were used to. The pit in your stomach had reappeared again. Noticing her now dry hair didnt help much either. It was very much disheveled sticking out every which way. Ellies fringe framed her face in a way that made your cheeks turn red. It was only then, when the heat on your face was significantly more prominent did you realize how long you had been staring.

Your gaze returns to Ellies eyes and the playful demeanor she once had was gone. Instead it was replaced with something much more. Her eyebrows were knit and her bottom lip was now under them punishment of her teeth. She looked at you as if you were a painting. Not one in a museum, more like one of her own. A piece of art she could only imagine in her head. A blank canvas she needed to decorate. Afraid one wrong stroke could ruin you. She looked at your arms, legs, stomach, chest. Ellie studied you with such intensity you thought you would dissolve under her stare. Your breathing increased. You swallow hard.

“Ellie.” You say, hoping to ease her piercing stare. Its no use. Shes lost in the observation of you.

She stands from her sitting position and slowly walks towards your direction, still saying nothing. Ellie still hadnt made direct eye contact for a while, so you took this moment to look at her face. You wanted to notice every facial expression she made whilst discovering your body. You watched her mouth part to support the fact that she was now breathing as hard as you were. With every step ellie inched closer you spotted something new. A freckle or scar, the slight pink of her lips, the twinge of brown in her astonishingly green irises.

She was inches away from you now, still refusing to acknowledge your eyes. Your instincts made u step away from her like two negative sides of a magnet. The more she moved into you the more you moved away. There wasnt much room for you to avert her. You continued this dance until you were met with the hardness of her desk behind you. The solid surface made contact with the lower half of your behind, leaving you no choice but to seize your movements away from ellies unwavering advances.

She stops and places her hands on either side of you. Your trapped now. Ellie is gripping her desk like she would fall over if she didn’t. Shes so close yet not touching you at all. Your breaths are now synched. You look at ellies neck and see her swallow hard. When you look at her face she still hasn’t gained the bravery to look you in the eye. Instead she has her eyes fixed on your slightly parted lips. She looks at them as if they were a cold glass of water just out of reach. A perfectly good dessert thrown in the trash. She looked at your lips as if she needed them to stay alive. Like it was painful.

How did you get here? One moment you two had been playful and lighthearted and now the room was filled with tension as thick as the hot air outside. The pit in your stomach returned with a great force.

Noticing this, you decided to be brave. You allowed your tongue to swipe itself through the part of your lips, wetting them for whatever was to come next. Ellie let out a shakey sigh of relief. Followed by a soft hum. Her head lowered in order to get a closer look at your newly damp lips, her eyebrows knit even more at the sight of them from this new angle.

Slowly but steadily her hand began to rise from its grip on the desk behind you. Her palm inched closer and closer to your face. Only until her hand had risen past your shoulders did you notice its presence, distracted by the concentration in her eyes. She froze for a moment molding her hand into a lazy cuping formation mere centimeters from your cheek.

She was shaking. Ellies breathing had picked up slightly. You took this opportunity to look away from her hand and back to her eyes, still not on yours. The painful yearning look was still painted on her face. As if she ran a marathon in order to connect with you but couldnt go the last mile, like she needed your permission to cross the finish line. So you moved your head forward and slowly wiggled into the crescent her long and slender fingers had formed so close to your face. As if you were begging her to become your own personal champion. You wanted to be her prize. Ellies breathing stopped.

For a moment there was pure silence. Every sound around you from the fan by the corner of her bed to the hum of jackson civilization became muffled. Everything in you ached for her finish what you two had started, whatever it was.

You leaned into the warmth her fingers provided biting back a whine for something more. Only then, when Ellie noticed you dripping with desperation did the first words in several minutes get uttered.

“Can I kiss you?” Ellie whispers in a low tone. You were sure you wouldnt have been able to hear it if she hadnt been so close. The heat emitting from her hand on your flushed cheek had become scalding. Unable to utter a word because you were afraid your voice might crack, you nod.

Ellie mirrors your prior actions and licks her own lips to alleviate the dryness her heavy breathing had caused. Green eyes still trained on your parted lips.

You feel the soft grasp she has on your cheek shift slightly. Her thumb strokes your cheek unbearably slow, inching closer and closer until it finds its place at the corner of your mouth. She pauses for a second, inhales-then swipes the digit slowly across your lower lip. This causes you to inhale deeply. Ellie had barely touched you at all, her intimate gesture crumbled what ever composure you thought you had left. You were going mad and extremely needy. Heart racing faster than ever. Then once she was done with the first touch your bottom lip, she swipes her finger even slower back across your top one. You swear the roughness of her finger tip is stained in your memory forever.

This causes you to become weak.

You sink into the desk behind you slightly leaning on it due to the fact that your knees no longer seemed to function. Ellie becomes the support of your head as your neck becomes limp after she had taken whatever strength you had at the delicate touch of your lips. Fuck. fuckfuckfuck.

You start to think its impossible for Ellie to look you in the eye. She had become entranced by your lips. You have yet to look away from her eyes which were still focused on the one place you wanted her most. It was evil that she has yet to meet your stare.

“Ellie..” You whispered once more. Yearning for something, anything. Then, as if she could hear your thoughts before they left your mouth for the second time today (at this point you were convinced) she began to grant you your wish.

Ellie pressed her head against yours for a moment and exhaled. “What are you doing to me?” She asks, in that painful tone you saw oozing out of her demeanor earlier. You cant find the words because you honestly dont know what you have done to make her want you this way. All you can think, see, hear is Ellie, ellieellieellieellieellie. So instead you plead for her. “Please look at me Ellie.”

She becomes more malleable each time you utter her name.

Ellies eyes rose to meet yours. Finally. Then your lips meet. It was as if your stare had pulled her in. When eye contact had been made she couldn’t stay away anymore. You thought that was maybe why it took her so long to return her gaze to yours. If she did, she couldn’t stop herself from doing whatever she wanted with you. But you didn’t care. You needed Ellie.

You both sigh into the kiss, eye contact unbroken for a moment. Sure most people would consider open eyes during this moment strange, it didn’t bother you though. It had felt like eons since she had graced you with direct eye contact. You needed it so desperately you refused to look away. So did she. So you kissed like this for a moment.

Her eyebrows had scrunched together again at the sight of your own eyes trained on hers, matching desperation. This made you sink even further into her grasp. Finally finding the courage to reach out and grab onto her, you placed your hands on either side of her waist pulling her into you. This new closeness made both of your eyes snap shut. You swam in the feeling of her lips on yours. She was as comforting as the stream that had brought you together.

Ellie was remarkably soft. Images of her once rugged state appeared in your head furthering the intensity you were feeling. How could someone who appeared so tough, be so malleable? So gentle? The curiosity made you whine for more. More and so much more. Her lips belonged on yours. Each slip and slide of your swollen pink lips on each other further ignited what you both thought was long gone. You couldn’t stay silent, moans and whimpers escaping from you left and right. This only made Ellie hold you tighter. Kiss you harder.

She ran her hands to the underside of your exposed thighs until her hands were where she wanted them. Her grip tightened on your skin as she lifted you onto her desk. Painting materials shifted behind you due to your presence. This action caused you to squeal slightly, which drove Ellie mad. She grabbed your waist and brought your clothed core against her own. This new position made Ellie moan into your mouth.

It was a sound that made your whole body become hot. The once soft kiss had turned into a dance for dominance. Your hands traveled from her waist to the back of her mullet due to the new position. You tugged on Ellies hair as if it would bring you closer in her already impossibly tight embrace. This action coaxed another moan out of her mouth against your lips and she broke contact for the first time in what felt like hours. Ellie left her forehead connected with yours and suddenly she was back to her harsh breathing state.

“Shit.” She curses and breaks her gaze on your swollen lips to meet eyes that are already trained on her. “Your driving me crazy” She pecks your lips. “Those pretty fucking noises you make are driving me crazy baby.” Ellie states in that dangerously intoxicating tone. You both breathe harshly. You can still feel her hands on the small of your back underneath your shirt.

A devilish grin forms on your lips which turns into a breathy laugh coming from both parties. She interrupts your laughter with another peck on your lips. and another. and another. You are both still laughing. You cant tell if its because everything was moving so fast or because how good you feel in this moment. Thats a conversation for later.

“You taste-“ Ellie starts in a whisper.

“Like the lake?” You cut her off.

She laughs at your answer and deepens the kiss once more. “Mhhmm” She hums into your mouth. Then pulls away.

“Wait how did you know?”

“Because you taste like the lake.” You moan back pulling her in to kiss you again. She pulls away.

“Shit, is it bad?” She inquires in a concerning voice.

“Do I taste bad?” You ask.

“No, you taste like fresh water and the feeling of outside? Its like oddly addicting.” Shes scratching your back now and it’s making your head spin.

“Good. You dont taste bad either. You taste really good actually.” You say shakily. Your brain has become foggy due to Ellies-well everything. Her smell, her voice, her hands on your body.

“Yeah?” She asks and leans back to observe the effect she has on you. Ellie loves how out of it you are. She needs more.

You nod slowly and hum whilst wrapping your hands around her neck again to pull her head closer to yours. Before she can enclose the space between you, she whispers something against your lips.

“Can I lay you down on my bed pretty baby?” Shes begging you now. Ellie is drunk on your touch and reassurance. You mistake her desperation for confidence at the new nickname for you that leaves her lips. You cant do any thing but whine and wrap yourself around her. Legs surround her waist and arms settled on her broad shoulders. You crane your head against her neck and whisper your response in her ear.

“Please Ellie.” You drag out slowly. She shivers at the feeling of your breath against her neck. Ellie runs her hands over your legs making sure you are securely wrapped around her. Then she grasps your butt to lift you off her cluttered desk. The grip she has on you there sends a shock to your core. You cant help but moan and sink further into the crook of her neck. She chuckles at your sensitivity to her touch. Which only sends you further into bliss. Theres something so tantalizing about the fact that you were falling apart so easily and you had barely been touched. You both could feel it. Ellie holds you close until she reaches her bed and gently places you on her dark green covers.

Almost as soon as you hit the mattress she was on you again. Ellie had one hand on the side of your stomach just above your waist. She had slipped that hand under the shirt you had on and was touching your skin directly. Her other hand was propped in a way that help her upper body stay upright, but her lower half was slotted in between you. You continued making out like this.

The friction of your bodies was becoming more and more intense. The hand that was touching you began exploring your body. From caressing your stomach to your back and down to your butt to pull you closer into her lower half. “So soft.” Ellie barely whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

Your hands had found their way underneath ellies shirt and clawed at her back desperately. You tried to mirror her caresses of you on her back, but her touch and kiss was so overwhelming all you could do was grasp at nothing but skin. Leaving scratches she would sport proudly at a later time.

“Your body feels so good against mine.” She says against your ear making your hips buck up to hers. The slotted position makes your core connect with her thigh. And your thigh to her core. Ellie hissies and grips your hips in that position so you cant move as she rolls her own hips into yours. This action elicits a moan from you both. Foreheads connect as Ellie swears against your mouth. “Fuuuuck.” She continues the movement of her hips in an achingly slow manner. You both cant believe how good it feels and you tell her that you need-

“More. I need more.”

“Yeah?” She moans. This is when Ellie realizes you both are fully clothed. She moves her hands from your hips to your back and sits you both up. You pull back from your closeness to look at her for a moment, wondering what her actions would lead to next.

You take her current state in. Ellie is completely disheveled. She looks so fucked out in-front of you. You blush at the thought that its because of you. The mess of her mullet, the sweat on her temples, her flushed cheeks and glossed puffy lips. All your doing. If she looks this good now you were definitely a goner for whatever she had in store.

Ellie maneuvers herself so she can sit in between your legs. She takes in your spread out position on display for her, then looks at you.

“Im getting hot in these clothes.” She says as her hands move back to their place under your shirt. You exhale at the feeling of her fingers tracing your sides.

“M-Me too.” You whisper.

The heat building in you as she moves her hands up your sides as your top bunches at her wrists the higher they venture up your body. When her hands find their place just below the pits of your arms you lift them above your head and let her remove the damp fabric from your body. Ellie hooks her fingers into your shorts and states-

“Lift your hips baby.” You should’ve known to do this. But you were far too distracted by the way she looked undressing you. That same sort of nervousness from earlier (when she refused to look you in the eye) filled her demeanor. So when she snapped you back to earth with her voice you had to ask her to repeat herself. Instead of vocalizing her needs she took matters into her own hands. Ellie leaned over you and grasped your hips to lift upward. This caused you to fall on your back and gasp as she shimmied your shorts down your legs. When she pulled them off you completely, her hands dragged back up your legs to spread you open and move them back in their position on either side of her. She pulled you closer so that she could move her hands up and down your thighs and take you in for a moment.

Her eyes on you in this position made you grow wet. You have nothing but your swimsuit on now. Which was in a different type of way than what she saw you in earlier. This was 10x more intimate, you feel exposed. Dirty.

You are nearly naked with your legs open due to Ellie putting them there. Now it was your turn to look a mess. Fucked and blushing without even being touched in your leaking center.

Her bottom lip is pushed out into a pout and her head cocked to the side. Ellie sighed deeply like she pitied you. Like you were a toy left at her dispense to play with for as long as she wanted.

The darkness that slowly seeped into her eyes made you embarrassed at your exposed state. You didn’t want her to think you had abandoned all of your composure and willpower. You wanted to surprise her. You brought your hand behind your neck and lifted it slightly so you could untie the swim suit top you had on. As the strings fell apart on either side of your head Ellies breath hitched. Then you lifted your back and pulled the bow placed there loose. You never broke eye contact with her. There was no support on your chest now. This left the swimsuit to act as a mere barrier between your breasts being fully exposed to Ellie. Instead of removing the piece yourself you asked-

“Will you touch me Ellie?”

The way her name exited your lips drove Ellie insane. She let out a shakey breath and brought her hands to your ribcage. Each time her fingers met your skin its like the first. Your stomach flips and the temperature rises in your head fogging your brain. Ellies touch had you reeling. Slowly she raises her hands up your sides until she is grasping your fully exposed chest in her palms. Shes shaking.

“God.” She breaths out.

You cant help but whine at the contact. Instinctively your chest rises with her grasp causing your back to lift off the bed making Ellie bite her lip as her chest rises and falls. She kneads the soft skin and you squirm under her touch. Her hands are impossibly hot against your skin. The sounds coming from you only encouraging her more.

“Fuck baby.” She whispers to herself again. “Look at you.”

She spreads her hands to reveal your perky nipples. Painfully hard from her touch. Shes salivating now. Her mouth remains parted as she inhales harshly, tongue constantly swiping and swirling around her lips to keep from drooling. Ellie runs her thumbs over your sensitive buds, taking you back to moments earlier when she did the same to your lips. The roughness of them still not lost on you, you sigh from her touch.

She playes with you like this until you cant take anymore. With every knead and tug on your breasts, your pussy became more wet. The puddle forming underneath you was not ignored by Ellie. She simply wanted to take her time with you. But you were growing impatient, you needed relief.

“Mmmno more.” You grabbed her wrists to stop her movements. She tried to continue but your grasp was so strong she had no luck. So instead she leaned down to your chest and blew cool air on your right nipple causing you to bite back a moan.

“You all done baby? Cant take anymore?” She continued to blow on your chest. Your whole body shivered. She moved to the left nipple.

“I havent even kissed you here yet…” Her tone had you spinning. She sounded sad. Deprived. Shit.

“Mmmfine. Y-You can keep going. But not for too long, I need you Ellie.” You managed to get out. She gave you a look of affection and relief. Like you gave Ellie her life back. She nodded and reassured you.

“I promise I wont tease you for too much longer, I just want to savor you. You are just sooo pretty baby.”

Your head fell back against the mattress at her words. You have never heard something so intoxicating to your ear drums. Ellie sounding desperate to have you sent you even further into bliss. Then she brought you a new wave of pleasure when her soft lips came in contact with your raw nipples, sensitive and red from her teasing. She sucked the pain of her previous actions away. Ellies tongue swirled around your areolas and flicked across your aching buds. You could no longer stay silent. Your hands flew to Ellies Mullet and scratched at her scalp at her undying progressions on your body. You were a mess of “Ohs and Ahs” urging her to continue as she switched to your neglected breast causing you to go through the motions once more. This went on for what felt like forever, then Ellie finally detached.

“Wait-“ You whined at the loss.

“Shh shh. Im going to take care of you now.” She says against your lips before kissing you again.

You dissolve into her kiss. Its wetter now, the saliva from making a mess of your tits had coated her lips. Everthing had become sloppy. Ellie kissed you as she fumbled out of her boxers and white sleep shirt. Leaving her more exposed than you were, seeing as all you had left to reveal to her was your soaked cunt hidden by your bikini bottoms.

But first you admired her. She was beautiful. Lean and strong. Her frame was small but she somehow had muscle everywhere you looked. The longer you stared the hazier your mind became.

“You’re beautiful.” It comes out of your mouth like a waterfall, so fast you couldn’t stop yourself. You inhale a sharp breath and blush from embarrassment.

“Thank you pretty.” She says in a slight chuckle. When she had enough of the attention on her she began to slot herself against you once more. Bringing together your two hot, now exposed bodies.

“Oh my god.” She breathed.

The feeling on skin to skin contact was a drug. She lay barely ontop of you as you collided. Her exposed cunt was moving and grinding on your thigh messily with no rhythm. Ellie was using your body. Hands exploring each other like it was your job. You were drunk on the feeling of her body on yours. You were jealous at the relief she was getting from you, but it had also sparked something deep inside you. You kissed like this until Ellie had moved her lips to your neck. She sucked there for a moment, making sure to leave a mark. Her hips had lifted as she moved lower down your body. She kissed your collarbones, the valley between your breasts, stomach, belly button. Until she kissed you at the center of your swimming bottoms. Then she moved lower and finally kissed you right on your clothed core ontop of your puffy clit.

“Oh shit” You breathed. You were incredibly sensitive.

She looked up at you from her new spot settled between your legs. Ellie gave u a pleading look. Laced with lust and desperation. She needed to taste you. Now. You gave her a nod of approval and moved to remove your swim bottoms before she stopped you.

“Keep them on.”

There it was again, that tone that drove u crazy. How could you deny her? You wanted to tell her that it wasn’t fair because she was more undressed than you were. But when she sounded like that, and looked like that, between your legs no less…all you could do was nod and watch. Ellie hooked her finger into the side of your suit and tugged them upward creating friction between you and the fabric on your clit. The sensation made u grasp at the comforter underneath you. You tried to hard not to rock your hips, at least not yet. You were sure if you moved any more than what ellie was already doing you would snap. Ellie brought her free hand to her mouth and spat. The sound caused you to twitch. Which she noticed.

“How does this feel baby? Do my fingers feel good? They making u wet baby? Hmm?” It wasn’t a condescending tone. She wanted to make sure you felt good. Really.

Ellie had began to circle her slick digits around your sensitive mound. She would occasionally drag her fingers up and down the sides of your exposed lips. Sending you into a frenzy.

“Y-Yeah…” Your overwhelmed shy tone wasn’t enough to convince her that she should continue.

“Yeah? You sure?” her expression is almost teasing now. Eyebrow raised and grin apparent. You were under her spell.

“Yes! Yes…Feels too good Ellie.” You almost shout. Your voice is tinged with pain and pleasure. The good kind of pain. The you needed release and you needed it now, pain. Finally satisfied with your response Ellie massages you harder, tugs at your swimsuit harsher. The sight of your arched back and agape mouth only made the need to taste the continuous slick pouring out of you unbearable. Ellie needed to take action. Now.

You yelp as Ellie unexpectedly tears your swimsuit down your legs and wets her fingers in your slick. Then she is face to face with your dripping cunt.

“Im gonna kiss you down here now okay? I cant wait anymore…you look too delicious, soo beautiful.” The words ooze out of her perfect mouth.

You sit up to watch as Ellie places a delicate kiss on your clit. You’re shaking now. She repeats this up and down your pussy a few times never breaking eye contact. Each kiss sends you deeper and deeper into the pit of pure euphoria.

“Ohhh fuckk Ellie—.”

You think it cant get any better until Ellie flattens her tongue and begins to lap at the pool of slick pouring out of you. She sinks her tongue into your folds sucking, kissing and licking every surface of your overstimulated core. You are nearly screaming now. You hadn’t even come yet. It was approaching fast, you were trying so desperately to release, you were just so damn hot. Too hot. You pat the soft top of ellies hair and she stops her antics to meet your gaze.

“You dont like it?”

You shake your head harshly and tell her that you’ve never felt so good.

“Whats wrong then baby?” She gives you a look of genuine concern.

“M-Hot Ellie, I feel like im going to pass out.”

Ellie gives u those pitty eyes again and your weak. “Oh babyyy.” You hear her pout. She lays u flat on your back once more and pushes your body to the corner of the bed. At first you question her methods but then remember the savior device that persuaded you to come here in the first place.

Ellie leans over u to halt the rotation function of her fan and dials the speed up to 3. Now cool air is flooding your senses and bringing you back to earth. Ellie finds her position back in between your legs and continues her earlier routine. Instantly your brought back to your breaking point. Something about the heat between your legs and the cool air at your front was driving you insane.

“Better?” Ellie questions as she continues to suck hard on your clit. Already knowing the answer based on the way your body is reacting. You cant even answer you are so consumed in the pleasure of the movement of her fingers and the breeze of the fan. The cool air has made you dumb. Ellie had made you weak. Still, she needed to hear you say it. So she teases her middle finger at your entrance to get an answer out of you.

“I need you to tell me if you feel better pretty girl, or Im going to have to stop.”

That was the last thing you wanted. Your hands left the sheets and found their way to her hair, eyes meeting hers. You hum and whine shaking your head in protest.

“Better Ellie, So much better. Please dont stop.” You almost cry. Its all too much.

“Good girl.” Ellie Coos, then inserts her finger inside of you. With every centimeter entering u deeper and deeper your back arches higher and your mouth falls more open. When shes fully in you, she begins thrusting her long digit in and out curving the tip of her finger prodding where it feels the best.

“Shit your tight.” Ellie spits.

You become limp at her actions and your hands grip her auburn hair tight. You cant help but moan loudly at her actions. The feeling of her inside of you was heaven. Ellie couldn’t take seeing you like this, she had to give you more. So she brought her mouth down to your shaking legs and placed wet kisses on your thighs and all around your pussy until her mouth sucked where you wanted her most. You were a wreck. Exactly how she wanted you. She continued moving her longest digit in and out of you in that curling motion loving the way you clenched around her finger. When she thought you could handle it she detached her lips from your pussy and slipped in another finger.

“I need you to take this finger too baby, it’s going to feel so good okay?” Shes talking you through it like it’s your first time. Obviously you have touched yourself before. Sex wasn’t foreign to you, just rare. But something about this moment made it feel like you were discovering the act all over again, with Ellie as your guide.

This full sensation brought you back to a sitting up position so you could make eye contact as she exited and entered you over and over. It was a filthy sight. Her hair was completely stuck to her head and her mouth formed and ‘o’ shape. Ellies string of curses and moans were borderline pornographic.

“Yeah Hmm? Shit listen to how well your- fuck-fucking taking my fingers in baby.”

She was turned on just by the sight of her effect on you. Ellie was getting off on it. The sounds coming from your cunt drove her mad. She wouldn’t let up, she moved back down to taste you again. You began to move your hips chasing that same need you saw from the girl below you. You could feel the fuse about to blow inside of you as you humped Ellies fingers and face.

“Els Im gonna-“ your voice had reached an impossibly high pitch.

“Please please come for me baby let me taste you.”

Remembering how good the cool air made you feel earlier, she pushed you closer to the edge of the bed until you were almost hanging off. Your body was so close to the fan you could feel the fast blowing air everywhere now. On your nipples, stomach, and even through the hair on top of your pussy. You focus on the feeling of the cool from the fan for a moment to long that u see water. You saw the beloved stream you swam in just today. Your own heaven. You see Ellie. You had reached your climax and you didn’t even know it until you were coming all over Ellies hands and face.

“Shit-Ellie!” The speed of her fingers had doubled. You saw flashes of the creek and you swimming in it. Ellie had made you come so hard you were seeing things.

“Mmhmm baby you’re doing so good. So pretty like this.” She kept you like this until the pitch in your voice had become so high it was silent. Until you were a writhing panting mess chanting Ellies name over and over. Only when your hands loosened their tight grip on her hair did she slow the movement of her fingers inside of you.

Ellie helped you ride your high for a moment before retracting her fingers from you and kissing your swollen cunt one more time.

“You taste amazing.”

She smoothes her hands over your body making you shiver under her touch. She couldn’t help but stare at your fucked out state.

“You are so beautiful.”

You don’t even have words to respond to her compliments. Your sex drunk more than ever and completely non verbal. Instead u hum in acceptance. Which she laughs at.

After moments of admiring you she grabs her discarded boxers and begins to clean you up with them, too lazy to move up from the bed. This was fine to you because while u were nonverbal, you also couldn’t move.

The fan was still on full blast and Ellie craved to share the cool air with you. You had gone completely limp. Exhausted from Ellie having her way with you. So Ellie laid next you and pulled your body against hers. Skin to skin contact making you hum. Your face had gone to that perfect place in her neck. You took in her smell before she turned her head to look at you. Her eyes were lidded and sleepy, but also in awe of your state and her affect on you. She smirked slightly and placed a slow breathy kiss on your lips. When you broke apart your eyes were too heavy to open them again for the night. Ellie took one last look at you before sleep over came her.

“Thank youu, fan.” She whispered before pulling you closer and falling into deep sleep.

Thank god for fans. Thank god for the creek. Thank god for Ellie. (and her fingers) You thought and snuggled into her before dozing off completely.

Maybe this summer won’t be too unbearable.

🌿

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams oneshot #wlw #lesbian #wlw ns/fw #top!ellie

[tinyidle]

Need More - CJH

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: in which you and your boyfriend engage in some casual sex during your chuseok vacation time

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: jongho x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: slice of life, slight fluff, smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: established relationship, free use

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.3k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: free use, consensual perversion, implied sensual touches, kisses, implied groping, mutual masturbation, implied fellatios, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, slightly casual sex (they are both protected, like you should) fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature, mdni ofc

𝘈/𝘕: i was debating on whether my next atz fic should be a request i got a long time go or this one thought ive had for a while. because it's jongho, and i haven't written about him yet this year, ill do this first. my inspo was that ISFP video he made. 4th submission to @wonderlandnet. taglist person @strayteezsimp.

it's day 3 of vacationing, and jongho's decided to take a break from all those adventures he's had the past couple days wile out on chuseok leave. this meant going to sleep for a good while, and then doing whatever he wanted. with you of course.

by the time the second day rolled around, you asked to stick around a bit at night after he went out, and of course jongho obliged. he loved when you'd come to his dorm to simply hang out, especially when that would seldom happened to each of your busy schedules. despite you doing your own things during the day, the night just seemed like a perfect time to check and spend some time with your boyfriend.

on this day, the only difference was that you stayed in the night before, allowing you and jongho to sleep in together. he woke up and lazily smiled while seeing you sounding snoozing in front of him. carefully stroking your hair, you wake up and smile back at him.

"hey jonghie," you greet him.

jongho trails his hand from your head to your warm cheek, "hey, baby."

you sigh in content as he continues to caress your face. "jongho?" he hums. "i want you to use me all day today."

his hand froze. "you sure, sweetie? i dont want to make you uncomfortable." jongho rested his hand on your cheek while staring into the warmth of your eyes as he got slightly excited down there.

you sleepily shake your head, "i know you won't do anything to hurt me, jongho. if anything just double-check if you think im not in the mood, okay?"

he hesitated, realizing you mean this. then he smiled again, nodding his head as he happily obliged. "anything for you, sweetie," he answered, moving forward to give the cheek he was touching a soft kiss before you both dozed off again.

--

waking up two hours later, you both woke up and started your day like normal. it was 10 am- not too late, but later than normal for you. as you were getting in the shower, you felt the heavy presence of your boyfriend before he embraced you in his arms. you starting to laugh once you felt the wet and swinging of his length on your thigh.

"how are you already horny?" you asked, hand going behind you to ease the tension he had in between his legs.

jongho groaned as you stroked him steadily. "i can never get enough of you, love." his hand reached over to allow the water to run and heat up, before expertly slotting itself where you were currently drenched. you gasped, making him chuckle. "i especially cant enough of your noises when i barely touch you."

you wanted to retort, but all that came out were moans of satisfaction and want for him to keep going. you used your other hand to turn the shower head on to full blast while your occupied hand was gathering more and more precum from your boyfriend. he in response had three thick fingers sliding in and out of you, holding your waist in order to keep your balance.

you squealed when the middle of his fingers hit your g spot. "fuck, jongho im gonna cum," you warned. to give a clue as to how close you were, you swiped the slit of his tip multiple times- a trick you learned when you wanted him to release.

it worked, as the man groaned and targeted you spot even more. you whined louder as his panting grew even more shallow. with a low and almost desperate voice, he commanded, "cum for me, baby."

you instantly lost control and gave in to your need for orgasm. jongho came soon after as you felt his seed dripping down your leg. he sighed as his fingers slowed down, and you soon let go of his slightly softer cock.

he needed more of you later, for sure.

--

lunchtime came and went, and you both had local takeout from a lovely restaurant from nearby. after 2, when everything was supposed to be digested, you decided to catch up on some TV shows you missed from being busy at work all the time. at first you sat on he couch, but then felt the need to get a simple snack.

in the middle of getting your treat, you decided to continue the current episode of what you were watching on the kitchen area. not only were you so comfortable leaning over and standing to look down at your phone that you forgot what you were in there for, you were so distracted that it took a wet muscle to knock you out of your episode-filled daze.

you gasped as you held onto the edge of the countertop. "jongho!" you wanted to sound like you were reprimanding him, but his tongue on your clit was keeping you from speaking. "ss-shit," you could only say, arms shaking as your hips had a mind of its own onto his more-than-ready mouth.

"mmmh," the man moaned, right into your aching center. jongho help your hips to his face, circling his tongue on your hole before teasingly pushing it in, causing you to snap. you came with a soft sob, hips jerking ever so often when your boyfriend would tantalizingly, lick at your sensitive clit.

you help him out with a blowjob, and he thanked you for it as you swallowed him clean. but he needed more of you again.

--

you both had to go out and catch up with friends for a group outing. once that was done and you two headed home, jongho ripped your clothes off and proceeded to fuck your brains out. now you were truly spent, but jongho needed more.

an hour into you being knocked out from having arguably one of the best nights of your life, you were woken up by kisses to your shoulder and fondling of your breasts. you were turned on, no doubt, but you nether regions couldn't take anymore. breathing in enough air to whisper, you said, "baby, i cant go anymore. my pussy's too spent."

sensing the respectful disappoint in him, you were going to turn around and give him another blowjob as a 'truce', until you heard him, say, "let me fuck your thighs."

this was new. how does he even know it'd be something he'd like? nonetheless, you agreed. "okay. just dont slip it in unless i get desperate, okay?" you heard a hum of understanding, prompting you to open up your legs for him.

the friction was incredible. despite you widening your legs a good bit to allow himself to slot, somehow was still a tight fit. in between your thighs. "oh my fucking-" jongho stuttered as you shuddered from how your boyfriend's thick girth was prompting you to open your thighs some more. somehow wanting to still sleep, you tried clenching your legs in and hope the constant ooze of jongho's cock would slick you up. unsurprisingly it wasn't just his juices that would make you slippery, as your slick was making your thighs a mess.

you panted and whined as the head of boyfriend's cock repeatedly nudged unto your clit, burning in the most pleasurable way. you couldn't take it anymore. "jjong, please cum in me. i need you again."

swallowing down the bit of pride that was trying to bubble up in his throat, jongho opened your leg wide before pushing his head in your sopping cunt. making you hiss and groan from the stretch you could never get tired of. "you can't get over me, neither," he replied before thrusting a couple more times, shooting himself deep inside of you for the last time tonight. he returned the favor by rubbing your clit while he was still inside until you cam hard around him, milking him for all he's worth.

#wonderlandnet #ateez smut #jongho smut

[nebbyy]

King Baldwin IV x reader - I’ll be waiting for you

A/N: Well, how could I not make another fic for King Baldwin when the other one I made is my most liked post yet, so I decided to write this little pieceee. Sooo I guess I should warn y'all that this one will be a little less historically accurate (not that the first one was that great of a historical piece but you get the idea). Oh and as usual, this fic came into my mind the moment I saw the painting just below (which is "the Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets Over the Dead Bodies of Romeo andJuliet" by sir Frederic Leighton)Now enough chatting, more King Baldwin brainrot. 

Summary: in a desperate attempt to protect his kingdom after having punished Reynald de Chatillon, the king is exhausted and the long ride has increasingly worsened his already wary condition. Once he’s escorted back to the palace, his loving wife wastes no time to reunite with her beloved husband.

Warnings: kinda angsty (no happy ending tbh), vague descriptions of Baldwin’s illness related wounds. Also, reader specifically described as female.

Word count: 3209

You sat on your throne, high and proud like the royalty you were. But under the facade of your noble confidence, you felt small. Smaller than ever, actually, as the yelling of all the men in front of you filled the air and rose up to the open sky. With a simple, reckless act, Reynald de Chatillon and Guy de Lusignan had just screwed years of efforts that King Baldwin had spent trying to maintain that delicate peace that required so many lives and time to build. All washed away from the raging river that were Reynald and Guy. 

While the two men tried to defend their senseless attack, backed by a substantial group of men, another opposing group shouted at them, berating them for the offense they had given not only to Saladin but also to Jerusalem itself.

You sigh, fighting the urge to cover your ears, and curl into your own body; you opt to just turn your head and look at your beloved husband. He looked to be in a similar state as you were: although his face was now fully covered -a means of hiding the decaying state of his leprosy-ridden body- his head was bent with weary alertness, like a hawk watching its prey from a distance. You watched his body, languidly seated on his much larger throne, the only sitting position that brought him no discomfort, though it looked almost more like he was about to lie down. 

It broke your heart to see how that disease had ravaged Baldwin's body, in recent years more and more. To see him there, on the same throne on which he once sat tall and proud, while now he barely had the strength to stay upright. And you knew he was thinking the very same thing.

You were about to open your mouth, whisper something to him, anything, in order to shake him out of his thoughts and that chaotic situation, but you were interrupted in your actions by an official, who rushed to the king's side, handing him a scroll. His bandaged hands clumsily opened the scroll, and you found salvation from the noise of the room by concentrating on watching Baldwin read carefully. You watched his eyes, blue as the sky and like the waves of the sea that brought you to the Holy Land, now covered with a pale glassy glaze. 

You frowned when you heard Baldwin freeze in place, even his sitting became more erect, as if a cube of ice had slid down his back. With his gaze still fixed on the words written in that letter, he merely raised his hand slightly, a clear sign of his will.

"SILENCE!" his guard's shout resounded through the hall, overpowering the furious shouts of the men who had been barking at each other for hours now. They all turned to look at the king; their faces, a few moments ago darkened and wrinkled with anger, were now smooth and relaxed, their eyebrows raised in astonishment at their king's order. Funny, you thought, how these men because of your husband's condition sometimes simply forget how much power he possessed over them. Before it was as if he wasn't even in the room, and they were all playing at being great leaders, now there they were, staring at him, motionless as statues, submissive as ants. You curled your nose discreetly, your face a mixture of disgust and contempt. Pathetic, you thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, Baldwin finally looked up at the crowd in front of him, finally revealing what it was that had shocked him so much. "Saladin has crossed the Jordan with 200000 men," silence fell, and you felt your body going numb. Your ears seemed muffled, you could barely perceive what was happening around you. At that moment you felt so much fear for your kingdom, and concern for Baldwin and what this impending attack would cost him.

And anger, against those two fools who out of sheer vanity had endangered the lives of all the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They had put Jerusalem itself at risk; they had put Baldwin at risk.

I was brought to attention by Baldwin, who was struggling to pull himself up from his throne, walking toward his most trusted man. "We must meet him before he reaches Kerak. I will lead the army," your husband's voice was hushed and soft, so that only the man in front of him could hear. But it did not escape your ears, the implication those words had: Baldwin wants to stop Saladin, and he wants to do it himself. But this could cost him his life. 

You couldn't stop yourself; you jumped up from your seat, eyes wide in an expression somewhere between fear and surprise. Baldwin turned to look at you, the woman who always took his breath away at the mere sight of how beautiful she was. You did not fail to have that effect on him again this time, but not because of your beauty: in your eyes he saw your terror, that this was the last time you would see him alive. They hypnotized him, and begged him in a silent prayer not to leave, to give up this plan, have an ambassador sent, anyone else. Hell, let him send Guy himself to intercept the Saracen, let him be beheaded and his murder settle the account that he himself opened. But the storm of emotion in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotion flowing from your eyes

But the storm of emotions in your eyes contrasted with the gentle stream of emotions flowing from Baldwin's eyes, barely visible because of the cover concealing his tortured face. He too, through them, was silently pleading with you: but he was asking you to trust, to let go and follow his plan, to try to forget for at least a moment all the warnings the Physicians had given him over the years.

Eventually, you relented, turning your gaze away and opting to stare at a random spot in the corner of the room. Baldwin gave a silent sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, a sign of gratitude, although you could not see it. He turned to the men of his court, and with the little strength his body afforded him, he spoke in a loud, determined voice: "Assemble the army and protect the city."

All this reminded you of the last time Baldwin fought Saladin: he had barely completed his seventeenth year, and young and still full of life, he was ready to ride against the invincible Saracen king. But on that day God had been more merciful. He had granted you, if nothing else, one last night to spend with your husband, had given you the gift of a minimum of time to ensure that you bid Baldwin a proper farewell before he met what could well have been his end. Instead this time, you barely had time to briefly remove the thick veil from his face to give him a fleeting kiss and exchange a handful of words. You fought back the tears as you looked at him, opting instead to bring your hand to his cheek, the flesh of his lip having receded and decayed to such an extent that it had receded down to his cheek, eventually turning into a long scar that protruded down to his cheekbone.

"Let me go with you, I will wait for you at the castle of Reynald de Chatillon-" "No. It is too dangerous. If things go wrong with the negotiations, I don't want you or my sisters anywhere near that man." It was not often that Baldwin interrupted you while you were speaking. He respected you too much to not allow you to finish your sentences, so the fact that he did just now spoke of how important this was to him. 

"Then promise me you’ll come back to me. Safe and sound." He snorted softly, giving a hint of smile before copping his face with his hardened hands, "You know I can’t promise it." You know that, but that blatant honesty of his, which you always loved so much, was not what you wanted at the time. No, you wanted reassurance, no matter how truthful, no matter how worthless his promises may be at the end of the day, You need that fleeting distraction that mitigates the fear that’s been eating you from the inside since Baldwin put on his armor. May you risked never seeing him again.

"Please just say it." Your voice came out much softer than you meant, almost less than a whisper, perhaps because of the knot in your throat, which threatened to break free carrying a river of tears. For a moment he remained silent, turning suddenly his face towards the voice of a nobleman who called him from the entrance of his room, but did not even dignify him with an answer. After all, his attention was completely turned to his world. To you. Before I answered you, I drew your head to his with my hands, so that I could place his forehead against yours. Finally, he spoke softly, in that loving tone that he reserved only for you: "Then I promise you that I will return to you in no more than three days, and when I return I will be victorious, and I will be riding."

After that, that moment between the two of you, which so much looked like a heartbreaking farewell, lasted just before Baldwin had to go to his horse to guide his men to the enemy.

And it wasn’t long before the harsh reality became clear to you: he had lied to you. Not maliciously, of course, you were the one who begged him to say those words after all. But the fact is that three days became four, that news of the army of Jerusalem had not come any more, that the last thing you heard of your husband was that only the ride had already tried his weakened body.

Another day passed, then another, and at the dawn of the fourth day since his absence you felt your heart sink. Had something happened to him? Had the negotiations failed? What if his illness had suddenly got the better of him? Or worse, Saladin and his men had shot him, stabbed him, or yet again captured and publicly executed,…

Your mind began to spiral into an ocean of possible reasons behind this delay, and you swore that your breathing had finally stopped once and for all when a messenger on horseback arrived at the palace, frantically dismounting from his steed to rush into the throne room and bring you the message: "The negotiations were successful, but the king is in critical condition! He is returning to Jerusalem on a canopy," you dismissed the man with a slight wave of your hand, so weak that you almost looked numbed; Baldwin's advisors began to chatter, but the background murmur of their murmurs did not seem to reach your ears. No, your attention was elsewhere; it was entirely on your husband.

You took your leave of the court, hurrying to your rooms. There, like a hawk waiting impatiently for prey to feed on, you perched on the balcony overlooking the city below you, on the walls from which not many days ago Baldwin had emerged leading the army.

It was there that you began to think again, this time with a clearer mind as you knew that at least Baldwin was alive and on his way home. On his way to you. Still, this whole situation reminded you of when you were only sixteen years old, and you stood on that balcony as you do now, waiting to see Baldwin return on his horse. And on that day, when he was visible to the naked eye, and your eyes met, you saw all the life and strength of one who had just defeated the greatest enemy of his time. At that moment, he seemed almost immortal to you: he looked like a god riding proudly, leading the thousands of men behind him towards their home.

How unfair fate is, to cut short his life so early. His physicians gave him no more than thirty years, but that time seemed to you to be shortened even more when you finally caught sight of his canopy. There he lay, sprawled and motionless like a dead body, surrounded by the soft cushions and riders on either side of his transport.

Just two years ago such a journey would not have fatigued him in the least; now he was risking his life just by riding a horse. Your eyes threatened to fill with tears thinking about how much he had loved riding a horse, and now he found himself bedridden, unable in his passions. You wasted no time running through the palace corridors, eager to reach your beloved as soon as possible.

One turn to the right, then another, then down the steps, and finally straight to the palace doors, where the finely decorated canopy led the love of your life.

You rushed to his side, gently taking his mutilated hand in yours while the other stroked his masked face. He breathed faintly, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his strength after his disease had dealt him this last bludgeon. Feeling your gentle touch, Baldwin's eyes fluttered open, his glassy eyes the color of heaven meeting yours.

"You've been reckless, my love. Putting your life at risk just to do the job of a messenger!" you scolded him, but Baldwin only smiled fondly at your words. "I promised you I would've come back. And that I did, alive too." Although his voice was so weak that it sounded more like a huff of air rather than a sentence, its tone was still laced with playfulness.

It made you unable to resist the smile that was threatening to form on your lips; you did not grace him with an answer yet, opting instead to move your hand to remove the silver mask from his face. You could see his surprised and relieved expression, as he was now finally able to breathe more freely and to look at you properly. He breathed in the sight of you, almost as if trying to take in as much of you as he could. "I can't tell if it's the travel or the sight of you that takes my breath away."

You just smiled bitterly and shook your head at his silly declarations, "It must be the ride, it has tired you so much that it's making you speak nonsense." he giggled weakly, much more tiredly this time, almost as if he was about to doze off. But he fought the tiredness nonetheless, opting to just shake his head and admire you with a lovestruck look. "Maybe I am hallucinating, I think I'm seeing heaven above me."

It was supposed to be a compliment that would've made you giggle and blush, like the ones that he showered you with daily. But instead, it made your heart clench at the bare idea of it. The idea that this would be his last moments before the energies spent for this expedition would be too much for him to handle, and God will reclaim his most virtuous man. It made your throat tighten, and your lower lip tremble.

You tried to hide your troubled state, moving your hand quickly to the curve of his neck. There, you placed a soft, butterfly-like kiss on the little places of skin that haven't been mutilated and bloodied by the leprosy. You kissed him one more time, then another, and another again..

In the end, you lost count of how many kisses you had given him, in a desperate attempt to mend your premature grief, to ground yourself in the feeling that Baldwin is there. He is alive. Yet the feeling of his skin against yours, of his chest rising up and down and his arms weakly holding your soft body, it wasn't enough to stop the tears to start flowing down your cheeks.

And that didn't go unnoticed to Baldwin, who mustered all his strength left to hold you just a little tighter. "Have my words upset you?" you sniffled, trying to recollect yourself before lifting your head to look into his eyes. "No, my dear, you could never. I just-" you stopped for a second, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat, "promise me this is the last time. Please, tell me that you will stop this nonsense. Let your trusted men handle these matters, command your man like a king not a general!" your hands had moved to his arms, a gesture to both ground yourself and to accentuate just how desperate you were in that moment, only wanting him to just listen.

"I beg of you, my love, stay here. Where you can rest. We both know that you don't have much more time left to live, so stop doing everything in your power to shorten it anymore." A sob slipped from your mouth at the last part. It truly astonished you how careless he seemed about his own condition, almost as if he forgot that any move could be the death of him.

He frowned and sighed at your words, squeezing your forearms softly before he spoke softly. This time though his tone was clearer, less weakened by the outcomes of the past days. "I already spoke to the physician about this: I have no choice, my angel. I'll be bound to my bed until a miracle will better my condition, or until death will take me."

You shut your eyes in relief, resting your forehead against his and sighing shakily, trying to recompose yourself. "I can't live in a world without you.."

"God will give us more time. I promise I won't leave you as long as I breathe on this earth. And. when my time will be over and there will be no future for us in this life, I'll be waiting for you in heaven, if I'll be granted the blessing of a place next to you there."

Not too long after, the physicians that Saladin had promised him arrived at the palace, and you were assisted as they tended to Baldwin's many wounds caused by his sickness. More than the sight of the gruesome pieces of open flesh, what appalled you was just how numb his body had become, so much so that he did not even feel their hands and tools working into his skin. It made you wonder wether or not he even felt your kisses from before.

And you make yourself that same question months later, when you place one last kiss into his forehead as he slept soundly before going to bed yourself, only to wake up to a cold body beside you. You wonder if he ever got to feel that last gesture of love before God had finally claimed him.

You only found solace in the thought that Baldwin would be resting in the realms of heaven above your head, contrary to what the Saracens believe.

A/N: Wowww this gets more fun by the day!! King Baldwin will probably always be my favorite character to write for. He’s my muse. As always ill be waiting for your feedbacks!!!

Oh and also, be prepared in the future for more fics waiting to be posted, I’ve got about ten that are just waiting for the right time to come to light, and many more will come in the future since I’m really finding it therapeutic to write.

#writers on tumblr #angst #fluff #my fic #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #reynald de chatillon #guy de lusignan #reader insert #f!reader #historical fiction #fanfic #x yn #x reader

[highvern]

Secret Games

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x f!reader

Genre: angst, smut, 18+

Warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, penetrative sex, toxic relationship

Length: 1.7k

Note: i cried writing this. the most toxic piece ive ever written but sometimes fic is the best place to work out issues lmao. originally inspired by girlfriend - avril lavigne but i took it and made it a lot worse. thank you @gyuswhore for being the best beta in the world

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Vernon is convinced the entire universe is playing a practical joke on him. It has to be. Vernon would never cheat on his girlfriend, wouldn’t even entertain the idea, and if someone told him a month ago he’d be where he is now, he’d take them to the hospital for a CT scan. 

But a month ago he hadn’t met you, and now Vernon feels like the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.

He loves Olivia. She’s his soulmate, his favorite person, the girl he told his mom was the one since they started dating when he was a junior in college. Four years together and never once did he question if she was the person he wanted to be with.

Until you.

The only person to blame was himself. Getting caught up in the attention of the newest addition to the friend group, failing to ignore longing looks or sideways glances, reacting to your not so subtle touches. It didn’t matter if his girlfriend was sitting in his lap or she was nowhere to be seen, you seemed to zero in on him the moment you entered the room.

From the first night in the smoky club, you had him in the palm of your hand. Dancing on another man while your eyes never left his. Watching him over the mystery man's shoulder, while Olivia pressed her front to his. Pretended the body under his palms belonged to you, the lips pressed to his neck were yours. 

Something passed between you two that night and since then every waking moment of Vernon’s existence revolved around how shitty of a boyfriend he became when put to the test.

But he’d been better lately. Avoiding nights out where you might be lurking, urging his girlfriend to have as many girls’ nights as she wants, hoping she might be slipping the same way he was. But Olivia didn’t look at anyone the way she looked at him. She’d never betray him, never think twice about another man even when they flirt with her out in the open like her boyfriend isn’t sitting right next to her. 

That knowledge only makes the truth harder to swallow. 

The beginning of the end starts in a small hall closet at Soonyoung’s apartment. Everyone came over to celebrate his recent promotion. Several rounds of drinks later, the subject of celebration insisted in a game of hide and seek. There weren't many options to hide almost twenty bodies but alcohol has a way of soothing practical concerns.

Mingyu’s voice boomed through the apartment, jumping into action immediately and sending bodies scurrying for cover. 

Vernon pulled the closet door tight, praying Jun’s attempt to hide behind a lamp and Jeonghan half sticking out from under the couch would buy him enough time to avoid capture.

He could still hear the older man counting when the door opened. A sliver of light cuts across his eyes, casting the body pressing into the space in shadow. For a split second he thinks its his girlfriend, already laughing with childish glee at being so close.

But then Vernon realizes the person pushing in is you.

“Ready or not!”

Vernon tries to move back as far as he can into the wall but the bite of the shelves into his spine prevent more than a few inches of space between you. The door barely manages to click shut in time for footsteps to trample by, Mingyu’s laughter bleeding through the wood. 

In the darkness, Vernon finds a sudden awareness of your body. The roar of blood in his ears does little to drown out the sound of your breathing. Painfully measured breaths that stop every time someone shuffles by on the other side of the door. The heat radiating off your back across the inch of space between your bodies, a ghost of the real thing.

A loud bang makes you both jump, and with the limited space you end up in flat against Vernon’s chest, his arms around your waist to steady you. He knows you can feel his heart pounding. Not from being caught in such a silly game but from the proximity of your ass to his crotch; bodies firmly suctioned against one another. 

He tries not to react when you wiggle against him in an attempt to create more space. Vernon is desperate for you to ignore the hard curve of his pants, rising with each movement, each inhale of your perfume. 

“Vernon?” you call. “I said you're stepping on my foot.”

“Shit, sorry.” 

“Wait, let me just,” you whisper back.

At that moment, all of his defenses crumble. Chest to chest, your breath brushing against his ear, Vernon knows it’s futile to fight what he’s feeling. Your hands skating down his chest confirm it, rocketing his heart into a tailspin. 

He wants you.

And the way you look up at him, with lazy blinks and a drunk smile, tells Vernon you want him too.

A flush makes its way up his neck and he’s thankful for the darkness you're both absorbed in. The thought of all the others beyond the space you two occupy isn’t a blip in his mind. Vernon doesn’t want you to see what an obvious effect you have on him; even if the evidence is digging into the softness of your stomach.

A pass of your lips against his jaw scorches the flesh. Barely a second of contact; simple, chaste. But the imprint will stain his consciousness forever. Each lave of your tongue against the column of his throat forces him deeper into the pits of hell.

The sting of our teeth precedes an airy whine, “Vernon.”

His head drops back at the sound of his name on your tongue again. He wants to taste, to suck the words out of your mouth while his hands force it from your lips over and over again. 

Just as he’s about to, the door knob jiggles.

“Y/N, Vernon! We know you’re in there! We caught everyone else.”

Splitting apart, the warm light from the hall floods the tight space. Stumbling out, Vernon shoulders past you, past his friends, to where Olivia is waiting with a knowing gaze. He can’t look at her. Can’t look at his friends all laughing drunkenly, declaring you the winner 

Despite the look of absolute disappointment Olivia appraises him with, she doesn’t object when his hand circles her wrist and Vernon tugs her through the front door.

—

Vernon tries to bury what he felt in that closet in his girlfriend’s body. Tries to remember how much he loves her, wants to be with her.

Neither of them seem to be fully present. He can feel it in her body, the way she stiffens under his hands like they freeze her muscles solid. The rasps of Olivia’s half hearted moans churn his stomach, tying knots over and over again until he thinks he might be sick. 

They’ve been knocked off their axis by something, someone. The practiced ease of their bodies is nowhere to be found. She’s a step ahead and he’s a step behind but rather than stop and talk about it like they usually do, they both press forward as if it’s normal.

Who they’re pretending for, Vernon has no idea. Each other? Themselves? All the people who’ve watched their relationship bloom over the years? It doesn’t matter. He can feel years of love turning to dust and he can’t bare to watch.

Thoughts of you break the dam in his mind. How you felt under his hands, your lips against his skin, how you’d taste on his tongue. What sounds you’d make if no one interrupted what was just over the edge in the closet. 

The mirage of you, head thrown back in bliss as you take his cock rockets him to the end. Eyes cinched shut, imagination running rampant. It’s you underneath him, skin sticking to his, nails raking down his spine. It’s the smell of your shampoo still lingering in his nose as he buries his face in Olivia’s neck and loses himself in the motions. 

Vernon doesn’t realize he cums with your name on his lips until Olivia’s sobs reach his ears.

–

You shudder against the freezing wind, puffs of smoke washing away as soon as they exit your nostrils. A bile of shame and regret burns the back of your throat; something not even the sting of liquor is able to drive away. But that won’t stop you from drinking straight from the bottle you nabbed from Mingyu’s hand before running outside.

Maybe it's the weed or the booze but you’ve never felt so empty. A bitter hollowness, rotting you to the core. Tear tracks stain your cheeks, prickling in the frigid winter air. The cacophony of street noise falls on deaf ears as you replay the events filling you with misery.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Flirting with Vernon had been Olivia’s idea. A friend helping a friend. She wanted to test his loyalty. Begged you to help her assuage her doubts about their relationship. Vernon’s lack of reassurance, her belief that he’d leave her for someone else. All you were supposed to do was smile and make bedroom eyes and see if he’d cave. When that didn’t work, she told you to step it up; looks turned into touches, and flirty comments turned into late night texts where she told you exactly what to say to have him wrapped around his finger. 

And when that didn’t work, she shoved you into the closet with her boyfriend to see what’d take place in the dark, away from prying eyes.

Olivia got what she thought she wanted in the end. A nod from you was all the confirmation she needed as her boyfriend whisked her out the door. 

No one else seemed to pick up the tension trickling out of the closet. They were all so eager to believe that Vernon and Olivia were in love; the type of couple who you aspire to be like, so wrapped up in one another that the thought of them separated made no logical sense. Why would Vernon even consider someone else? The thought he’d do anything to jeopardize such a clandestine pairing wasn’t even a thought in the horizon.

The buzz of your phone knocks you from your stupor. A humorless huff of air sighs through your nose as you silence the fourth call in the last ten minutes. Barely a second for the same name to pop up again.

Incoming call… Vernon Chwe

-

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#svthub #kvanity #ksmutsociety #vernon smut #svt smut #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #vernon fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #vernon imagines #hansol vernon chwe #🫡 highvern