#i mean i have a plot... i just need it to be written down

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓 (𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠)

SYNOPSIS: You and Lee Heeseung are pursuing the same major, and the two of you have always been the top students in your cohort throughout your university years. Although you have never exactly interacted with him, sometimes you catch him staring at you, and the intensity of his gaze is enough to knock the breath out of you. After being heavily involved with his comrades, you should be staying away from him, you should be avoiding him at all costs, and yet, in your vulnerable state, including the lust clouding your better judgement, you fall for his dark allure, allowing him to breach through the walls that you built to protect yourself from them.

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

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

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, assault, mild violence, profanities, yandere, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, dubcon theme, unprotected sex (no!), mean&softdom!hee (he’s unpredictable), name calling (slut, sweetheart, pretty, baby), manhandling, degradation, car sex, slight bondage, gagging, choking, dry humping, blowjob, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hee is very much obsessed with reader.

WORD COUNT: 35.8k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, 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 2, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7

✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

PLAYLIST: Infected - Sickick, Triggered - Chase Atlantic, Okay - Chase Atlantic, House of Ballons - The Weeknd, Lights Down Low - Maejor, Wet the bed - Chris Brown, Under the influence - Chris Brown, Drive You Insane - Daniel Di Angelo, Talk Dirty - Daniel Di Angelo, So It Goes - Taylor Swift, Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey.

RUBY'S NOTE: there are still flaws here and there, so if you need any clarification from me due to how poorly i executed the plot and etc, you may do so! do pardon how lengthy it is! also, it turns out smuts are actually not my expertise (i struggled sm) :skull face:

The radiance deriving from the moonlight casts a gentle glow in the room, allowing him to gaze upon the beautiful serenity on your face as he remains stationary by the window sill with his folded arms across his chest, ostensibly posing as a bodyguard to obviate any danger from reaching you.

Danger? The lovely irony elicits a lowly scoff from him, yet the corner of his lips curves upward into a smirk. Indeed, it is lovely, because there is a potential danger at this very moment that could inflict harm on you as you have fallen into the realm of dreams, rendering you wholly vulnerable and defenceless.

The embodiment of danger ─ Lee Heeseung.

Fortunately for you, Heeseung has no intention of harming you, not that he ever had. A single movement from you as you stir lightly in your slumber captures his keen eyes, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest before re-centering his attention on your angelic face. 

Without a doubt, your divine beauty captivated his attention from the moment he saw you entering the auditorium on your first day as a freshman, and still do ─ your naturally long dark lashes fluttering with your eyes gleaming genuine interest whenever your attention is fixed on something or someone, the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile, your luscious pink lips that entice him to kiss you, your soft wavy hair that is currently spread out in tendrils-like, and just every inch and part of your contour is perfect to him.

You are perfect in his eyes. So, so perfect, and so his…

In the beginning, it started out as an infatuation, completely ensnared by your captivating beauty and the regal ambience you exuded in the way you carried yourself with grace, while his eyes would follow you wherever you were in his range. He even vividly memorised your habits, which he found endearing, like how you would fiddle with the silver cross and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth whenever you grew nervous or simply worried over your results, and nevertheless, he knew that you would always excel.

You are the epitome of beauty with a brain, as you truly are. Oh, you are unequivocally his dream woman.

Unlike his peers, Heeseung has never found any issue with your reputation as Crestview Meadow’s good girl or renowned for being faithful and dutiful to your religion. Rather, he loves the purity glowing in the way you smile, your sparkling eyes, your infectious laughter, your gentle touch, and just anything you do.

From there, the infatuation evolved into something so profound that he knew he couldn’t afford to let you go, even after graduating from university. He yearns for his presence to be permanently etched in your life. He is not exaggerating when he says that all hell will break loose if he ever loses you. No, he feels that he might actually die at the grim possibility of losing you.

To this day, it astounds him that he manages to abstain from pursuing you first after all these years of his yearning and lust for you, especially when the light in you is a constant magnetic allure to his darkness. Even now, a gravitational pull seems to draw him closer and closer to you until he finally halts his steps, looming over you next to the bed.

Heeseung crouches down on one knee, his eyes remaining fixated on your serene countenance as he grabs strands of your hair that feel soft on his callous hand. His touch is one of reverence as he raises your strands in his possession to his nose, inbreathing the fragrance of your shampoo with his eyes fluttering close.

Even your scent is enough to tame his raging tenebrosity. Bringing your soft strands to his lips as he kisses them daintily, a distinct recollection comes to light ─ one that has the darkness perilously lurking in the trenches of his wreckage mind.

“Have you called for me, father?”

Heeseung has his hands clasped behind his back while his cold countenance is impassive and his stance embodies that of a soldier ready to serve, standing across from his father, who remains seated in his ebony swivel chair.

“Yes.” The elder ceases his engrossment in the paperwork before he finally diverts his attention to his youngest son, meeting Heeseung’s steely eyes that reflect the same as his. “I heard that Devil’s Night will commence in a few days' time. How is the preparation coming along?”

“Everything is going smoothly. You don’t have to concern yourself with anything regarding Devil’s Night, father.” A certain edge in Heeseung’s tone is not dismissed by the elder, amplifying the palpable tension between them. “As for the roadblocks, we might have to expand─”

“Son.” The sheer authority of a single interruption is enough to silence Heeseung, especially when he notices his father’s grim countenance. “The sole reason I called you here is because of Y/N Kang.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows arch inquisitively while his frown deepens at the fact that his father knows of your existence. “How do you know her?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know her.” His father dodges the question deftly, overshadowed by the austerity in his manner. “Under no circumstances should you approach the girl, let alone foist terror on her.”

Heeseung blinks his eyes, clearly taken aback by the elder’s fierce conviction. “All this time, you have never interfered in any of my business, so why now?”

Heeseung’s father heaves a sigh as he rubs his temple. “Son─”

“For that matter, you’ve never cared enough about me. I don’t see why it is necessary for you to involve yourself in whatever I do now.” Heeseung cuts him off sharply before he scoffs out a smirk, staring at him condescendingly. “And now that you’ve mentioned Y/N Kang, perhaps I should invite her to Devil’s Night and include her in the hunt.”

“Lee Heeseung!” The resounding thud due to both palms on the surface of the mahogany table as well as the patent wrath emanating from the elder doesn’t deter Heeseung the slightest, but rather, this only fuels Heeseung’s resolution to go against his father’s audacious warning.

“Do enlighten me, father.” Mockery drips from Heeseung’s tone. “What relations do you have with Y/N? And why her out of all people?”

The fleeting sentiment flickers in his father’s eyes are intelligible, to which Heeseung’s piqued curiosity reaches its peak. Why in the world would his father bear such guilt?

“She’s the daughter of─” His father pauses, and the hesitation in his silence is crystal clear. He shakes his head before allowing the austerity to patch up on his countenance. “This is a direct order, not only as your father but as the chief, that under no circumstances should you prey on Y/N Kang. She is better off without you having to impose your corruption on her.”

“Oh, but on the contrary, I will.” Heeseung unfurls a cynical smile on his lips, his tone holding dark promises that not even his father can decipher the conniving schemes he may or may not possibly have formulated in his complex mind. “Even if you hadn’t mentioned her, it wouldn’t change the fact that she would eventually be preyed on by us. Oh, and father?”

Heeseung looms ominously over his father’s seated figure, his dark gaze penetrating into the elder’s, allowing him to catch a glimpse of unadulterated malignance in his eyes. “I’ll turn a blind eye to your audacity in ordering me to stay away from my beloved, since after all, you’re my father.”

“Lee Heeseung─”

“Y/N Kang belongs to me.” Heeseung cuts him off with a growl. “She will be mine, one way or another, and it would be wise for you to avoid meddling with my business, especially involving my beloved.”

“Son, listen to me.” Even as his father uses his authoritarian tone, it isn’t enough to dissuade Heeseung as the latter begins to make his departure from his father’s office, leaving the elder to resort to an option that is rather perilous. “Fine. Do you really want to know the reason? It’s because I’d hate for Y/N to end up like that poor girl.”

Just as the elder expected, Heeseung comes to an abrupt halt, his body flinches visibly as though a trigger button has set off within him. “What?” His tone denotes a warning, akin to a ticking bomb.

His father heaves a deep sigh as he rises from his seat. “This is the exact same pattern as it was before. Did you or did you not develop an obsession for the girl just as you do now with Y/N? Feel free to prove me wrong.”

Heeseung curls his hand into a fist while the other clutches the handle in a deadly grip. “You’re wrong, father.”

“Am I, really? As far as I’m aware, things won’t ever bode well for anyone closely associated with you and your friends.”

“Shut up.” Heeseung snarls coldly, the anger is brimming in his veins. “You know nothing.”

But the elder continues, “Can’t you see, son? For as long as you remain unchanged with your corruptive tendencies, you destroy everything you touch! Just look at what happened three years ag─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung swiftly throws the melee knife as it cuts through the air sharply, gusting past his father’s head and impaling on the bulletin board behind the elder.

Despite his father having expected such unpredictable stunts from his son, his heart hammers violently against his chest. If Heeseung had missed, the elder would have probably lost an eye.

“You know better than to bring that up.” Heeseung’s dark eyes are void of any forbearance, while his tone is eerily calm. His eyes flicker at his melee knife before returning to his father’s unwavering gaze, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “And next time, I won’t miss it.”

Even the mere thought of his father is enough to kindle his burning resentment towards him. Oh, Heeseung loathes his father for as long as he can remember.

Despite the fact that his father has an esteemed reputation as the Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, almost everyone is fearful of him purely out of reverence, well, except Heeseung anyway.

To Heeseung, he sees his father as nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a husband to his wife. Correction: ex-wife, aka Heeseung’s biological mother. His parents divorced and went their separate ways when he was twelve, and his older brothers were sixteen. His father won custody over them, resulting in his mother leaving them behind. At that point in time, Heeseung didn’t understand the rationale behind their divorce since his parents used to be a loving couple, and so he began to develop such abhorrence for his father, especially when the elder decided to marry someone new a few months later.

Most importantly, Heeseung loathes that his father’s morality and advocacy do nothing to change the fact that the elder remains a hypocrite after the discovery Heeseung uncovered. It is also the exact reason why he has every intention of obscuring the truth from you, because the said discovery obliquely involves you.

A single movement from you pulls him out of his rumination, prompting his eyes to settle on your figure as you stir in your slumber. He holds your strands delicately, inbreathing your fragrance, which has been imprinted on his mind, once more before he decides to move away from you.

The longer your vulnerability remains at his disposal, the harder it is for him to defy his depravity.

As Heeseung saunters towards the ajar door, it is slowly being pushed open, revealing Jay. The latter doesn’t look entirely surprised at Heeseung’s presence in his room, as his face is devoid of emotion.

When their eyes meet, there is an unspoken understanding between them. Giving Heeseung a firm head nod, Jay proceeds to amble past him as he heads towards you.

“Jay?” Your slumberous voice prompts Heeseung to look over his shoulder, watching as Jay adjusts himself to settle next to you while your hand sluggishly reaches out for Jay.

“I’m here, baby.” Jay whispers affectionately as he grabs your hand.

Heeseung silently watches the two of you, seeing how adorably whiny you are amidst your somnolence, with your limbs now tangled with his as Jay cradles you close to his chest.

Oddly enough, Heeseung doesn’t harbour any raging jealousy or resentment towards his best friends, whom you have grown unmistakably attached to. Sure, in the very beginning, he utterly despised every stare at you from the other guys and bore murderous thoughts of gauging out their eyeballs, but now, when it comes to his best friends, he doesn’t feel as deeply murderous.

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that they have successfully ensnared you with their distinctive dark allures, tainting you with their corruption, as everything is going according to how he envisioned it, which he is pleased with.

All that is left is the very devil, as it remains in its slumber, who has long since waited for you.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

The monotony of keyboards collectively typing away is teeming in the cold, sterile examination hall, with each journalism major in their assigned seats that are meticulously arrayed. Minutes have stretched into an hour or so, and thus, your immersion begins to wane as your mind drifts off to the thought of the very three men whom you are undoubtedly head over heels for.

Just yesterday, Sunghoon and Jake managed to spend time together with you, almost involving something rather blasphemous, until Jay decided to steal you away from them, which resulted in their squabbling. Now, you wonder if there will ever be a moment where they will set aside their petty dispute over who gets to have you in his possession before the others get their turn.

Your eyes begin to subconsciously wander to your fellow peers across the hall before they stop at Wonyoung and Winter, who are seated in the same row from across the hall. Instinctively, the familiar sadness coils around your heart before a stab of regret comes.

Although it has only been a few days since you last spoke, it feels as though it’s been one miserable year instead. A part of you still harbours resentment for their hypocrisy, but the sensible part of you yearns for your best friends.

You know for yourself that your close association with the leaders is the reason why your best friends have begun hating you, but perhaps there are some truths in their words. You have changed, and you admit that at times you don't even recognise yourself. So how dare you even bear a single yearning thought about the ones who only wanted the best for you?

You shake your head before deciding to direct your focus on finishing off the last paragraph, but your eyes betray your focal point as they sweep over to the guy adorned in a familiar black cap, and to make it worse, he’s seated across from you.

The only guy who has ever been academically on par with you consistently throughout your university years, and the one who daunts you the most, is none other than Lee Heeseung.

You should really look away before he catches you overtly staring at his side profile, but how can you not? Especially when the bill shadowing his striking features does nothing to veil his handsomeness.

Your eyes begin to trace the outline of his features, admiring his perfectly chiselled nose bridge, his dark lashes, his lips, whose bottom lip is adorned with a metal lip ring, silver studs and drop earrings adorning his earlobes, and the black ink tattooed in his skin at the side of his neck with an interesting design of an intricate chipped sword.

Heat creeps up from your neck to your ears. He is undeniably a sinful sight for you to behold.

It appears that he must have felt the intensity of your gaze on him as he turns his head only to lock your eyes with his, and that is also when realisation hits you like a brick of the very reason why you have always felt perturbed around him.

The intensity of his dark eyes alone is enough to knock the breath out of you. You want to look away, but it is as if his allure manages to paralyse you. Your eyes flicker down at a movement of his lips, unfurling a soft smirk, and your heart does a tiny leap.

Damn it. That’s the thing about Heeseung ─ even his bare minimum manages to have an impact on you. Despite his notorious reputation, his dark yet mystifying allure always seems to draw people in, and as much as you hate to admit it, he draws you in just the same, like a moth to a flame.

However, unlike the others, you refused to indulge your inquisitiveness and chose the safest route, which involved keeping your distance from Heeseung. That is, until recently. You recall his touch on your skin and how he whispered in your ear the other day when you were seeking Jay. You shudder lightly. Everything about him screams devilish.

For a moment there, you knew that you wanted him to touch you in the way his best friends do, despite the danger beneath his touch.

You force yourself to break eye contact with him and finally focus on typing away your last paragraph before submitting your exam paper online. Just like some of your fellow peers, you begin packing your belongings into your bag, trying your utmost to ignore Heeseung’s invasive gaze on your figure that continues to unnerve you.

In your peripheral vision, you see him standing up as he too has submitted his, and so your every movement becomes rapid before you finally navigate your way to the exit, walking past other students who are probably finding your briskness odd.

You are too inattentive to your surroundings to even feel self-conscious of the stares you are getting, only recalling Heeseung’s predatory gaze earlier, and just the thought of Heeseung alone manages to plague your cluttered mind.

It’s not just his predatory gaze, but it’s the fact that you feel as though he is able to read through you and invade every corner of your mind, uncovering any secrets you have and unravelling them one by one.

You have long since admitted that Lee Heeseung, the son of the esteemed Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, terrifies you despite the fact that his handsomeness often enthrals you, especially after putting the final piece of the puzzle that he is indeed one of your predators on Devil’s Night. White. 

Although you have every intention of avoiding being closely associated with Heeseung, you know that it is impossible, especially when he lives in the same palace as the others. Plus, you have a gut-twisting feeling that he’ll begin his approach just as his best friends did.

Besides, your very first mistake was attending Devil’s Night, where you finally interacted with the mask version of him. Your second mistake was allowing him to touch you and invade your personal space.

You hope you’ll be proven wrong and that you’re just being delusional to think he would ever waste his time on you. You already have too much on your plate ─ the unresolved issue with your parents and your best friends, your undeclared relationship status with the three guys, and the anonymous person….

‘Ding!’

You whip out your phone from your pocket, and a frown automatically pulls at your lips as you begin to read his text. Just when you thought he wouldn’t send you anymore cryptic messages.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Congratulations on finishing your last exam. Any plans for vacation?

A scoff falls past your lips. Unbelievable. Not only did his last text still give you the creeps, but the audacity of him to act as if nothing happened. Each tap on your phone screen gets progressively more aggressive as you type out your response, expressing your irritation for him.

Y/N: I didn’t realise you could start casually texting me as if you were my friend. If you still don’t get the hint, leave me alone, Heeseung.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Still insisting that I’m Heeseung?

Y/N: Unless you prove to me that you’re not him, then yes. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I posed no threat to you.

Y/N: Then what are you? Are you a friend or a foe?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can be your friend only if you choose to be cooperative with me. Besides, don’t you need one? Considering your friends have already abandoned you.

Your nose flares slightly, angered by the fact that he hits your sore spot.

Y/N: I don’t need you as my friend.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: But you do need me, especially when it concerns your safety.

Just before you have the intention to block him, you halt, now standing in the busy forum with bustling students that fade into insignificance as his words strike a chord in you.

Y/N: My safety? Why do you care so much about me?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Like I said, before, you’re a nice girl, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.

You frown, confusion plastered on your face as you slowly amble forward. You don’t recall him telling you that.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Plus, I don’t want history to repeat itself.

Y/N: What kind of history?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You don’t know? Ah, right. Everything was swept under the rug.

Y/N: Just get straight to the point or I’ll block you for real.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: For now, you only need to know that they’re not good people. 

Y/N: And you are? 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I never said anything about me being good, but one thing is for sure is that I’m not the bad guy in your story, sweetheart.

Y/N: I’m getting really annoyed at you. You keep beating around the bush and playing with words, but I still don’t feel at ease despite your declaration.

You wait for his response, but nothing happens. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperate for answers to allay your inner turmoil.

Y/N: Stop messing with my sanity

But before you can press send, you bump into someone’s shoulder, causing an imbalance for you as you almost fall back if it weren’t for reflexive hands steadying you.

There is a flicker of surprise in your eye as you stare at him while your cheeks flush pink. “Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu eyes you concernedly, still holding you by the waist. “Are you alright? I’m sorry for bumping into you.”

“No, it was my fault.” You exhale, chuckling nervously as you regain composure.

Beomgyu seems to study your expression while you begin to feel self-conscious of his invasive eyes, reminding you of Heeseung earlier. “Something on your mind? You were looking down at your phone the whole time.”

Your eyebrow arches inquisitively. “Were you watching me?”

Something so cryptic flickers in his eyes fleetingly before a soft smile forms on his charming countenance. “No. I just have quick observational skills.” He merely jests.

“Oh,” Even conversing with Beomgyu does nothing to pull you out of your distraught thoughts. You offer him a nimble smile. “Sorry about that. I have to go.”

“Wait.” Beomgyu’s hand latches around your wrist just as you brush past him. When you look at him, he appears rather bashful. “Since exam season is over, do you have anything in your schedule?”

“Maybe.” You answer slowly, uncertain if you actually do have plans other than rotting in your bed. “Why?”

“Well, the guys and I will be going for a two day, one night staycation at the water play park near the resort of Yeonjun’s parents’ business tomorrow.” Beomgyu looks hopeful, and you can almost imagine his ears perking up in a puppy-like way. “Do you want to join us?”

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Nervousness seeps through your chuckles. “But I’m not sure─”

“She’s not available.” A familiar voice startles you, followed by his arm wrapping around your shoulder, which has you turning your head and staring at him in disbelief while he remains casual about it as he maintains eye contact with Beomgyu. “She’ll be with me for the next few days or so.”

What?! You are certain he is able to hear your disbelieving scream echoing in your head as your eyes narrow at the smirk playing on his lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu tucks his clenched fist into his pocket while adorning an amiable grin at his close friend. “Ah, that’s too bad, then. I would have invited you and the others to join us too, Heeseung.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” If anything, Heeseung is most definitely not apologetic in his nonchalance.

Beomgyu offers the two of you a tight smile. “Have fun, you two. Gotta enjoy our deserving vacation.”

Heeseung reciprocates with a cold smirk. “Damn right, we do.”

“Wait─” But your voice is unheard as Heeseung pulls you with him, brushing past Beomgyu. The space between you and Heeseung is practically nonexistent, allowing you to get a whiff of his strong cologne.

First of all, you are greatly annoyed by Heeseung’s brazen intervention. Second of all, he smells so good that you want to bask in his scent. Third of all, what the hell just happened?

“Heeseung.” You try to get his attention, but the guy seems persistent in dragging you with him until you finally gain full awareness of your surroundings, noticing that you’re in the campus parking lot.

The familiar sight of his sleek black Audi greets you as he slowly releases you from his possession. Before you can finally say your piece, his gesture of opening the passenger door for you renders you flabbergasted, despite the confusion lingering in your mind.

You blink your eyes at him while his face is devoid of emotion. “Get in.”

He sounds nothing like how he conversed with Beomgyu earlier. His voice is a low rumble that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. His tone indicates no objections from you. His penetrating dark eyes into yours is a challenge for you if you dare to defy him.

Refusing to show him that you are greatly intimidated by him, your titled chin is a hint of defiance as you maintain eye contact with him, but even you know for yourself that your shaky pupils are out of fear for the glowering male.

“No.”

“No?” Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at you, finding your resistance oddly adorable. He scoffs out a chuckle, his lips upturning a smirk, while his tongue glides across his bottom lip as he moves closer to you. “I wasn’t asking, sweetheart.”

You try your utmost not to falter at the close proximity between your faces while the tip of his hat nearly hovers over your head with how he is leaning down to you. The danger lurking in his eyes sends your heart palpating. But you remain adamant. “And why should I listen to you?” 

“Because I said so.” Heeseung says so softly, a deception you recognise. The smirk remains on his lips. “Come on, now. Don’t disappoint me. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

The moment his thumb touches your bottom lip, it feels like you have lost the ability to speak. With his dark eyes pinning yours, he caresses your lip sensually while your head is spinning due to the effect he has on you. 

“Get inside the car now, sweetheart.” 

This time, you decide to heed his words, listening to your better instinct. Settling in the passenger seat awkwardly, you watch as he closes the door and proceeds to switch on the ignition.

With both hands on the leathered steering wheel, he takes a quick glance at you, noticing your discomfort in the stiffness of your body language while you gaze at the window before he refocuses on driving out of the campus parking lot.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m driving you to your doom.” His lighthearted comment does nothing to alleviate the taut tension in your shoulders. “Also, you should keep your distance from Beomgyu.”

A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips as you finally direct your focus on him. “And why should I listen to you?”

Heeseung’s demeanour remains indifferent, his eyes not meeting yours. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“You don’t know what’s good for me.” You retort rather haughtily, but the second his dark eyes meet yours fleeting as the vehicle comes to a stop, you deflate, fiddling mindlessly with your fingers as your hands are resting on your lap. “Sorry.”

You inwardly wince at your feeble apology when you know that you have nothing to apologise for, yet you did anyway. You lower your gaze. “You said to trust you, but I don’t trust you in the slightest, Heeseung. For that matter, we’re not even friends.”

“You’re right. We’re not friends.” His fingers grip your chin firmly, titling your head up. A soft smile unfurls on his lips. “Because you’re more than that to me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask quietly, confusion wrapping around your head, yet at the same time, you kind of have a sense of what he meant. A part of you is just afraid to acknowledge it, knowing that if you do, you’ll most likely be inclined to succumb to his dark magnetic allure.

Heeseung simply disregards your question as he redirects his attention on the road, now driving on the familiar route to your dormitory. As much as you want him to elaborate himself, you decide to save your energy, resorting to silence and looking forward to keeping your distance from him.

Finally arriving at the entrance point, you unbuckle your seatbelt, eager to flee from him, but as you attempt to open the door, it remains locked. You shoot him a perplexing stare. “Heeseung.”

“I won’t unlock it unless you have to give me your word that you’ll keep your distance from Beomgyu first.” Heeseung admonishes, his tone indicating no room for refusal.

“But why?” You press, unconcealing your frustration. “He has been nothing but nice to me. What do you even have against him? I thought he’s your close friend.”

The sentiments glinting in his eyes are indecipherable, leaving you to wonder about the complexity of his mind. “He’s not someone you should be around with every so often.” He states calmly.

“Oh, and you are?” You ask sardonically, mustering a smile that displays your sarcasm. “Seriously, Heeseung, I don’t know what makes you think that I would listen to you, but if this is you being concerned for me, don’t be. We don’t even have any relation to each other. So you can drop this pretence of yours, because I’m not about to fall for whatever trap you set up.”

Cold silence shrouds both of you as you remain in a heated staring contest with him before you spot a movement, though subtle. Just the slightest movement of his jaw clenching is what it takes for you to discern his annoyance for you before trailing your eyes back to his dark ones. You swallow harshly, moistening your dry throat.

“Heeseung─” 

“You should go.” 

The sound of the door unlocking startles you. You look at him, noticing him turning his head away from you. Oddly, guilt strings in your heart at the probability of hurting Heeseung with your words.

“Fine, I’ll keep my distance from Beomgyu.” You find yourself acquiescing, and you genuinely have no idea why, but maybe you’d hate for Heeseung to remain disappointed in you. Upon receiving no response from him, you huff pettily. “Thanks for the ride, anyway.” You mutter dryly as you open the door.

Just as your foot steps out of the car, his voice pulls you back. “You should stay over at the palace since we’re on a long break before graduation. Plus, I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to have you there.”

You look over your shoulder, a mask of indifference on his face. “Can I, really?”

Heeseung hums lazily, the corner of his lips tipping up a smirk. “Sweetheart, you are more than welcome. Besides, the closer you are to us, the better.”

Something stirs in your tummy. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do, and I hope you’ll make your decision soon.” Heeseung takes you by surprise as he grabs your hand tenderly and raises it up to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckle, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. “Even better if you decide to show up by the entrance gate tonight.”

“Hee...” His name is uttered in a whisper as you watch him press a kiss on your fingertip. You were right. His pink lips feel so soft.

“I’m sure you must’ve felt so lonely in your dorm.” Heeseung states knowingly, still holding your hand tenderly. As he places one last yet sensual kiss on your palm, your heart flutters at his darkened eyes pinning yours and the smirk curving at his lips. “At the palace, you won’t ever have to feel so alone, because you have us to give you whatever you need, pretty girl.”

Any negative thoughts you have about Heeseung instantly dissipate as you succumb to his magnetic allure. Disappointment seeps through you at the loss of his touch. 

“Go on, pretty.” If you told your freshman self that in a few years, your rival would call you pretty, she wouldn’t believe it.

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Heeseung was right. Ever since your association with the leaders has been divulged, it ensued to sever your friendship with your friends, including the ones whom you thought would be okay with the alteration in you, and thus, you began to feel a profound sense of loneliness.

Initially, you didn’t want to admit that you had missed your girl companionships, but what Heeseung said to you earlier struck a chord in you. Damn right, you feel lonely. How could you not be when your roommates often had the other girls over for dinner or simply fun hangouts? Or when your roommates were huddled on the couch as they watched some dramas. You used to do all of that with them, minus the drinking session.

Of course, you could’ve joined them and pushed your ego aside, but what held you back was the not-so-discreet stares and even glares from the girls whenever you went out of your room to grab something from the fridge or simply the audacious sight of you in their vision.

Just like earlier, when Karina, Yunjin, and Wonyoung were gathered by the kitchen island, laughter filling the air promptly ceased and hostility returned at the sight of you walking past them.

Did it hurt? Yeah, it did, but your face often remained devoid of emotions, contradicting the sentimentality that ached in your heart. Perhaps what hurts you the most is the fact that they will always be fine with or without you. Heck, they even look happier now that you’re out of the picture.

Hence, it is exactly why the firm decision you made leads you to the very palace you have grown rather fondly attached to, despite the traumatic memories of Devil’s Night that are embedded in your mind.

You press on the button cemented on the veneered wall next to the grand golden gates for the second time before looking up at the outdoor CCTV camera and raising your hand to give it an awkward wave while a sheepish smile forms on your lips.

Nevermind the fact that you look like an idiot at the moment. You hope that at least someone is inspecting through this CCTV camera since your impatience denotes your avidity for seeing the three men who now occupy your mind and heart.

Your lips flatten as the gate remains unopened, but before you can press the button for the third time, your ears perk up at the sound of blaring exhausts emanating from motorbikes, prompting you to turn around just to see three bikers approaching the gate.

Naturally, you assume that they’re Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, but your excitement dwindles as soon as you are able to distinguish their figures while one of them pushes up his visor. Your shoulders go slouched, crestfallen.

“Why the long face, darling?” Sunoo’s fox-like eyes meet yours, his tone a teasing taunt. “Disappointed that we’re not the ones you thought we were?”

You shift uncomfortably as their attention is fixed on you. Deciding to be courteous, you offer Sunoo a small yet wry smile in response.

“What are you doing here?” Riki’s deep voice is conspicuous despite the unremitting blaring of their engine’s exhaust.

After a brief silence, you begin to speak up. A tinge of nervousness is evident in your tone. “Heeseung said I was welcome to stay over, so here I am.” You smile awkwardly, uncertain of the expression plastered on their faces due to their helmets.

Jungwon pushes his visor up, allowing you to meet his striking feline-like eyes. “Heeseung, huh?” In the way he speaks, you can discern his melding of curiosity and mischief.

“Heeseung and the others are not back yet.” Sunoo informs you as he releases his grip from the clutches to adjust his fingerless black gloves, leaning back slightly. “You should’ve called and informed them of your coming here.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You mumble as your lips go pouty, something rather habitual whenever you feel sulky. You become startled at the tolling sound of the gates opening.

“Come on, then.” Jungwon makes a gesture, beckoning you over to him. “You’re lucky we have authorisation access to enter the palace.”

Not too long later, you find yourself seated on the motorbike behind Jungwon, one hand gripping Jungwon’s broad shoulders for support while the other clutching the strap of your shoulder bag as he drives alongside Sunoo and Riki to the route of the massive garage that eventually greets your vision.

"So, were you guys with them?” You break the ice as soon as you dismount from Jungwon’s motorbike.

“Kind of.” Jungwon answers your question as he removes his helmet, whereas Riki, being the usual nonchalant he is, decides to head inside first. “We were just riding around town with them before they headed off somewhere.”

“Why? Worried that they’re with other girls?” Sunoo shoots you a lopsided grin, and his eyes twinkle teasingly at your sour expression. “I’m kidding. They only have eyes for you, darling.”

You huff annoyedly at him before returning your attention to Jungwon, whom you find more tolerable than the blond-haired one. “So what are you guys doing here? I know for a fact that you don’t live here.”

“Riki left something of his, but we also want to hang out here for a bit before the Hyungs decide to kick us out.” There is a knowing glint in Jungwon’s eye. “Especially since you’re here.”

Sunoo saunters forward and slings his arm around Jungwon’s neck. “It looks like you’ll be staying here overnight.” Sunoo points out with a pout on his lips, noticing your shoulder bag. “You’re privileged, you know? The fact that you have your very own personalised room here─”

“Wait, my own room? Here?” You cut him off, a genuine surprise tinges in your tone.

“You don’t know?” Sunoo raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you while a frown tugs at his lips. “All the while you’ve been here, they’ve never shown you to your room?”

“No.” You answer slowly, your cheeks warming as you avoid their gaze. “But why? I didn’t think I needed one since I was always in either of their rooms.”

“Well, now that you know, you should really count yourself lucky.” Jungwon scoffs out a smirk, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Jay so fucking smitten over a girl before, until you.”

“Come on! I’ll show you to your room.” Sunoo offers his arm to you, and despite him always putting you off, you don’t hesitate to hook your arm around his bicep before he proceeds to guide you, with Jungwon trailing behind.

“I’m just going to ignore the fact that you got to see my room before I did.” You shoot him a playful scowl, to which he reciprocates with his tongue sticking out to you before he takes you by surprise as he maintains the conversation flowing despite the occasional banter bounces off between the two of you.

All the while, Jungwon remains totally silent behind you as you ascend the stairs, and you have grown comfortable with your arm around Sunoo’s. Reaching the second floor, you get startled at the sight of Riki in a newly designed purple mask.

Sunoo, who feels your body jolting in surprise, narrows his eyes at the tall male. “Not the right time to scare her, Riks.”

“I wasn’t.” Riki tilts his head, confusion lacing his tone. He points his index finger at his face. “Check it out. My new mask for the next Halloween season.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sunoo rolls his eyes uninterestedly at him before giving you a lopsided smile and changing his tone. “Your room’s one level away. Let’s go, darling.”

“Jungwon.” Riki calls out for him, prompting the latter to head over to him while Sunoo continues to guide you.

If there is one thing about Sunoo, it is that he is chattier than you expect him to be. Even when you’re already out of capacity to keep up with his ongoing chatter, he manages to be entertained by your silence.

“Here we are.” Sunoo chirps as both of you are standing in front of a cream-coated door.

Your loosening arm around his eventually falls to your side while you stare at the door with incredulity, doubts lingering in your mind. “Are you sure this is not a prank?”

“Trust me, darling, if I wanted to prank you, I would’ve already pushed you off into a pool filled with piranhas.”

You gasp at him, your eyes widening in horror, whereas Sunoo seems so laid-back, with a grin adorning his face. “I would hardly call that a prank.”

“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t dare prank you that involves your safety, or else they’ll have my head.” Sunoo chuckles, his body leaning towards you to boop your nose with his finger. “Do make yourself comfortable. If you need us, we’ll be somewhere at the arcade or the bar for the next hour, most probably.”

Sunoo brushes past you, leaving you to fight against your doubt momentarily before you heave a sigh and decide to enter the room that you can now call yours. As soon as you step in and switch on the light, a soft gasp leaves your lips while your eyes twinkle in wonderment at the lovely sight of your room. 

The white-painted wall makes the room look rather spacious than it already is. A queen-sized bed presses up against the wall with an interesting white shell-designed headboard, and the sheets are in pastel pink. You can’t help but release soft chuckles, spotting Sanrio soft toys arrayed horizontally on the bed.

You continue to admire every detail of the room as you saunter forward. By the window sill, there is ample space for three people to sit on top of the cushion. There is also a walk-in closet room, to which you keenly head inside and switch on the light, only to be greatly shocked at the fact that the wardrobes have already been supplied with a variety of clothes and even shoes and some high heels on each shelf.

All the while, you are rendered speechless as you exit the closet room and move over to the vanity desk, pulling one of the drawers filled with familiar cosmetic products that have been arranged rather meticulously, to which you smile softly as you have a sense of Jay’s touch on them.

“So I take it that you like your room, then?”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sound of his voice, prompting you to turn around and see him by the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he leans sideways against the frame.

Your eyes rake all over his appearance, while heat creeps up on your cheeks as you do so. His magenta-red-dyed hair looks dishevelled, enticing you to adjust it. The black leather jacket hugs his lean physique perfectly, as it looks taut, and you recall that pool party where you finally saw the full view of his bare upper body.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your cheeks remain blushing upon being aware that you were blatantly checking him out, and to make it worse, he notices it too, as evident in the way he smirks at you. “I’m sorry for entering without permission, but Sunoo─”

“Don’t apologise. This is your room, after all.” Heeseung cuts you off firmly, but a tinge of softness is apparent in his tone. As he ambles towards you, his eyes remain intently fixed on you, making you feel self-conscious about the way you look. “It’s not much, but I do hope you like it.”

“Not much? Heeseung, giving me a room of my own in this palace is already generous enough of you guys.” The earnest gratitude in your tone sends a wave of assurance to his nerves, despite his coolly collected demeanour. Your eyebrows are softly knit together in perplexity. “But why? And whose idea was it?”

“It was mine, and the other guys were more than on board with it.” Heeseung stops in front of you with very little distance, and instead of recoiling due to the intimidation emanating from him, you remain rooted to your spot while your eye contact with him persists.

“Really?” You feel something flutter in your heart as you look at the man in front of you in a different light.

Heeseung melodious soft chuckles only seem to intensify that flutter. “You should’ve seen them on the same day I brought up the idea of you having your own room in the palace. They bought everything and anything they could recall about you and your likes.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes form the shape of a crescent as you join him, and your chuckles bring a pleased smile from him. “But Heeseung, you really didn’t have to. I’m sure it must’ve been hard work to arrange and decorate the room.”

“I wanted to.” Heeseung’s gesture of brushing fallen strands of your hair and tucking them behind your ear surprises you, as does the sincerity glinting in his eyes. “I wanted you to have a personal space for whenever you needed it. Your comfort matters to me most, sweetheart.”

“Heeseung, what am I to you?” Your voice barely above a whisper, and an air of vulnerability suspends around you. “I’m confused, Hee. Before this, we weren’t friends or acquaintances, and even now, I’m not entirely sure what I am to you.”

Heeseung simply smiles at you, the sentiments swimming in his eyes are inexplicable. His fingers stroke your cheek in an affectionate gesture while his features have completely softened, stirring foreign yet familiar emotions within you. “You’re my beloved.” He whispers.

“But─” Your voice disappears momentarily when he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he steps away from you.

“Good night, sweetheart.” He shoots you one last smile before turning his back on you, getting ready to leave your room.

You don’t know what takes you over, but you find yourself going after him, and once you’re nearer, your hand latches on his wrist. “Heeseung, wait.”

Heeseung turns around and raises an eyebrow at you, awaiting your words, but your next gesture startles him. Your arms slither around his neck before pulling him fully into your embrace.

“Thank you.” You say softly next to his ear while you ignore a twinge of disappointment in your chest as he doesn’t reciprocate your hug. “I appreciate everything you guys did.”

Just as you have every intention to back away, you feel his arms encasing your waist, pulling you closer until your body fully comes into contact with his. Your tummy remains in a fluttery mess, still refusing to believe that your academic rival of four years is hugging you fervently.

It takes everything for Heeseung to repress the darkness within him from engulfing you wholly, as he doesn’t wish for you to keep your distance from him, but fuck, you feel so undeniably right and perfect in his arms.

Heeseung has longed to hold you like this, and it is even better than how he imagined it. His cheek rests against the side of your head, and his nose lightly buries in your hair as he takes a whiff of your shampoo scent from your hair.

“Hee…” You utter his name softly, feeling his heartbeat against your chest that seems to be pounding erratically, and despite becoming wholly inhibited by the way he is hugging you as though he is hugging his lover, you know that you never want to let go of him.

After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung gives your crown a kiss, another gesture of his affection. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

This time, you don’t question the intimate endearment, still clinging to him as though he’s your salvation. You feel the back of his fingers caressing your head while you unfurl a soft smile on your lips, blissfully unaware of the devil you have just aroused.

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The emphatic quietude in the palace only seems to discomfort you instead of providing some sort of placidity. Having been a regular here for as long as you can recall, you have grown eminently accustomed to the sporadic racket from the boisterous knights, so the absence of their essence feels strange to you.

What is even weirder is the fact that neither Jay, Jake, nor Sunghoon are by your side and are uncharacteristically clingy to you, which brings a small frown to your lips. Earlier, after freshening yourself up, you were expecting either of them to barge into your room, but none showed up, and so you ventured your way to their rooms just to be greeted by empty rooms.

Naturally, you expected the three of them to come back with Heeseung last night, so their stark absence confused you until you decided to send Jake a text only to receive his reply, ‘We’re going to be out of town for a while. Sorry, lovely, but we hope you like your new room!’ Of course, you feel a tad sulky since you had been hoping to spend more time with them. 

Plus, you are not entirely certain if you really do get along with Heeseung. Sure, last night’s interaction with him felt awfully intimate, as did the fact that you initiated a skinship with him, but the turmoil in you persists at a single thought of the enigmatic Lee Heeseung, so what’s more to be anywhere in his vicinity?

Speaking of Heeseung, you have yet to see him anywhere, for which you are thankful. You are definitely not prepared to face him yet after what happened last night, especially the affectionate forehead kiss he gave you.

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you recall, before you lightly pat your cheek to snap out of it and decide to resume walking down the familiar aisle of shelves with fictional books filled to the brim.

Presently, you are in the magnificent library filled with opulence and gold details embellished sublimely on every wall and turn, giving you a sense of simulation as though you are a princess wandering in your own royal library.

A faint smile touches your lips as you recall whenever Sunghoon calls you his princess while giddiness dances in your fluttery heart. It has only been a day, and yet you’re already missing Sunghoon and the others. You shake your head lightly before refocusing on reality again.

Your fingers remain mindlessly yet delicately stroking the spines of the books while your eyes are keenly surveying any book that piques your interest until they finally stop at a certain book, but it is one shelf higher.

With a determined huff, you stand on your tippy toes with your hand outstretched to reach and grab for the book, but your attempt is rather futile, and so you silently curse your height.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart.”

His soft, honeyed-dripping voice sends your heart doing a little flip while you stand frozen in your spot at the close proximity between you and him, allowing you to feel the heat emanating from his body. A movement above you captures your attention, prompting you to look up at his hand, reaching out for the book that piqued your interest with such ease.

“Here.” He lowers his hand for you to grab the book, and you do so hesitantly.

You turn around with the intention to thank him, and when you do, your voice disappears briefly as you scan his appearance, particularly his hair, which has been freed from his wonted cap or even beanie. The strands look longer than you remember as the length reaches below his brows, but they do nothing to obscure the distinct darkness in his eyes.

“Thank you.” You manage to utter a feeble gratitude, smiling at him awkwardly while shifting discreetly under the weight of his dark gaze.

“Have you eaten yet?” Heeseung asks, an unmistakable tenderness in his tone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart.

“I have.” You answer, feeling a tad sheepish that you did go through their fridge without asking for permission earlier. You notice satisfaction glinting in his eye before he takes you by surprise as he gently pats you on the head. 

“Good. I’d hate for you to starve.” He mutters, and a smirk threatens to form on his lips upon seeing your cheeks getting rosier, knowing that his mere gesture has an effect on you.

“How did you know I was here?” You decide to strike up a conversation you hope is decent enough to dispel the awkwardness, but in all honesty, you can’t wait to flee from him.

“Sunghoon did tell me that if you’re not found anywhere in the palace, then you’d probably be in the library.” He divulges, giving you a soft smile that surprisingly allays your inner turmoil. “Besides, you love reading.”

You dismiss the fact that he knows about your love for books, which he must’ve known from Sunghoon as well. Silence hangs in the air painfully as you avoid his lingering gaze. “So... I'm just going to head off to read.” You tell him in a rather brusque manner before venturing your way out of the aisle to the centre of the library, where you would usually make yourself comfortable on one of the velvety couches and become engrossed in the reading.

A sense of deja vu washes over you as you settle on the velvety beige couch, bringing a small smile to your lips upon recalling Sunghoon having you perched on his lap with his arms caged around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder as he peered at the passages you were reading.

Before you can dwell further in your yearning for any of the three, you flip open the first chapter of the book and allow yourself to fall immersive in the fictional world, or at least you tried to, because it isn’t long before the sound of footsteps from behind you serves as a distraction, prompting you to slowly look up when a shadow looms over your figure.

With your head tilted up, your eyes meet Heeseung’s amused ones as he stares down at you with a sly smirk. “Shall we finally address the elephant in the room?” It seems to you that it’s more of a rhetorical question.

“There’s nothing to address.” You clip, redirecting your attention to the book, but even you know that it is hard to focus since the man behind you remains looming ominously over you.

You hear his soft yet lethal chuckles, emerging goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty.” For a split second, you swear you feel his fingers ghosting the skin of your exposed bare shoulder as you are adorned in a white spaghetti strap loose dress, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Hee─” The next thing you know, he snatches the book from your slack clutches, drawing a flabbergasted gasp from you, but then comes the vexation as you find yourself turning around with the intention to berate him. “That was rude, Lee Heeseung.”

Even as you stand on your knees, he still manages to tower over you. His eyes rake over your flustered countenance, greatly amused, as evident in the way his lips curve up at the fact that you resemble an angry kitten. A kitten he desires to tame and keep in his possession forever.

“Give it back.” You demand, swallowing the frightful lump in your throat at the familiar intimidation exuding from him while a deceptive smile plays on his lips.

“Now that I have your full attention, let’s start off with your avoidance.”

“My avoidance?” You scoff lightly, looking away from his steely eyes. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

His fingers seize your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eyes while your heart goes hammering against your chest at the explicable storms brewing in his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I loathe liars?”

“No..?” You attempt to jerk from his touch, but he only grips your chin tighter. “H-Heeseung...”

“I’m very upset with you, pretty.” A sigh of faux dejection elicits from him. “You got me confused with your mixed signals. One moment you act all friendly, and the next, you look at me with such animosity. The thought of you hating me truly disheartens me.”

“I don’t hate─” You pause as soon as he finally releases you.

“You know, I wanted to reward you for making my best friends happier than they've ever been.” His admission kindles a burning flame of inquisitiveness within you, but you know you ought to remain silent as he continues. “I’m sure you must’ve noticed that their personalities differ from one another, but in a way, they remain kindred souls who share the same pain that stemmed from the threshold of their dysfunctional family. So happiness was a sentiment so foreign and insignificant to them, until you happened.”

“I don’t understand.” You begin to speak out after a couple beats of silence as his words sink into your brain. Your eyes follow his measured movements as he moves around you. “They share the same pain? Does that mean Jake and Sunghoon were victims of parental abuse the way Jay experienced?” 

Heeseung’s arched eyebrow denotes his surprise. “So you knew about Jay?”

You slowly nod your head despite the uncertainty. “He didn’t exactly tell me the details, but I knew enough.” A frown creases your complexion. “But Heeseung, how do you know about all of these?”

Something meaningful flickers in his eyes for a fleeting moment. “The four of us kind of grew up together since our fathers were best friends, but whatever happened behind the curtains of our lives was all divulged only between us. Plus, I saw some unpleasant sights.”

“Like?” You prod, but uneasiness spreads across your chest upon awaiting his answer.

Heeseung looks down at the book, flipping through the pages uninterestedly. “Like how Sunghoon’s father attempted to kill him by hiring a hitman three years ago.”

“What?” A disbelieving gasp leaves your gaping mouth, and when Heeseung meets your eyes, he merely smirks as he shuts the book closed with one hand.

“Of course, Sunghoon took care of the matter within a day, and on the same day, his father received a special gift from him.” Something so wicked glints in his eyes. “A gift of the hitman’s heart that Sunghoon carved it out himself.”

A part of you refuses to believe it, but you’ve already seen and known what they are capable of. Being ensnared in a whirlwind of conflict, you feel revolted at the fact that the very man who went to the extent of carving out an organ is the same man who touched, fucked, kissed, and held you in his warm embrace. The revelation also has you reflecting on the past interactions you had with Sunghoon ─ just how lucky you were that you didn’t end up dead for those moments where you dared to show your defiance to him.

“But why?” You ask, your voice shaking palpably while you attempt to conceal your fear. “Why would his own father do that? How could a father bear the thought of killing their own child?”

“It is rather complex, if I’m being honest.” Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, seeming almost nonchalant. “Out of the four of us, Sunghoon was blessed to grow up with doting parents who often showered him with love despite having other siblings compete for their affection. So the knowledge that his own father, whom he looked up to the most, loathed him to the point where he was willing to eradicate Sunghoon’s existence was more than upsetting.”

“Did─” Hesitation pulls you back, apprehensive to hear the answer. “Did Sunghoon kill his father as well?”

Heeseung merely hums, his face remains impassive. “No. Sunghoon decided that death was an easy way out for his father. He has other plans, I suppose.”

“What about Jay?” You didn’t mean to sound eager to know about their whole life story, or at least a partial part of it, but the three of them have never divulged to you anything regarding family, unlike you. “Those scars I saw and touched on his back…” Your eyebrows are softly knit together. “I couldn’t believe that a father would do that to his son.”

“Jongseong made it abundantly clear to us that his birth was unplanned. Thus, his parents grew to resent him because they never wanted a child.” Heeseung settles on the marbled-surface table directly in front of you, his eyes never leaving your curious ones. “The scars he got were from his fucked-up alcoholic father while his mother closed both her eyes to the abuse he went through, and because of them, Jongseong grew resentful and hateful, especially whenever a parental topic was brought up. You should’ve seen him before ─ he was even more vicious.”

You bring your knees close to your chest as you hug your legs. The distraught yet crestfallen look in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Heeseung. “So that’s why he─” You halt, pressing your lips thinly, before murmuring, “I can’t even imagine the pain he had to endure.” 

Heeseung sets the book aside on the table, a passing fleet of cognisance in his eyes. “And I’m guessing you must’ve brought up something relating to his parents before, no?”

You avert your gaze elsewhere, obscuring the scintilla of guilt in your eyes from his sight. “I can’t say that we fought, but he did blow up on me because he didn’t believe that I truly cared for him when I─” You draw in a sharp inhalation at the stinging memory before casting Heeseung a feeble smile. “Never mind. It’s all water under the bridge now.”

You expect Heeseung to press onto the matter, but the flicker of understanding in his eyes evokes an inkling in you that he must’ve known what really happened, and it makes you feel uneasy at the plausible thought that everything that happened between you and them seems to have been reported to Heeseung for some reason.

“So now that’s left is our most beloved Sim Jaeyun.” Heeseung slants his body to the back with his palms on the cold, flat surface for support, while a knowing smirk plays on his lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but he is your favourite out of them, right?”

“He’s not─” It’s as if your tongue is tied at the instant denial urges you, rendering you dubious of your unbiased sentiments centred around them. Your fingers curl, forming a fist with which you clutch the teetering truth of coequal feelings beyond platonic for the three of them. A muscle pulses in your jaw. No, you’re not one to play favourites.

With your steel-determined eyes unwaveringly meeting him, you opt to pull a reverse uno card on him as you fold your arms below your chest. “What about you, then? I’m most certain he’s your favourite.”

Inquisitivity pulls an arch at his eyebrow. “What are you implying?” His soft tone belies the cryptic danger that parallels the brewing storms in his eyes, and you know you ought to tread carefully with your next words.

“There was once when Jay and Jake fought, but Sunghoon managed to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.” You allow your limbs to let loose, your hands settling on your lap politely. The movement of your teeth biting down on the plushness of your lips captures his eyes. “Initially, I heard them arguing, and your name was mentioned. Jay then told me about Jake breaking a code, and I’m guessing it was you whom he slept with.”

All the while, your cheeks are flushed as you look everywhere except his penetrating eyes. Truth be told, you were shocked when the revelation unravelled, and a twinge of upset came. It was not that you were against the plausible thought of them being queers, but you never wanted to be a catalyst in the relationship between them, be it platonic or romantic-wise. You clutch at the hem of your dress, nervously waiting in anticipation for his next words. 

“You are right about one thing. He is my most favourite out of them, but our one-night stand was a drunken mistake.” The stark sincerity in his admission is unmistakable, prompting you to flutter your eyes at him. “It was during this period of time that he completely ghosted us. We were drunk and got caught up in a spur of the moment. Plus, he was being vulnerable even before he got drunk.” 

“It’s okay, Hee. You don’t have to explain everything to me.” You assure him with a faint smile, while the nickname that leaves your lips has an impact on him.

“But I want to.” He counters firmly, his body leaning slightly forward. “You have to know that Jaeyun and I’s relationship is nothing beyond platonic.”

“I believe you, Hee.” You feel compelled to give him any form of assurance as you offer him a small smile, and yet dubiety remains lingering in your mind. “It’s just that... I don’t want to be the kind of person who ruins the relationship you have with him, or any of them for that matter.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” His tone is filled with affection as he grabs your hand to give your knuckle a chaste kiss, causing your heart to do a little flip at the gesture. “You could never be the one who ruined the relationship between us.” Because the ruined one in the end will be you, and you’ll come to depend on and cling to us as if we’re your salvation.

You slowly retract your hand from his touch as you clear your throat, intending to revert to the topic. “You mentioned Jaeyun ghosted you. He ghosted me too.” Your lips jut into a pout at the recollection. “Till this day, I have no idea what spurred him on. Even though he did apologise, he never really explained why he did what he did either.”

Heeseung knows this, of course, but he is not about to let it be known to you. “We wondered the same even after we reconciled, but upon some inspection, it turns out your loverboy has serious abandonment issues.” A lazy smirk touches his lips, and just as you are about to retort, he adds on, “I highly doubt that he already told you, but Jake, he’s been clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. His therapy can attest to that.”

You frown as you wrap the information around your head. “So his disorder correlates to why he did what he did?” 

Heeseung sighs softly. “Look, I said all of those not as a means to justify his actions, but it’s for you to understand and know that no matter what frontage Jaeyun displays, he has a soft heart. He just needs a little loving and for the people he holds close to him to never abandon him.”

The air around you shifts drastically into something rather stifling as he leans forward while gazing deeply into your eyes, and you feel the connection between the two of you is ineffable. Your heart beats in a measured cadence that feels foreign yet familiar as he strokes your cheek tenderly.

“Can you promise me something, sweetheart?” He asks in a lulling whisper, and you find yourself getting lost in the abysmal depths of his enthralling eyes. “Promise me that you’ll stay by their side and continue to make them happy.”

“Yes.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the promise has plunged deep into your beating heart, firm in upholding it. “I never wanted to leave either.”

Heeseung unfurls a soft smirk on his lips upon hearing your admission, satisfied at the pellucid attachment you have to them and to him soon enough. “Such a good girllll.” He drawls, and you discern something shifting in him while your breath nearly hitches in your throat at his darkening eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”

Heeseung grabs the book and gives it to you. Confused, you decide to take it from him anyway. “What do you want me to do─”

As soon as he stands, looming over your seated figure, it feels as if you have lost the ability to speak as you tilt your head to look up at him. With a smirk on his handsome countenance, he leans down to you, one hand on the headrest behind you. “I want you to read from where you left off earlier.”

“Okay.” You acquiesce while your heart seems to gradually pound harder and harder, your eyes watching him attentively as he slowly backs away just slightly. “But why?”

He doesn’t respond, and instead, he crouches down on his knees in front of you, his hands touching your calves before moving them upwards tantalisingly slowly.

“W-What are you doing?” You stutter, a twinge of panic in your heart despite the racing anticipation that betrays your morality, or whatever is left.

Heeseung doesn’t stop, even as you squirm and attempt to push him away, earning you a disapproving tut from him. “I’m giving you your reward, sweetheart. Don’t you want that?”

“I-I─” Eventually, you relent from squirming and allow his hands to move underneath your dress with ease. “Heeseung.” You mutter his name weakly in defeat, feeling his fingers hooking around your underwear before he pulls it down until it leaves past your ankles.

Heeseung pries your legs open by force, rendering your lower region wholly exposed under the weight of his dark gaze. Effortlessly, he adjusts the position of your legs over his shoulders, leaving your legs to dangle behind him as he moves closer to you.

“Go on, pretty.” He leans down, his warm breath tickling your skin, before he places a sensual kiss on your inner thigh. “Read the book.”

You can’t seem to resist his command, and so you heed it, your trembling fingers clutching the book as you open and flip through the page that you left off. Your chest heaves up and down in anticipation as you feel his lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your inner thigh, scorching and burning.

How can you ever concentrate on reading just one paragraph when his lips feel closer and closer to the display of your bare cunt, which seems to betray your revulsion as it clenches at nothingness in anticipation?

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Just as his lips come into contact with your clit, a soft gasp elicits from you while your hips buck up at the sheer sensitivity. “Ahh, pretty angel is so sensitive, isn’t she?” He coos before taking you by a delightful surprise at the sensation of his wet muscle licking a long stripe of your slit.

“Hee─” You gasp as soon as his tender administration shifts into something that is ravenous, his tongue delving into the wonder of your wet cavity so deep, and yet each thrust and lick is executed with such precision that it has you rolling your eyes to the back. “Mmhmm, S-Seungie.”

His cock twitches beneath the confines of his slacks at how adorable you sound. The moans you so desperately try to muffle with your palm only seem to fuel his raging desire for you. “Keep reading the book, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out his command, sending pleasurable vibrations through your body.

You try, you really do, but how are you supposed to focus on reading when the man below you is lapping and ravaging your cunt as though it is his last meal?

His movements are uninhibited while his grip on your thighs only seems to tighten, getting utterly drunk on your pussy as his wet muscle is fucking into you wantonly, revelling in the lewd sound eliciting from your lips. Oh, he has dreamt of this moment.

“Seungie.” You whimper, your hips bucking up at the sensation of his pointed nose rubbing against your neglected clit. The book has fallen from your grasp, prompting you to muffle the lewd sound that spills from your lips with the back of your hand while tears well in your lower lids at the sheer intensity of his tongue fucking into your already drenched cunt that hurls you at the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Mmhmm fuck,” His gravelly, husky voice as he rasps against your wet folds sends your cunt pulsating, and his nose rubbing against your clit only seems to intensify the knot in your tummy. “You’re so soaked for me, sweetheart.”

Damn right, you are, and you’re not even cumming yet, but the slicks of your arousal leaking from your cunt are unmistakable as he wholeheartedly laps up everything that is not enough for his insatiable hunger for you.

“Please.” You pant lightly, your curve arching as you throw your head to the back with moans spilling from your lips, feeling his lips enveloping your aching clit with his tongue drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves and his cold, slender fingers plunging into your sopping cunt to fuck you hard.

“What are you pleading for, pretty?” Heeseung murmurs against your skin before resuming to suck on your clit harshly, while the sound of his fingers fucking into you is obscenely wet.

“Please let me cum.” You moan out your permission while your hips move in tandem with his unforgiving fingers.

“Go on.” Heeseung permits, his fingers curling inside of you and hitting the spot that sends sparks flying in your vision.

“Seungie, I-I’m─” You gasp in between bated breaths as the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable, sending your body to writhe under him as your impending orgasm awaits its release.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.” His hungry gaze remains fixated on you, while his fingers fucking into you never let up. “Cum.”

At a single command, your lips part open in a silent scream, and blood rushes into your ear while white flashes in your vision as he sends you into a blissful state of euphoria, with your orgasm crashing down on you violently and your body convulsing beneath him.

“Good girl. Oh, you did so well, my beloved.” Heeseung’s warm praise has your pulsating cunt clenching around his fingers that are coated with your release, drawing a smirk on his handsome face.

You whimper at your sensitivity as he slowly withdraws his fingers from you. You watch with lidded eyes while heat creeps up on your cheeks as he inserts his drenched fingers into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you.

Heeseung nearly moans at the taste of your nectar on his tongue, savouring it a little longer before he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. His dark eyes rake all over you, noticing how spent you looked just by a single orgasm. Although he yearns to bury his face in your sweet cunt again, he refrains from doing so, not wanting to unleash the inner part of him that is akin to a raging beast that can only be tamed by you.

The realisation of your cunt still being exhibited under his gaze as the hem of your dress is hiked up to your stomach makes you immediately regain your composure, straightening your spine before bending down to reach for your white underwear, but you become appalled when Heeseung seizes it. “Heeseung─”

“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart.” His command is delivered in a soft, calming tone, to which you silently comply, slowly lifting your leg before he proceeds to assist you in wearing your underwear.

Just as you rise from the couch, your knees buckle underneath you, causing an imbalance in your standing figure, but Heeseung steadily holds you against him while you lean dependently into his chest for support. 

“Sorry.” You mutter, and your rosy cheeks feel warmer under his dark gaze on your face, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart beats erratically against your chest in intimate close proximity while his arms slither around your waist.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are truly adorable.” Heeseung coos, his fingers stroking your cheek affectionately, and his eyes are swirling with sentiments beyond your comprehension, because why is he gazing at you with such love and adoration?

“I haven’t even fucked you yet, but your legs are already turning into jell-o because of my tongue.”

“Heeseung! You can’t just say that!” You flushed red in disbelief at how he said it so casually. You try to push him away from you, but he only tightens his grip on you and pulls you closer to him until you can feel his bulge pressing against your tummy. “Let go of me.”

Heeseung grabs strands of your soft locks and brings them to his nose, smelling faintly before kissing them, and his gesture alone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart. “I won’t ever let go of you, sweetheart.” You can’t help but sense the double meaning of his words. “Plus, I haven’t said what I want to say to you.”

“And what is that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Come with me to a family dinner tomorrow.” He says so firmly, his tone indicates no room for objection from you.

“Okay.” You acquiesce, frowning lightly, which denotes your confusion. “But why me?”

“You’re in my territory now, pretty. So everything I say or order, you’ll do so like the good girl I know you are, and don’t even think of trying to escape.” Heeseung leans in to press a tender kiss on your forehead, and while his gesture feels affectionate, it does nothing to alleviate the familiar turmoil within you. 

“And if I do?” You dare to ask despite feeling apprehensive about his answer. Your pulses drum in your ears as he trails his kisses down the side of your face before stopping at your temple while his hand moves to cradle the back of your head.

“Pretty girl, if you do…” He sighs softly against you, moving his lips to press a sensual kiss on your earlobe before catching you completely off guard when his fingers grab a chunk of your hair and pull your head to the back, eliciting a whimper from you.”

“H-Hee─” Your hand flies to his wrist and claws at it, imploring him to release you while your fearful eyes meet his dark, steely ones. “Seungie.” You whimper as he forces you to turn your head sideways.

His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while your heart remains pounding harder. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” He whispers darkly into your ear. “Even if you do manage to escape, I won’t be far behind.”

“Why are you being like this?” You ask shakily, tears glistening in your eyes at his unforgiving hold.

“Why?” His cold chuckles feel mocking, sending shivers through you. “Because you’re mine. Your body, your voice, your soul ─ they’re mine.” He presses a deep kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “Sweetheart, you’ve always belonged to me.”

No! That is what your mind is screaming, and your rationality urges you to evade this psychotic man, but despite the pain and fear you harbour for him, a twisted part of you feels delighted because, deep down, maybe you have longed for him to take you in the way the other three men did.

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You can’t recall the last time family dinner felt this uncomfortable. What’s even worse is that you feel your presence is intruding, considering that Heeseung’s parents didn’t seem too pleased at the moment they saw you at the threshold of their posh mansion, but nevertheless, they acknowledged you.

The atmosphere in the dining room seems to thicken with tension that is palpable to you despite the distinct chatters and chortles coming from the other side of the table, prompting you to discreetly look over to Heeseung’s twin older brothers.

Earlier, Heeseung introduced you to his older brothers, who were rather blatantly flirtatious with you in their manner, but you were not entirely surprised since Heeseung did give you a heads-up about his older brothers’ coquettish tendencies towards women. You were also informed that they are five years older than Heeseung, and they are currently doctors employed at Seoul National Hospital.

A frown touches your lips as you watch them, wondering how on earth they manage to blithely disregard the patent frigidity between Heeseung and his parents. It is almost as if the two are used to this prevalence.

Heeseung never really mentioned anything about his parents on your way to dinner, but you knew that his father is the Chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, so that explains the cold, reserved demeanour his father exudes. Heck, you feel as though you are committing a crime whenever you make a single movement, especially as his father’s eagle eyes occasionally settle on you. Of course, you never dare make eye contact with his father unless he directs his speech to you.

His mother, on the other hand, looks years younger than his father. She appears standoffish, dolled up in a designer piece that drapes over her figure flawlessly. She has yet to say much, but her sharp yet callous eyes often send you flinching.

“So, Heeseung.” One of the twins, who goes by Jaesung, draws everyone’s attention, including yours. It is still uncanny to you that the three siblings can pass as triplets instead, especially in the way they smile. “Is this the part where you announce your relationship with the lovely Y/N Kang?”

“Our baby brother? In a serious relationship?” The other twin, Daehyun, remarks with a tinge of sarcasm, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. “Oh my. How you’ve grown, indeed.”

“Is this true, Heeseung?” The austerity is accentuated in the way his father speaks, nearly causing you to flinch, but from your peripheral vision, Heeseung displays such nonchalance.

As much as you want to assert the truth to them, you resort to the silent passivity of whatever declaration Heeseung chooses to enunciate. Plus, his hand gripping your plush thigh is an implicit warning, so you know better than to go against him.

You quickly take a glance at Heeseung, seeing his full attention on his father seated across from him. You begin to wonder what exactly Heeseung’s motive is when he clearly displays his disdain for this family dinner.

Heeseung, who has felt your eyes lingering on his face, chuckles inwardly as he can sense your peak curiosity about the dynamic of his family as well as his ulterior motive, but he continues to maintain heated eye contact with his father while a smirk plays on his lips.

Truthfully, Heeseung simply wants to exasperate his father by bringing you to the family dinner, knowing that his father explicitly warned him to keep his distance from you for some reason, and yet Heeseung has an inkling that his father’s absurd rationality has something to do with you being your mother’s daughter.

“Yes.” His confirmation seems to elicit a flaring ire behind the elder’s eyes, which only fuels Heeseung’s zeal in executing part of his revenge towards him. Without looking at you, Heeseung grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his before raising it to give the back of your hand a kiss. “Y/N and I are in a relationship, so we hope that you’ll give us your blessings.”

“You have our blessings, dear brother.” Daehyun intervenes, but that does little to ease the crackling tension between the father and the youngest son.

“Take good care of our baby brother, Y/N.” Jaesung sends you a friendly wink, to which Heeseung narrows his eyes.

“I see.” His father’s reciprocation is nothing short of acknowledgement, but even you can tell that his father doesn’t approve of this in the way he stares at Heeseung. The elder dabs the white handkerchief to the corner of his lips before rising from his seat. “If that is all, I’ll be in my office to resume my paperwork.”

“Dear.” You watch as the wife calls for him and touches his arm, but the elder simply ignores her as he proceeds to make his departure. Even towards his own wife, he harbours the same coldness towards Heeseung. 

Time has passed since the uncomfortable dinner, and you now find yourself wandering in the sectional part of the living room, where there are distinct yet beautiful paintings hanging in opulent golden frames on each wall, making you feel as though you are at an art exhibition event. They look like they cost thousands.

“Y/N.”

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at the sound of his father’s voice. You slowly turn around, only to lock eyes with his steely ones as he stands just a few metres from you, allowing you to take a fleeting examination of his features. It is as if you are staring at the older version of Heeseung.

“Mister Lee,” You manage to utter a feeble greeting with a small smile. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.” It was, in fact, the worst dinner you ever had.

You subtly shift under the uncomfortable weight of his gaze as he seems to scrutinise you, leaving you to ponder what you did wrong for his father to feel disdainful towards you.

“I don’t approve of your relationship with Heeseung.” You already expect that much, but why does your heart ache even though you know that you’re not in any relationship with Heeseung? The look in his father’s eyes holds such austerity that it makes you want to cower from him. “After this, I want you to stay away from my son.”

“May I ask why?” You ask tentatively, trying your utmost to repress the hurt from travelling to emerge tears from your eyes. “Am I not good enough for your son?”

You can see it in his eyes — the drastic yet fleeting change in his austere demeanour, almost as if the sight of your eyes now glistening with tears seemed to soften him, evoking a sense of pity in him.

“Staying away from him is for your benefit.” His gentle tone shocks you, as does the look in his eyes. “You’re a nice girl, Y/N. You are better off without being associated with my son.”

“But what if I love him?” The words fly from your mouth without your permission, astounding you with the absurd declaration of love when you remain in a state of uncertainty about your feelings towards your once-academic rival. It feels like you can’t even differentiate between love and infatuation.

“Then it would be wise for you to erase your feelings for him before it’s too late.” His father chuckles wryly, and his cryptic words throw you into a whirlwind of confusion. “Being closely associated with my son will only bring you nothing but misery.”

“I don’t understand why you are talking badly about Heeseung. No matter what, he’s your son.” You express your dissatisfaction with a frown on your lips. “I already know what he’s capable of, but I can assure you he’s not bad. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”

Little do you know that your words provide satisfaction to the person listening behind the wall a few metres away from you.

“You’ve been fooled by his charms, Y/N.” His father heaves a disappointed sigh. “You have no idea how despicable he is. So please, leave him while you still can.”

“Mister Lee─” Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as he steps closer, his fingers brushing your cheek tenderly.

Sentiments swirling in his eyes are beyond anything you can fathom, while a wistful smile etches on his face. “You look so much like her.” His voice trembles with poignance.

“Who?” You inquire as relief washes over you at the loss of his touch on your skin.

“Your mother.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You know my mother?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” His voice, barely above a whisper, a raw emotion of longing, is palpable.

Before you can ask him to elaborate, Heeseung’s voice cuts through the air sharply like a knife. “Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”

When you look over to him, his countenance is inscrutable, but the danger brewing in his eyes daunts you, prompting you to refrain from dilly-dallying any longer as you find yourself gravitating towards him.

Your cheeks flare as he brazenly wraps his arms around your waist before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek in front of the elder. “We’ll be heading off first, father.” There is a certain edge in his tone, and before you can look up at his face, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you with him.

“Brother, leaving so soon?” Both Daehyun and Jaesung, who have been hanging out in the living room, raise their eyebrows at the two of you. “Come on. We haven’t even gotten to know Y/N yet!” Jaesung casts a flirtatious wink at you this time.

“We have somewhere to be.” Heeseung offers them a tight smile while his grip on your hand only seems to tighten, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. “Oh, and Jaesung? Look at my girl that way again, and you’ll find yourself waking up with one eye missing.”

Heeseung doesn’t await any of their responses, as he continues to drag you along with him. You try your best to catch up with his long legs, and when your eyes linger on his back, you swear you can hear the cacophonous maelstrom of raging vehemence in his head.

Now settling in his car, cold silence continues to dominate the atmosphere. You don’t dare to break the ice between the two of you, your eyes focusing on the road ahead of you while your heart pounds against your chest as his car gradually picks up velocity, uncertain of where he is bringing you.

Your eyes eventually trail over to him, noticing his chiselled jaw locked, which parallels the tension, colouring his knuckles nearly white as he grips the steering wheel. You bite down on the inner flesh of your cheek, contemplating whether or not to speak up, especially since he is driving at an alarming speed.

“Heeseung.” You accidentally utter his name in a meek whisper before deciding to overcome your apprehension, but your soft voice is a melodious tune that compels him. “Seungie, slow down, please.”

Heeseung heeds your words, decelerating the speed and taking a brief glance at you before he decides to pull over to the side, where, thankfully, the street is rather a desolate one. You watch him in silence as he releases his clutch from the steering wheel, leaning his head to the back with his eyes closed, before he turns his head to look at you. “What did he say to you?”

You know that he is referring to his father. You fiddle with your fingers as your nerves begin to act up, hyper-aware of the brewing tension sizzling in the air around you. “He told me to stay away from you.”

Of course, Heeseung knows this since he eavesdropped on you earlier. He hums, his hand reaching out to cradle your cheek, and his thumb moves in a tender stroke on your skin. “And what did my sweetheart tell him?”

You hate how his soft tone feels deceptive, causing you to tread carefully with your next choice of words. “I refused him and told him that you’re nice.” You mumble as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

A pleased smirk plasters on his handsome countenance. “Good girl. Now come here.” Upon his instruction, you unbuckle your seatbelt before moving over to him with his assistance, as he has you perched on top of him.

His heart soars at how docile you are to him while his eyes drink in your beautiful features, which are illuminated by the street lights from the outside. With his eyes boring into yours, he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. “You know, sweetheart, I’m feeling very upset. Can you help to make me feel better?”

“Are you upset because of your father?” The way you tilt your head slightly to one side as your doe eyes sparkle with curiosity brings a fond smile twitching on his lips.

“Many things upset me, like how my brothers were being flirtatious with you,” He leans his body towards you, his hands slithering around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest hits his. “How my father had the audacity to keep us apart,” His voice drops low as he dips his head down to place a kiss on your skin, just above the silver cross resting on your chest, before slowly trailing his kisses upward. “How my stepmother still breathes and acts like she owns the place.”

Despite his warm lips remaining intact on the hollow of your throat, which sends your head spinning, the mention of his stepmother captures your attention. “She’s your stepmother?”

Your hands find their way to settle on his shoulders, gripping them as you begin to be aroused by his tantalising kisses littering the expanse of your neck while you tilt your head for him to gain better access, earning you an approval hum from him.

“W-What about your real mother?” You ask, panting lightly as your chest feels heavier from the rising tension in the car.

“Dead, alive, I don’t know.” Heeseung sighs against your skin. “Couldn’t give a fuck about her since the day she cut off all contact with my brothers and me.”

Your heart aches for him the same way you felt towards Jay before, but soon the sympathy dissipates at the way he is now gripping your hips to grind on him. “Wait, Heeseung─” A gasp leaves your lips as his bulge brushes against your core, causing your cunt to clench beneath the material of your underwear.

“Come on, pretty.” Heeseung leisurely leans back, pulling you down with him while his hands continue to guide your movement. “Grind on me like you're riding my cock.”

Heat weaves across your cheeks at his licentious words, and yet it only turns you on further, motivating you to pick up the momentum, grinding on him with your throbbing pussy, explicitly feeling the sheer girth of his cock hidden beneath the slacks.

“Oh, Hee…” Your lips form an ‘o’ shape with light pants and pretty moans emitting from you, your head tilted up with your lidded eyes fluttering at the delicious friction of your clit pressing down on him.

“Fuck,” He grits his teeth, his hips bucking up to move in tandem with you, while his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t stop until you make us both cum, yeah?”

You nod your head, unable to form coherent sentences as needy whines and moans continue to spill from your lips. The hem of your black dress hikes up all the way above your thighs, allowing you more room to spread your legs comfortably while still maintaining the pace. The fact that you look like a bitch in heat humping on him unabashedly doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and instead, it arouses you into grinding on his protruding cock more feverishly.

“Yeahhh, just like that, pretty.” He smirks at you, revelling at how beautiful yet sinful you look. His hands move until they grope your ass cheeks for leverage, pulling you closer and allowing you to feel for his cock and pelvis deeply. “Oh, how perfect you truly are, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at his adoring words, and when your eyes finally settle on his face, butterflies awaken in your tummy at the way he is looking at you with a smirk on his handsome countenance, as if you’re his whole world. Your eyes flicker at the familiar lip ring adorning his bottom lip, and a yearning for his lips on yours is palpable.

You mewl, your thighs beginning to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. “Please kiss me.”

Who is he to refuse his beloved? With one hand placed on your back, he pulls you down fully, his head tilted to a perfect angle for your lips to collide with his, allowing you to taste the fresh cigarette on his lips. You flutter your eyes closed while your hips don’t relent from their feverish movement.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling of his cold lip ring on yours, your lips move in a fervent dance as he kisses you as if he needs air, as if he has waited for so long to devour you. Feeling his teeth biting down on the suppleness of your bottom lip, you whimper as your lips part open for him to explore your hot cavern.

You moan wantonly as his tongue meets you in an intimate tango while your orgasm is nearly impending, prompting you to roll your hips deeper as your clit grazes against his bulge even more deliciously.

“Cumming, pretty?” He whispers hotly into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair to grip it. His tongue licks the seams of your bottom lip, which look swollen from his biting earlier. “Come on, cum with me.”

With the last friction of your clit along his girth, your stomach tightens as you finally come undone with him, feeling your slick arousal leaking from your folds that form a sticky wet patch on your underwear. The exertion dawns on you as you allow yourself to lean on his body with your head resting on his shoulder.

He plants a kiss on your exposed shoulder while caressing your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really needed that.” With his arms wrapped around your waist, your heart remains a fluttery mess as you are cocooned in his warm embrace.

The two of you remain unmoving, basking in each other’s touch and scent, with Heeseung occasionally leaning down to press his lips on your shoulder, an affectionate gesture that intensifies the butterflies in you.

“Do you want to go back now?” He asks gently, looking at you as you slowly raise your head.

You shake your head, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the fact that you desire to feel his lips again. Being brazen enough, your fingers clutch at his collar shirt. “I want you to kiss me again.” But you utter your words meekly, drawing a teasing smirk from his lips.

“What was that?”

The way you huff annoyedly is rather adorable in his eyes. The sound of your whine goes straight to his cock. “I want you to kiss me again.” You reiterate loudly. “Please?”

Raising his upper body, Heeseung latches his hand at your nape to pull you closer until his lips collide with yours, and this time, he kisses you tenderly slowly, taking his time to savour this moment, and yet as he deepens the kiss, the connection between the two of you amplify.

You hum into the kiss, your movements are desperate as you cling onto him with your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer. All the caution you initially had for him is thrown in the wind, and you allow yourself to fully acknowledge that you desire this man to claim you as his best friends did.

He chuckles breathily into the kiss at your eagerness, his hold on your waist is one of reverence. “Slow down, sweetheart.” He murmurs into the kiss while you don’t relent. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You decide to take charge, forcing him to lean back before you trail your kisses down his neck until you stop at his Adam’s apple that is bobbing up and down. Your tongue takes a teasing lick, eliciting a breathy moan from him at the sensitivity, before you lick again and give it a kiss.

“Oh, fuck.” He curses out breathlessly, feeling his cock erect underneath the material just by the sensation of your lips on his throat. This time, he isn’t sure if he can hold himself back as you continue to litter your kisses and licks all over his neck. “Sweetheart, we should stop.”

“No.” You mumble, slotting your lips over his parted ones and kissing him hard before poking your tongue into his mouth. The wet smacking sound and breathy moans elicited from the two of you are obscene, reigniting your arousal once more.

“Again?” Heeseung groans as soon as he feels you grinding your cunt on his erection while you play with his lip ring, licking and biting it. His eyes darken at the sight of you fluttering your eyelashes at him seductively as you bite down his bottom lip and pull it teasingly before you engulf him with your tongue once more.

“Cum with me, Seungie.” You mewl into his mouth as you increase the pace, allowing his cock to feel your drenched cunt explicitly. Heeseung desires to take charge, but seeing you in this light does something to him.

Rolling his hips up, Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply as white ropes of cum spurt from his cock, staining his already dampened briefs. Seeing as you manage to arouse pleasure in him, you follow suit, your underwear completely drenched as you come undone for the second time.

“Good girl.” He pants lightly, eyeing you lazily as he caresses your cheek while a soft smile beams on your face before you lean in to kiss his lips.

“Can I suck your cock now, Seungie?” You ask sweetly against his lips, driven to give him the best possible blowjob of his life after having been taught and experienced with his best friends.

“Next time, pretty.” Heeseung plants a kiss on your forehead. “We should head back.”

“Then can I suck your cock while you drive?” Your offer only seems to entice him more than it should. You force his hands away from you before you move over to the passenger seat.

“Sweetheart─” He groans, falling into the temptation as your fingers find their way to unzip his pants before they pull down his dampen brief, releasing his still erection from the confines.

Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of his long, veiny cock, with the tip raging red. Although you are doubtful if you can even handle him, a newfound vigour possesses you as you lean towards him and dip your head down with one hand holding the base. You kiss the tip wetly, enhancing his sensitivity as he bucks his hips up, before you decide to lick the tip and suck on it like you would do to a lollipop.

Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply at the sensational pleasure while he feels greatly impressed by your skills. “You are going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He sighs pleasurably as the tip hits the roof of your mouth before you begin to deep-throat him. A muscle pulses in his jaw as he starts the ignition of his car. “Don’t stop until we reach the palace.”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have surmised that the anonymous person was indeed Heeseung just because the endearment 'sweetheart’ induced the paranoia in you. Plus, it seems illogical that Heeseung was responsible for those texts when his loyalty and love for his best friends have been amply shown in the way he speaks about them, whereas the anonymous person had been so adamantly persuading you to leave them.

Or maybe Heeseung is indeed the anonymous person who harbours ill-feelings towards his best friends for reasons that are kept hidden in a pandora box and chose to play mind games with you. Perhaps it could be the reason why you haven’t been receiving any texts from the unknown number because you have long since been within his reach.

No matter, you regard it as something trivial. Besides, Heeseung has been nothing but nicer to you and always ensures that you are comfortable, be it inside the palace or outside. And so you shall resort to the presumption that Heeseung is not the creepy anonymous person.

“Sweetheart.” Heeseung’s warm greeting gently pulls you out of your rumination. The sound of his soft, gentle voice is a euphony to your ears that makes you feel as though you are floating as you grace your way towards him.

Your heart bears the familiar flutters as you do a quick examination of his overall beach fit. With the exception of his wonted black cap adorning his head, he is clad in a black printed short-sleeve beach shirt that complements his shorts. The serpent pendant rests on his chest with the chain hooked around his neck, while his earlobes are bare of the usual metal studs and earrings. The tattoo inked on his neck looks distinct under the fluorescent lights overhead.

You never would have thought that he would undeniably be the man of your wildest dreams.

As soon as you are within an arm’s reach, Heeseung swiftly grabs a hold of your hand and pulls you to him, eliciting endearing giggles from you that bring a smirk to his lips.

“Heeseung.” You greet him heartily, beaming with a smile on your radiant countenance as he has you locked in his embrace with one arm while the other cradles your face to angle your head before he leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you deeply while the background fades into oblivion.

He hums against your lips before pulling away just slightly for his lips to ghost over yours, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” His husky voice stirs an arousal in your core.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” You reciprocate sheepishly, feeling small under his dark gaze, while a devilish smirk paints his features upon seeing your rosy cheeks that flare due to the effect he knows he has on you.

His eyes rake over you again, completely enamoured by the breathtaking sight of you, all dolled up in a baby blue spaghetti strap dress with a rather low neckline that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage. Your hair is styled in a lovely braided half-updo that resembles a wreath-like crown, while the short strands of your baby hair are let loose as they hang by your face frame. You apply a minimal amount of makeup that accentuates your features.

When his eyes linger on your pink glossed lips, he is reminded of how sinful they were last night. The recollection of your doe eyes staring up at him as you swallowed all of his cum deep into your throat entices him to reenact last night’s pursuit while on your way to the beach.

“New car?” You inquire in genuine surprise as your eyes sparkle at the sight of a sleek grey Range Rover SUV behind him, oblivious to the erotic thoughts occupying his head at this moment. “I’ve never seen that car before.” You remark, diverting your attention to him.

“It was parked in the other garage, where we store other vehicles we rarely use.” Heeseung tells you in an idle manner, his attention is intently on you. “Are you sure you want to come along with us? The other knights will be there.”

Right. Apparently, Heeseung had plans on staying in the palace with you for the whole day, but earlier in the morning, he received incessant missed calls from three specific individuals before he reluctantly answered one of their calls, only to be persuaded to join the beach party the other knights were hosting. Heeseung did ask you since he didn’t want you to feel lonely in the palace, and he was a tad surprised at your enthusiasm despite knowing how other knights have treated and behaved around you in the past.

Heeseung can see a fleeting uncertainty in your eyes before you give him a firm head nod with a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. It’s a bummer that Jaeyun, Jay, and Sunghoon won’t be there.”

His eyes narrow at your kissable lips, forming a small pout. Adorning a lazy smirk on his lips, he cups your cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty. They’ll be back in no time. Besides,” He leans down to nuzzle his nose with yours, drawing faint giggles from you. “You have me. I’ll keep you occupied, and you’ll eventually forget about them.” His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Just as you lean in to press your lips on his, familiar voices pop the intimacy bubble that you are in, prompting you to look to the side where three silhouettes enter the opened garage before their faces greet you, each sporting distinctive beach fits.

“Y/N? You’re coming with us as well?” Jungwon inquires as he raises his eyebrow at you while you nod your head in response. He appears to be holding a volleyball in one hand while the other is occupied with a bag. 

“You look lovely, darling.” Sunoo compliments you with a simper smile, but you have an inkling that he is trying to get a reaction out of Heeseung, and you know that you are right the moment Heeseung wraps his arm around your waist with his head dipping down to press a kiss on your shoulder, displaying his possession over you.

“Sunoo was only joking, Heeseung.” Riki rolls his eyes as he smacks the back of Sunoo’s head, eliciting a wince from the latter. Riki briefly glances at you, his face remains impassive. “You look nice.”

Your eyes widen at the mere compliment from Riki, which you totally didn’t expect, given that Jaeyun once told you that Riki rarely gives compliments, even towards his own friends.

Still holding you in his possession with his nose and mouth burying in your hair, Heeseung manages to shoot them a withering glare, prompting the three to avert their gaze as they haphazardly make their way to the SUV.

Finally settling inside the Range Rover, everything smells anew, as if the car had been purchased just earlier. As Heeseung starts the ignition, you proceed to buckle your seatbelt while the three musketeers are seated in the backseat. The commotion from behind consists of Sunoo and Jungwon bickering, and when you take a glance at them, you stifle a chuckle at the amusing sight of Riki seated in the middle seeming to be asleep while the other two continue to bicker.

“Sweetheart, give me your hand.” Heeseung, who is driving you out of the palace, extends his hand out to you with his palm facing upward.

With a soft smile, you place your hand on his palm before he intertwines your fingers together. Your heart beats in a cadence that is beginning to feel familiar as you watch him place a kiss at the back of your hand while his other hand clutches the steering wheel in an expert motion.

“You can go to sleep, if you want.” Heeseung tells you, still holding your hand that is placed above his thigh, as he provides you with comforting warmth from his touch and how perfectly your hand fits his.

“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy.” You decline politely, but the weight pulling down at your eyelids contradicts your words, and soon you find yourself drifting into the familiar realm of sleep.

It seems as though the journey to the beach isn’t that far off, as you are jolted awake by the sound of the car door slamming closed, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open only to be greeted by the sight of the coast from afar. Soon, you and Heeseung trail behind Sunoo and Jungwon while Riki has gone ahead.

“Don’t leave my side.” Heeseung’s breath tickles your earlobe as he speaks softly. His arm around your waist is a display of possession that feels firmer as soon as you enter the scenery of throngs of knights members dominating this entirety of the beach.

“I won’t.” You reassure him with a sweet smile, earning you a kiss on the forehead from him.

“Good. I don’t trust any of them around you except Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.” Heeseung murmurs to you before his attention is focused on the knights ahead of you as they wave at him and salute him in different forms of greeting.

Although you feel relief that they don’t seem to gawk their eyes at you or throw any crude remarks at you, you can’t help but notice that the way they avoid staring at you seems deliberate. Little do you know that Heeseung has given them silent warnings just with his steely eyes.

“Heeseung! You came!” Yeonjun’s greeting is one of exuberance as he approaches Heeseung from the side, and you feel Heeseung loosening his grip on you unlike earlier.

“If it weren’t for Jungwon, I wouldn’t be here.” Heeseung tells him with a scoff, his attention solely on Yeonjun as they begin to converse while you distract yourself as your eyes sweep over to the bunch of them in an effervescent element engaging in a sport of volleyball. There is also music blaring from the speakers, adding more vibrancy to the lively atmosphere.

“Anyway, you’re with Y/N now?” Yeonjun’s inquiry grabs hold of your attention. “I know it’s not in any of my business, but what about the others?” You know that he is referring to three specific individuals. “That reminds me. Is this going to end up just as it did before─”

“Sweetheart, are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” Heeseung ignores Yeonjun deliberately, to which you frown in visible confusion. You don’t miss the way Heeseung casts a warning glare at Yeonjun before looking at you with softened eyes. “Do you feel hot?”

“I'm okay, Hee.” You smile awkwardly as he proceeds to bring you away from Yeonjun, and despite your desire to know what Yeonjun meant, you don’t want to piss off Heeseung more than he already is, as evident in the way he holds you.

“Heeseung! Come on!” Jungwon calls Heeseung over to his team. Heeseung seems contemplative as he comes to a halt, his eyes glancing at you. Before he can make a decision, Riki emerges from behind and slings his arm around Heeseung. “Y/N will be fine.” As if Riki read his mind, Heeseung immediately releases you before the younger drags him towards the volleyball section.

As much as you love Heeseung clinging to you, you can’t deny that you feel suffocated at times, especially when the wave of possessiveness rolling from him often knocks the breath out of you. You smack your cheeks lightly, inwardly groaning at the thought of having four men clinging to you, possibly 24/7.

“Why are you slapping yourself?” Taehyun’s voice startles you as your body jolts. You look at the side, only to be greeted with the infectious smile on his charming countenance. “Nice to see you here, Y/N.”

“Taehyun,” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I wasn’t slapping myself.”

“Sure, you weren’t.” Taehyun jokingly rolls his eyes before beckoning you to follow him. “Since you’re looking a little lonely, wanna join us? Plus, your presence could really lift Beomgyu’s mood since he has been a little upset since you rejected his offer the other day.”

“The offer─Oh.” Realisation dawns on you as you recall. With a small smile at Taehyun, you proceed to follow him as he brings you over to the familiar bunch. You ignore the fact that they are shirtless since, after all, they will be venturing out to the waves with surfboards in their grasp. Beomgyu is one of them.

“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” One of them, whom you recognise as Jeongin, casts you a smirk, and his remark draws the others’ attention to you.

“I thought there would be no ladies.” Hyunjin muses, and a predatory glint in his eyes brings you discomfort.

“Don’t you know that she’s an exception now?” Soobin’s tone sounds rather mocking before the collective snickering emitting from them comes, rendering you disheartened at the fact that words have spread to the devil’s knight club about your explicit association with their leaders.

“Enough.” The austerity in Beomgyu’s tone is enough to silence them. “Any disrespect towards Y/N won’t be tolerated.”

“You heard my best friend. Now play nice.” Taehyun’s words of advice are dismissed by them as they proceed to venture out to the waves in the ocean that are approaching while your attention is fixed on Beomgyu.

“Sorry about them. They really need to learn how to shut the fuck up sometimes.” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I really didn’t expect to see you here. So Heeseung wasn’t joking when he said you’d be busy with him, huh?”

“It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’m used to it.” You chuckle dryly. “I heard from Taehyun that a certain someone was being sulky because of me.”

Beomgyu seems almost sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Nah, it’s not because of you. Tae totally made that up.” You grow amused as he glares at Taehyun, who feigns innocence in the way he blinks his eyes.

“As much as I would like to talk more with you, a man’s gotta surf.” Beomgyu shoots you a mirthful grin. “You are welcome to watch us surf, by the way.”

“Um…” Your eyes dart at Heeseung from afar, noticing him in his sporty element as he serves the volleyball expertly while his black cap has long since fallen to the sand. Well, since Heeseung is entirely occupied, it won’t hurt for you to watch the other guys surf, right?

Not too long later, you are seated on a small picnic mat by the coast, thanks to Taehyun’s offer, so you won’t have to dirty your dress. Your mouth is agape as you watch in amazement at the sight of them surfing, and at times you find yourself worrying whenever they fall off their surfboards, resulting in them plunging into the relentless waves.

But then, a sense of neglect comes as you pout your lips, getting distracted by the thought of Heeseung. Heeseung has yet to come for you, leaving you to wonder if he has forgotten about you since he is too busy with his fellow knights. The sun on the horizon has even begun its descent as time has passed by quickly.

“Look who is being sulky now.” Beomgyu’s teasing voice pulls you out of your thoughts before you are aware of his presence next to you. When you look at him, his hair is wholly drenched while droplets of water trickle down his skin. “What’s wrong?”

You feel compelled to confide in him after how nice he has been to you. “It’s nothing important.”

“Then why are you still pouting?” Beomgyu points out, his finger is touching your lips. “Don’t pout. You’re not five.”

You gasp in disbelief before shoving him by the shoulder playfully. “Rude.” You give him a scowl, but his chuckles are so infectious that you find yourself joining him. “I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to come off like a needy girlfriend when I'm not, but I feel kind of neglected.” You begin to unravel your thoughts after the two of you have calmed down.

Beomgyu examines your crestfallen eyes before the view of your side profile greets him as you gaze out at the beautiful dawning horizon. “It’s about Heeseung.” He points out the obvious, and the certain edge in his tone goes unnoticed by you. “You two used to be rivals, so what changed now?”

A soft smile touches your lips. “I guess you can say feelings have changed. It turned out, I didn’t really hate him as much as I thought I did.”

Beomgyu merely hums. “Heeseung is a great guy. You can be assured that he’ll take good care of you.” You can’t help but discern the lack of sincerity in his compliment.

Nevertheless, you continue to vent your feelings to him, inattentive to your surroundings, which include the danger hurling towards you. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. Is it even possible to like four people at once─”

“Y/N, look out!” It all happens too fast for you to comprehend, because one moment you feel assured by his oddly comforting presence to confide in him, and the next, you find yourself being pinned down to the sand, your eyes widening as he hovers on top of you.

“W-What just happened?” Confusion laces in your voice while there is unsettling turmoil in your tummy, and you have no idea whether it’s the position you are in or the fact that you feel a pair of heated eyes at you that is not Beomgyu’s.

“Volleyball.” Beomgyu says as you follow the movement of his eyes before you spot the volleyball just a few metres from you. “You almost got hit.”

“Ah, thanks.” You utter distraughtly as he slowly backs away from you. You cast him a small yet curt smile before rising from the ground. “I’m just gonna head off to the washroom.”

“Oh, do you need me to come with you?” He asks, standing as well.

You immediately shake your head. “It’s okay! I just want to wash my face.” You attempt to politely refuse him, but even you know that your words are uttered in a ramble. Without waiting for his response, you quickly navigate your way to the washroom, which is thankfully not that far off from where you are.

Still, you can’t shake off the feeling of eyes on your figure, and the first person that comes to mind is Heeseung. Colours begin to drain from your face at the realisation that he may or may not have seen what happened, but it was not as if you and Beomgyu did anything beyond appropriate.

Your heart nearly jumps at the sound of your phone chiming in your pocket, and your first thought is the anonymous person. Groaning out, you fish out your phone and unlock your phone screen, but the notification comes from someone you didn’t expect, and just seeing his name is enough to bring dread to you.

HEESEUNG: Turn around.

You do so slowly before finally spotting Heeseung not far from you, as he is still being surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces. The bill of his cap casts a shadow over his face as he appears to be speaking with them while a smirk occasionally tips at his lips. He appears to be looking down at his phone before his dark eyes finally meet yours fleeting, and it is enough for you to be alarmed.

Ding! You look down again to read.

HEESEUNG: Go back to the car and get into the backseat.

Even though it is an odd instruction, you don’t question it further as you find yourself walking in haste, almost as if you are getting away from your predator before it captures you. But wait…perhaps you should devise an escape scheme, or maybe you shouldn’t, but the sudden adrenaline rush in you feels overpowering.

Ding! You check your phone again, and this time, you know you are in for something.

HEESEUNG: Keep walking, and don’t even think of trying to escape.

That is when you know he’s not far behind you. You begin to pick up the pace while your heart pounds harder against your chest. It isn’t long before you finally reach the SUV and head for the backseat, where the door has been unlocked.

You can hear your pulse drumming in your ear as you regulate your breathing, while the stillness in the car feels rather suspended as you wait in uncertain anticipation. Seated on the right side, the door beside you swings open, startling you. Upon his ominous arrival, you slowly yet discreetly scoot away from him.

“Heeseung─” You gasp loudly while your heart lurches in your chest as you find yourself being pinned to the seat with his fingers seizing your neck in a threatening hold. Your body feels as though you have been paralysed underneath him. You open your mouth to speak, but he silences you with his lips and thrusts his tongue into your mouth forcibly, allowing you to taste the fresh taste of his cigarette while his cap falls off his head.

The tension crackling in the air is like electricity, one that sends you perpetual shivers all over your body. The disoriented sound emerging from the back of your throat is a mingling of both whimper and moan that parallels your confusion and fright for the enraged male who is kissing you as though he is punishing you.

Tears prick in your eyes as he bites down your bottom lip painfully, nearly drawing out blood. You attempt to push him away from you, but his grip on your neck tightens, nearly blocking the airways that have faint black dots appearing in your vision.

You hate it. You hate it that you feel petrified of Heeseung at this very moment, knowing that he can easily snap your dainty neck with just one move. You whimper, accepting defeat, as he manages to draw out blood from your bottom lip while it throbs.

“What the fuck was that?” His gravelly, deep voice sounds rough as he speaks into your mouth, while your lips feel swollen by his unforgiving kisses and bites.

“Heeseung.” You whimper helplessly, still trying to resist him as you valiantly push him in the chest, but he grabs both of your wrists with ease and has them locked above your head with one hand.

His tongue licks at the seam of your lip, tasting your blood. “I just can’t leave you alone for a while, can I?” He scoffs out, the corner of his lips upturning a smirk while his callous eyes penetrate into your glistening ones. “And you dared to go to Beomgyu after I told you not to go near him? Fuck, you really like to test my patience that much, don’t you?”

“I didn’t!” You try to deny it despite feeling lightheaded at the restricting air in you, but that only earns you a degrading scoff from him. He releases your neck, allowing you to regulate your erratic breathing while you hear some shuffles before you feel his hands invading underneath your dress to search for your underwear just to practically tear it apart, eliciting a gasp from you.

“Heeseung!” You attempt to close your legs, hating that your body and awaiting cunt are anticipating him. Your disobedience earns you a slap on your thigh before he forces your legs apart as you are fully bare from below.

Your hips jerk at the sensitivity of his thumb stroking your clit before the pad of his fingers slides down on your slit, every rub he administers feels deceptive. “Seungie─Ah!” You yelp out as soon as his hand lands a sharp smack on your pussy while the sound echoes in the car.

“Oh, sweetheart, I was hurt.” He sighs as his fingers rubbing your slit feel deliberate, almost cunning, before he smacks your pussy again, and this time twice as hard that you swear you feel the searing burn. “You smiled, laughed, and even fucking touched him.”

A whimper leaves your lips, hating yet loving the pain as he abuses your pussy again, but soon the arousal comes forth, and when he lands a sharp smack to your clit, you arch your back while a moan tears from your throat.

“You’re not supposed to like this, sweetheart.” He scoffs out a smirk before delivering another smack on your clit. “Only desperate, pathetic sluts are supposed to find this enjoyable. Are you one?”

“N-No!” You gasp as he plunges two fingers deep into your sopping heat, scissoring you at an unforgiving pace yet with precision that has you going lightheaded.

“Yeah, you are slut. A dirty fucking slut.” He sneers down at you, watching as your face contorts into pleasure as you moan out with your head thrown to the back. Your hands move haphazardly to latch on his moving wrist, needing him to shove his fingers deeper while his dark chuckles send shivers through you before he withdraws from you. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take the whole of me and everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”

Panic blooms in your chest as you lift your head to get a better view of his cock as he settles in between you. You try to scramble away from him, fearing the possibility of him tearing your insides apart upon seeing the thickness and length of his enraging cock, but he effortlessly pulls you by the legs and spreads them wider, and he thank fuck that the SUV is spacious enough.

“Heeseung, please!” Fear laces in the tremor of your voice as your hips jolt at the sensation of him smacking the head of his cock on your sensitive nub, and yet, you can feel your cunt throbbing incessantly with need and anticipation. “Hee─”

You can feel it — the head of his cock breaching in between your fluttery walls — and he doesn’t relent even as you whimper out your pleas, which only turns him on. He grits his teeth, feeling the resistance of your fluttery walls hugging him tight, but with an unbridled urgency, his cock manages to bury inside of you fully with one vigorous yet swift thrust. “Oh, fuck,” He hisses lowly, feeling your tight resistance of around him.

You feel like a sweet virgin when, in fact, your pussy has been used an uncountable number of times by his best friends, and that itself ignites a blazing jealousy in him. He does an experimental thrust as he watches your face contort into pain while a feeble yet cute moan spills from your lips and your eyes flutter closed with your back arched before drawing his cock out with a long drag against your walls, the head remaining inside before he decides to expunge any mercy as he delivers a hard, deliberate thrust, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Seungie.” Tears are welling in your eyes as the painful stretch persists while your cunt so desperately tries to accommodate his cock. With his body hovering on top of you, your arms hook around his broad, dependent shoulders while your legs slowly wrap around his waist, drawing a smirk on his lips at how you evidently submit yourself to him. 

“Gonna make sure you remember that you belong to me and ruin you for anyone.” His tone holds dark promises while his hauntingly beautiful eyes darken with an insatiable desire, distracting you momentarily from the pain in the way he is drilling his cock into your sopping cunt with his hips slamming down painfully on yours. “Just wanna lock you up and keep you hidden from everyone else.”

“Ugh! Hee!” A loud moan emerges from the back of your throat as he fucks his pent-up emotions into you, prompting you to unhook your arm from his shoulder to muffle your mouth with the back of your hand while tears continue to accumulate in your lower lids. Each thrust he delivers incites your quivering muscles, causing them to contract and enclasp his cock.

Heeseung narrows his eyes at you, not liking the fact that you are pathetically trying to muffle the sweet sounds from your mouth. With one hand beside your head to support his weight, he uses the other to pull your hand away from your panting mouth and intertwine your fingers with his before placing them above your head.

“Please! Please! Please!” You begin to blabber, any remnants of resistance in you dissolve as each pelting thrust builds new heights of pleasure while your hips move in tandem with his.

Heeseung captures your lips in a sloppy kiss that punctuates the cold, stagnant car. With your lips parting open, he swallows every breath and moans from you, his tongue probing in your hot cavern and clashing with your tongue. Without letting up the pace of his thrust, he begins to make out with your tongue, exchanging saliva and sucking your tongue, which creates a sound so lewd in your ears.

“Yeahhhh, sweetheart,” He whispers amorously into your moaning mouth, his voice laden with lust, loving the way you every so often roll your eyes to the back while your arch causes your boobs to press against his chest. “Feels good, yeah? You love my cock?”

You nod your head as you feel delirious. “Mmhmm! I love it!” You moan out, feeling a knot form in your tummy.

“That’s fucking right. My cock, not Beomgyu’s or anyone else’s.” He snarls coldly as he releases your bound wrists, only for his hand to make its descent, his fingers now curling around your throat. “Only I can satisfy you.”

“Hee!” You gasp out as he squeezes your neck, nearly blocking the airways and rendering your breath ragged. The fear is soon eclipsed by intense pleasure as he has you in a chokehold. Just as black dots begin to appear in your vision, he loosens his grip on your neck just slightly. Your swollen, irresistible lips entice him to seal you in a searing kiss.

“Ugh! Hee!” Your moans sound like a broken record against his lips, your impending orgasm teetering at the edge. “I’m─”

“Oh no, you don’t.” His cruelty shines through his smirk while he doesn’t let up his thrust. “You don’t deserve to cum. You’re going to be my dump cum slut, and your sweet cunt is going to milk every drop of my cum.”

“Seungie! Please!” A sob spills from your numb lips, with tears leaking from your eyes. Like a bitch in heat, you rut your hips against him, intensifying your teetering orgasm. “I-I’m sorry! You’re the only one I want!”

“Yeah? Then fucking say it.” He grunts out, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your temple. “Say that you won’t be anywhere near Beomgyu or any man who is not us.”

“I promise I won’t!” You give him your word so easily without much consideration, the earnest in your punctuation seems to satisfy him. He removes his hand from your neck and drags his fingers down your quivering stomach until they reach your clit  “Ugh! Please, Hee! I want to cum!”

Heeseung only smirks in response as he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb in patterns before pressing it down deeper, eliciting a loud moan from you. “Yeahhh, go ahead, pretty baby. Cum for me.” 

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as you feel something overpowering, causing your body to writhe underneath him while every fibre of your being sizzles with white-hot pleasure. “Heeseung!” You scream as soon as you feel it.

“Yeah, babyy. Fucking squirt for me.” Heeseung grits his teeth as he doesn’t let up his administration on your bundle of nerves, even as you squirt for him, bathing him with your essence while your body convulses uncontrollably. “That’s it. Oh, that’s a good slut.”

You whimper weakly in response; your body is totally spent, and you swear you can feel bruises on your hips due to how hard he slammed. Heeseung’s hunger for you is insatiable, as his eyes rake all over you before he unsheathes his cock from your fluttery hole. 

Just as you think Heeseung is done, he leans forward, his hands around your spent body, and manhandles you into a position that has you perched on his lap. Despite your weakened limbs, you attempt to resist him.

“No, please, no.” You protest weakly as his hand holds you by the waist to lift you up with such ease.

“Yeahhhhh baby,” He drawls, a heavy lust projecting in the rasp of his voice. “Gonna fuck you some more, beautiful.”

“W-Wait! Heeseung─!” A broken moan spills past your lips at the sheer girth of his ramming cock that nestles deep inside of you with his firm hands on your hips, forcing you down on him. “Heeseung! Please!”

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so good again.” He smirks against your skin before placing a kiss on your pulse, revelling in the sweet sound of your moans and cries as you plead. “Yeah? My good girl just wants to be fucked, doesn’t she? That’s why you’re fucking soaked all over me.”

“No.” Tears cascade in rivulets down your cheeks as you shake your head, hating and loving the immense pleasure he is giving you for the second time. 

“Yesss.” His teeth sink into your skin, grunting deeply with each hard and deliberate thrust he delivers into your overstimulated yet soaked cunt that feels unforgiving. His fingers are tangled in your hair to grip it as he forces you to face the roof of the car while the other hand cages your waist.

This time, the way he is fucking into you feels more for his pleasure, as though you are his fucktoy. The continuous sound of splat!-splat! as you bounce onto his cock is disgustingly lewd. With your neck bare in his hungry eyes, he latches his lips on your throat, humming against you and sending vibrations to your throat before trailing his kisses across your neck. He releases his grip from your hair as he dips his head down, allowing his face to burrow into the nook of your neck with sweat trickling down your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He announces huskily while his hot breath hits the sheen of your skin. His arms slither around your waist to pull your body closer to his while his hips relentlessly buck up, and you swear you can feel his cock bruising your cervix.

With a languid moan, you force yourself to wrap both arms around his neck, hugging him close as you await his arrival. Hearing his low guttural moan, he holds you down firmly without any possible escape for you as he finally shoots a white rope of cum into you, sealing your fate with his.

Silence engulfs the two of you with the accompanying sound of your laboured breathing. He doesn’t say anything, only hugging you with his face still buried in the nook of your neck. You take this moment to observe your surroundings, and your eyes widen at the condensation from all the fucking evident on the car windows, but thankfully, they’re factory-tinted glasses, so it is nearly impossible for anyone to learn of your dirty tango inside the car unless they come closer.

“Heeseung.” Panic is evident in your voice while your eyes widen at the sight of knights entering the parking lot, as they seem to be heading back since the weather has turned gloomy with droplets of rain descending.

Heeseung merely hums, completely unbothered, as he kisses your neck leisurely before deciding to add another of his marks to your delicate skin, distracting you from panicking at the pleasurable sensation of his lips assaulting the sensitive part of your neck.

“Heeseung!” You whisper, tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you watch some knights walk past the Range Rover from each side while commotions emanating from them can be heard. “Heeseung! Stop! They might see us!”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” He murmurs against your skin before pulling away, satisfied to see a fresh hickey embellished on your skin for him to proudly display to anyone that it’s his mark. “Even if they see us, we’ll be giving them a show.”

You gasp at the sensation of him bucking up his hips as he thrusts his cock into your wholly drenched cunt. “H-Heeseung─” Just as he delivers a jarring thrust, a loud moan accidentally tears from your throat before he silences you with his palm covering the whole of your mouth, nearly suffocating you.

“Shhh, you don't want them to know that we’re fucking, right? Or maybe you do?”” He asks mockingly as you shake your head frantically. A muffled moan elicits from you as he thrusts again. “You wanna let everyone know how much of a slut you are for my cock, don’t you?”

Upon feeling your walls clench around his cock at the unceasing degradation, dark chuckles leave his lips. “Yeahh, keep clenching around me like that. You love it when I’m mean to you, yeah?” He asks huskily as he uncovers your mouth, allowing the noise from you to be let loose as he forces you to bounce onto his cock for a few times before he lifts you away from him.

“Get on your fours.” The sheer authority exuding from him compels you to heed his instruction, whimpering as embarrassment washes over you with the entirety of your ass facing him. Your body jolts in surprise just as he delivers a harsh smack on your ass cheek at the same time as the thunderous storm in the sky before heavy rain begins its descent.

Goosebumps arise on your skin at this temperature. Your head is level with the window, allowing you to see some knights walking and running to their vehicles. A moan falls past your lips as soon as his cock rams into you, the squelching sound a testament to your essence emulsifying with his.

“Fucking hell. Just can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, baby.” Heeseung says in between heavy, ragged breaths as he hits it from behind, his hand pressing down on your lower back, forcing you to form a perfect arch of your back. “Oh, you are so perfect for me, my beloved.”

You moan out in response as you move your hips to meet his thrust. “Seungie, more, please! Oh! Right there!”

“Yeah? Right there?” His husky voice causes your cunt to clench around him. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s your spot, isn’t it?”

“Mmmhmm!” You bite down your lower lip, your eyes fluttering close, just as he grabs a chunk of your hair for leverage while his other hand grips your hip. “You fuck me so good, Hee.” You say in a languid slur.

“I know, pretty.” He smirks down at you while his hand searches for your clit to rub it furiously, drawing more moans from you. “I’m gonna cum in you over and over again. You’ll take it like the cum dump you are, will you?”

“Yes.” You nod your head, desiring for him to fill you up to the brim. “Hee, kiss me.” Upon your polite request, he finds it hard to refuse you, and so, with his fingers in your hair, he raises your body until your chest hits his back. He seizes your chin to turn your head to the perfect angle for him to kiss you hard.

“I’m cumming.” You murmur into the kiss, your hand latches onto his wrist as he continues to rub your bundle of nerves.

“Cum with me again, sweetheart.” He pants against your moist lips before you pull away from him and rest the back of your head on his shoulder while your hand reaches up to grip his hair. “Your pussy was made perfect for me and me only.” He continues to deliver his dirty talk into your ear, even as your pussy spasms around him as you come undone with him. 

Heeseung feels your body shivering in his embrace. “Are you cold, my beloved?” He asks softly, taking you by surprise at the instantaneous change of his whole demeanour into the gentle, soft-spoken Heeseung that you have grown affectionate for.

“Yes.” You reciprocate in the same tone despite having to regulate your ragged breathing. As you look at him, the gentleness in his eyes is fleeting before the familiar darkness takes over.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” Within a matter of seconds, he has you settled on his lap and wastes no time in burying his cock into you as he forces you down.

“Seungie.” You whine before he seals you into a kiss, gradually turning into a sloppy make-out session as you feel the sheer exertion from all the fucking.

“Pretty girl,” He sighs against your lips, smirking as he slowly bucks up his hip. “Let’s fuck some more.”

Lee Heeseung is a beast under the disguise of doe-eyed Bambi, you think.

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Having the whole palace to yourself is something you never expected. Apparently, Heeseung had to attend a knights’ soirée where only exclusive members were invited, including the alumni, which would be hosted at a private bungalow owned by Sunghoon. That also explains the reason why Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon have been far from your reach since they have been busy planning and organising for the soirée.

Still, you feel a tad sullen that the three of them couldn’t be bothered to call you just once. Upon having seen your not-so-subtle petulance, Heeseung decided to grant you the liberty to do whatever your heart desires, for as long as you steer clear of the second level, specifically the south wing area.

It is odd since you feel as though he was warning you. Your mind begins to recall your conversation with Heeseung earlier.

“But why can’t I?” You inquire, your lips forming a small pout, while your eyes sparkle with genuine curiosity as you watch him trying to secure his tie underneath his white collar shirt in front of the full-length mirror. You can’t help but narrow your eyes at how his attempt seems deliberate, as though he is purposefully failing at tying it.

Heeseung casts a side glance at you as you are seated on top of the dressing table with your legs swinging back and forth lightly in an airy manner and your palms placed on the edge of the table as you slant your body forward. His cock twitches beneath the confines at how lovely yet luscious you look in a pink floral-printed dress with the hems hiked up above your plush thighs.

“It is more for your sake, sweetheart. Besides, you need to enter the correct passcode for you to be able to gain access to the whole place.” There is an undercurrent of warning along the lines, and you know you ought to exercise prudence. Heeseung narrows his sharp eyes at the crease on your forehead. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not!” You deny, huffing pettily. Deciding to put an end to your niggling curiosity, you decide to direct your focus at his rather flimsy hands that are still tying a knot, to which your eyes twitch in irritation. “Hee, you’ve been trying for the past ten minutes!”

“If only someone is kind enough to help me.” A smirk plays on his lips while mischief dances delightfully in his eyes, and that is when you have an inkling that he has been failing on purpose. “Come on, sweetheart. Do I need to be straightforward and ask you the obvious?”

You playfully narrow your eyes at him, but nevertheless, you gravitate towards him until you stand in front of him. You try to ignore the heat of his gaze on your face as you fall into concentration on tying the perfect knot for him. “Stop staring at me.” You mutter, finally finishing the last touch before you adjust his collar shirt.

“I have eyes, pretty. I can stare at you for as long as I want.” Heeseung has you trapped with his hands on your waist. Your rosy cheeks flare under the intensity of his dark gaze as he pulls you closer until your body is flushed against his. “I’m gonna miss you, pretty.”

You scoff lightly as you ignore the untamed butterflies in your tummy. “You're only going to be gone for a day.”

“A day is too long.” Heeseung dips his head down to press a chaste kiss at the corner of your lips. "Mmmhm, maybe I should stay here with you.”

“Heeseung.” You attempt to push him away in the chest, but he doesn’t deter in the slightest as he proceeds to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss. You melt against him with your arms hooked around his neck. “You should go now, handsome.” You manage to speak in between kisses.

“I should.” He agrees before he slowly backs you up without breaking the passionate lip lock until your bum hits the edge of the dressing table. He chuckles breathily into the kiss, his lips turning into a smirk. “Maybe in a while.”

And so, ever since Heeseung stepped out of the threshold, you have ventured your pursuits in your way around the palace with an unbridled enthusiasm ─ playing in the arcade, watching a romcom movie in the private theatre, cooking a simple dish in which you failed miserably, and you even went to their private bar where you attempted at making a cocktail of your own recipe, or at least you tried to, and it tasted rather questionable.

But the enjoyment of having the palace to yourself soon diminishes, hurling you into a state of boredom. It’s even worse when your heart yearns for the four men who manage to weasel their way into your heart despite their differences.

A sigh leaves your lips as your boredom has reached its peak, prompting you to lean forward to grab the controller and switch off the television that has been going animated idly. You rise from the velvet couch and stretch out your limbs before checking the time on your phone, seeing that it has struck 11pm. You have been made aware by Heeseung that he would return late, and so you begin to make your way to the stairs with the intention of heading to your room.

Just as you reach the second level, your phone vibrates in your grasp as it chimes loudly, shattering the quietude. Naturally, you expect the notification from either of the four men, but as soon as your eyes fall to your phone screen, the smile on your lips falters.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s been quite some time since our last text. Missed me, sweetheart?

Now that you are firm in your presumption that this is definitely not Heeseung, a flare of temerity surges through you. With a scowl on your face, you proceed to type out your reply.

Y/N: No, and I know you’re not Heeseung.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: So you’re absolutely certain that I’m not him? 

Y/N: Yup. So whatever mind games you’re playing with me are not going to work anymore.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I miss you, you know? I’m hurt that you’re being so cold over the text, sweetheart.

Y/N: You should really stop acting like Heeseung.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Why? Because he calls you sweetheart the way I do? Does it ever occur to you that I might be him?

Y/N: And for what? Heeseung is not the type to waste his time preying on an innocent girl over texts.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: 301120

You blink your eyes while confusion fills your head upon seeing the digits.

Y/N: What is it for?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s the passcode that allows you to gain access to the prohibited part of the palace for anyone, unless you’re a knight.

It seems that your lack of response serves as a hesitation for him before he texts again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Come on, pretty. I know you want to. Besides, you’ve been thinking about it, right? Forget about earlier. I’m now permitting you.

Pretty. Only Heeseung calls me that.

Y/N: How the hell did you know?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I might or might not be yours truly :) Now go on. Once you reach, I need you to follow my instructions.

Moments later, you find yourself standing outside of the steel-built door. Your eyes dart down at your phone before you proceed to punch the correct passcode at the smart keypad, and at once, the door automatically opens, but the sight that greets you startles you while every fibre of your being sizzles with perturbation.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: See that white door? I need you to go inside.

You don’t question how he knows your every step, as though he is watching you. You take a glance at the distinct white door that contrasts with the others before you advance forward. He sends a text again, entailing his instructions once more, which you obediently heed. Not long later, you have entered a cold, stagnant office that feels oddly eerie, probably due to how dark it is with the moonlight streaming into the window.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Good girl. Now head over to the desk and unlock the computer. The password is your birth date.

“Huh?” Your face contorts into confusion, but you don’t waste time as you gravitate towards the desk that is adjacent to the window. Although you are eager, you feel rather hesitant, while a sense of dread creeps up on you as though at every twist and turn, you feel eyes watching your every movement.

Y/N: I don’t understand. What is on the computer that you need me to do instead of you?

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Less typing, more doing the work, sweetheart. Now, I want you to search for the file named 001 and click on it. 

“What?” You whisper, and your heart seems to pound erratically against your chest. You don’t want to believe in his words, but your inner turmoil states otherwise. And so you proceed on, your trembling fingers typing on the keyboard, before you finally succeed in logging in.

The screen displays files that have been arranged in rows. Your eyes search for the aforementioned file before you spot it near the corner. Your hand moves the mouse on the pad to click on it, but once it does, a pop-up webpage appears, requiring you to enter the passcode. You lean back against the swivel chair as you await his next instruction, but minutes have passed and you receive zero notification.

With an impatient huff, you decide to take charge and type in the passcodes you have in mind, but none of them is the right one. Right after your third attempt, you become startled at the warning popup that you have exceeded the number of attempts. Your phone chimes again, and when you look over, his contact shocks and alarms you.

HEESEUNG: Are you asleep, sweetheart? I’m on my way back, and I have a little surprise for you. You’ll see the surprise once you wake up.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath before deciding to forgo everything Anonymous has instructed you, despite your curiosity about wanting to know what sort of content the mysterious file contains. It even remains lingering in your mind as you are cocooned in your fleecy blanket before you drift off to your deep slumber, uncertain of what tomorrow awaits you.

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“We’re the ones who organised the event, and yet they’re the stars of the show.” Jake expresses his clear disdain towards the four familiar elders from afar, who are being surrounded by the other alumni as well as their fellow knights. “Maybe we shouldn’t have invited them.”

“You’re right.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly, leaning his back against the chair leisurely with one leg crossed over the other. His callous eyes penetrated into his father’s face. “Maybe I should’ve drugged his drink and killed him.”

“Easy.” Jay says, his eyes holding a warning as he looks over to an annoyed Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t have stopped you anyway, but Heeseung said to steer clear of trouble for tonight.”

Sunghoon snorts a chuckle as he reaches for his glass of wine. “What did I say? The guy would turn soft because of Y/N, and I was right.”

“He always has a soft spot for Y/N.” Jake tells them quietly, and the mention of your name pulls the strings in his heart as he has long since yearned for you. “He likes her even before the preying.”

“And you know this, how?” Jay inquires with a single eyebrow arched, his tone sounds mocking enough to elicit an irritation from Jake. “Right. You and Heeseung must’ve shared secrets during your one-night stand.”

“Fuck you, dude.” Jake cusses out but remains seated, to which Sunghoon is surprised at his lack of retaliation.

“Where is Heeseung, anyway?” The aforementioned disappearance dawns on Sunghoon as he darts his eyes around his surroundings.

“He probably went for a smoke break.” Jay shrugs his shoulders, one hand in his pocket while the other is holding his e-cigarette, before he begins to take a puff of the flavourful aerosol.

“Heeseung.” Jake spots him entering the main section of the soirée, sauntering towards them with ease while his face remains collected. “Where were you?”

“Got a little busy.” Heeseung’s vague answer doesn’t seem to bother them. He settles on a chair next to Jake, his body facing in the direction where his father can be seen in an amiable element. “Wanna know something interesting?”

“Don’t keep us waiting.” Sunghoon’s interest is piqued as he leans his body forward. “What is it?”

A smirk plays on Heeseung’s lips while his fingers are tapping on the table in a calculated motion. “It looks like our angel decided to be a curious kitten and got herself into trouble.”

“What did she do?” Jake inquires, his eyebrows softly knit together as he grows concerned for you despite knowing that you may or may not have broken a rule or two in Heeseung’s book.

Heeseung merely hums in response as he brings his glass of champagne to his lips before taking small sips. Thankfully, he is able to receive a notification from an app that allows him to view any point he wants since he has implemented hidden cameras in his office, or else he wouldn’t have been alerted of your transgression.

“Isn’t that Y/N’s mother?” Jay’s surprised inquiry draws their attention to the lady, whose body is draped in a red satin dress, as she strides across the hall as though she owns the place. There is such a stark contrast in the ambience she exudes compared to her daughter.

Sunghoon lets out a low whistle, his eyes raking all over her. “Damn. She looks even better up close. Now we know where Y/N got her looks from.”

“Fucking hell. Don’t tell me you’re into milfs?” Jake shoves Sunghoon roughly in the shoulder as his face contorts into disgust.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Jay seems rather enraged by her presence, as evident in the way he clenches his jaw while his steely eyes drill into her figure. “She’s the reason why Y/N was a crying mess that one night.”

“Heeseung.” Sunghoon utters his name as they look at him. Although they are the leaders as well, they innately feel compelled to obey and heed Heeseung’s words.

Heeseung simply adorns a simper smile on his lips while he watches your mother engage in what seems like a polite conversation with his father and theirs, but he is no stranger to the longing and lingering stares exchanged between them. “Let’s sit back and watch the whole thing unfold, shall we?”

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When morning dawns, the fresh yet lovely fragrance pervading your nostrils rouses you before you flutter your eyes open and turn your head to the side, only to be greeted by the sight of a bouquet of roses at your nightstand.

Any remnants of somnolence dissipate as you are overwhelmed with a giddiness that blooms in your chest. So this was what Heeseung meant by his surprise. Eager to see him, you hop into the shower and freshen yourself up. It takes some time for you since you faced a little difficulty in choosing the casual dress of the day, knowing that Heeseung loves it whenever you wear one.

As soon as you reach outside his room, you see the door ajar before you knock to announce your arrival. “Hee?” Just as you slowly push open, the door swings abruptly, causing you to fall forward into him before he swiftly holds you steady.

“Seungie!” You greet him cheerily, your face beaming a smile that brings a fond one to his lips. 

“A good morning, indeed.” Heeseung chuckles before he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate with fervour. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes softening with adoration as he caresses your cheek. “How was my surprise?”

“I love it! Thank you so much.” You grin bashfully before caving into your impulse to kiss his cheek. “How was last night?” 

“It was fine, but it would have been better if you were there with me.” His face burrows in the nook of your neck while his arms cage your waist as he embraces you. “Now I have all day with you.”

In all honesty, you should have kept your distance from him after what happened last night. The maelstrom of inquiries rampages within the confines of your mind; each is a task to grapple with. You refuse to believe that the anonymous person is him since it is illogical, but a part of you strongly believes that Heeseung is him, merely because he permitted you by giving you the access code and called you ‘pretty’ when only Heeseung loves calling you that, and so you back away from his touch.

You see him raising his eyebrow at you, probably noticing the abrupt change in the way you are being, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m hungry. Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You ask politely, trying your utmost not to cower from him as he steps closer to grab your hand.

“I would love to.” Heeseung intertwines your fingers, a firm latch that has you acquiescing. It is frustrating to you because, despite your current firm belief that he is the anonymous guy, another part of you indignantly wants to be closer to him.

As his arm slithers around your waist, you hesitantly allow yourself to lean into his touch. Maybe it won’t hurt for you to sinfully enjoy the intimate closeness with the guy who you believed had been the one who creeped you out all along.

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As time passes, you feel a sense of imminent loom, especially in the way Heeseung acts and how he plays his words in riddles that are awfully like Anonymous did, so it only amplifies your unwavering presumption. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as you trail behind him. You try to sound as if you’re curious, but in actuality, you recognise the route he is taking as he seemingly guides you.

“To the wonders of horror.” Heeseung looks over your shoulder with a sly grin. Again, you are thrown into the whirlwind of confusion at his words, which is evident on your face and brings out a lighthearted chuckle from him. “I’m kidding, but aren’t you curious about what the prohibited part of the palace holds?”

You give him a bewildered stare. “But you said that I should steer clear of the south wing.”

“And I’m permitting you now.” His words give you a whiplash. “Don’t worry. I’m obviously one of the authorizers, so you won’t be getting into trouble.” A smirk touches his lips.

It isn’t long before you finally reach outside of the familiar steel-built door. Despite knowing the passcode, you look away as he proceeds to punch in the code on the smart padlock before hearing the door automatically open.

You clear your throat as you fall in the same steps as him. “I didn’t expect for the inside to be this big.” You remark, feigning surprise in your tone as you ostensibly look around in wonderment.

“Only the knights have access to this place.” Heeseung informs you, and from the looks of it, he seems to believe in your ruse. “We have five meeting rooms in total. Four for our respective house meetings and one for general meetings, which we usually gather on every Devil’s Night.”

“I see.” You nod your head in understanding the new information. Heeseung proceeds to give you more information with each room you walk past. You shudder lightly when he points out the rooms where they store different classes of weapons.

“That’s my office.” Heeseung tells you as he points his thumb in the direction of where the familiar white door is. “Regular knights aren’t permitted to enter unless they want to face the consequences.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat harshly. “Oh.” is what you manage to utter. Thankfully, Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice the tremor in your voice as he proceeds to guide you in the other direction, where his house meeting room is.

You look away just as he punches in the code on the smart padlock before the door opens, allowing you to enter first. “Why did you bring me here?” You ask as you remain stationary in your spot, your eyes examining the room and noting how spacious it is with lavish ornaments, including velvet couches arrayed at each side, distinct designed masks and paintings hanging on the walls, and a fairly lengthy table with a glossy marbled surface that is in the centre of the room.

“Oh, you know, just showing you what’s in this room before you could get too curious again.” Heeseung states calmly as he saunters towards the table, whereas you go completely frigid at the undercurrent that coils dread in you. “This meeting room is soundproof.”

As Heeseung finally faces you, his hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans his lower back on the edge of the table, allowing you to get a clearer discernment of his demeanour that drains the colour of your face.

He knows.

“Why did you tell me that?” You inquire, and your voice shakes with a palpable tremor that brings him wicked delight.

“Because I would hate for you to lose your voice from screaming so much.” A fleeting smile of wickedness touches his lips before a shadow casts over his demeanour. Your pulses drum in your ear as you notice the drastic shift in his gear, as though he is an entirely different person. No longer is there warmth or affection in his eyes. Just stark coldness.

“Heeseung….” You utter his name in a splintered whisper, taking one feeble step back, as if taking prudence in any case he decides to chase you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t think that I wouldn’t know?” Heeseung adorns a cynical smile on his hauntingly cold countenance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words fly from your mouth without any warrant, causing you to bite down on the flesh of your inner cheek.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. But I want to hear the confession from your mouth.” You can see it in his eyes—the storms raging in silence at your audacity. “Did you trespass on my office, Y/N?”

Not sweetheart, pretty, or even beloved. Just your name being uttered in a cold detachment that is painfully foreign to you.

The unsettling tension feels oppressive as it tethers your neck, while the fear that resides in your heart manifests in the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee him, but it is as though you are rendered immobilised under his piercing gaze that is fixed solely on your transfixed figure.

Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you swear that the cold temperature in the room has dropped to subzero. The longer the penetrating silence that shrouds the foreboding atmosphere in the room persists, the more reason for you to grasp the opportunity to escape, especially since he is further away from you and most probably unable to catch up to you.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” His once honeyed-dripping tone sounds eerily dark, with a rasp projecting in his husky voice, evoking involuntary yet familiar lust amidst the palpable terror. “Did you, or did you not trespass on my office?”

“I─” Just when you finally find your voice, it disappears again, prompting you to smack your lips shut and swallow the frightful lump in your throat. Your nails digging into your palms form the shapes of crescents as you clench your fist.

Confusion finds its way to plunge into the whirlpool of torrential emotions within you. You were certain that he was the anonymous guy who had been sending you all those texts, and you even followed his instructions. Could all of these be some sort of twisted test he decided to experiment on you?

Of course, it could be. After all, Lee Heeseung is as detrimental as his comrades.

You mentally nod your head to yourself, firm in your suspicion that Heeseung is indeed the anonymous guy, but you’re not about to let it be known to him.

“I didn’t─”

Heeseung scoffs out a chuckle at your audacity, his lips upturning a smirk while his eyes gleam dangerously with explicable sentiments that have you fully grasping the severity of your situation.

“What did I say about lying? Hmm?” He leans away from the table, his hands remaining tucked in his pockets, as each step he takes towards you is deliberate and stalking, while his dark, piercing eyes penetrate into your frightful ones.

Run! Your mind screams at you to run away from your predator before he devours you.

“T-That you hate liars.” Your timorous voice shakes as you finally regain mobility, now taking steps back. You see it in his eyes — how he finds great delight in your patent fear while the smirk on his wicked yet charming countenance remains.

“And yet you dared to lie.” He tuts, unceasingly stalking towards you, to which you grasp the courage and dash for the door. “Oh, sweetheart, why bother trying when you know you can’t escape?”

You ignore his taunting words from behind as you grasp the handle and try to pull it open, but the familiar sound of ‘ding!’ brings a dreadful realisation to you at the high probability that in order to exit, you must enter the correct passcode on the keypad, the same way when you two entered earlier.

Your pulses drum loudly in your ear as soon as you feel his ominous presence from behind, prompting you to make a run to the side, but his hands manage to seize you.

“Heeseung! Please!” You frantically implore him, struggling against him as the danger in the heat of his touch on your skin intensifies the churns in your stomach.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, look at me.” Heeseung attempts to calm you down as his grip on you tightens due to your persistent attempts to push him away from you.

A whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, turning away from him, but his patience is running thin. “I said, look at me.” He roughly grabs your chin and forces you to meet his hauntingly beautiful eyes while his tone resonates down your core as it has you in a tight grip.

“I’m sorry for entering your office without permission.” You finally deliver your heartfelt apology to him, hoping that he will show you some clemency. Tears begin to accumulate in your eyes as you pleadingly stare at him. “I’m sorry, Hee. I won’t do it again.” 

“I know you are.” He says softly as he caresses your cheek, but even you can discern his hauntingly affectionate gesture. “Why are you crying, my love?”

You only whimper in response as a teardrop slides down your cheek, prompting him to gently wipe it away. “You’re terrified of me.” He states, his tone remains eerily soft while a sinister grin smears across his lips before he leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheek. “Mmhmm, as you should be, baby.” He rasps against your skin.

“H-Heeseung.” You weakly utter, attempting to push him away, but the trails of kisses on your cheek down to your neck enfeeble you as you find yourself succumbing to his dark allure that threatens to engulf you wholly.

“Now, tell me, what was your purpose for snooping around in my office?” He asks in between kisses before stopping at where his mark on your skin is. You shiver at the sensation of his sharp teeth grazing on your skin, a silent warning for you to choose your options wisely.

“I was just curious, I swear.” You try your utmost to tell him earnestly, despite knowing that it isn’t the entire truth. Heeseung seems to believe you as he presses a soft, lingering kiss on his mark before withdrawing from you. A hiccup emerges from your throat, and you stare at him remorsefully. “I’m really sorry, Hee.”

“I know, I know.” His hands descend to your thighs before grabbing them. “Jump.” He forces you anyway, which has you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist with his hand holding your waist while the other grips your thigh for more security before carrying you across the room where the centre table is.

It is as though he has bewitched you with some sort of spell, as you are unable to look away from his eyes. His dark allure continues to pull you into him as he sets you down on the table. His hand deftly supports your back from falling behind while your palms are pressed on the surface behind you.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your mind fogging with lust and perturbation as his touch on your body feels igniting.

“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have lied to me, and even worse when you tried to run away from me.” He says softly, kissing the back of his mouth while his eyes drink in at how beautiful you look being trapped by him.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “But I told you I was sorry.” You whimper, hating how your desire for him is strong despite your fear.

Heeseung ignores your words as he takes you by surprise when he roughly pulls you to him until your legs go rooted to the floor. A gasp leaves your lips at how deftly he is manhandling you as he turns you around, one hand on your waist tight and fingers curling around your neck in a threatening manner.

Your heart pounds harder against your chest as you feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe. “It doesn’t change the fact that you made me angry, my love.” His honeyed-dripping voice lulls at you, akin to a siren serenading its victim.

“Oh, yes. I’m still very angry at you.” He whispers darkly into your ear before he forces your pliant body to bend down until your stomach comes into contact with the surface of the table.

“Heeseung, please.” You have no idea why you are pleading with him. For him to show mercy? For him to fuck you?

His dark chuckles send shivers down your spine as he presses his palm firmly onto your back while the other affectionately rubs your butt cheek. “Plead all you want. By the time I’m done with you, you know better than to cross me again.” You feel his hand moving underneath your skirt before his fingers hook around the string of your underwear. “What’s the safe word?”

“Pink.” You utter, flustered at the fact that you actually do want this. At once, he pulls down your underwear as it falls to your ankles. Your heart races in anticipation as you hear shuffles behind you.

“Sweetheart's been bad. You shouldn't have gone around snooping.” He drawls his words out in a tantalising manner, and you feel your cunt clench at the degradation that laces his tone. His fingers tangle in your hair before bunching the strands in a makeshift ponytail and pulling your head to the back with your neck arched.

“Hee….” You whisper fearfully, yet your cunt remains anticipating his cock. You feel the weight of his body pressing down on yours and his warm breath hitting the shell of your earlobe.

“My pretty sweetheart,” He presses a deep, affectionate kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “You’re going to be good to me, yeah?”

“Yes!” You nod your head frantically, wincing as his grip on your hair hurts your scalp.

“You’re not going to make me angry anymore?” He asks, humming while your pussy throbs when the tip of his cock rubs up and down in between your folds tantalisingly slowly.

“Yes, I won’t make you angry anymore.” You babble, needing him inside of you right now, before enticing him with a soft, whimpering voice you know he won’t be able to resist, “Seungie, please─Ah!”

Blistering pain shoots into your hip bones as they hit the edge of the table with the ramification of his shallow thrust, your walls stretching painfully to adjust to his girth upon the abrupt breach. Without any ounce of clemency in the delivery of your punishment, he begins to rail into your tight cunt, your walls are practically vacuuming his cock with each shallow thrust that hurts so good.

“Ungh! Oh, fuck!” You cry out as your body jolts forward violently, tears accumulating in your lower lids as he relentlessly hits it from behind with an insatiable vigour, while the sound of his balls hitting your jiggling ass echoes throughout the room.

“Dirty, naughty angel. You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.” Heeseung says in between ragged breaths, feeling the wetness along your fluttery walls lathering his cock. Without ceasing his thrust, he delivers a weighted slap on your ass, eliciting a painful yelp from you before he hears sobs spilling from your lips, fueling his lustful depravity into ruining you. “Cry all you want. I’m gonna fucking ruin you and your sweet, filthy cunt for as long as I want.”

“Heeseung! Please!” You implore in between broken moans that mingle with your cries, hating how dementedly rough he is fucking into you and how his demeaning words seem to turn you on as your cunt clenches around him despite the stinging hurt in your chest.

“What the fuck are you pleading for? Dirty sluts like you don’t get to plead.” Heeseung snarls coldly, yanking your hair harder as the action strains your arched neck. The lewd sound of your sopping cunt with each hard thrust he delivers draws a smirk on his lips, one that reflects his cruelty as he revels in the continuous moans and cries emitting from you that resemble a broken record. “Damn, baby. You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“No!” You shake your head frantically, but the motion only hurts your burning scalp due to the roots that nearly feel as though they are about to be ripped off. “Heeseung! Stop! It hurts!” You feel utterly helpless as the painful pull of your hair elevates your body, with your back hitting his chest.

“It hurts, yeah? Hurts so fucking good, hmm?” He nearly growls out in your ear as he releases his grip from your hair only for his hand to make its descent to your nub and rubs your bundle of nerves with the padding of his skillful fingers, amplifying your pleasure that hurls you to the new height of delirium. 

“Heeseung! Too much! Oh─ungh!” Incoherency leaves the moment he shoves two fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to feel the coldness of the rings that adorned his fingers as he slowly slides them further in, nearly choking you while tears cascade down your cheeks as you sob with a drool of saliva sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck─” Heeseung throws his head to the back upon the arrival of his impending orgasm, the pad of his fingers pressing down on your tongue while his vigorous rub on your clit hurls you to the edge of your orgasm, urging you to cum with him. “Yeah, baby, cum with me.” He says so huskily, while the desperate yet teetering clench of your cunt around his ruthless cock is a telltale sign of your imminent climax.

You continue to sob with his fingers that occasionally choke you with how deep it is as he continues to whisper obscenity into your ear, intensifying your heightened senses while the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable. “Fucking take it. Take all of it, my perfect little cum dump.”

At once, Heeseung goes completely still with his hips snapping against your behind as he lets out a guttural moan, filling you to the brim as he cums into you while your aching jaw unhinges with your eyes turning white as your orgasm crashes down on you violently, causing your body to convulse in his grasp. 

Usually, Heeseung would shower you with compliments of how much of a good girl you are for him, accompanied by his kisses all over your face after the fucking, but this time, his action of slipping his cock from your cunt and his fingers removing from your mouth as he steps away from you feels coldly detached.

Nevertheless, you allow yourself to fall flat onto the surface as you regulate your ragged breathing while you feel the mixture of your cum with his slowly leaking out from your gaping yet pulsating cunt. Tears continue to stain your dampened cheeks as you snivel, hating that you have upset Heeseung and broken his trust.

“I’m really sorry, Hee.” You apologise again in between hiccups, unbothered by the aches and pain in your hip bones that probably formed bruises. Upon receiving silence, you feel defeated, whimpering as more waterwork erupts despite the exertion dawning on your body.

“I didn’t mean to.” You continue, your tone is filled with regret. “I was a fool for thinking that you were him. I thought I was being a good girl by following your instructions because I thought you were him. I thought you were testing me─”

You are cut off at the moment he grabs you by the arm, prompting you to raise your body from lying flat on the table. It appears that he really did a number on you as you find your knees buckling underneath you, but he steadily holds you against him.

“Who?” Heeseung asks sternly, his cold voice deepens the hurt in your chest, as does the look in his eyes. “What secrets are you hiding from me?”

You open your mouth to speak, ready to let him know the truth, but you are cut off by the loud chime of your phone in your pocket. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone and grab it before unlocking your phone screen, only to be greeted with a notification from the one you totally expected.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Great show, sweetheart.

“Him.” You utter in a whisper as you hesitantly show Heeseung the text he sent, uncertain of his reaction as you have your gaze lowered. Great show? What did he even mean by that?

Instead of a response, Heeseung takes you by surprise when he deftly carries you in a bridal style. You cling to him with one arm around his neck while the other cradles your phone to your chest. You look at him, noticing how eerily calm and collected his demeanour is. Reaching the door, he expertly punches the code onto the smart padlock with his finger while his arm underneath the back of your knees continues to support you.

“Are you still mad at me?” You dare to ask amidst the palpable apprehension at his haunting silence. You blink away your tears as you slowly lean your head onto his shoulder. Your mere gesture stirs something in his cold, tainted heart. “I’m sorry, Hee.”

A muscle pulses in his jaw, the entirety of his raging anger that brews storms in the wreckage of his mind is not directed at you this time. “I know.”

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The thought of Heeseung appearing in your mind impels you to splash the running water on your face for the third time, as evident in the splotches on your nightgown. You haven’t seen him since morning, and he wasn’t found anywhere in the palace, which only makes you feel more awful than last night. You recall not a single word spoken between the two of you as he brought you to your room, and he didn’t even inquire with you regarding the anonymous guy.

Just thinking about the anonymous guy genuinely peeved you, and yet, you hate yourself for concluding that you believed he was Heeseung. Clearly, you were gravely mistaken when that text came forth last night after the end of the whole Heeseung fucking his anger into you that knocked you out the instant you hit off to bed.

You heave a sigh as you rub your weary face. You know what? Fuck whoever he is. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you give yourself a firm head nod. The resolution in your eyes affirms that you will block and delete his contact number. You proceed to exit the bathroom, keen to return to your bed since the remnants of last night’s exertion are palpable.

Just as you step outside of the bathroom, your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sight of Heeseung seated at the edge of your bed. His outfit denotes that he must’ve been riding his motorbike. His hair looks slightly tousled, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks and adjust them, but you remain rooted to your spot, uncertain how to act next. 

When his eyes meet yours, you are taken aback by the stark contrast to how he looked at you last night. He is looking at you with an unmistakable longing, but as his eyes rake all over your body, adorned in an enticing laced nightgown that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage, the hinge of his jaw is locked while his insatiable desire for you swirls in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” The softness of your voice breaks through his impure reverie of you, prompting him to search for your eyes and notice the visible hurt in them.

Heeseung doesn’t respond to your question as he extends his hand to you, beckoning you to him. “Come here, sweetheart.” The familiar affection in his tone compels you to gravitate towards him, and upon reaching within his reach, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you towards him as you find yourself standing in between his parted legs.

Your heart flutters at the adoration gleaming in his eyes as he looks up at you. You can’t help but cradle his cheek as his eyes bore into yours, feeling as though he is staring directly into your soul. In this light, he looks pretty harmless — nothing compared to how he looks whenever he’s in the mood. “You left me alone almost the whole day.” You say, your tone conveys your dejection. 

“I’m sorry.” It is the first time he has ever apologised to you with such sincerity. Your heart soars as he leans into your touch with his hand above yours. “I won’t leave you alone again. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s okay. I’m the one in the wrong for breaking your trust─” You stop mid-sentence when your sharp eyes catch his bruised knuckles with a few yet tiny cuts that seep blood. Your eyebrows softly knit together with concern as you grab his hand. “Hee, what happened?”

Your genuine concern for him pulls at his heartstrings as he watches you fuss over his mere bruise that feels entirely numb. “I had to intervene and help Jay because a group of them were provoking him in the bar downtown, and a fight broke out. You know how he is.” The corners of his lips curve upon seeing your pouty lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We won anyway, and two of them more or less ended up in comas.”

It is as though you are accustomed to the nature of their penchant for violence, as you don’t feel disturbed by his last statement. Silence prevails as you contemplate, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip before you cave in. “Hee, I’m sure you have many questions regarding last night.”

“I do, but─”

“He called me sweetheart and pretty the way you do; that’s one of the reasons why I believed that you were him.” You cut him off in a ramble, wanting him to know the truth urgently. “He played his words in riddles, just as you do. It’s like he’s a carbon copy of you─”

You let out a small squeal when he pulls you down to him, causing you to fall seated on his lap with his arms caging your waist. “Sweetheart, the issue can wait.” His lips coming into contact with your bare chest just above your cleavage arouses the familiar heat in your core. “Besides, didn’t I say I wanted to make up to you for leaving you alone today?”

“But─” A gasp leaves your lips as he deftly has you pinned against the mattress within a matter of seconds. With your hair sprawled out gracefully in tendrils and your doe eyes staring at him with a concoction of confusion and lust, he knows he needs to show his adoration by pleasuring you.

“We can deal with that tomorrow or even the day after, but for now, let me just focus on you, sweetheart.” Heeseung whispers as he leans down, one hand beside your head to support his weight while the other seizes your chin before he presses a kiss so tender yet one full of passion, creating a sensory experience so overpowering that dispels any lingering doubts, questions, and distress as you reciprocate the kiss with equal fervour.

Your hands go winding through his disheveling hair with a movement of urgency as the kiss moltens with intensity, involving teeth and tongues clashing against each other. Feeling his teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, you moan faintly, getting utterly aroused, which has you locking your legs around his.

The make-out ends quicker than you like as he pulls away from your chasing lips, eliciting a whine from you when he moves away from you. “Seungie, please.”

“I know, pretty.” A smirk touches his lips as he stands by the bed, removing his jacket. Just like that, you are quick to remove your own pieces of clothing. You manage to admire his fine glory, shocking you again when you notice how buff his muscles are compared to the last time you saw him at Yeonjun’s pool party. In just a matter of seconds, he hovers on top of you with his lips urgently attached to yours.

“Oh, Hee..” You sigh pleasurably against his lips, feeling the pad of his thumb circling your clit skillfully as he decides to get you even more worked up. “Please fuck me.”

“Patience, baby.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, his lips ghosting over yours before trailing his kisses down your jugular. Your hips buck up at the sensation of his working thumb on your clit while his lips on your sensitive spot on your neck amplify the pleasure building up in you.

“Seungie.” You whine, getting unbearably impatient as he trails down further until he slots his lips over your perky nipple, sending you a jarring sensation at his tongue licking and teething your sensitive nipple. “Heeseung, just fuck me already.”

Heeseung releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, scoffing lowly before casting you a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight, pretty.” He looks down to grab his shaft to line up at your awaiting cunt before slowly pushing inside, your folds warmly welcoming him.

Maybe it has something to do with him being gentle, but the sensation of his cock thrusting into you slowly yet with such skillful precision that allows you to feel the drag of his cock against the wall so distinctly is phenomenal.

“Oh, Hee,” You moan out as you arch your back with your tits pushed out, which his eyes feast upon while he continues to fuck into you. Each thrust feels better than the previous, and there it is, hitting the spot that has you moving your hips in tandem with his. “Just like that, Seungie. You feel so good.”

“Yeah? I’m fucking you good, sweetheart?” His husky voice sends flutters to both your heart and cunt as it clenches around him, eliciting a low hiss from him while you moan loudly in response. Heeseung eyes down at the visible bulge appearing in your abdomen with his unrelenting thrusts. “Look at that.” He smirks, feeling his pride swell. “Sweetheart can’t handle my cock. Oh, I’m bound to ruin you, my love.”

“I can!” You insist vehemently before getting distracted by the padding of his fingers rubbing your clit, igniting your bundles of nerves. “Oh fuck! Hee! More!” You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck, his warm breaths fanning above your lips as he leans down on you with his arm bracing next to your head.

“More?” He asks mockingly, his lips adorning a smirk, before he kisses you deeply, silencing your noise momentarily.

You hum against his lips before you pull away with your head thrown to the back as you moan, feeling the pleasure building to a new height of ecstasy. “Fuck me harder, Hee.”

“Harder? Like this?” Heeseung grunts above you as he delivers a thrust so shallow that it has your walls hugging him tight and pulsating around him. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel so fucking tight.” He thrusts into you harder just as you wished, satisfied to hear your sweet yet lewd sound of pleasure that is like a melody to his ears. 

His eyes fall on your parted lips, not being able to resist the urge to kiss you again, swallowing your moans. “Gonna fuck you all night, pretty.” He says so huskily into your panting mouth with your lips parted open, to which he spits into your mouth as you gladly swallow with a moan. “Oh, you are so perfect.” He coos, kissing your cheek deeply before trailing down his kisses to your neck while your heart flutters at his word. “Every inch of you was made for me. You were always bound to be mine.”

Despite how hard and shallow he is fucking into you, each thrust he delivers is a testament to the depths of the feelings he has always harboured for you. His hips snap against yours, pressing you deeper into the sinking mattress beneath your body while you moan wantonly as he doesn’t miss the spot that eventually hurls you to the brink of your orgasm. “Hee, I-I’m─”

“Cumming, yeah?” His husky voice sends vibrations to your neck as he rasps against your skin. “Come on, pretty. Give it to me.” He whispers, his hand descending to rub your clit, amplifying your pleasure as the knot in your tummy threatens to unsnap at any time. “Wanna see you wet the bed, baby. Squirt for me.”

You can feel it in your pelvis as soon as he commands, as though he wields the power to control your body. With a moan so pornographic emitting from you, white-hot ecstasy surges through you as you throw your head to the back with your body arched, clear fluid releasing from you as your body convulses uncontrollably under him.

“Damn, baby. Look at you go.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, smirking as he looks down at your squirting mess staining the bed sheet as well as his pelvis, and yet he doesn’t relent from fucking into you even as your slick arousal has coated his cock.

“Nngh! Seungie!” You try to push him away languidly, feeling overstimulated, but he grabs both your wrists and bounds in with one hand, placing them above your head. “Too much!” You whimper, your hips trying to escape him, but he growls out a warning in response before snapping his hips against yours, going completely still as he cums into you.

“Oh, fuck. Milk my cock just like that, pretty.” He moans as he feels your walls eagerly envelope his cum-spraying cock, dropping his head to your shoulder before peppering your collarbone with kisses. His teeth sink into your skin, eliciting a whimper from you that goes straight into his cock as it twitches inside your cum-filled cunt.

“Hee, please.” Tears prickle in your eyes as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. The squelching sound from your runny cunt is disgustingly lewd, but at the same time, it arouses you as your hips betray you as they move sensually in tandem with his.

“I’m gonna be loving you all night, beautiful.” His tone is filled with such affection and sincerity that it causes your heart to swell. He presses a deep, fluttering kiss on your cheek while his thrust doesn’t let up. “Worship your body all night as I should, because you’re just so fucking perfect. So perfect, and rightfully mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.” You manage to utter before he captures your lips, sealing the entirety of your fate as he tethers you to his.

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“Thank you.” You thank the cashier with a smile, forgetting that she can’t see you due to the dark tinted visor of your helmet, before you grab the plastic bag from the counter and proceed to exit the convenience store in haste, worrying that you had him waiting for longer than you intended.

You spot him, remaining stationary as he is seated on his bike with his long legs on each side planted to the ground in an attempt to provide firmer stabilisation of his motorbike. Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he turns his head towards you, though you can’t see his face clearly with his visor obscuring him. The leather jacket looks taut on him with his arms folded across his chest, and his wholly black leather fit matches yours, making you feel giddy again at the fact that you look like a biker couple, with the exception that you’re his backpack girl.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” You stand next to him, showing the plastic bag to him. The intercom built into your helmets allows you to hear each other clearly. “They didn’t have the snacks I was looking for.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Heeseung reassures you before he grabs the plastic bag from you. “Turn around.” You do as he told you, hearing him unzip the black backpack that straps around your shoulder before feeling him stuff the plastic bag into it.

“Are we going back now?” You ask as soon as you mount his bike from behind him. Your arms cling around his body when he switches on the ignition, enjoying the warmth oozing from him.

“Unless you have a place in mind to go to.” Heeseung tells you before he proceeds to ride off, eventually picking up velocity that has you hugging him tighter as you ride against the strong, vindictive wind.

As it’s been more than an hour since he has brought you out for a nightly ride, you decide that it’s time for you to head back. Plus, the exertion that dawned on your body due to how he worshipped you and kept you up all night has yet to dwindle. It is a miracle how you can walk without having to struggle, unlike when you woke up earlier.

“No.” You rest your under-chin on his shoulder while your mere gesture fills his chest with delight. “Let’s go back.”

It takes approximately thirty minutes for you to finally reach their territory, with the opulent gate welcoming you as he proceeds to ride his way to the garage. 

All the while, you are lost in your thoughts that aren’t harbouring such distressing matters ever since you have decided to block and delete the unknown number, but not before giving Heeseung your phone to read the entire conversation from scratch. 

You recall how deceptively calm Heeseung looked when he noted down the contact number, most probably to track the anonymous down since he did tell you that he’d be entrusting the task to Jake, who has expertise in tracking and hacking anything or anyone.

Now, you feel as though the weight on your shoulders has been lifted off, bringing you a sense of tranquillity. You no longer needed to feel the annoying anxiety plummeting into your chest every time you received a notification from the anonymous guy. You feel better now that you know Heeseung was never him. In all honesty, you can’t wait for Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to come back tomorrow, wanting to spend more time with all of them.

“Sweetheart?” Heeseung pulls you out of your reverie as he approaches you from behind, noticing that you have been staring at the massive grandeur of the water fountain from afar, which is situated in the centre of the encompassing entirety of the palace. “What’s wrong?”

Well, now that you have gained awareness that you have actually been zoning out, an idea pops into your mind, prompting you to look at him with a sheepish grin. “Can we play at that fountain?”

Of course, Heeseung will always give you what you want or need, and so with a soft smirk unfurling his lips, you grab his hand before proceeding to drag him with you, the enthusiasm oozing from you as you lightly skip in your steps while Heeseung only watches you with adoring eyes that soften his features, even as you splash the water at him, drenching his clothes.

 “Sweetheart.” He growls out in a playful manner, and the mischief in his predatory gaze sends an adrenaline rush through you. “You’re so gonna get it.”

You squeal just as he charges towards you, prompting you to run away from him despite the fact that the pool of water below you impedes your speed. Your heart nearly lurches in your chest as soon as he captures you from behind, his arms caging your waist as he lifts you up and spins you around with delightful giggles emitting from you.

Setting you down to your feet as the water splashes beneath you, soaking your pants, you turn around with the intention to push him playfully, but he latches his hand onto your waist to pull you closer while the other cradles the back of your head before he smashes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp softly into the kiss.

A symphony of yearning and desire is palpable as he deepens the kiss that deepens the electrifying connection between you and him, while the world fades into insignificance as you get utterly lost in the depths of your passionate kissing.

Just you and him, lips attached, souls intertwined under the moonlight with glinting stars across the divine celestial witnessing this tender intimacy.

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The once-liveliness that brought home-filling warmth to the expanse of your shared dormitory with the girls who used to be your best friends has shifted dramatically and is now foreignly cold, with a discernible hostility emanating from the four of you. Distracting yourself from the agonising silence, your eyes flicker down at your forefinger that is now bare of your purity ring, which has long since been in Heeseung’s possession.

Honestly, you should’ve ignored Yunjin’s call that shatters the tranquilly of you being cocooned in Heeseung’s warm embrace with arms around your body as he had you settled on top of him earlier, but something nudged you into accepting her call only to receive a request from her for you to head over to your dorm. Of course, you were about to refuse, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone. Thus, you are now in a position where you are uncertain whether the three of them across from you really do hate you, because if they did, they wouldn’t have looked as worried for you as they do now.

“Whatever it is that you need to tell me, can you hurry up?” You don’t mean to sound impatiently abrasive, but your resentment for their hypocrisy remains a bitter taste on your tongue. “What is so important that you could’ve told me over text?”

“Because what we’re about to tell you is something that we should’ve revealed to you sooner.” Wonyoung’s tone is devoid of the usual warmth; her eyes are unwaveringly searching for yours. “We don’t want to argue with you again, Y/N. So please keep an open mind.”

You unclench your locked jaw, heaving a sigh as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to argue with you girls either. I’m tired. But if this is about you telling me to sever ties with them, then I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave, not until you finally know about it.” Karina states vehemently, prompting you to look at her. The grim expression on her face mirrors the others’.

You frown. “Know about what?”

“About the girl who got herself caught up in a situation just as you are now three years ago.” Yunjin says quietly as she leans her back against the wall with her hands tucked in her pockets. “They preyed on her the way they did you.”

You can feel something painful pulling your heartstrings, but you remain silent as Yunjin continues, “But their preying on her lasted for a short period of time. Just like you, she was ensnared by their dark allure, and by the time she tried to escape, it was too late.”

“I’m sure you saw her, or at least have heard about her before.” Karina quips. “She used to be in Julie’s clique.” You remember Julie. She was one of the university's former queen bees, along with the others, before they transferred to another university for some reason.

“And the girl that we’re talking about? She was my best friend since high school until we drifted.” Wonyoung adorns a bitter smile while her eyes glisten with nostalgia as she looks at you. “Her name was Jinae.”

The name rings a bell to you, but you are not entirely certain. In all honesty, your freshman year was only filled with pure academics; you were always eager to head back to your dorm after classes ended just to hole up in your room and be surrounded by books. Rarely, or perhaps not once, were you tempted to get involved in gossip or anything that wasn't beneficial to you.

You release a sigh as you unfold your arms. “So what? If this is you trying to make me jealous because they shared a girl in the past, just stop. You can’t do anything to change my feelings for them.”

“This isn’t about a matter of jealousy.” Wonyoung shoots you a scowl. “This is about the grave danger you might be in, all because you blindly fell for their trap and even caught feelings for them.”

You try your utmost to quell your anger while maintaining a composed posture. “Pray tell, what danger awaits me? I’m still alive, aren’t I?” The mockery in your tone seems to tick them off as you continue. “And why the hell should I know about this Jinae girl?”

“Because we don’t want you to end up like her.” Karina says so somberly. 

“End up like her? What do you mean?” You ask adamantly, wanting them to get straight to the point. “Did she transfer to another university or drop out?”

“Worse.” Wonyoung looks down at her hands on her lap. “She’s dead.”

“It’s the exact reason why we’ve been trying so hard to tell you to stay away from them before you get caught deep in their trap.” Yunjin adds.

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before the anger comes as you clench your fist. “So what are you implying?”

“Can’t you see, Y/N? She’s dead because of them!” Wonyoung exclaims, startling you with her outburst. Her eyes are glistening with tears, as though the pain of the loss of her ex-best friend is still fresh. “They killed her!”

“You’re kidding.” You release a sardonic chuckle, shaking your head while your heart begins to pound harder against your chest. “What the fuck, Wonyoung? You’re trying to scare me again by making up a story?”

“She’s not lying, Y/N.” Karina retorts sternly, eliciting a scoff from you. “Jinae’s dead because of them.”

“Oh, spare me your hypocrisy.” You snarl coldly at her as you find yourself rising from the seat. “You were the one who encouraged me to get closer to Sunghoon to make Jaeyun jealous in the first place! And now you’re trying to act like you’re principled enough to condemn me just as the rest, including my parents, did simply because I’m in love with them?”

“You’re in love with them?” Yunjin echoes your words, which finally register in your brain, causing you to falter momentarily, but you decide to brush the matter aside, not wanting to dwell on it any longer and analyse your feelings deeply.

You shake your head, feeling your hand tremble. “I’m not listening to what you have to say next. They may be capable of killing, but they wouldn’t kill someone, let alone a girl, without a reason.”

“So what you’re trying to say is that for as long as there is a reason, it is justifiable for them to kill anyone?” Karina gives you a disbelieving glare. “You’re so brain-fucked over your feelings for them, Y/N.”

“At least I’m happier now.” You snap back. “I’m leaving, and continue to ignore my existence the way you did before, because you were doing a great job at it!”

“Y/N! Please!” Wonyoung takes you by surprise with her urgency and desperation as she catches up to you just as you reach the door. Her hand latches onto your arm. When you turn around with the intention of lashing out at her, you flinch at the tears filling her eyes. “You’re right. I can’t do anything to change your feelings for them, but I don’t want to lose you either.”

A part of you softens up, nudging you to hug her, but the recollection of her words and her cold detachment surfacing in your mind impels you to yank your arm from her. Refraining from uttering another word at her or any of them, you swing the door open and storm off.

Reaching the elevator, you press the button harder than you intended to, and the tension manifests itself in the rising and falling of your chest as you breathe harshly. You refuse to believe their words, and you feel irate at the fact that they truly believed the four leaders, who are evidently head over heels for you, would do anything to jeopardise your life.

As you enter the elevator and press the first level, a disconcerting reality dawns on you, knowing how lethal they are beneath their distinct charms and profound dark allures that serenaded you in the first place. Your head begins to throb as your mind is battling a tempestuous of internal conflict and questions, each vying for their voice to be clamoured in the confines of your mind.

Sighing, you step out of the elevator, noticing not a single student in sight, which is odd, but nevertheless, you navigate your way to the exit. Just as you turn to the right corner, the entirety of the first floor blackens as the lights go out.

A frown pulls at your lips. Strange since the last time this happened was two years ago, resulting in you and your best friends huddling in one room and sleeping on the same bed since they, too, were afraid of the dark.

Your phone rings in your pocket, prompting you to fish it out and see Yunjin’s caller ID. You reluctantly answer her call. “Y/N? Are you still in the building?”

“Yeah, I know. The lights went out, but I’m already making my way to the exit.” You tell her curtly while you feel something feels off, as there is an eerie chill emanating in the dark atmosphere, spurring you to pick up the pace as your pulse drums in your ear. “Hey, Yunjin? I know we're not fine, but can you stay on the line with me for a bit?”

“What’s wrong?” Yunjin sounds worried by the alarming tone evident in your voice.

“Everything’s fine.” You assure her, and in the midst of it, you fail to realise the looming threat approaching you as you are in deep contemplation, your lips tucked between your teeth. “Yunjin, I─”

It happens too fast. One moment you’re walking in haste, and the next something so solid hits you from the back, resulting in you losing your balance before you find yourself falling to the ground as your skulls throb painfully. 

A wince leaves your lips as you clutch your head before goosebumps eerily arise on your skin. That is when you feel an ominous presence looming over your figure from behind, propelling you to scramble away from whoever they are. Their identity is wholly obscure with the all-black fit that seems to camouflage with the darkness, but the sound of their heavy-booted footsteps is unmistakable.

“Y/N?” You forget that Yunjin is still on the line, and frantically, you press the phone against your ear with your trembling hand as you try your utmost to fight against the pain.

“Yunjin!” Just as you call out for her, you receive another hit from the side of your head, causing your body to fall flat to the ground from the impact, rendering you paralysed with the heavy weight of your eyelids fighting valiantly to stay open.

The last thing you remember is your phone being snatched away from your hand and a piercing stab of a long needle into the side of your neck before darkness shrouds you wholly.

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 @kaykay11sworld @firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @superbbananananana @eastleighsblog @in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk @yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously

#the devil’s knights’ prey #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #enhypen hyung line x fem reader

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Furiosa viewing #3 for me last night and I figured something out. I have heard multiple people say that the pacing of the movie felt off or weird or even "slow," even though the plot consistently moves along at a brisk clip. But what people were noticing was not the speed of the story but the structure.

I realized the pacing feels weird because the movie has two third acts.

The overwhelming majority of movies released by Hollywood studios follow a very standardized three-act structure. This is certainly not the only way to structure a film story, but it's the most common one in the Anglophone film world, so common that you have probably absorbed its pattern without even thinking about it. The previous Mad Max movies do generally fit this structure, and Fury Road fits it like, down to the minute.

When we get to the big fight sequence at the Bullet Farm, where we know Jack has prepared everything for Furiosa to leave and they just have to get through this one last mission together, my gut story sense was like this feels like it should be the third act. The fight in the Bullet Farm and the chase with Dementus that ends in Jack's death feels like it should be the climax of the movie. And not just because we are around the two-hour mark at this point, although we are.

In terms of themes and plot arcs and story beats, Jack's death feels like where the movie should end. We start the story with Mary Jabassa telling Furiosa to leave her behind and make it home safe. I'm sure Mary knows she's on a suicide mission at this point, but maybe she can hold off their attackers long enough for her daughter to escape. But Furiosa can't leave her mom behind. So she goes back, and she watches her mom die brutally and gets trapped by Dementus.

Then, at the Bullet Farm, Furiosa has her best chance yet at getting home. She has a fully loaded vehicle, and she's outside the Bullet Farm gates while Jack is stuck inside. Jack, too, tells her to run and save herself. (While it's never spelled out, I'm sure we're supposed to intuit that the green flare means GO.) He probably thinks he's dead either way at this point, but maybe Furiosa can make it out. But once again, she can't do it. She goes back to defend Jack, and we have this little bit of hope of, maybe this time she'll be able to save the person she cares about from being killed by the same warlord who killed her mother. Whether she succeeds or fails, narratively, this feels like it should be the climactic action sequence of the movie.

But there's still another 30 (ish?? I need to watch with a timer) minutes to go after that, in which we have a whole other plot arc of Furiosa getting back to the Citadel, making her prosthetic arm, and going off on her quest to hunt down Dementus. And if this part all feels a bit grueling, it's because your brain expected the movie to end half an hour ago.

(I should pause here to say that you absolutely can write a movie in three-act structure that's longer than 2 hours--you just have to stretch all the pieces out equally or it starts to feel lumpy. And the place where our attention spans are going to be least forgiving of lumpiness is at the end of the movie.)

Well, you might say, maybe Furiosa was just not written with the three-act structure in mind. And that could be true! But I would argue that the oddness of the end of the movie comes primarily from the film not being clear on what narrative question it's trying to answer.

Because an ending that focuses on Furiosa's choice between finally getting home or going back to try to save Jack is addressing the question of, "Do you prioritize saving yourself, or do you fight for the people you love, even if you may end up in a worse situation because of it?"

An ending that follows Furiosa's revenge quest seems to focus more on, "What does seeking revenge do to your humanity?"

Both of these questions are rich territory to be explored in the wasteland, and the other Mad Max movies deal with both of them. But I would argue that the first question is very clearly set up in the beginning of the movie as a thing we expect to be exploring, and the second question, not so much.

I think the story would have benefitted from picking one or the other. And if they wanted to tell a story about the price of revenge, then highlighting this earlier--either by making revenge Furiosa's primary motivation from the beginning, or highlighting it thematically by showing how the quest for revenge warps other characters--would have made the last section of the movie feel more like a payoff and less like a sudden left turn into the desert.

#stay tuned for the alternate ending i wrote in my head last night #i just had to get this piece of it out first #mad max #furiosa #furiosa a mad max saga #story structure #screenwriting

[redaliveviolation]

SPOILERS FOR BATMAN 148!!

Am I a bad person for laughing when I heard that Jason got killed off again? No, here’s why and how I think he should die instead:

This is gonna be a long one so strap in folks. I have sort of been cherry picking this whole run just because the writing has been so wishy washy, so much so that it’s genuinely made me lose an interest in DC. Comics lately have been pulling the weirdest things just for shock value, because they can’t write a half decent story line or character anymore. Their characters will have some growth and then it immediately gets destroyed a couple of issues later.

I’m sure you’ve heard it before (because we all agree) but there’s no real consequences in comics anymore. Characters get killed off at the end of an issue just for them to be revived within a few issues or if we’re going with Batman 148, literally the next one. There’s no legitimate stakes because everything that happens gets “fixed.” Tim gets shot through the throat? Eh he’ll be fine, he can walk it off and be up and running within an issue or two. Bruce starts acting erratic/insane (again)? Oh don’t worry it’s not actually Bruce it’s his alternate personality Zur-En-Arrh. Which, side note, is the stupidest fucking name/concept I’ve seen in a while, truly baffling.

Honestly, the only part of the run that I’ve seen so far that’s even a little bit interesting is Bruce literally changing Jason’s brain chemistry so that whenever adrenaline hits he has a fear response so bad it shuts him down. Let’s start off with, hey Bruce what the fuck? If he’s had a machine that can legitimately rewire a person’s brain in that way to make him incapable of killing, why in the world would you not use it on the rogues? And yes, I understand that some of them either don’t react to fear, embrace it, don’t care etc etc but if you have the technology to change their brain whos to say you can’t make that machine do whatever you want? It doesn’t have to be specifically fear. Maybe force their motor neurons to not respond whenever they experience an adrenaline rush so they physically cannot move and kill their prey. Moralistically, it’s not the most correct, obviously, but that’s just an example of an extreme. There’s a lot more acceptable things it could be used for and Batman never does. Having that as a plot point makes no sense logically when applying it to Bruce in any way. Even though he’s been written as straight up brain dead these last few years based on his decisions, Bruce is a very smart man and could absolutely find both a morally correct and smart/safe option using the machine. It doesn’t even make sense for him to have it seeing as he would have used it already and cut down on about half of his Gotham related problems. “Oh, but red! That would mean that we’d have to get rid of the Joker because the machine would have taken care of him.” GOOD, I’m sick of his ass, there are so many better rogues to pick from as a new arch enemy. The Joker is bland, predictable, and I could not give less of a fuck about him, he’s not compelling in any way.

Secondly, as fucked up as it is it could actually (unfortunately, I don’t like giving them any credit nowadays) be an insanely good way to kill off Jason and make it stick. Or, at least I think they should make it stick because again, actions have consequences and comics need to go back to that. Anyways, to sum it up it would most likely send Jason into cardiac arrest. The sympathetic nervous system (SNS) controls both the adrenaline and fear responses the machine would be “regulating.” The SNS triggers the fight/flight response and sends epinephrine (adrenaline) throughout the body, elevating heart rate and blood pressure. As soon as higher levels of epinephrine are produced the machine will kick on the fear response to “suppress” this, but instead of shutting off the flow of epinephrine and/or producing acetylcholine to lower heart rate, when the fear response is kicked into motion even more epinephrine will flood the system. It becomes a never ending cycle fueling itself, never ending fear. Your heart working that hard and fast for such an extended period of time would absolutely give out on you.

Personally, I think that would be an insane wake up call to everyone but for this he would need to stay dead and to stay dead for a while. As in several years at least. As stated earlier, long term consequences do not exist in DC (or at least Batman) comics anymore, everything gets turned around with not great writing or retconned or generally not accepted as canon. But a death like this would mean something. It wouldn’t just be death for shock value, it would be Jason Todd, one of Batman’s alleged greatest mistakes being put down like a dog and Bruce having to live with it. How would Bruce’s morals shift and change because of his death? Would he reconsider how he deals with rogues, would he retire, would he leave? How would his children react and retaliate? How would the rogues react seeing Batman inadvertently cause the death of his child in his pursuit of Justice?

The effect of Jason’s death was extremely significant on many characters and their development the first time it occurred, would it be more or less so this time? So many routes to pursue, it’s a horrifying concept when you think about how it would actually affect Jason which is why they’re never going to do anything about it. If you’re going to use a character death as a plot point it has to actually mean something, not a mindless death that’ll be cured quickly and with an incredibly inane line of “I’ve had practice dying.” Wow, you’re so original. I’m pretty sure I read that in some b-rated fic by a 14 year old two years ago. Also, maybe stop acting like Jason is the only one who has died and that he’s the most special because of it? Outside of Tim (because he’s never legit died in canon, only offshoots) practically everyone else in the family has died at one point. His personality is not just his death. It’s irritating and it’s poor writing.

TLDR: I’m right, DC’s wrong and their writing is shit. If Jason dies it needs to have an actual literary purpose and it needs to stick for it to mean anything.

#jason todd dc #jason red hood #jason todd red hood #jason todd robin #jason todd #red hood comics #red hood dc #red hood #bruce wayne #bruce wayne batman #the batman #batman comics #batman #batman 148 #failsafe

[wingsdippedingold]

I need Anti Eluciens who complain about Elain and Lucien not even liking each other to remember 2 things

“Enemies” to lovers is SJMs bread and butter, she did it with literally every fucking couple she’s written. Them not liking each other now, which isn’t even dislike it’s just dislike of the bond and distance, means nothing to SJM when we see what went down between Feysand and Nessian. There’s an argument of there being less “tension” but that’s not necessarily true, we just haven’t seen them as much. You mean to tell me fighting an entire mate bond is not tension?

THATS THE POINT OF A ROMANCE BOOK??? TO FALL IN LOVE??? THATS WHAT THE WHOLE ARC IS???? NOT TOGETHER -> TOGETHER???? No shit they aren’t into each other yet, it makes no sense for their romance plot to start before a book that’s about them. If they already show signs of interest before a book that focuses on them, it dilutes their romance, unless SJM can think of new random conflict for them like Nessian, but with their personalities I doubt it would have held out.

#elucien #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #pro elain #elain archeron #pro lucien #anti elriel

[andypantsx3]

do you have any tips or advice for being more confident about your writing / avoiding the comparison trap on here? /gen

Hello my love!! Oh my gosh, I have a zillion and one thoughts on this subject. Please excuse how disorganized this is but I am so happy to word vom at you lmao.

I think to start with, it depends on what you're comparing: whether it's the work itself or the metrics surrounding it! I will start with the work itself, and move on to talking about metrics if that's cool.

Your Story

In terms of the quality of your work, there are a couple key things to remember!! Firstly, think it's easy to feel like so many tropes and story lines have already been done, why would anyone want to read mine? But you can circumvent this quite intentionally in your writing by thinking about what new thing you can bring to that trope or story line. And make no mistake, there is always something new, whether it's a plot twist, a unique motivator, a different character's perspective, etc.

For example, I've read and loved several merman Shouto fics, and I also wanted to write a merman Shouto fic. In the development of something in the water, I sat down and thought about what things I'd read about merman Shouto before, and how could I add to that, outside of rehashing what I'd already read. I discovered I wanted to expand on mating rituals, spend some time on the cultural differences a human and merman would inevitably have, and linger in the feeling of a tropical island because at the time of the fic's conception it was like, the dead of my winter LOL. And I do think that something in the water has turned out pretty distinct for that effort; as far as I am aware no one has written merman Shouto being wheeled into a tropical bungalow in a wheelbarrow to watch The Little Mermaid lol.

So you can always bring something new to the table! And it will make your work feel standout to you, as well, as you will be very aware of all the things you did that were unique!! You will not feel like you're just rehashing something that has already been done, you will feel like you're adding!

Also in terms of quality, I think it's helpful to look at fic writing like a growth opportunity rather than a permanent, established skill set. The "quality" of your style is not fixed, it something you actively develop by reading, digging into other people's styles, seeing how they make their writing work, and trying out some of those elements for yourself. Maybe someone has a really rich descriptive style that you find beautiful, maybe someone writes dark psychological fics that thrill you; if you spend time looking at the words they are using and how they use them, you can replicate those techniques in your own writing. You can quite literally make your own writing look more like the writing you admire by reverse engineering authors' techniques.

Conversely, writing as a growth opportunity mean you do not have to be perfect. The process of writing is the process of figuring out what works, mechanically. It's not a reflection on you at all. You don't have to write anything "good," you can publish something you had fun with, see what people react positively to in it, and turn around and take those elements forward in your next story, while abandoning the things people maybe did not love or had questions on. And rinse and repeat over and over until you do end up with something you'd term "quality."

To me at least, that thought is a huge relief. Because I can just have fun, let people say what they say, and do something different in my next story if needs must. It's like any skill set, I think. It takes time to hone but no one would call, like, Van Gogh untalented because he once started with rough and heavy pencil sketches, right?

It's the knowledge that I'm building up my future self's skill set that gives me confidence to publish, even if I'm not quite where I want to be currently! And I really hope this helps you the way it does me; the knowledge that you can do anything, write like anyone, but that it's all part of an overarching process to learn to enjoy writing like you!

Which brings me to:

The Metrics

I am just going to say flat out that you should try to ignore metrics as best you can. In my experience, metrics are absolutely no indicator of a work's quality. Some of the work I am proudest of is what anyone would consider a "flop" by note count, whereas I think some of my most trite & banal works would be considered by some metric quite "popular." And I think that way about some of my favorite fics too, one of my absolute fave fics of all time only recently broke 100 kudos on ao3 after being up for years!!

I especially think this is true on tumblr, where a work's packaging and digestibility seem to be the key elements in gaining notes (ao3 does not allow the same level of customization). Fics with elaborate headers, cute & small fonts (I am guilty of loving these), and eye-catching graphics all naturally draw attention more easily in the sea of other fics, so it makes sense why more people would tend to look at those, and subsequently like or reblog them. I also think bullet-pointed headcanons or single/short paragraph works tend to skyrocket in notes here because they're quick and easy; and that makes sense too, right? If it's easier to read of course it's likelier to be read more!

But those things mean absolutely nothing about the quality of the work within. And you can take reassurance from the fact that you too can replicate those elements if note count is what you are truly after here! You can make a video header with any of the premades on Canva! You can try different font arrangements or cool graphics. You can even write a paragraph and tag it with a bunch of different characters for maximum exposure. There is no reason to get jealous, I think, if you can do it too!!

I also think you have to be conscious of different factors at play with authors. Some authors have been around since the inception of the fandom you're in, and naturally will have had more visibility for longer than you, but that also says nothing about the quality of their work. I've been around in the BNHA fandom for four years, and by a mixture of luck and timing ended up getting to publish a lot of my work during the pandemic when more people than ever were getting into BNHA. But does that make me better than some of the newer authors joining the fandom just now? HELL no lol, if anything maybe I could be getting complacent!

And this goes for the size of fandoms and the popularity of certain characters as well!! A Shouto fic is not going to do as well as a Bakugou fic because Bakugou has like, three times the stans. A Shinsou fic is not going to do as well as a Shouto fic because Shouto has like, five times the stans lol. And a Kaiju no. 8 fic is not going to do as well as a JJK fic because the fandom size (and therefore potential audience pool) has a significant discrepancy! Don't gauge your fic's success against someone else's in a different fandom or for a different character (or honestly even at a different point in the source material's storyline because sometimes a character has a moment where they are most popular but that drops off - think BNHA Hawks in 2020/2021 vs now lol).

There is a huge variety of external factors at play that determine your exposure and audience, but absolutely none of those can ever say anything about the quality of your work. So I hope you can try to distance yourself from the need to compare your metrics to anyone else's, because quite frankly they do not mean shit.

TLDR, think the best way to overcome the comparison trap is to write a story you love and feel is unique, something you are proud of. Because no one is ever going to tell a story quite how you would, and therefore no one can ever be compared. & I hope this was helpful and addressed whatever specific area of concern you have!! But let me know if not and I'm happy to discuss more!!

#ask andie

[pumpkinmetaphor]

Ouran, Performance, Audience

Okay I said I was going to write this and I can't look at it anymore so posting. Anyway, performance in Ouran is interesting and we’ve all been chatting about it lately. Each character puts on an “act” for the guests, each character puts on another “act” for the people around them. It’s a testament to how well the characters are written that we can unravel these performances throughout the text. I still think there’s several levels of reading the characters and the text as well. 

Ouran is satire- hence why they’re essentially parodying these archetypes. But Ouran is also self-aware, self-referential, and meta. Characters break the fourth wall. They’re, at varying levels, aware of being in a story. We have characters who obviously break the fourth wall (Kyoya looking right into the camera in episode 1, for example. I would say Tamaki’s “homosexual supporting cast” speech, except it’s kind of an anomaly for him) and characters who are resistant to any sort of self-reflection that might lead them to any sort of conclusions like this (Hikaru.) I will at one point go through the entire manga again and count how many times each character narrates– which, to my recollection, is uncommon outside of Haruhi (MC obvs, and framed as talking to her mother) and Kaoru (framed as talking to himself/ the audience/ Hikaru-that-lives-in-his-brain) but I could be misremembering.

This is generally played for comedic effect. Tamaki breaks the fourth wall when it’s funny. Kyoya plays dumb about plot conventions (such as “we have birthdays here?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”) when it’s funny for him to do so. 

Anyway that’s just my setup. I want to discuss the Paris Arc, specifically whatever is going on with Kaoru. 

Read More because this is 2k words.

Kaoru is an interesting character because I think the performance is a little more pronounced. There’s reason to interpret he generally controls the scripts, his host club act is a bigger deviation from his natural personality, and fundamentally, as a person, Kaoru is less solid in his sense of identity. 

Which does kind of beg a question. The version of Kaoru the host club girls get is clearly fake. But the Kaoru most people get is some form of a mask. Kaoru reflects Hikaru– which is what Hikaru needs until Kaoru fears he doesn’t. Kaoru seems to take Haruhi’s assertion that he’s the “less evil one” to heart. I think neither Hikaru or Kaoru know what Haruhi is going to say is the difference between them in Episode/Chapter 5 because they themselves don’t know– aside from this very philosophical “well the one who is you is the one who is not me and the one who is not you is me etc.”

Anyway, we all kind of understand the general baseline– Hikaru is going to grow up, fall in love, and spread his wings– Kaoru is afraid this means Hikaru will leave him behind. This is the plot. 

But I think a lot of this comes down to “the thing they won’t be able to share,” which is presented to us in the form of that cookie. Haruhi notes that Kaoru will just give whatever it is to Hikaru. Hikaru ultimately snaps the cookie in half and forces Kaoru to take half of it anyway. This kind of embodies the fundamental difference between them, in my book. 

(Ch. 45, various spliced together pages) Hikaru: It is literally not on Hikaru’s radar that there might ever be anything that he and Kaoru do not share. He does not conceive this on any level before the Paris Arc. Kaoru will literally always be here, he is a constant that Hikaru cannot conceive losing. Hikaru’s not afraid of Kaoru abandoning him– he may be, afraid something will happen to Kaoru that will take him away, but he’s not afraid of Kaoru choosing to leave. Why would he? Kaoru is the one person who cannot betray him. 

Kaoru: It is a given that Hikaru will one day leave. It is simply the only way. Hikaru will grow up and, for various reasons, Kaoru will not grow with him. And Hikaru will choose to leave– this will not be a betrayal, it’s just how life works when you’re not the main character in your story. Your carriage turns back into a grubby ole pumpkin and you’re left all alone. 

After the cookie scene, Kaoru tells Hani that he has feelings for Haruhi. This is, in my opinion, when Kaoru takes the reins of the narrative. Of the carriage, so to speak. The carriage in the anime exists on the condition that no one acknowledges that they’re in a love story and “breaks” the found family. Kaoru saying he’s in love with Haruhi steers the narrative on the course to the inevitable. 

Which is great!

Except is Kaoru in love with Haruhi? 

My hypothesis: it literally doesn’t matter. Kaoru’s feelings for Haruhi do not drive the narrative. Kaoru talking about it does. He could be lying. He could be mistaken. He could be genuinely in love with her. It could be an idle crush. It doesn’t matter. It’s the performance of this love for the appropriate audience (aka: Hani, Hikaru etc.) that matters.

I think the base reading of this arc is that the cookie is Haruhi. Haruhi is the one thing they can’t share, right? They can’t like, keep eating biscuits out of her mouth and licking her face if Hikaru wants her to be his girlfriend and Kaoru wants her too. While I don’t think it’s incorrect to read this as a concern Kaoru has, I don’t think it gets to the heart of the issue. 

So, performance!

Kaoru puts on his little act for Hikaru throughout the Paris Arc. Generally tormenting him, ostracising him. In a way giving him a taste of what Kaoru goes through in a zillion Hika/Haru fanfictions or Kaoru’s own nightmares. This culminates in the date, where Kaoru basically brings Haruhi on the date he asked her on first (before giving it to Hikaru) and hitting every single mark that Hikaru missed. Not that anyone is enjoying themselves regardless to be honest. 

And of course, at the end, he kisses her and Hikaru sees and runs off upset. 

Except we, the audience, know Kaoru kisses Haruhi on the cheek. It’s a clear enough stage kiss from the art. Just close enough for us to understand that, from Hikaru’s perspective, Kaoru kissed her on the mouth. We’re bystanders, watching this plot unfold. Hikaru is Kaoru’s intended audience– that’s who he’s performing for. 

So what’s the difference then between this scene.

And this scene?

Well, first: what else can be the one thing Hikaru and Kaoru can’t share? If you go one level further, I think you come to the conclusion that Hikaru is the one thing they can’t share. After all, Hikaru cannot keep giving half of himself, half of his time, energy, love, self etc. to Kaoru all the time, and grow up. They suffer a classic case of enmeshment. Kaoru determines that Hikaru needs to be shoved out of the nest– and that the only way to do that is to stab him in the back. 

I don’t think Kaoru is trying to make Hikaru hate him. I do think what he’s trying to do is make Hikaru realise that he’s a person? Who is capable of betraying him, just like any other person. As long as Hikaru believes that Kaoru is “the only person he can trust,” he’s never going to grow up. By knocking himself off that pedestal in Hikaru’s eyes, Hikaru is forced to see him differently and Kaoru is prepared to accept however Hikaru might feel about him in the aftermath (though assuming he’ll drastically distance himself). 

(Side note. I think Hikaru and Kaoru internalise their maid-related-trauma slightly differently. While Kaoru’s fear is abandonment, Hikaru’s fear is betrayal. They just manifest similarly because there’s a lot of crossover. This is sooo long already, I’m not getting into it unless someone asks lmao.)

Loop back to the image again then. What’s the difference here? Well, it’s still a stage kiss! They both are. But, with one fundamental difference. 

Image one, Hikaru is Kaoru’s audience. He is performing to trick Hikaru (and possibly anyone else, like Hani and Mori, watching). But reality is clear to us, the reader.

Image two, you are Kaoru’s audience. He is performing to trick you. (but reality is clear to Hikaru, the participant)

Like, that’s pretty in your face huh? Faces obscured in a way that you don’t infer it as a cheek kiss as easily as you do with Kaoru and Haruhi. It’s also on the left page of the physical edition, meaning you have to skip to the next page to see the aftermath:

Kaoru’s not just tricking the audience. He’s queerbaiting the audience. Typical.

Firstly, I do think one can be led to the conclusion that if the one thing they can’t share is Hikaru, not Haruhi, that means Kaoru is not in love with Haruhi but is in love with Hikaru. In fact, I think that’s kind of the point with these panels. It’s framed as a bait-switch, which only works if the audience misinterprets the kiss. My ultimate conclusion therefore is that there is no textual romantic incest occuring. It is enmeshment at a bare minimum though. But that's another topic, another day, for somebody else.

Secondly, I think this is because the audience is, regardless, on the wrong track. Or at least not the full track. We have access to the narrative when other characters don’t, but we’re still reading the story Kaoru is telling. We’re still the audience to his performance of the story. It’s easier for Kaoru to tell a story that’s all about his brother– he’s been doing it his whole life. He’s not the main character, after all. So he’s telling us a story where the one thing they cannot share is Hikaru, telling all the other characters a story where the one thing they can’t share is Haruhi. 

So the one thing they can’t share is something more nebulous. It’s the identity. 

Which feels like a contradiction in a way, because the identity is Hikaru, isn't it?

They can’t be one double act, split down the middle. They can’t be one seed sprouting two leaves. They can’t be two halves of one cookie, or two halves of one soul. And the problem is, Kaoru views everything as something Hikaru has split down the middle and shared with him– and now he has to give it all back. 

I don’t really think Hikaru views “their room” as being “his room, that I share with Kaoru.” But I think Kaoru does. I think Kaoru views everything as something Hikaru has shared with him, right down to his own personality, his own face. Hikaru cannot leave, cannot grow up, unless Kaoru stops pretending to be him and gives him the half of his identity back to make one whole, true Hikaru. 

Only problem is, Kaoru has to cut that tricky spare leaf off. After all, when he gives Hikaru back the identity, Kaoru won’t have one. Kaoru is defined as being “the one who is not Hikaru.” My brother is Hikaru. The one who is not my brother is me. And how do you define that? When your brother is no longer there, who are you? 

That’s why it’s important that Hikaru dyes his hair. Because I don’t think him dyeing his hair matters if the issue is Haruhi (Haruhi can tell them apart anyway). I don’t think it matters if the issue is Hikaru (this would not, in isolation, fix Kaoru's thought process). 

It is however enough for Hikaru to be able to illustrate to Kaoru that their identity is inherently interwoven, not necessarily shared. It doesn’t matter if Kaoru is the same as Hikaru or not– because Kaoru is who he is. That may have been affected by the fact that they’re twins, but his identity is not negated by it. Kaoru's identity is not inherently a performance just because it reflects Hikaru, and he doesn't lose it when he ceases to reflect Hikaru.

(breathes)

CAVEAT AS ALWAYS: I am reading the English translation. While it is the official Viz Media translation, something is always changed in translation, localisation, and interpretation. With the assumption that everyone here is reading the manga in English (sweeping assumption, sorry) this is therefore a reading of the text inherently coloured by the site of circulation (English translation, volume compiled) and the site of audiencing: aka the fact that I am an English-speaking, European, media studies/animation academic, speaking on an largely American blogging platform to the like, twelve Kaoru stans that follow me. It also means your interpretation may be very different to mine! Anyway If you read this far, congrats! You deserve a cookie– whatever that might or might not signify.

#i'm haruhi. #kaoru hitachiin #ouran high school host club #anyway sorry if that was me talking shit or me talking about something v basic i can no longer tell #/incest mention #i don't even know if this is coherent anymore

[charcoaleyes-and-monroehips]

Neither of them said a word. Daryl didn't know any words at that precise moment. Other than maybe blue. They looked at one another, as if they were searching one another's faces, trying to read the story of their lives for the past 12 months. Rick looked a little plumper around the face, a little better-fed now he wasn't a cop anymore. Rick leant an arm out of the car window, tilting his head back and giving a slight smile at Daryl as he sucked deep on his cigarette. Daryl smiled back, tucking tendrils of greasy hair behind his ears and letting the cigarette dangle from between his lips as he reached across the gearstick to poke Rick solidly in the thigh.

"Ya smokin' now, then?"

Rick shrugged.

"Something about the smell of it... " was all he offered, and then he laughed, and Daryl tried and failed to suppress a chuckle, and Rick finally started the damn car and then they were driving.

I dunno if I will ever actually write ALL of the sequel to Dead Wishes, but hey, here’s a bit of the chapter and a half I have done so far, anyway.

#i mean i have a plot... i just need it to be written down #dead wishes #the walking dead fic #Rick Grimes #daryl dixon #rickyl

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt) #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

[jjunieworld]

don’t delete the kisses ｡ﾟ🎶 ⋆₊

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, ex-bestfriends to lovers, ex bff!beomgyu, musician!beomgyu, mutual (unknown) pining, fluff if you squint, non-idol!au, alcohol/drinking

synopsis: two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local city; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.

warnings: tipsy sex (consensual), soft sex basically, lots of yearning, unprotected sex (wrap it then tap it), oral (f. rec), kinda service top!beomgyu, slight overstimulation (m. rec), beomgyu is really just catering to y/n, some hair pulling (m. rec), multiple orgasms, creampie, petnames (baby), aftercare

word count: 9.3k┊v-day event masterlist┊masterlist

a/n: based off don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice and part three of my v-day event! i didn’t mean for this to be 9.3k omg. be glad i didn’t have the party hosted by jackson wang lmao.. sorry if the lyrics are kinda bad i am nawt a songwriter (there’s no like certain tune to them so reading them regularly is fine)! this beomgyu is the one i was imagining in this (he’s sooo fucking pretty). i hope you enjoy! ♡

two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu.

it was a jarring realization; realizing that you’ve been harboring these slowly growing feelings for him all this time. it was as if one day the house was empty and the next all of the furniture and decorations were displayed and put up. like beomgyu had lived in the recesses of your mind all this time and you’ve never even known.

your acceptance was gradual, mainly because you had buried yourself in your studies along with beomgyu so you didn’t spend as much time together as you both would have wanted. he was studying music, his passion since before you’ve even known him, and you were studying writing. beomgyu was working on his debut ep and you were working on your debut novel.

you had noticed it when you started to realize how much the love interest in your novel reminded you of him. and then how much of your love interest actually was beomgyu, down to similarities in their physical description. it was a moment that beomgyu himself was present for, surprisingly.

beomgyu was sitting on your couch, strumming chords lightly and humming softly to himself as he polished up one of the songs he was writing. you were in the corner of the room at your desk, proofreading the chapter you had just written. a gasp had left your lips as you stared wide eyed at the bright white screen in front of you.

the strumming abruptly stopped as beomgyu turned to you, “what is it?” you bit down on your bottom lip as you read the paragraph over and over again. you saw him shift in the corner of your eye and knew he was about to come and see for himself. quickly, you changed the tab to the one that held your outline. “it’s nothing,” you turned, smiling over at him. “just realized that i accidentally created a huge plot hole…” beomgyu chuckled before returning back to his song.

that night, you had read over everything you’ve written so far in a flurry. beomgyu was everywhere in your novel. from the main character to the side characters to the love interest. there was no escaping him.

“shit,” you muttered as you trailed a hand down your face, throwing your laptop onto your bed as you got up to get a drink from the kitchen. tiptoeing past beomgyu’s room in your shared apartment, you reached the kitchen quietly, hopeful that you didn’t somehow wake him.

turns out that was pointless since beomgyu was leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you. you jumped and threw a hand against your chest. “why aren’t you asleep?!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was no need since it was only the two of you in the apartment. beomgyu grinned, putting the cup he was holding to his lips, “why aren’t you?” he spoke softly as well and you walked over to join him.

beomgyu shined hazily in the orange stove light and you took a sip from the glass of alcohol you poured as you looked at him. the two of you stood there for a moment, quietly taking in each other’s presence.

“so why are you awake? it’s almost four in the morning,” beomgyu asked quietly as he broke the silence. you looked towards the living room and took another sip from your glass. “i was proofreading… you?” you asked, looking back to him. “songwriting,” beomgyu responded. you hummed, nodding a little. “wanna hear what i have so far?” he then asked. you nodded more and he led you to his room.

beomgyu’s laptop was open on his bed, all kinds of cords connected to it. his guitar was strewn across it, like he had tossed it on his bed haphazardly in frustration. beomgyu picked the guitar up and sat it back on it’s stand near the wall. sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him so you could join. then, he put the headphones over your head and pressed play on his laptop.

music traveled through your ears. it was just the instrumental, but already you could tell how beautiful the song was gonna be. you looked over at him, a proud smile on your face when suddenly you heard his voice. it was only soft background vocals, the ones that you could barely make out, but it sounded heavenly. when the music ended, your smile stretched from ear to ear and you raised your hands to cover it. “that was beautiful, beomgyu! seriously!”

he gave you an unsure look, “is it? i’m not really sure about it. i feel like it might mess with the flow of the ep…” you shook your head rapidly, the headphones almost coming off. “no you have to keep it, it’s amazing! it’s gonna be even better once you add your voice.”

beomgyu beamed as he took in your words. “i gotta hear it again,” you grinned, pressing play on the laptop. you faintly heard beomgyu’s laugh behind the music.

you would give anything for all of your nights—or early mornings—to be exactly like this. the two of you here together, side by side. laughing together and sharing your passions together. to stay with beomgyu until the very end.

two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends.

just like you admitting and realizing your feelings for him, it was sudden. as sudden as storm clouds slowly passing over the sky and the fury of rain could be. it was late morning and the two of you were on your couch; beomgyu’s guitar in his lap and you sitting next to him as he strummed. he was playing one of the finished songs he had written, the one he had written for you. beomgyu had called it ‘graze.’

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” you sung the lyrics together. beomgyu smiled warmly at you.

beomgyu had given you some insight into the lyrics he had written. the first part, “her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss,” was about the day you had first spoken. it was senior year of highschool and the two of you were paired together on a project. you were meeting somewhere to work on it, but you accidentally walked past the meeting place, completely passing by beomgyu unaware.

the next part, “when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” is when the two of you had gotten close; close enough to share secrets and comfort each other through the thoughts they consumed. everytime the two of you texted, you would end the conversation off with an ‘xxx.’ kisses. it had become your thing with beomgyu, so much so that he wrote it into his song.

when the song had ended, beomgyu suddenly perked up. “let me show you the song i’ve been working on! the one i showed you the other day,” he exclaimed. he started strumming chords, humming softly as he began the song. “i only have, like, one lyric for it right now,” he interjected as he continued strumming.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind…” beomgyu sang to the tune of his guitar. your smile faltered, but you managed to put it back in tact as beomgyu glanced up from his guitar to ask for your opinion. it was a love song he was writing. a love song for someone that wasn’t you.

“it’s beautiful, like all of your songs are. i like the new addition! how long have you been working on it?” you smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. beomgyu began to blush as he turned to set his guitar aside, moving his hair over his ears. the tips of them were red. “for a little bit now. i just can’t seem to find the words of the feelings i want to convey,” he replied.

your glass heart shattered, it’s pieces making its way into your bloodstream. piercing pieces dug into beomgyu’s skin. “who’s the lucky person?” you asked, swallowing hard. he turned back to you and smirked. “just someone i’ve known for a while... i think we’re really starting to hit it off!”

after that day, you started to distance yourself from beomgyu. at first, it was only your feelings. limiting the amount of times you touched in any way or adding space between your bodies when you were near each other. then, it was almost as if the two of you were strangers living in the same place.

beomgyu had definitely noticed. you could feel his lingering look at the back of your neck. hear his questions in the air that hangs between you. but your feelings just wouldn’t go away. maybe they were right when they said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you locked yourself in your room, working on and rewriting your book over and over again. trying—and failing horribly—to remove beomgyu from the caverns of it. nothing worked, but you were desperate.

one day, beomgyu was playing his guitar a little too loud while you were in your room writing. usually, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. beomgyu always made sure not to be too noisy when you were writing, even though you always told him how much it helped you to have the background music. but this time, this time was different.

you were frustrated, agitated, still deep in love, and still deep in the great unreciprocated. you had flung your door open and stormed into the living room where he was playing and yelled at him to stop.

beomgyu looked up at you with wide, shocked eyes. it was dead silent for a moment, not even the sound of your breathing was heard. too late you realized what you had done. silently, beomgyu collected his things and made his way to his room, not sparing you a single glance or even a murmur. you watched him, an apology, an excuse on your lips.

the next day after you came home from researching at the library, you found a single note from him that was left on the kitchen counter. “i can’t live here with a stranger anymore,” was all it said. finally, you noticed how empty the apartment looked. how empty it looked for a while now. beomgyu was gone, and it was all your fault.

today, you could barely walk the streets of your city without seeing his face or hearing his music.

“UP AND COMING!” the article’s title had read as they delved into an interview with your former best friend. you pushed the laptop away, even after these two years apart you couldn’t face him. not even through a screen. couldn’t face how you tore your friendship apart because you couldn’t control your own feelings. maybe love just wasn’t meant for you.

you heard a sigh from next to you. “just read it!” your friend, yeonjun, drawled. “you’re mentioned.” you let out a sigh yourself with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the laptop. “if i’m mentioned, it’s not gonna be something good.”

you scrolled down the article until you got to the part where beomgyu got interviewed. most of the questions were about his debut album and upcoming tour. you haven’t listened to any of his songs since he released his ep. hearing his voice was just too much. your eyes stopped on a question that mentioned one of the songs from his debut ep; your song.

Q. one of your more, if not most, popular song is a song called ‘graze.’ can you give us some input into what the song is about? how you came up with it? BEOMGYU: i actually had written the song for someone who i was very close to at the time. originally, the song was about the dynamics of our friendship. but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics. speaking of the lyrics, when i wrote the song i had come up with them first and the rest just kinda flowed after that. it was the first song that i had finished for my ep, and the one i was most proud of. i’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy the song!

you inhaled sharply at his answer. “but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics.” you weren’t expecting him to hold fondness for you after everything, after all this time, but his response did sting.

Q. you mentioned how the meaning of the song lyrics changed, does that tie into the title of the song? was ‘graze’ a double meaning this whole time? BEOMGYU: i guess you could say that! there wasn’t a double meaning at the beginning, but alas… to graze means to be scraped lightly in passing, to break the surface of the skin. but it also means to touch, to caress. to slightly damage or to gently touch.

Q. it also means to take in small quantities at frequent, did you know that? BEOMGYU: i didn’t! see how meanings can change!

blinking the tears brimming in the corner of your eyes away, you look back over to yeonjun. he looked at you with eyebrows raised and you shrugged at him. what did he want you to say? that you missed him? you did. that you wish things were different between the two of you? you do. what is that going to change?

“he mentioned the song he wrote! for you!” yeonjun exclaimed. you shrugged again, “he mentioned the song he wrote for someone he used to be close with. like he said, things change.” yeonjun groaned as he fell into the pillows on your bed.

shortly after beomgyu had moved out, you moved into a smaller, one bedroom apartment. it was eating away at you inside looking at how empty and lifeless your apartment you had shared with beomgyu looked. you couldn’t take how everywhere you looked, a memory of the two of you followed.

“he’s having a show at the arena downtown. we’re going,” yeonjun stated. your eyes widened and you furiously shook your head. “no… no i can’t.” two years and you crossed the street if there was a poster of him up next to the sidewalk. two years and you went everywhere with headphones, music blasting in your ears to cover his playing softly throughout the city. you couldn’t see him face to face. couldn’t watch as his smile faltered and his eyes lost their emotion as he looked at you.

yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets, “it’s too late, i already got the tickets. i can’t watch anymore as the two of you avoid each other. it’s been two years and not once have i seen the both of you in the same room let alone on the same block.” you put your face into your hands as you leaned over onto the bed, groaning loudly.

somehow you forgot that beomgyu and yeonjun were also friends. close friends at that. the two of them were friends before you and beomgyu were. you wanted to curse at the sky. “and don’t even try to find some way out of it either. i will drag you there kicking and screaming if i have to.” yeonjun added.

“but i have to finish writing my bo—“ you started before yeonjun swiftly cut you off. “it’s this weekend, so you have the whole week to prepare yourself.”

when you were alone that night in the comforting isolation of your bedroom, you let yourself scroll through your old messages with beomgyu. let your eyes wander over the ‘xxx’ at the end of your messages. you fingers moved on their own as they began typing out a message.

old apologies, old excuses. you had the nerve to add ‘xxx’ at the end like the two of you were still who you once used to be. you deleted the kisses at the end, deleted the message altogether. it’s not that you would ever send it anyways.

you thought about how your life would be if you and beomgyu weren’t strangers now. if you were more than best friends, getting to know each other again. you imagined late nights of you taking him out to bars in celebration of his new releases. pressing proud kisses to his lips as the alcohol and your love warmed the both of your bodies. shaking your head to yourself, you pushed the thoughts away. no use in daydreaming.

the damning beat of your heart got louder and louder the closer you and yeonjun got to the arena. the closer and closer you got to beomgyu. at the rate your heart was going, the sheer loudness would create a guilty beat for everyone to sing along to.

you handed in your tickets and made your way to the floor. when you read the tickets and saw that they were for the floor, you almost killed yeonjun. you thought you could be sly and sit somewhere in the seats, somewhere where beomgyu wouldn’t have a high possibility of seeing you. you were wrong.

yeonjun grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to the stage. when he tried to pull you right up against the barricade, you pulled away from him and he sighed. the two of you settled close to the stage, but not so close that you’d be touching noses with beomgyu. a compromise.

the lights had dimmed and the crowd had filed in until it was jam packed in the arena. your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride. he did it, he really did. he achieved the one thing he wanted the most, and you couldn’t be prouder of him for it.

the band came on stage and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams from all around you. you looked over to yeonjun, who was cheering along with them. you laughed, the sound being covered, but still there nonetheless. everything only got louder when beomgyu stepped onto the stage. you swear the girl next to you almost passed out.

when you saw him, the spotlight illuminating him—making him look like all of the stars in the sky, it was as if it was only the two of you in the room. the crowd of people around you faded and your breath hitched when he started to look over the crowd with a big warm smile. your face heated and you looked away, hiding so he wouldn’t see you. it’s been a while since you’ve done that.

what were you doing here? what was yeonjun thinking? that he would see you in the crowd and everything would fall into place? that he would call your name and the crowd would part as you made your way to the stage? that he’d take your hand and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of the whole world to see? what a stupid thought.

you wanted to leave but you were trapped from all sides. beomgyu sat on the chair that was placed in the center of the stage, his one and only guitar on his knee that you’ve become so accustomed to. “how is everyone doing tonight? well, i hope!” he said, strumming the strings of his guitar lightly. the crowd erupted again, words barely audible.

shaking your head, you grabbed yeonjun’s arm. “i can't do this, yeonjun. i want to go home.” he turned to you with furrowed eyebrows of worry. the girl next to you gave you an ear to ear smile, “i know right? isn’t he just so dreamy!” in turn, you gave her a barely disguised grimace and turned back to yeonjun. yeonjun laughed at your reaction, “get over it! let him sing to you! we’re staying.” he turned back to the stage and you realized that beomgyu had already began playing a song.

not just any song, the song that he wrote for you. he was singing ‘graze.’ yeonjun smirked at you and you’ve realized you’ve fallen into his trap. vaguely, you remembered that beomgyu always started out his shows with the song he had written for you. you wanted to use his guitar to bash your head in.

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” beomgyu sang softly to the tune of his guitar. the live band behind him made the song more layered, in a way you haven’t heard since you’ve first heard the finished song.

“under newborn stars, we bear witness, we watched it all begin. i feel the heat of mars, my worn guitar, like her fingers against my skin,” beomgyu continued the song, the crowd singing along with him. you felt glassy tears in your eyes, threatening to fall. you couldn’t open your mouth to sing, not after all of the circumstances, so your heart sang for you. it was quiet, left only for the empty cathedrals of your ribs to echo back to you.

once he stopped singing, the music continued for a moment, letting everyone take in the song. beomgyu closed his eyes against the bright lights, his hands resting on the edge of his guitar. just as the song ended he opened them, an emotion you couldn’t quite make out in his eyes.

“now, for this next one, it took me a long time to write. two years in fact,” beomgyu spoke as he looked around at the crowd, a slight laugh in his tone. his eyes had just missed yours on his journey and you reeled back slightly in shock, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i just couldn’t seem to find the words to the feelings i wanted to convey. but luckily for you all, i managed to find them,” beomgyu smiled as he adjusted his guitar. “this one’s called ‘tattoos on strangers.’”

those words sounded strangely familiar. out of the corner of your eye, you saw yeonjun look over at you as the crowd cheered. you couldn’t even move to look back at him, to ask why he was staring. you were entirely focused on beomgyu. on the way he looked around the crowd with twinkling love in his eyes. the way he fiddled with his guitar like he was antsy to let the music flow out of him. it entranced you, dazzled you, entrapped you.

beomgyu inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the mic in front of him, as he strummed the chords of one of his songs you’ve never heard before. “we’re two moths to a burning flame; they call us icarus. now all that’s left between our bodies is the sinking bitterness. our eyes are on the sky, the lies we tell each other are to blame.” you gasped at how heavenly he sounded. at the melodic symphonies he was creating. at how familiar yet so unfamiliar the song sounded to you.

there was a beat as the live band picked up volume. “we’re waltzing together, we’ve gone too far. but we can’t help ourselves, we’re sinful, we’re brand new burning stars. gravity is starting to pull us closer and closer, you say it’s starting to lead to our demise. but don’t worry, baby, our silence—the heaviness between us, will be the disguise,” beomgyu continued. his eyes were squeezed shut as he sang. it made you wonder who he intended the song to be for if he was reacting this way.

“there’s no need to apologize, we’ve witnessed this before, i know your true name. like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain. too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind. don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time,” beomgyu sang as the song came to an end. suddenly it was as if a light switch lit up the dark room in your brain, a certain lyric ringing bells inside.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind,” you understood why the song sounded familiar to you. it was the song beomgyu was working on right before the two of you stopped being bestfriends. another thought hit you so hard that you stumbled back into the person behind you and yeonjun gave you another worried look. you stared back at him, eyes wide open.

two lyrics stood out to you, “like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain,” and “don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time.” you turned to look back up at beomgyu, just as he started singing another song. his eyes were traveling the crowd and at that moment, his eyes connected with yours. they widened and he started to blink rapidly for a second, like he couldn’t believe that you were looking at him.

at the same time, both of your eyes traveled to yeonjun, who in turn gave a sheepish smile. he set the two of you up. desperately you wanted to leave, but yeonjun’s hand around your wrist and the crowd wouldn’t let you.

‘graze’, you knew for a fact was for you, but ‘tattoos on strangers’? there was no denying that he wrote the song about you, down to the referencing lyrics. down to the “don’t delete the kisses at the end.” oh god, you thought, oh god. this whole time… this whole time, he was singing about you. he was singing about you when you thought he was singing about someone else and you ruined it. you ruined everything.

suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe with everyone around you and with beomgyu’s eyes on you. he tried hard to make it look like he wasn’t singling you out, but every couple seconds his eyes would lock on you again. you had no choice but to sit and endure. endure his stare, the slight wildness in his look. endure all the songs from his debut album that you never heard; all of which were about you. all of them. endure the way his heart called out to yours, echoing through his songs, and the way yours called back.

your eyes connect once more—just for the briefest of moments—before you looked away, shyness taking over. your face—no, your whole body—felt like it was on fire. just like a brand new burning star. you felt like all eyes were on you, when in reality all eyes were on him.

finally, you looked up again as he announced the last song in the setlist—‘forethought.’ your eyes meet just as he sings, his eyes only on you, “oh, i hear her voice in the wind sometimes. has she given me any thought? i go back to the pastimes—like wind chimes, it’s not all for naught. my wet knees in the winter, it’s my hopeful crime, it’s my savior... it’s my desperate prayer, i scream out her name into the dying nature—it leads me out the maze so i’m with her. it’s a stranded forethought.” you feel tears well up into your eyes and you see tears well up in beomgyu’s too, hidden by the bright lights to the crowd, but not to you. never to you.

after a moment, he repeats with eyes closed in a silent plea, “don’t linger, don’t linger, light bringer, don’t linger. stay with me—send me your remembrances. please, don’t delete those kisses. don’t linger, light bringer. don’t linger.” the tears fall freely from your eyes at the way his voice softly echoes. echoes just like wind chimes in the blowing wind. you feel yeonjun pull you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips.

you don’t register the concert ending, the crowd getting smaller and smaller until there’s only a few stragglers. you move numbly as yeonjun pulls you along behind him. it’s not until you hear a familiar voice, beomgyu’s voice, that you suddenly come back to life.

yeonjun has taken you backstage. the two of you were making your way over to where beomgyu was standing, talking to someone you didn’t recognize, as he packed up his guitar. again, your eyes met, and you pulled your wrist from yeonjun’s grasp. you turned, wild eyes scanning for an exit as your feet moved without needing your input. “y/n, wait!” you heard voices from behind you. you kept going, the fear pushing you forwards faster.

it wasn’t until you were in front of the night bus, voices behind you as you pushed whatever money you had into the bus driver's hands, that you finally felt like you could breathe. the doors closed and the bus began moving as beomgyu and yeonjun ran up waving frantically. the bus kept moving. you looked through the window, terrified wide eyes reflecting back to you in the glass, at their fading figures. at beomgyu’s dejected eyes and yeonjun’s sorrowful ones. at the breaking of your heart, once again.

sighing heavily to yourself, you faced the front of the bus. what has gotten into you? why would you let yourself think that beomgyu would wait for you after these two long years? it was clear to you that what happened at that concert was a goodbye. and maybe you were okay with that. maybe you didn’t mind. you wiped the tears from your cheeks. it’s okay, you’ve always worked better on your own anyways. without the constant tingling of growing feelings, without the heavy stares that hold so much, without the newborn stars—without beomgyu.

when you get home, you waste no time with the alcohol you have. turning your phone off, locking all your doors and shutting all the curtains. you lay on your bed, drunk out of your mind looking up at the ceiling as you think, what if love’s not meant for me?

five days ago, you went to your ex-bestfriend’s concert and listened as he poured his heart out onto the stage for you; while you ran away from him like the echo of a wind chime in the wind.

beomgyu has taken over your mind. has soared through the mountains of your thoughts and settled gently in the valleys of your desires. lingered in the lakes and puddles and the big vast ocean of your memories. all you’ve been thinking about since the concert was him. he’s completely consumed you.

you had scrolled up and down your messages together, laughing at old jokes and shedding tears at old memories. retelling the jokes he made to yourself and pretending that they were yours to begin with as a permanent smile etched itself onto your features.

maybe this all was a sign. a sign that you should stop hiding in the four walls of your bedroom. a sign that you should find some way to contact beomgyu, rekindle the friendship you once used to have and maybe fan the flames of something greater. you wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much you loved beomgyu. tell the whole world about how he makes you feel and every little thing he does that just fills you with so much warmth.

you were scrolling through the photo album you still had of the two of you. at your silly faces and candid moments. you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you wanted to. you felt like a teenage girl, giggling softly as she wrote her crushes name in hearts all over her notebooks. wide smile as she wrote in her diary about how much her crush rocked her world. you didn’t care, you couldn’t help it. beomgyu did—he really did—make you feel this way. he’s turned your whole world upside down.

electricity flowed through you until you were so antsy and electric that you just had to do something before it drove you insane. you needed to tell beomgyu, to let whatever was between the two of you happen. needed to have him around you again after these two long years, even if just briefly. god, you felt like such a romantic cliché, but you felt alive.

opening your phone, you finally replied to all of the messages that yeonjun had sent you. they spanned from worried to disappointed to a resigned sadness. you only sent him one message in response:

you: is he still here?

you held your breath, mentally smacking yourself for not looking up beomgyu’s tour dates beforehand. mentally smacking yourself for not garnering the courage earlier. how stupid you were. your phone dinged from yeonjun’s reply:

jjunie: party tonight at 11:30pm. i’ll pick you up around 11. be ready.

breathing out a sigh of relief you looked at the clock. it was already 10pm. you raided your closet for your best looking outfit, throwing it on as you ran to your bathroom to put makeup on. you wanted to look your absolute best.

11pm couldn’t come fast enough. you were waiting by the door when yeonjun had knocked, him barely getting his second knock in before you flung the door wide open. “is it too late?” you asked him desperately, standing limply in the doorframe. yeonjun just chuckled at you and grabbed your wrist, leading you to his car, “never. not for the two of you.”

on the way over, yeonjun told you how the party was thrown by some big celebrity you never heard of and how beomgyu got the two of you invites. it was for such a good start on his sold out tour and debut album. “like, everyone is gonna be there,” yeonjun said to you as he drove around to find a parking space.

once you found somewhere to park, you and yeonjun made your way to the venue where the party was being held. you passed through all kinds of security until you were faced with blasting music in your ears and bodies dancing everywhere. holding tightly onto yeonjun to not get lost, the two of you scanned the crowd.

“do you want to get a drink?” yeonjun yelled over the music to you. you nodded and he led you through the crowd to where the bar was. the two of you got something and drank them silently by the bar. you felt bad for keeping yeonjun tied to you, so you yelled over the music to him, “you can go and mingle! i’ll be fine over here by myself!” he leaned towards you, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?” he asked and you nodded.

yeonjun made his way through the crowd, turning his charm on as he talked to various people. you stayed at the bar, sipping on various drinks until you felt very tipsy. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for beomgyu, every minute or so.

that’s when you saw him. he was across the room, holding a glass of something and talking to a group of people, when his eyes drifted and just happened to meet yours. beomgyu rendered you completely speechless. you got a good look at him, not being able to do so that well from his place on the stage, and took in how much he’s changed in the past two years.

beomgyu’s short brown hair was now dark, tinged blue in the low scattered overhead lights. the back of it touched the nape of his neck and the front fell over his eyes and ears. he looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful than you remember him being. his eyes widened at seeing you, making the natural liner of his eyes stand out.

suddenly, just like at the concert, it felt like it was only the two of you in the room. his eyes widened at seeing you again, his mouth opening slightly. without knowing it, the two of you gravitated towards each other. then you were face to face, standing in front of each other in the flesh. you couldn’t believe it.

you both said each other’s names at the same time, letting out a nervous laugh after. he motioned for you to continue and you swallowed hard. you were thankful that you were tipsy, that the alcohol was smoothing your nerves, because you definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of beomgyu right now if you weren’t.

“beomie…” you trailed before correcting yourself, you didn’t want to pretend to know him like you use to after two years. “beomgyu… there’s no excuse. no apology even sincere enough—“ beomgyu had cut you off, “y/nie, you don’t have to apologize.”

you shook your head. you knew that you didn’t, that he had already forgiven you and moved past it. hell, he wrote a song about it. but you had to. you had to apologize in at least some way. “no, i do,” you stated. “i shouldn’t have let us drift away, shouldn’t have let us become strangers. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. you were my bestfriend and i was scared. i like you so much, so much that you enveloped me completely. my mind, my book, my life… everything.”

you inhaled deeply, looking longingly into beomgyu’s eyes like you had wanted to do now for so long. “all i thought about was you. all i think about is you. and i miss you. i missed you so much, beomgyu. i love you. i’ve always loved you—“ beomgyu sat his glass on the nearby table as you spoke, then cupped your face gently with both of his hands and collided his lips to yours in a passionate kiss to cut you off. it told you everything he was feeling, everything he’s felt for you for who knows how long now. you felt his song lyrics on your lips. felt how every last lyric was written for you, every melody. every atom of your being colliding with every atom of his and creating a beautiful newborn star.

when he pulled away, he pulled you into a desperate and tight hug. he held you so tight it was as if he thought you were a bird that would fly away. you couldn’t blame him, you kind of were. “i don’t think i need to tell you how much i love you, but i will. i’ll sing it in your ear softly and scream it at the top of my lungs for all the stars to witness, y/n. i love you,” beomgyu murmured into the crook of your neck.

you took his hand and led him out the venue. when you suddenly remembered that yeonjun took you here, beomgyu chuckled as he took you to his car. in the warm glow of your city at night, you pointed to various street signs and turns as beomgyu drove to your apartment.

inside your apartment, the two of you couldn’t keep your mouths off each other. the wanting—the need—lifting you up to cloud nine and making you dizzy. when you both somehow got to your bedroom, you were breathless and hot to the touch.

beomgyu had pulled away from you. “is this okay?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you saw the desire inside of them. you nodded, “yes, just please don’t stop kissing me.” and he obliged, his lips on yours again.

one by one, articles of clothing came off. there was brief awkwardness, the hem of your dress getting caught on the earrings you were wearing and the button of his pants refusing to come undone. it all was alright in the end when the two of you were laying on your bed, you only in your bra and panties and him only in his boxers, his huge bulge pressing into your thigh as he hovered above you.

you were growing needy, the alcohol edging you onwards. “beomgyu… i need you inside me,” you whimpered against his mouth as his hard boner rubbed against you. he hummed, lips moving to your neck, causing you to moan. “i need you to fuck me…” you breathed out. beomgyu pulled away with the slightest upturn of his lips.

he sat you up so that you were now straddling his lap as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra. “next time…” beomgyu murmured. “next time i’ll fuck you. but not tonight. tonight… we stop being strangers.” you shivered slightly at your already hardened nipples being exposed to the cool air. shivering more when beomgyu’s wet tongue circled them.

“is that okay?” beomgyu asked, staring into your eyes as he waited for your response. you nodded, unintentionally grinding against him, and moaned out, “yes.” his fingers had gripped your bare waist at the contact and his eyes shut tightly for a brief moment. “next time… i promise you. let me get to know your body again.”

and get to know your body, he did. beomgyu laid you back down gently and then pulled off your panties slowly while staring down at you, eyes caressing every inch of you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, gripping the blankets to keep yourself from pulling him to you.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours once more as he spread your legs apart. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved farther and farther down your body, looking up at you the entire time. you jolted slightly when he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs. “you’re so breathtaking, even more than before,” beomgyu spoke, trailing kisses up to your knee. he paused for a second, “i missed you so much, y/n.”

his tongue then swirled around your clit and your back arched off the bed, your hands finding their way into his pretty hair. beomgyu groaned, pulling away from your core with a wet mouth, as you pulled at it. just as quickly, he was back at it, making you moan for him as he devoured you. you creating pretty harmonies for him.

“fuck…” beomgyu said lowly. you could see how hard his cock was in his boxers and it made you need him even more. he then pushed two fingers into you, them slipping in easily with how wet you were for him. beomgyu pulled you up from the bed as he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you, tipping your head back and capturing your lips in a sweet and slow kiss. your tongues danced together, waltz together as you clenched around his fingers.

pulling away, you buried your face in his neck as you whimpered his name. “cum for me, baby,” beomgyu said in your ear softly. you didn’t need to be told twice, your warm release spreading all over his fingers.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i need you, please… your—your fingers aren’t e-enough.” beomgyu chuckled as he nodded. you released your hold on him so he could take off his boxes, his long and hard cock on full display for you. you used to dream of moments like these.

beomgyu looked at you, asking silently if you were ready. in response, you shakily got to your knees. he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly, you slid down onto him. the both of you gasped at the feeling, moans joining together in a beautiful song as you moved up and down on his cock.

you were giving each other sloppy and needy kisses, beomgyu wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he thrusted up into your pussy. you gasped against his lips, your hands laying to rest against his chest. he whimpered as he continued thrusting, “you feel so—so good. so good, baby. do you f-feel good?”

“y—oh… it feels s-so good,” you managed out. you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust he pushed into you. with the feeling of his veiny shaft inside you, sending electric currents throughout your body. the feeling of his lips on yours. moaning, you pulled away and rested your forehead on beomgyu’s. “i’m gonna c-cum again, gyu.”

he moved you so your back was against the bed again, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still deep inside you. groaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. “let me help you, baby. l-let me do the work,” beomgyu mumbled before you kissed him.

in passionate thrusts, you came around him again and a few seconds later you felt his warm cum pour inside of you. his hips jerked against yours and he let out a whine as he rolled into you, not planning on slowing down. “b-beomgyu…” you whimpered, gripping him tighter and throwing your head back so you were staring hazily at the ceiling. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“l-look at me, my pretty baby, i n-need to see your face,” beomgyu said between hard pants. between the sounds of your skin slapping together and the wet sounds of him entering and exiting you repeatedly. you looked at him through knitted brows, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “f-fuck… god, you d-don’t know what you d-do to me,” he murmured, eyes shutting for a moment. you pulled him down to kiss his jaw. “feels… feels so…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you clenched around him again.

beomgyu was twitching inside you more and more and you could tell he was overstimulating himself just to make you feel good. his words of praise were being slurred as he stared deeply into your eyes, breathing erratically.

when the two had came together, you couldn’t take anymore. your legs were shaking badly and your back was beginning to ache from how much you kept arching it. pushing beomgyu away until he was hovering above you, you barely managed to whimper out in a whisper, “c-can’t take it a-anymore, beomie…”

at your words he slipped out of you slowly, groaning loudly as you clenched tightly around his poor cock the whole way out. “y/n…” beomgyu moaned. he hovered above you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and arms trembling, before falling down next to you. beomgyu pulled you towards him until you were wrapped in his body. you tried not to think about how his still half hard cock was up against your sensitive pussy. his breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.

the two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, coming down from your highs and breathing the same air. beomgyu had been trailing lines down your torso with the tips of his fingers, leaving goosebumps in his wake. you could feel his smile against your cheek at the way your body reacted to his touch.

when you both were strong enough to get up, he cleaned the cum from between your legs and his with a warm and wet towel and then guided you to the bathroom. beomgyu drew a bubble bath for the both of you, helping you inside of it when your legs began to shake and your knees almost gave out.

now you laid back against his chest inside the bathtub, one of his hands trailing up and down your arm with a washcloth and the other wrapped tightly against your lower stomach. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this…” beomgyu trailed off softly. you turned slightly so you could look up at him. “you don’t know how long i wanted this either. how long i wanted to be with you in general.”

beomgyu smiled warmly down at you, that same warm smile he would give you every time you sang together. “how long?” he asked, playfulness slipping into his tone. “for as long as i can remember,” you giggled. “for as long as i’ve known you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, the action sending ripples to your heart. “i’ve wanted it for longer,” he replied, laughing when you playfully scoffed up at him. “this isn’t our first life together.”

that sentiment made you turn in the tub to face him fully, your eyebrows knitting together and your eyes full of fondness. it almost brought tears to your eyes. “beomgyu…” you murmured as you cupped his face softly and brought your lips to his. you kissed him slowly, trying to show him how much you loved him through it. your actions and words alone will never be able to fully express how you feel for him.

after the two of you cleaned up more in the bath, you laid side by side in your bed. thankfully, you still had some of beomgyu’s clothes that you just couldn’t get rid of from when you still lived together and you would steal them. you were in one of beomgyu’s old shirts now, body up against his in the darkness of your bedroom.

“i’m gonna miss you when you leave to go back on tour. i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered softly into the darkness. you weren’t very good at expressing your fears out loud, clearly. but you had to let him know. had to let him know that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing and you never see each other again. “so come with me,” beomgyu replied at your same tone, simply. “come with me and we won’t have to miss each other.”

you couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the song he wrote for you, the one the two of you would sing together. “over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss.” he was right about ‘graze’ having a whole new meaning in his interview. first, it meant the longing between the two of you. always dancing around each other, fingertips always seeming to just brush up against the other’s but never fully grasping. then, it meant the two of you drifting apart. missing the opportunity to admit your feelings and be together. and lastly, right now. right in this moment, the two of you together again after two long years. missing each other until your heart aches even though you’re right next to each other. it is funny how meanings change.

“okay,” you giggled softly. “i’ll come with you.” you weren’t going to linger. he was right, this wasn’t your first life together, you could feel it. you were gonna stay with him forever. beomgyu pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

last night, your world was turned back on it’s rightful axis as you and your bestfriend beomgyu—your lover beomgyu, sealed the two of your souls together.

that morning you both had woken up to a ton of missed calls and a plethora of text messages. you both stared at each other with wide eyes after realizing that the two of you had basically silently walked out of the celebration that was held for beomgyu. yeonjun scolding the two of you when he realized that not only was beomgyu not at his own party, but that you weren’t there either.

quick kisses and giggles were shared as beomgyu raced to get ready for the schedule he had to do today. “text me, okay? i want to hear from you. i’ll let you know when we’re leaving for the next stop, so get your bags ready,” beomgyu said, throwing his coat on and pressing another kiss to your lips, deepening the kiss for just a moment before he pulled away.

you were standing by the door, a lovesick smile on your face, “i will!” you giggled as he stalled more and pulled you into a hug. “and don’t delete the kisses,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before finally making his way through the door. you waved goodbye to him and shut the door, immediately pulling out your phone.

you: i’ll see you later today. good luck on your interview! xxx

there was an immediate response from him and you giggled as you read it and responded.

beomie: thank you, baby! i love you!! you: i love you more!! xxx beomie: i love you more than there are stars in the sky!!! you: and i love you more than there are galaxies in our universe!!!! xxx beomie: okay… you win… but only because i can’t think of anything better!!!

laughing, you went to your room and started packing the things you needed for beomgyu’s tour.

two years ago—four since the beginning—you left the kisses at the end of your messages to your boyfriend beomgyu.

you were backstage just before one of his shows with him and yeonjun. beomgyu’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side. your mouth was currently hung open in shock at yeonjun’s revealing news.

“i’m sorry, y/nie, but i just had to tell him. two years i had to listen to the both of you cry over each other—two years! i couldn’t do it anymore. i had to tell him about the things you were saying!” yeonjun sighed dramatically as if he were so defeated. you pushed his shoulder lightly, “you ass! then you had the nerve to set the two of us up at beomgyu’s concert with the tickets he gave you!”

beomgyu let out a laugh from next to you, laughing louder when you turned a playful glare to him. “if i didn’t…” yeonjun trailed as he spoke to you with raised eyebrows, “you two wouldn’t be together right now. now would you?” you rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around beomgyu and laying your head on his chest.

“i’d like to think we would find our way back together,” beomgyu spoke, looking down at you. you smiled up at him in return. “uh huh…” said yeonjun, causing the three of you to erupt into laughter.

since beomgyu’s debut album and tour to go along with it, he’s released two more albums. all of the songs about you, once again. in every interview he had, he gushed about you to whoever would listen. you’ve also finally published your book, deciding to let beomgyu’s essence flow through the entirety of it. you couldn’t remove him even if you tried. and trust, you had tried.

one of the staff members gave a signal to beomgyu and he nodded back and gave a thumbs up. it was almost time for him to be on stage. for the first time ever, you were singing ‘graze’ and ‘forethought’ together with their whole new meanings.

you stared at beomgyu’s stunning side profile as he peeked out to the crowd. you almost laughed at yourself, at your past thoughts. of course love was meant for you. of course you and beomgyu were meant to be together, meant to be in love. meant to share each of your lifetimes and universes and supernovas and nebulas and brand new brightly burning newborn stars together.

of course the two of you were meant to love each other forever, how could you ever think differently?

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

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[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

#tumblrpost #writers on tumblr #rimunagenius speaks #women’s basketball #wbb x reader #wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #uconn wbb x reader #wlw masterlist #sapphic wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw headcanons #wlw yearning #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

[dnd-writes]

Cuddle Time

AO3

Tags: Non-con, BFH-ish, unedited so bear with me, gf!Jiheon, human sex toy, emotional disregard, choking, carry fuck, ass-to-mouth, slapping, face fucking

A/N: A little late but... BELATED JIHEON DAY!!! Big thanks to @nsfwmaemi for the plot idea (and for pointing out that it was Jiheon day cause I wouldn't have written this otherwise lmfao). Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Baek Jiheon? Break Jiheon.

You are woken up by a sudden weight on your chest, you start to panic but instantly calm down once the familiar scent of strawberries hits your nose and you instinctively wrap your arms around the person on your chest. You don’t even need to open your eyes to confirm it’s Jiheon, it’s her favorite thing to do. You love it as well but today you have some sort of predicament between your legs and it doesn’t help that Jiheon is brushing against it as she snuggles into you.

You finally open your eyes and the first thing you see is Jiheon’s heavenly smile but in your current state of horniness, all you see is a fuckable set of lips and it serves to just rile you up even more. You start breathing heavily as the thought of Jiheon’s tight mouth wrapped around your cock while making the lewdest and sloppiest of sounds fills your mind.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we fuck?” You ask blatantly. “It’s been a while and—” You cut yourself off and instead just lightly thrust upwards, making Jiheon know your situation as you poke her with your tip.

“Hnggghhh, I don’t want to move,” she whines. “Maybe next time.” That maybe hurts you deeply but with your dick being so desperate, instead of backing down you feel a sense of determination fill you. You’re not taking no for an answer, you need that sweet release even if it means going the distance and crossing boundaries.

“Please, I need it. Even if you just let me go to th—” 

“But I’m already here, I don’t want to get up,” Jiheon whines again, this time nuzzling herself closer into the nook of your neck, really cementing herself on top of your warm body.

It’s not really a problem having her on top of you, you can just easily push her off and go jack off in the bathroom but you quickly realize that there’s no fun in that at all. But then a wicked idea strikes you, why use your strength to get Jiheon off of you when you can just overpower her then have your way with her body? She doesn’t want to move but she doesn’t have to and if she doesn’t want to help you, then you’ll just help yourself.

You start by pampering Jiheon with love and affection as you plant soft kisses on her forehead to distract her from the fact that your hand is already on her butt. It worked up until you gave her cheek a light squeeze, making Jiheon shoot her head up and give you a playful glare. “Oppaaa~ I told you, not now.”

You move your hand to her back and chuckle it off, you go back to giving her quick pecks on her face as she lays her head back down but after a short while you start snaking your hand lower and lower, this time all the way inside her shorts, you can feel her underwear already and you just want to rip it right off.

“Ya! I wasn’t in the mood already and you doing that is not helping at all!” Jiheon glares at you again, now more fierce and sincere, letting you know she’s not playing. But what makes her think you are?

Instead of pulling out, you double down and push your hand further inside, beneath her panties. You find her asshole and start teasing it with your finger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jiheon shouts out, she tries to get up and leave but you wrap an arm around her and pull her back down against your body, putting her back in the position she so vehemently didn’t want to leave just moments ago.

Jiheon can’t manage to break free from your grip, she struggles, she pushes against you, she squirms, but no matter what she tries she’s stuck with you. “Shhh, just relax and let me do everything, before you know it, it will be over,” you whisper in her ear to calm her down but it seems that she didn’t hear it, still continuing to struggle to get out.

You roll over and get on top of Jiheon, you put a hand around her neck to hold her in place while you try to undress her. Her legs flail wildly but one tense squeeze around her throat is enough for her to shift her focus to not going unconscious. Jiheon tries to pry your hand off but once she moves to remove another finger, the previous one has already gone back against her skin. Eventually you show some remorse and give her some room to breathe, at least now you get to mess with her clothing undisturbed.

You pull her shorts and underwear down then throw them off the bed. As you move your eyes back up to Jiheon, all you see is pain and fear. The image of Jiheon crying is one you would normally feel sad at, one where you would rush to wipe the tears away, one where you would console her and cheer her up—but at that moment you are the sole reason for her despair and you don’t feel guilty at all.

“Oppa…” Jiheon forces out with what little air she has in her. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just please… stop. Y-You’re hurting me…”

You fake a sense of realization as you let go of Jiheon’s neck, letting her gasp for air and regain her composure. You take your hands off of her body not because she begged for it rather you did it to start undressing yourself. Jiheon sees you and dashes out, you quickly kick your shorts off then run after her. 

Jiheon only manages to open the door before you catch her, you slam the door shut then slam her against the wall. Jiheon yelps as her petite frame is pinned down, once again unable to move with you holding her down. “AHH!!! Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I will really make it up to you, just… please, let me go.” The trembling her voice makes fills your ears and the squirming her body does just makes her grind against your erection, you’ve never felt so alive.

“Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere. You’re going to make it up to me using your body,” you whisper into her ear and Jiheon just sobs realizing her helplessness. She shakes her head which is the only form of movement her body is still capable of but you restrict that too by pressing the side of her face against the wall. You lean in close and lick the side of her face, Jiheon winces as your tongue grazes her skin, you’ve never imagined tears to be so delightful but there you are lapping at the side of Jiheon’s face as if her eyes are some sort of leaky faucet. 

You shift your lips lower until you reach Jiheon’s neck and you take no time before attacking one of her most sensitive areas with kisses and bites. It’s a very odd predicament for Jiheon, being pleasured against her will despite the rest of her body in disarray, forced to moan from your touch despite the rest of her body disagreeing. You leave one big hickey before you move up to nibble on her ear. “You’re moaning so much, baby. Just admit it already, you love me using you like this.”

“I d-don’t, oppa. You’re scaring me. I really don’t like it.” Jiheon begs for mercy again but you continue to drill your mouth onto her delicate skin, leaving more and more hickeys on Jiheon, causing her to moan in pleasure much to her wishes. You mark her as yours, not treating her as someone you are partnered with rather you treat her as something you own.

Having wasted enough time painting her neck, you pry Jiheon off the wall then you reach down and hook her legs with your arms. Jiheon yelps as her entire body is lifted off of the ground rather effortlessly, you rest her back on your chest while you hold her legs up high, folding her in half. You can hear her hyperventilating, completely panicking over realizing just how powerless she is compared to you. You’ve never really appreciated Jiheon’s small and light frame until now, you barely have a problem carrying her, it’s like she’s just some toy you get to pilot around.

You position Jiheon’s butt over your rod until you feel yourself just outside of her rear entrance, you try to push yourself inside but without any help or preparation, it feels almost impossible. “Hngh… P-Please, oppa, I’ll do anything you want just put me d–ahHHHH!!!” You’ve had enough of her lies and empty promises and so you just lower Jiheon and thrust upwards, her screams fill the room just as much as your cock fills her ass. You don’t even stop to shut her up, not caring if any neighbor might hear you, just relishing in the sweet sounds of her torment filling your ears.

You’ve always thought of Jiheon as some sort of doll but never in your life have you ever thought of treating her like one but here you are now lifting and lowering her body onto your shaft like she weighs nothing.

You reduce Jiheon to a whining mess, she tries to speak, to reach out to whatever humanity you have left inside of you but her words come out slurred, unable to say a complete word let alone form a cohesive thought as you relentlessly pound into her. Fucking Jiheon’s ass has never felt this amazing, the lack of lube, the lack of regard to her well-being and safety, it just energizes you to keep going.

To call Jiheon’s ass tight is an understatement, the unpreparedness mixed with her discomfort and struggling work together to really make her walls clamp down on you. It’s like she doesn’t want you to leave her asshole. Part of you wants to whisper and tease Jiheon with how much her ass is hugging you but even you are too enamored to say anything.

Eventually the grip Jiheon’s ass has on your girth starts to prove too much even for you. You plant your feet and rest your legs as you adjust your hands to hold onto Jiheon’s shoulders. Jiheon tries her best to put what little strength she has left to hold her head steady while you hold her body firmly in your arms as you start hammering her body down onto you, letting her ass slam into your crotch with loud slaps. You really solidify Jiheon’s place as an object as you recklessly use her entire body to jack yourself off until you feel your cum burst inside of her ass.

You let your dick out then drop Jiheon onto the bed, you miss the mark quite a bit causing her to roll over to the floor and hit it with a thud. It sounded like it hurt and now you regret dropping her directly in the first place. You sit down and wait but Jiheon is just quietly sobbing on the ground, so you reach down and grip onto the base of her head then force her to look at you. Her face is a mess of tears, her ever vibrant smile now nowhere to be seen and you’re somehow loving it.

“Oppa…” Even after all that’s happened so far, you wonder how she can still call you such a name. “Y-Y-You’re done, right? Can we j-just lay in bed? I promise to forget this happened, just please stop, oppa.” You don’t even pause to think about it, stopping right now when your dick is still hard is the last thing you want to do so you drag Jiheon’s face closer to your throbbing cock to let her know your answer. Jiheon breaks into another crying fit knowing that you’re not done using her.

You wipe the tears on her face using the tip of your cock, replacing it with leftover semen, and Jiheon grimaces in disgust. “Just open wide, bitch. It’s the least you can do for me now.” 

Jiheon flinches hearing you call her such a thing but despite all the pain you’ve caused her so far, you can still see her desperation clawing at you in hopes of finding the man she once knew. “Oppa, I still lo—” You don’t dare listen to her, you don’t dare to let her finish her sentence, instead you grip the back of her head and shove her face down onto your crotch, the resulting choking Jiheon is doing around your girth sends you to euphoria. Turns out her smile isn’t the only heavenly thing her face has, her entire mouth is a world of pleasure sent down from the skies. You almost hunch over, feeling your entire body be electrified just from Jiheon choking on your dick.

If you treated her body like some inanimate fuck doll earlier, now you treat her face like a fleshlight. No doubt Jiheon’s throat is better than any toy you have used, all the features any gadget could ever have and more, all with the added benefit of being free while also not needing to be cleaned out. Now you think about using Jiheon to satisfy your every need at every moment you need her to, though for now you savor the moment.

You put a hand towards Jiheon’s cheek and she instinctively tries to snuggle into it but you betray the short moment of intimacy with a sharp slap, you didn’t expect it to do much but the resulting groaning sends shivers through your spine as her throat vibrates around you. You slap her again, and again, and again, it’s like a button to turn on a feature and you just can’t get enough of it. Feeling the sting in your palm you switch your hands around and begin doing the same to the other side of her face.

After a while, you pull her off and dangle her head above your cock, you wait for her to speak but the only thing that comes out of her mouth is spit that drips onto you. Jiheon’s too exhausted, too used, too spent, too broken to do or say anything anymore and you feel a sense of gratification seeing the outcome of your work.

You put your hands back to the side of Jiheon’s head and start pumping her up and down your length, really treating her mouth like a fleshlight as you give her no room to adjust or rest, just a fast and steady pace, letting her throat resonate a mixture of gags and chokes as you ignore the limit her body can handle.

You catch glimpses of her eyes from time to time and you can tell just how empty and lifeless they have become. From your girlfriend, Jiheon has now become your slave, though with how unresponsive she has gotten, toy would be a more appropriate title for her.

As you feel your next load about to release, you yank Jiheon’s head off of your crotch and jerk yourself to completion with the other hand, your second orgasm flies onto her face covering it almost completely in white. Your climax was so explosive that you didn’t have the time to savor the sight as you felt yourself pass out. All of a sudden…

You are woken up by a sudden weight on your chest, you start to panic but instantly calm down once the familiar scent of strawberries hits your nose and you instinctively wrap your arms around the person on your chest. You don’t even need to open your eyes to confirm it’s Jiheon, it’s her favorite thing to do. You love it as well but today you have some sort of predicament between your legs and it doesn’t help that Jiheon is brushing against it as she snuggles into you.

#kpop #kpop smut #fromis9 #fromis9 smut #jiheon #jiheon smut

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

[amhrosina]

Be My Baby

Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!

warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.

From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.

The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.

“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”

Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.

“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.

“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.

“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.

“Hang on. I brought something for you.”

“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.

He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.

The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.

“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 

He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.

“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”

You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.

“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”

You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.

“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.

“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”

“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 

“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”

“And you stayed.” You finished for him.

“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”

This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.

“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.

“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”

For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.

“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”

He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”

You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.

“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”

Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.

A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.

“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”

The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.

“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”

“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 

He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.

“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”

That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.

The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 

“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”

His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.

“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”

“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”

You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.

“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 

He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 

Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 

You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.

You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”

“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”

“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”

He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 

“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”

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[physalian]

10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #aragorn #pixar cars #kung fu panda #lilo and stitch #treasure planet #atla #katara #my hero academia

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3

Masterlist

Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.

Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.

This was still the same day, right?

Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.

For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.

Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.

So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.

But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.

A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.

The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?

Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.

Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.

There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.

He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.

And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?

Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?

He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.

And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.

He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.

The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."

Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"

Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.

Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."

The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.

"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."

"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."

"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."

"Then tell me who she is."

Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."

"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"

A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."

A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.

"Deal."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

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