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wonusite · 10 months

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I Hate U, I Love U

❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut

WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation

a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!

You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.

An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.

Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.

As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.

Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.

This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.

The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.

As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.

You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.

In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.

“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”

You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.

The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.

Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.

For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.

Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.

“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”

Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.

“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?

You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.

“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”

Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.

Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.

You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.

When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.

“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”

You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?

“I’m talking to you.”

Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”

Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”

“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”

You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”

Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.

“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”

Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.

The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.

Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.

When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.

In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.

“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”

If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”

The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.

“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”

You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.

“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”

His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”

“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”

Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.

The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.

Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.

Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.

“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”

You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”

Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.

“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”

The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”

You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”

“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”

A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”

Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”

You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”

Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.

Things don’t get better after that first day.

Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.

As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.

“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”

It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.

“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”

His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.

“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.

Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”

“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”

Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.

“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.

It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.

But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.

“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.

“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”

“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”

Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.

“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.

“Did his family go broke or something?”

“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”

There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.

You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.

Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.

It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.

If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.

“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”

“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”

There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”

Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.

Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.

Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.

The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.

In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.

Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.

That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.

This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.

When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.

“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”

It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.

“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”

“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”

Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.

“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”

You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.

Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.

The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.

Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.

Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.

“Your dad really outdid himself.”

Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.

“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”

Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:

1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.

But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.

“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”

Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.

“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”

His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?

“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”

He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?

“Son.”

Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”

Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.

The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.

Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.

“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.

“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”

It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.

“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”

Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.

“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”

Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”

Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.

“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”

Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.

“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.

The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.

“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”

His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.

“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”

Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.

“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.

“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”

There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”

“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”

She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.

There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.

This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.

“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.

Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”

The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”

You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”

Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.

“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.

You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”

Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”

Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”

“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”

Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”

You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”

“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.

“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”

You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.

If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.

Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.

“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”

Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.

“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”

Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”

“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”

“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”

Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.

Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.

“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.

“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.

Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.

Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”

You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.

“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”

He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.

“The very one.”

It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”

You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.

“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.

“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”

“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.

Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.

As usual, your manager was right to worry.

Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.

It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”

You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”

Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”

For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.

“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”

Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.

You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.

As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.

“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.

“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”

He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.

It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.

Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.

The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.

You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.

Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.

It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.

“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.

Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”

Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.

“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”

He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.

“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.

Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.

“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”

You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.

“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.

“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”

Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.

You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.

You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.

This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.

When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.

“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”

Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.

The victory, however, is short-lived.

Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.

It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.

When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.

Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.

“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”

You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”

Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.

“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”

Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.

Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.

“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”

Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.

“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.

The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?

Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”

The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.

“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.

“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.

“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”

His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.

“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”

Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.

“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”

There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.

“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”

“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."

“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”

Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.

After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.

Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.

All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.

“Y/N.”

You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.

There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.

“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.

You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.

“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.

“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”

Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.

“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”

The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.

Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”

There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.

“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”

Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.

“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”

“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.

“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”

When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.

The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.

“What is it that you want to say, then?”

“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”

Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?

“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”

That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.

In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.

“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”

Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”

All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.

“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”

Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”

His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”

Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.

“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”

The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.

“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”

Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”

“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”

“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.

It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”

Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.

You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.

“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.

The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.

“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”

Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”

With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.

Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”

Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.

You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.

The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.

“Be my girlfriend.”

His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”

“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”

You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.

“Fine, but I have conditions.”

Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.

“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”

You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”

Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.

“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.

You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”

Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.

“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”

Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.

“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”

You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”

Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.

Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.

He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.

“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.

“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.

You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.

“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”

Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”

He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.

“Then, should we take it a step further?”

You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.

Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).

“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”

Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.

You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”

There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.

Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”

On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.

There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.

Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.

“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.

You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.

Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.

When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.

“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.

“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”

After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.

You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.

When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.

“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”

Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.

His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.

Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.

You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.

“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.

You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.

“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”

You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.

“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”

It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.

“I don’t hate you.”

His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”

“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.

“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.

“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.

Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”

He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.

“They look so cute together.”

This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.

Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.

It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.

“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.

You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.

“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”

You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.

“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”

His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.

And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.

“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.

“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”

Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.

“Stay forever.”

It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.

In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.

“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.

“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”

“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”

You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.

“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.

“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”

His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.

When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.

“Want to get breakfast?”

You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.

“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”

Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.

“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.

The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”

Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.

“You’re not coming back?”

You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.

“And I don’t want to breakup.”

The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”

“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”

It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.

“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.

You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.

“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”

Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”

The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.

“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.

Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.

“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”

You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”

Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.

“Why?”

You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.

“I missed you so much.”

You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.

The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.

Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”

Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.

“Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.

When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”

Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.

The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.

“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.

You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.

Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”

His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.

“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.

You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.

Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.

“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.

He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.

“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.

That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.

“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”

“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”

You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.

“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.

Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”

“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.

Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.

“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.

You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”

“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.

Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.

Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.

“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.

“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”

His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.

“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.

“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”

“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”

He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”

His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.

The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.

“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.

You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.

Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.

“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”

It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.

“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”

“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.

Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.

Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.

Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.

“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.

You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.

His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.

“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”

Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.

In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.

Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.

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

#svthub #jeonghan smut #svt smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #svt x reader #jeonghan x you #svt x you #jeonghan imagines #svt imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader

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simplyholl · 10 months

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Be A Good Girl For Daddy

Summary: When Loki’s son breaks up with you, his father has a tempting plan for revenge.

Pairing: Dilf Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship. Mentions of you getting cheated on. Daddy Kink. Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

W/C: 1.4k

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Your relationship with Narfi had been rocky from the start. He was mercurial. You had to walk on eggshells just to keep him happy. Every time there was an argument, he mentioned how there was no shortage of women waiting to be with him. You were replaceable. He never let you forget it. Despite everything, you loved him.

On his best days, he was sweet, loving, Prince Charming come to life. You loved everything about him, including his family. His brother, Vali was the exact opposite. He was the perfect partner to his wife, Olivia. You couldn’t help your jealousy. He never fought with her or raised his voice, especially not in public. You weren’t sure he was even capable of losing his temper.

But where Narfi lacked manners, his father, Loki made up for it. He would always open doors for you, pull your chair out, refill your drinks, get you flowers on special occasions. He was always scolding Narfi for his treatment of you.

One night after a particularly heated argument, Loki told you that you deserved better than his son. Still you stayed in a relationship, you should have left years ago.

Tonight was the end of that, though. You had caught Narfi texting with another girl and from the conversation, you could tell he had been sleeping with her. When you confronted him, he broke up with you. He said that you were insecure and he he didn’t know why he kept you around so long. You had wore your sexiest dress for him tonight, and you still weren’t enough.

To make a bad situation worse, he did it in front of his family. Vali and Olivia tried to comfort you, but you were too shocked, too hurt. You couldn’t move. You just sat on the steps, your face in your hands, sobbing. They finally gave up and left for their apartment.

Loki let you cry in peace, busying himself by cleaning his house. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, but you knew it was too long when Narfi came in with the woman he was cheating with. They both stared at you for a moment before walking passed you.

“You’re still here? She’s so pathetic.” He says making the girl laugh as they walk by. You rolled your eyes at the irony. He was calling you pathetic when he was so terrible with money that he couldn’t keep a steady job. He couldn’t afford rent or pay his bills so he had to live with his father.

Loki saw the whole interaction and came to check on you. He reaches his hand out to you. You take it, letting him lead you to the kitchen. “Dry your tears, sweet girl. I’ve told you, you deserve better.” You sniff wiping the tears from your eyes. “I know, I should have listened to you. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Your gaze lingers on Loki’s handsome features. You thought it was crazy that he had been single for so long. Part of Narfi’s appeal had been that he was almost as gorgeous as his father. You had hoped he would age like him too.

Dwelling in your heartbreak gave you time to think. You wished you had met Loki first. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t made yourself come to the thought of him more than once. His bedroom was beside Narfi’s. After having less than satisfying sex with Narfi, you would touch yourself thinking of him.

Narfi would take a shower right after, leaving you to take care of yourself. It wouldn’t take long for you to get yourself off when you thought of Loki next door. You always tried to be silent just in case he could hear you, but a few months ago his name slipped passed your lips. If he heard you, he hasn’t said anything or acted differently around you.

“You were too good for him. I raised him to be a gentleman, but obviously I failed there.” Loki’s voice clears your thoughts. You take his hand in yours to comfort him. “It’s not your fault he’s such an asshole. It’s silly, but I always wished he was more like you.”

Loki’s eyebrow quirks at your words. He cups your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. “I know the perfect way to get back at him.” Your eyes light up. You would love to get revenge for everything he had put you through. You knew Loki to be quite the trickster, so this should be good.

“We could sleep together.” He suggests as serious as a heart attack. “I don’t know. That’s a little inappropriate, isn’t it?” Loki leans against the table. He’s acting if what he’s just said isn’t ridiculous. “Darling, I can fuck you better than he ever could. You think I don’t hear you on the other side of the wall? I know he doesn’t fuck you right. And don’t pretend like you’re not attracted to me. I’ve heard you moaning my name while you touch yourself. What better way to get revenge than to fuck his father?”

He smiles at you in that way that makes him impossible to resist. He makes it very hard to argue with him. You clear your throat. “If I agree, would we tell Narfi?” Loki considers for a moment. “If you want to tell him, we will.” He smirks. “Or it could be our little secret.” You jump on the counter, beckoning him closer with your finger.

Loki takes his place between your legs, his eyes full of lust. “We will just keep it between us. I love that he won’t know. It makes this so much hotter. The knowledge that his dad made me cum, and he never could is the best revenge.”

Loki’s large hand rests on the back of your neck, bringing your face to his. His lips collide with yours. You feel his muscled back through his button up. Your fingers fumble trying to undo each button. You become frustrated, settling for pulling the material between your hands as hard as you can.

A few buttons spring free. Loki chuckles darkly. “Impatient, are we?” He removes his shirt for you. He brings his hands down to your thighs, eventually landing on your stomach. He pushes you gently laying you down on the cool marble of the high top.

“A delicious meal spread out for me on the counter. I have no choice, but to eat.” He lowers his head between your thighs, swift fingers pull your panties down your legs. He wastes no time. His warm tongue rolling in waves against your clit. You clutch his shoulders, moans falling from your lips.

He places his arms underneath you, tilting your hips upward. He sucks and nips at you until you’re an incoherent mess. He seals his mouth to your clit, the pressure causing you to come undone. He unbuttons his pants, his hard cock jutting outward. He lifts you off the high top, pulling your dress up for better access. He lines you up with his throbbing length. Loki sinks into you, backing you up against the stove.

His rough fingers dig into your hips as he lowers you back onto himself. He rocks into you harder now, basically using you as a fuck toy. Your back roughly hits the knobs on the stove. It hurts, but you don’t mind. All you can focus on is this force of a man, slamming into you.

He moves you toward the table, switching positions, so now he’s behind you. He spreads your legs wider, sinking into you from this new angle. His thumb finds your clit, strumming with expertise. You arch your back for him, throwing your ass back to meet every thrust.

He takes your hair in his hands, pulling harder with every lunge. “My precious little slut. Such a good girl for me. Tell me who you belong to.” He commands, circling your clit. The fire in your belly rising, bringing you closer to the edge.

“I’m yours, Daddy.” His movements are rougher now. He grips your hips harder pulling you back against him. His cock plunges deeper, hitting your sweet spot. You cry out. Your knuckles grip the edge of the table.

“That’s it, come for Daddy.” His finger swirls your slick bud with perfection in tandem with his large hand slapping against your ass. You shatter as he continues bringing his hand down against your soft flesh. He talks you through it like you always fantasized he would. “So perfect. You take me so well.”

You feel his thrusts grow sloppy and know he is close too. He stills, spilling inside you. His ragged breath tickling your neck. You lay there for a minute against the table with Loki still buried deep inside you.

You hear footsteps so you glance up. “You fucked my dad?!” Narfi exclaims, looking from you to his father, still buried inside you. “I always knew you were a dirty slut. This just proves it.” Narfi spits the insult at you, usually his words would sting. Now they don’t bother you at all. Loki looks at his son, smirking as he slaps you on the ass in front of him. “She was a good girl for Daddy.”

Tags

@fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @potter-puff007 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @marygoddessofmischief @coldnique @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @gigglingtiggerv2

#loki x reader #loki #loki smut #loki x yn #loki laufeyson #loki x reader smut #loki x yn smut #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki au #loki imagine #mcu loki #loki marvel #loki x female reader smut #be a good girl for daddy

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atticrissfinch · 9 months

Text

Exposed (javier peña x fem!reader) (18+)

pairing: dark!professor!javier peña x fem!student!reader summary: when you accidentally send a risqué picture to the wrong number, your worst nightmares are realized warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] heavy dubcon blowjob, power imbalance, blackmail, extortion, threat of revenge porn, age gap (unspecified, but Javi is in his 40s, reader is early 20s), overheard male masturbation (javi makes you listen to him jack off), brief mentions of drugs/drug use, degradation, pet names/derogatory terms (baby, sweetheart, whore, slut, etc), probably terrible Spanish word count: ~5.4k | ao3 a/n: my contribution to the haunted hoedown, because we know how I salivate over a taboo trope. Also s/o to my love Emma @walkintotheriveranddisappear for some deliciously depraved ideas that made it into this fic 😈

You knew the class was going to be small, but you didn’t expect it to be this small.

You heard Professor Peña was hot, but you didn’t expect him to be this hot.

You had scored a spot in a highly coveted by-recommendation-only course, instructed by the notoriously attractive Professor Peña. You’re not strictly proud of the amount of groveling you had done to secure this class, but it had paid off regardless.

To approximately 15 students situated around a large round table, Professor Peña announces that this is a participation-heavy class and you each are expected to contribute vocally to every discussion. That and the couple of papers through the semester will cement your grade in the course. So you had better come prepared to talk.

He also does something no other professor in your three years at university has done—he recites his personal cell phone number for the class, inviting you to text him at any time with questions or concerns.

A bold choice, you think, considering his painfully good looks. You’re sure the female students throw themselves at him constantly, begging for higher grades with juicy red lips and flimsy dresses. Shit, any gender probably tries shooting their shot with him on the regular.

He’s got those pouty lips under a finely manicured mustache that definitely shouldn’t work in this day and age—much more at home in, what, the 80s?—and that adorable furrow in his brow that students would trip over themselves to smooth over. And those fucking biceps. You can practically hear the stitchings on his button-up sleeves screaming for their lives every class.

The real question is how often does this guy give in? He comes off fairly good-natured if not a bit of a prick. Very sure of himself and his knowledge. But as the lessons have gone by, you haven’t noticed him delving out any special treatment to anyone in particular. He drills each student pretty equally, offering counterpoints and playful “devil’s advocate” takes to stoke the fire of the lecture.

All in all, he’s a decent professor. Intense, but thoughtful. Not afraid to argue, but not afraid to step down or consider a point he hadn’t before with an upside-down grin and a nod of his head.

And he looks, but he doesn’t linger. The low-cut tops catch his eye, that much is obvious, but he’s well practiced in disguising it. You’d only notice if you were looking for it.

And maybe you were. Maybe you were looking for it. Not seriously. Just for fun. Just to scavenge for a weak spot in his tenured armor. The more you search for the throat-clears, the wiping of invisible dirt from his nose, the easier they are to spot. The man is clearly not immune to temptation.

His gaze tends to slide over you like butter, only dropping briefly to your chest after he’s done with his line of questioning and moving on to another student.

Very smooth. Near undetectable.

But he treats you with respect, like an intellectual. Values your insights, praises your observations. Makes you feel respected.

Which is why you don’t have an issue texting him a couple of days before a deadline, politely asking for a short extension.

However, what you should have been much more careful about was who else you were texting at the time. Some frat boy who had a nice dick and no qualms about a “friends with benefits” situation.

A boy who was currently baiting you for “something sexy” for him to get off to tonight.

Well, you definitely sent something. To someone.

And when said boy doesn’t respond after a few minutes, and you double-check your work, you think your soul might ascend from your fucking body.

Wrong text thread.

WRONG FUCKING TEXT THREAD.

Your fingers type as furiously as they ever have before, frantically attempting damage control.

OH MY GOD PROFESSOR IM SO FUCKING SORRY

PLEASE DONT LOOKNAT THAT

PLEASE DELETE IT IM SOSORRY THAT WAS NOT MEANT FOR YOU

You’re sweating. In nothing but the panties you were wearing in that godforsaken picture you just sent. To your fucking professor.

Who hasn’t fucking responded yet.

The minutes tick past, and your heart rate is not slowing. What the fuck do you do in a situation like this? You’re not even a faceless student in a sea of seven hundred and fifty in a lecture hall. He is keenly aware of you as a student. He sits right next to you during class sometimes.

Your phone lights up next to you: Professor Peña

Oh, fuck.

You don’t give him a chance to speak first before you’re hitting accept and word-vomiting all over him. “Professor I am so fucking sorry, that was so inappropriate, I cannot believe I did that, I am so fucking sorr—”

“Hey, slow down.”

His voice is disturbingly calm and firm.

“Take a deep breath.”

You do as instructed, inhaling as deeply as you can through your nose and cascading it out through your mouth.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not—”

He says your name softly, “It’s okay. It was a mistake, right?”

“Yes, a huge, massive mistake. I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“Not very focused on that paper you just asked for an extension for, huh?”

The smirk in his voice is…alarming to say the least. Very disarming. You can’t help but let out a harried laugh.

“Um, not at this very moment, no.”

“Or prior to this very moment, clearly.”

He’s making a joke. He’s making light of this to take the stress off. You know this. Then why does he sound so…

No. Of course not. There’s no way.

“I should have been more careful, I deeply apologize.”

“No more apologies needed. You’re…” You hear him sigh over the line, “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Fuck.

No no nononono.

“Professor, I—”

“I mean I’d have to be blind, right? To not appreciate a beautiful young woman like you. Those…gorgeous tits…”

Those last words have your mind stumbling over itself. Yeah, okay, you’ve fantasized about this man more than once. Even about him saying those exact words. But this is reality. Your professor—your actual, real-life professor—commenting on your bare tits.

“Professor Peña, I know what I just did, but I think this is very inappropriate,” You say shakily, suddenly feeling exceedingly uncomfortable in your own skin. You grab the throw blanket from the edge of your bed and wrap it around yourself as if he can see you through the phone.

“Am I just supposed to ignore what I’m seeing? Right now, clear as day on my screen? God, you really are…radiant.”

“Please delete it.”

He pushes out a short laugh. “Well, now, I’m not so sure about that. Looks to me like this might be attached to that little favor you just asked me.”

Your eyes grow wide as the full implication of his words settles into your skin. “No, no, this is not a—a bribe, or anything like that, it was a mistake.”

You hear him make a tchk tchk sound with the side of his mouth. “Sure looks like a bribe from where I’m sitting.”

He can’t possibly think that. Do you come off as that desperate? No way. He even just confirmed that it was a mistake. He knows it’s not on purpose. Maybe he’s had students do that to him before. That’s all it is. Surely.

“Professor. That is so far off base from what’s happening here, I…I would never…”

Maybe your ears are deceiving you, but it sounds like his voice dips a little deeper. “And what if I were to consider that bribe? You willing to sweeten the pot a little?”

Holy shit. This cannot be real. The absolute fucking audacity of this man.

“Professor…I’m not…whoring myself out for a deadline extension,” You bite back with wavering determination. “And how fucking dare you even insinuate that.”

“No, of course not,” he posits, adding on almost as a throwaway, “Just whoring yourself out to every dim-witted frat boy on campus, then.”

What the fuck? Did he really just say that to you? Does he honestly feel like he has any place to judge you for sending one single spicy picture to a guy who, for all he knows, could have been your boyfriend? He’s not your boyfriend, but still. The balls this guy has on him to assume that, while he’s dropping sexual comments about a student’s body?

“Who the fuck do you think you are, professor? Talking to me like this? I will report your ass so fucking fast,” You snap back at him, already mentally compiling all the shit you’re about to send to the school.

His tone remains cool, verging on entertained. “And tell them what, exactly? That you’re asking for extensions and sending nudes to professors? Cause that seems to be all you have at this juncture.”

“That you’re sexualizing your students, maybe?”

“Again, with what evidence, sweetheart?”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“You have none, sweetheart. Now what you do have, is a delectable little body. And if you share a bit more of it with me, we could just…forget all about that pesky paper. How about that?”

This cannot be happening to you. This man, who instructs one of the most desired courses on campus, dangling a pass on a high-value assignment in front of you in exchange for you further degrading yourself for him. How many other girls has he done this to? Or are you just special? Fucking ew.

“I’m not sending your pervy ass any more of my body.”

“Okay. Fair enough,” He says dismissively. “You’ve shown me enough to make a splash, so I guess that’s all that really matters here.”

You hesitate. “What…what is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, it may not cause too much of an impact, since I’m sure every backwards-capped, trust fund with a cock has already seen what you’ve got. But I’m sure I could still do some damage.”

Your gut twists inside you. Holy shit. Would he really do that? Would he distribute your nudes to campus? Maybe an even wider range than that? He could bulldoze your career before it even starts. Tarnish your reputation before…before you’ve even really lived.

“You wanna leak my picture? You’re literally blackmailing me for nudes?”

He sounds as blasé as ever, like he’s picking grime from under his nails while casually threatening your future. “I’m just trying to facilitate your extension request. That’s all.”

“This is so fucked up,” You mumble clutching the blanket closer around you.

“It’s very simple, sweetheart. Send me what I want, and this goes away. The paper goes away. No one needs to know.”

There it is. The most hackle-raising black-and-white scenario that’s ever been foisted upon your sinking shoulders. Either way, this man wins. It’s really just a matter of who knows he won. Just the two of you, or…fucking everyone.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take the bait.

“No one else will know?”

“Not a single goddamn soul.”

“You swear on your fucking life?”

“Swear on my life, sweetheart.”

You scrub your face with your hand, groaning at the ludicrous circumstances you’ve found yourself in tonight. Who the fuck doesn’t double-check where they’re sending their fucking nudes?

Your voice comes out small, defeated. “Fine. What do you want?”

You hear an inhale and then a measured exhale. “I want the last piece of that puzzle, baby. Show me what’s under those panties.”

You crinkle your nose at the lasciviousness smothering his words. “God, you’re fucking sick, you know that?”

“Is that a no? Cause I can—-”

“Fuck. No, it’s not a no. Just fucking—hold on. Jesus. Trying to wrap my head around selling my fucking soul here. This is not how I imagined my night going.”

“Aww, was that naughty pic just a prelude for what was to come for some lucky Freshman in the dorms?”

“Shut up,” You mumble, your fingers tossing off the throw blanket and dancing indecisively at the band of your underwear. “Like I’d denigrate myself with a Freshman.”

“No, you’re just stripping down for a professor right now. Much more respectable.”

“Shut up,” You shout back again, hearing a laugh through the phone.

“Make sure to spread those legs for me, sweetheart. I want a front-row seat. That paper’s worth a lot of points.”

“Don’t fucking—I’m doing it, okay? Fuck.”

Before you can mull over it too much, you rid yourself of the final piece of clothing on your body. You flop onto your back and spread as directed, aiming the front-facing camera toward your exposed folds. Taking one more steadying breath, you hit the shutter button.

What sucks is you do have a fucking nice pussy. One that you’re very proud of. One that deserves to be appreciated. Just not like this.

The photo automatically attaches to your text thread, awaiting your final approval. Your face doesn’t show, on purpose. You want at least a sliver of plausible deniability in this shitshow. The previous one showing your entire fucking face, up on spread knees with your tits on full display in the mirror’s reflection was plenty.

You hit “send” before you psych yourself out.

You hear him groan and swear. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. That’s one pretty pussy.”

“Prettier than you fucking deserve,” You mutter back, snatching the blanket and covering yourself up again.

His next words are a bit muffled, the sound drowned out by him rustling the phone, but you make them out, “This is very nice, baby, thank you.”

Then your professor emits a prolonged sigh, curtailed with a moan at the end. Then another. And another…

“Jesus, are—are you jerking off right now?” You whisper accusingly, face scrunching in utter disgust.

“What else—fuck—what else would I be doing with these pretty pictures, baby?”

You mimic a gagging motion to yourself. “God, ok, we’re so fucking done here—”

“Don’t you fucking go anywhere, sweetheart,” He barks at you, and it does what he intends, making you stop. “You stay right—shit—right fucking here. You drop this call, the deal’s off.”

“Jesus, why?” You beg, face still pinched in distaste.

“‘Cause I fucking said so.”

You groan and throw your phone down, your room filling with the sounds of your fucking professor choking his cock.

“Fuck, that’s a sweet little pussy, baby. Just begging for my cock inside it. Ohhh fuck, shit I’m close,” He groans, almost whimpering with it. “God, wanna come right on those beautiful tits, baby. Oh fuck,” His voice breaks a bit at the end as it splits into a loud moan and an excess of panting breaths.

You have nothing to fucking say. Your brain is reeling from all the shit that just happened. You just listened to Professor Peña jack off to naked photos of you. How the fuck do you reconcile that with the man you’ve known in the classroom these past several weeks?

How do you reconcile the blatant fucking blackmailing that just solidified itself over the span of this call?

“Shit. Haven’t come that fast in a minute,” He huffs out, quieter than he was a minute ago as if he threw the phone aside and put it on speaker. “Body like a goddess, putita.”

You snatch up your phone with fury in your veins. “I know what that means. Don't ever fucking call me that, you sick pervert,” You spit out at him. “You’re the one extorting college girls for their fucking nudes. Who’s the real slut in this scenario?”

“Woah, woah, extorting? Who’s extorting here? I don’t see me begging anywhere in these texts. I see una putita,” He emphasizes the insult with relish, “throwing her pussy at me in hopes of some academic leniency. Now, what do you think the dean of students would make of that?” He remarks in feigned concern.

“You swore.”

“I did indeed. And as long as you keep that pretty little mouth shut, we shouldn’t have a problem. Should we?”

You rest your face in your palm, rubbing at your temples with your thumb and finger. You give a resolved sigh. “No, professor. No problem here. Let’s just…pretend it never fucking happened. Okay?”

You can hear his grin over the phone. “Never fucking happened. That’s right. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

The line goes dead and you pelt your phone into your sheets. All at once, the tears hit you like a fucking truck, and you fall apart into heaving sobs.

—

There’s no Buzzfeed article on how to girlboss your way through a college course after accidentally sending your professor nudes and having him blackmail you for more.

You know, you’ve checked.

It’s been several days since your encounter with Professor Peña, and this morning is your first class with him since. You’re choosier than you’ve ever been about your outfit of the day. Everything you own seems to be revealing in some way, and you’re trying to find something more…nun-chic. The last thing you want to do is give Professor Peña an excuse to ogle you throughout class, now that he knows what’s underneath.

Boyfriend jeans and a t-shirt it is, then.

The indecision makes you later than usual. Still on time, but barely. The only seat left is directly across from him. Of fucking course.

He doesn’t double-take or stare excessively, just a cordial nod acknowledging your presence as he begins the discussion. The banality of his reaction is almost worse than the idea of the opposite.

It’s like he really doesn’t give a shit about what he did the other night. Like it was a run-of-the-mill Thursday night for him. Get home, pour out some Jim Beam, grade some papers, stroke one out to your student’s nudes while on the phone with her, go to bed.

Jesus, for all you know, it might be normal for him.

Your mind is out to the fucking races, and it’s embarrassingly obvious when he puts you on the spot with a question or request for comment. You muddle your way through with the most lackluster answers you can conjure up in that second, just to get the heat off you.

When he’s done with his final inquisition toward you, he gives you a fleeting look up and down. Not in a manner someone would immediately pin as sexual, but there must be an element of it there all the same given the circumstance.

“Disappointing answers today. I expect you to be more prepared next time.”

He leaves it at that and launches into another talking point.

You want to disintegrate into a fucking puddle on the linoleum floor. Astral project your consciousness anywhere the fuck else than here, in this room, getting an “I’m disappointed in you” lecture in front of a dozen other students, from the king of all covert skeeves.

Verbally retaliating would just cause a scene, so you take your lumps and retract in on yourself, swearing under your breath. For the rest of class, you sit with your forehead resting on your hand, scribbling nonsense notes.

Professor Peña dismisses class, and you compile your shit like it’s revving up to run for its life. When you hear him call your name, you cringe.

You chance a look and he’s tapping to align his papers on the table, a stern expression fixed on you from beneath his lashes.

“Stick around for a moment, please.”

In the corner of your eye, you can see other students offering everything from looks of pity to secondhand fear to just plain yikes.

With a curt nod, you fall back into your seat, rhythmically rapping your pen on your notebook and well on your way to championing “eye contact avoidance” into an Olympic sport.

Professor Peña follows the last student to the door at your back, closing it after them. He doesn’t reappear in your line of sight, and when he breaks the silence, his voice comes from behind you.

“You know, that was a very lovely paper you wrote. But that doesn’t excuse you from interacting in class. You don’t get a pass to just coast through the rest of the semester.”

You snort, chucking your pen down on the table. “Oh, please.”

A large hand lands flat on the table next to your books, and a prickling awakens on the back of your neck at his proximity. You could work up a sweat just from the heat radiating off his body.

“I’m not loving the attitude here. Particularly from someone who couldn’t form cohesive sentences in response to rather simple questions today.”

“Oh, fuck off,” You snap at him, turning your body in your chair to face him.

He leers down at you with a raised eyebrow and his tongue poised between his teeth and the inside of his lip.

“I’m thinking you need to meet with me during my office hours.” He rolls his eyes up in thought and then nods. “Yup, I just decided. I expect to see you in my office this evening.”

“What? There’s literally no reason for—”

“You clearly aren’t coming prepared for lecture, and now you’re giving me attitude. I think we need to have a larger discussion about your future in this class.”

“I don’t need–”

“This is not a request.”

“That’s such bullshit, professor,” You glare back at him.

He shrugs with a frown, propelling himself back from the table with his hand and readjusting the strap of his leather messenger bag. “Between five and eight PM. If I don’t see you…” He pauses with his hand on the door handle and drops his gaze to your covered tits for a brief moment before giving a small tilt of his head, “Well, I guess we’ll both see.”

He swings open the door and leaves without another word.

—

You float the idea of not showing up. His threat is already beginning to wear thin to you. So what if he leaks your nudes? Not the end of the world. It’s an awkward conversation to have with your parents, to be sure, but that’s if it even came to that. His threats could be hollow. He could be nothing more than a sad, lonely man scrounging for women to wield power over. All bravado, no balls.

You ultimately came because he might be able to be reasoned with in person.

His voice beckons you in when you knock.

“Close it,” He orders from his desk when you enter.

“I prefer it stay open.”

He looks up with austerity from the document he’s studying. “I said close it.”

You stay put in front of the ajar door, staring him down.

He shakes his head and pushes himself up from his desk, stalking over and reaching past you to yank the door closed with an irritable eyebrow quirk. You hear the lock click in the deafening silence.

He throws his head in the direction of his desk and the chair in front of it. “Take a seat. And don’t fucking argue.”

You roll your eyes behind him but follow him over.

As you sit, Professor Peña situates himself at the front of his desk, his ass indenting against the protruding edge and his hands gripping it on either side of him. Your knees don’t quite touch, but they’re daring to.

He delivers an appraising look up your body, which is still clad in the same jeans and t-shirt.

“Jesus, you really do look better with nothing on if this is the shit you’re choosing to wear.”

“Oh, so you do remember the bullshit you pulled the other night,” You say with a nod, “Was starting to think maybe you forgot.”

His brow furrows. “Why the hell would I forget? What, did you think I was gonna whip my dick out in the classroom the second I saw you?”

You shrug. “How am I supposed to know the depth of your depravity? Anyway, why the fuck am I here?”

“Well,” Professor Peña sighs, looping a thumb over his black leather belt, “since it seems to me that you’re having trouble opening your mouth in class and filling it with anything of substance…” He slides his hand to the silver buckle and gives it a small tug, “Thought maybe I’d offer you a private lesson.”

Your eyes dart from his belt to his face, which is rich with smug satisfaction that you want to smack right off.

“Not a fucking chance in hell, dude,” You respond, leaning back in your chair.

His smirk only creeps wider as he leans forward in response, caging you into your seat with his hands on your armrests. “Funny, I’m not really presenting this as a suggestion.”

You glower back at him, slamming your hands down on top of his and digging your nails into his flesh. “Back the fuck off, old man.”

The motherfucker barely blinks. “It appears you might be forgetting that I’m the one with the power here.”

“Are you? Because I’ve decided I don’t give a fuck if you share my pictures, dude. Go ahead and fucking do it. It’s not like they can kick me off campus for being the victim of revenge porn, and I can deal with the blowback. You don’t fucking scare me.”

That has him retracting his hands from your chair and reclining against his desk again, a swell of pride burning inside you when you see half-moon indents in his skin. He looks up at the ceiling in thought, tapping his fingers against the desk. “Maybe the pictures aren’t what you should be worried about.”

He doesn’t expound any further, and after several beats of silence you prod, “Fine, I’ll bite. What should I be worried about, professor?”

He lifts a hand to his chin, rubbing it with his fingers. “Didn’t I see you snorting coke on campus the other day? Before class?”

The accusation takes you aback. Your eyes narrow on him, studying his face. “What the fuck are you talking about? I barely even smoke weed.”

Professor Peña shifts his weight, crossing his arms on his broad chest. “Mmm, no, I’m pretty sure I saw you in possession of illegal stimulants on campus. Sure enough to report it, too.”

He squints his eyes in further thought, making a slight pout with his lips. “Could probably back it up with evidence, as well. I’d hate to find a dime bag on you after our next class.”

This fucker. This two-faced, sadistic fucker.

“You fucking wouldn’t.”

He winces as if in pity, baring his teeth in a faux-pained expression. “I would, actually. I’m mandated to report illegal drug possession for the safety of the campus.”

“Dean Hansen would never believe that—”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Baby, I’ve got Dean Hansen in my back fucking pocket,” He brags. “Not to mention having her in the backseat of my car, having on her knees in her own goddamn office. Where the fuck do you think I get it in between bimbo college sluts like you?”

You scoff incredulously, rolling your eyes. “You are not sleeping with Dean Hansen.”

“I’ve got the bitch on speed dial, sweetheart. Should we find out?” He rounds his desk and takes his own seat, lifting the phone off its hook.

You leap out of your seat and extend a hand, “Please don’t.”

He pauses with his finger above the keypad. He makes a single tilt of his head toward his crotch.

Your eyes follow his indication and your resolve begins to shudder. “Please…don’t. Don’t make me do this.”

Without taking his eyes off you, he presses a button on his speed dial and leans back in his chair with the phone cradled at his ear. Tangible silence flows between you as you both wait.

Then his face alights. “Hey, Deb. Javi.”

“Shit,” You whisper, practically diving around his desk and onto your knees, looking up at him with pleading desperation.

His head dips, gesturing toward his crotch again. He chuckles into the phone. “No, for once I am not calling for that. It’s actually concerning a student of mine.”

His eyes stay locked on yours, waiting.

A string of curse words color the inside of your head as your hands find his belt, fingers fumbling over themselves as you undo the buckle and fastenings of his pants.

“I’m fairly certain I caught her doing drugs in an alcove inside the Whitmore Building a few days ago.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” You chant under your breath as you jerk down his boxers to reveal his cock, hard and thick against his thigh. You wrap a hand around him without preamble, stroking him rapidly. “Please hang up.”

He ignores your request entirely.

“On top of that, she’s been acting increasingly erratic in my class.�� He reclines slightly in his chair and mimes licking his palm as he glances down at you. You huff and spit into your own, immediately returning to his length with a more acceptable glide.

He muffles the bottom of the phone, pulling it away from his face and whispering, “That’s a girl. Now put it in your mouth.”

So we’re really doing this, you think. This is what we’ve been reduced to.

You don’t allow yourself to spiral. Not now, not with him on the phone with the fucking dean of students. You ground yourself with a solid breath and lean in.

You encapsulate the head with wet suction, rubbing your tongue up against the underside and teasing the slit with his precome dribbling out. He stares down at you with hooded eyes, working his free hand into your hair to hold it.

“Right now I think I’ll just keep my eye on her. Don’t wanna get her in trouble if I’m mistaken, after all.” He rolls his hips up, pushing more of him into your mouth as you open for him. “She seems like a good girl. Wouldn’t wanna ruin her.”

You gag on him as quietly as you can manage, his movements making your eyes water and your mouth salivate.

“Maybe I’ll call you later, Deb,” He offers noncommittally into the phone, saying a final goodbye and hanging up. He lets out a heavy sigh and readjusts his grip on your hair. “See? You do as I ask, no harm done.”

You whimper around him as his eyes slide shut, allowing himself to feel you around him as he rocks his hips into you.

“Such filthy head from a filthy whore. If I gave you enough incentive you’d probably let me buy and sell you like fucking cattle to the rest of the faculty, baby.”

He eases your head off his cock, spit clinging to the tip. He slaps the head against your lips wetly before rubbing it over the heated skin of your cheek and then poises it back at your mouth.

“And you know what the best part is?” He smirks as he bends over, using his grip on your hair to tilt your face up to him. “That wasn’t even the dean.”

The surprise on your features is still evident as he thrusts back into your mouth with a grunt, using you to fulfill his pleasure.

“Down on your knees, whoring yourself over an empty phone line. How does that make you feel, sweetheart?” He asks, fully aware your ability to answer is being hindered by his own doing. His own cock stretching your lips and stuffing your mouth.

His head presses into the back of his cushioned chair as he invades your mouth, his jaw hanging open as he thrusts and mutters in Spanish, “Sucia puta. Así.”

The closer he gets, the harder he grabs at your scalp, pressing you down into his lap. He finally comes with a prolonged groan and a flurry of Spanish you don’t quite catch. He doesn’t warn you, just shoots every drop of himself into your overflowing mouth and straight down your throat, forcing you to swallow.

You cough as he releases you, falling onto your hands and knees and wiping all manner of fluid from your face with your sleeve. He’s the picture of bliss above you, panting with a smug smile teasing his lips.

“You’re fucking sick. Out of your fucking mind,” You grit out at him.

He shrugs, balancing his elbows on his thighs. “And you’ll keep doing what I say, when I say it, until I decide I’m done with you.”

Your eyes mist over as the thought of your new normal trickles through your brain. “Why are you doing this to me? Like, truly, why?” You plead.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he placates, cupping your jaw in his hand and looking deep into your eyes with the most devastating quasi-sympathy from his endless molten brown ones.

“Because I can.”

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saltwatergirl6 · 1 month

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Good morning, a request please from Percy x reader (siblings, not romance) How does Percy react if he discovers that he has a younger twin?His sister was stolen as a baby and grew up in Camp Half-Blood,What will Sally do when she sees her daughter again after so long?

saludos desde la cabaña 3 🐬🐙

faraway reflections

pairing: percy jackson x jackson!reader (platonic)

a/n: i absolutely love this request, i hope it’s something you actually enjoy. 🤍

wc: 1.6k

the lord of the sky has made many mistakes in his godly immortal life, especially one of them always stood out. the name of the mistake was

thalia grace.

after the second world war, the oath of not having demigod children has been made and has not been broken for decades, the children were terribly powerful and caused trouble to the universe multiple times, so not having them was the only solution to cause less destruction and war.

zeus was the first to break the oath, for which he received quite the backlash from his elder brothers, hades and poseidon. meaning that his demigod child (which he didn’t have much care for) was constantly in danger by the two major gods.

but turns out that poseidon was next, when he met a woman who changed him for the better, breaking the oath didn’t seem to be much of a problem for him.

but there wasn’t one demigod child.

there was two.

twins, a girl and a boy, which caused much more problems than one could have.

the king of olympus didn’t take this lightly, he decided to get his revenge by doing the worst, separating the twins, but poseidon insisted on keeping the younger twin alive, but the punishment was to sally jackson, the woman poseidon fell in love with.

sally never got to know her daughter, it was told that she didn’t make it, only her son did.

but she was very much alive and safe, in camp half-blood.

when percy turned 12, the monsters started appearing more often, which meant that it was time for him to finally visit the place that sally has tried to keep him from, camp half-blood.

——————————————————————————

there weren’t many greek demigod children who didn’t have a childhood or some sort of time outside camp half-blood, but you were a special coincidence.

you were basically born and raised in camp half-blood, without a clue on who any of your parents were.

when you got to the age where you could understand such a devastating story, chiron told you that your mother died in childbirth and your father was unknown to everyone.

the guilt you carried was not something an ordinary 12 year old girl should’ve experienced, but like the brave girl you were, you sucked it up, not wanting to show a single sign of weakness to the ares kids who have despised you for quite a while.

percy jackson always wondered what life would be like if his twin sister had survived, if he had someone who was experiencing the same thing as him, life would’ve been so much easier for him.

poseidon, lord of the sea, the earthshaker, the mighty major god has never experienced such guilt in his life. some might say gods are absent of any emotion, but being alive for such a long time has made it much easier to hide their emotions well.

but seeing his little girl silently cry in the hermes cabin every night has broken his heart.

but everything changed the night that sally, percy and grover were driving to long island.

“wait so, my dad is like, one of those guys you told me about? like a greek god?” percy asked curiously, still not believing it.

neither sally or grover answered anymore.

“uh, i don’t think i’m supposed to say this because a certain god might zap me to death, but i have something big to confess.” grover randomly blurted out.

“today can not get crazier, so go ahead.” percy answered, still freaked out about how much has happened that day.

“so percy had a twin sister, right?”

“uh, how do you know that?” percy asked.

“she’s alive, i think.” grover said, trying to form sentences so the bomb he just dropped on the mother and son wouldn’t sound as crazy.

sally stopped the car, grover and percy hit their heads to the backseat.

“excuse me?!” sally yelled out.

“her name is y/n, the only thing chiron actually told me about her is that her last name is jackson and she’s 12 years old, she has been at camp like since birth, i think. ms jackson, keep driving, please.” grover explained, casually.

shock was written on sally jackson’s face, she decided not to say anything, maybe this girl was a coincidence, her baby girl couldn’t be alive, she was gone, but a spark of hope was planted in sally’s heart, her dreams of not losing her daughter were somewhat possible again.

that was before she got turned into dust in the hands of the minotaur.

_______________________________________________

percy woke up into a random room with a lot of beds in it, the room had the aura of the sun, somehow, everything was decorated in warm tones, except for the comforting light blue sheets on every bed, a girl was standing in the doorway, staring at him.

she had the same black hair as him, her sea green eyes were focused on his, she looked like him.

she slowly walked up to him.

suddenly every memory flashed all at once, greek gods, long island, grover being half-a-donkey, the minotaur, his mother.

oh, and his sister being apparently alive.

“hey, i’m y/n.” you said softly, in a comforting voice, instantly calming him down.

“where am i?” percy asked, confused.

“camp half-blood’s infirmary, wait, did your satyr fill you in on this place?” you asked, slightly worried that you’d scare him away.

“the whole olympian god thing? kind of, yeah.” percy responded, it still felt like a fever dream, and the fact that he was talking to his twin sister for the first time in his entire life didn’t make it easier.

“i’m sorry about your mom, by the way.” you looked at him with genuine support in your eyes.

“our mom.” percy corrected.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m your brother, percy jackson.” percy said, extending his hand for you to shake, he felt bad to drop this all on you, but you had to find out from him, not from anyone else.

“that-, that’s not possible, i don’t have a brother, i don’t have a family, no one.” you were in denial, after 12 years, without a sign of family, this was gonna happen? it wasn’t possible.

“i’m sorry you had to find out this way, but you had to know somehow, grover told me about you being alone for all these years, it isn’t fair to you.” percy flashed a smile to you, but your sweet reunion was interrupted by chiron, camp half-blood’s activities director and your best friend, annabeth chase.

“good morning, percy, i see you’ve met your sister.” chiron said, in a casual voice, as if this whole thing wasn’t the craziest thing you’ve heard in your entire crazy life.

“mr brunner, what? you’re a horse.” right. percy was new here, he had no clue, you remembered that right now.

“a centaur, my boy, you can call me chiron.” he corrected, not feeling offended at all. “now, i think you two should sit down for this.”

______________________________________________

a few days have passed, you and percy have gotten claimed at the same time after bullying clarisse and her brothers just like she had tried to bully you two in capture the flag. it was slightly sad that percy had gotten claimed within the first week of being here, but you had to wait your whole life.

it all fell into pieces, poseidon was your father and now you were going on a quest, because apparently you and your brother stole the most powerful weapon in the universe.

maybe zeus should’ve hid it better? besides, you were never known to be sneaky.

______________________________________________

after the most exhausting summer of your 12 years of life, you were going home.

you never had a place to call home, aside from camp half-blood, you didn’t have your mother waiting for you to come back from summer camp, but now you do.

your mother, sally jackson, saved herself from the underworld, she was probably just as amazing as percy and your father, (who you finally spoke to, by the way) described her to be.

it was never in your nature to be mad at someone for long, so you quickly understood your father’s reasonings on why you were cast out of your family, even though the beginning of your life wasn’t great, percy promised to make it better in the future, with a welcoming family and no smelly gabe. (he was quite jealous that you never got to experience life with smelly gabe.)

“are you sure she’ll like me? what if she thinks i’m too weird to be her daughter, i mean… dad called her a queen.” you ask for the millionth time, feeling doubtful as you waited by thalia’s tree.

everyone knew thalia grace’s story, the brave hero who sacrificed herself for her friends, who still protected every demigod even if she was dead, even though some didn’t admit it, everyone aspired to be what thalia was, a true hero.

maybe our definition of heroes were a completely different thing, but thalia still was someone to remember.

_______________________________________________

there she was, your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, standing with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

you couldn’t help but tear up and by the looks of it, she couldn’t either.

“my baby.” she said softly as she pulled you into a tight hug, like if she let go, you’d get lost again.

“hey mom.” you whispered.

“uh, guys, i’m here too.” you laughed, a genuine, happy laugh escaped your mouth.

you were ready for this. a new life, even with all those dangerous quests coming up, you knew you’d be way more powerful with your family, a loving mother and the most amazing (annoying) brother you could ask for.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #frank zhang x reader #connor stoll x reader #travis stoll x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x poseidon!reader #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus #jason grace

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padfootagain · 5 months

Text

Home for Christmas

Hi everyone! Here is a cute fic for Christmas! I hope all of you who celebrate have a great time <3

Hope you like this silly little fic! Tell me what you think of it!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none! It’s just cute fluff!!

Summary: Andrew is touring at the moment, and his busy schedule will keep him away for the Christmas season. Or at least, that’s what you thought would happen. That was without counting on how much he missed you.

Word Count: 2390

Hozier's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

24 December.

It’s midday and it’s raining. Against the window panes, the rain falls in a patted rhythm, adding to the soft voice of Ella Fitzgerald, a warmth that lulls you into a gentle sway. Around you, dispersed across the carpet, are a set of gifts, wrapping paper, some tape and glitter. You’re wrapping up presents for Christmas, ready to be delivered on Christmas morning throughout your relatives and friends. It makes for a rather tall pile, as you look at all the work you have left. You’re about half-way through, so you gather your courage in a sigh and get back to work, grabbing a box and some paper and trying your best at turning the whole thing into what vaguely resembles a gift.

On your left, you have set the presents that are already wrapped in red and golden paper. Three of these are for Andrew, and you’re quite proud of what you’ve found for him this year. Your gaze lingers on the items, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips as you think of him… but you end up looking away in a hurry.

He won’t be home for Christmas this year. His touring schedule won’t allow it. If he’s in Europe, he’s currently trying to catch a few hours of sleep in a hotel room in Vienna.

You’ve thought about joining him on tour for a few days, but you wanted to see your family at Christmas. Besides, the look your mother gave you when you mentioned the idea was enough to make you abandon the thought altogether. She looked too sad for you to go ahead with it. You guessed you would simply have to miss your boyfriend this year.

You aren’t angry or bitter about it, though. It comes with dating a musician. There are moments when he isn’t around, and that’s alright. He makes up for it when he comes home, or when you can join him for a few days. Still, as you glance over at his gifts, knowing that they will remain unopened until mid-January, you can’t help the tug at your heart that thought brings.

You grab your phone as an act of revenge, snapping a pic of the three gifts, and sending them to Andrew.

Your gifts are ready! And as I’m an awful girlfriend, you won’t get any clue to guess what they are until you open them in a month!

You add a few emojis to tease him some more, and wait for the phone to buzz while you go back to work. You’ve got glitter on your fingers, it’s all over the beige carpet too. You don’t mind so much, though.

Your Christmas tree is glimmering on the right side of the room, you’ve turned its lights on to get into a festive mood. You have a cocoa on the coffee table, and a bag of marshmallows as a snack. But despite the music, you can’t help but notice how silent the house is.

No humming, no guitar, no voice lost in conversation with you about the most random topic. No padding steps going back and forth across the living room, no curses after hitting the angle of a table, no clutter made in the kitchen to make something as simple as tea. There’s nothing but Ella’s singing, the rain, and the sharp sound of your scissors cutting the wrapping paper, the quick tug at tapes…

Your phone buzzes, and you drop everything to reach for it. A laughing emoji appears under the name Andy, followed by a short text.

How mean! An awful girlfriend indeed.

A pause, some little dots appearing as he writes another message.

I’m worse though.

You shake your head as you type.

Nah! You’re all good. It will only take some extra chocolate to make me forgive you, that’s all. The worst is being abandoned for gift-wrapping. I’m terrible at it.

You’re too focused on the screen to notice any sound coming from outside, like a car-door closing.

I don’t have chocolate. Opted for flowers instead. Hope that works too.

You giggle at that, failing to hear footsteps before your door.

You still have a month to get the right thing.

You jump as you hear keys unlocking the front door. Frowning, you finally stand. Andrew’s parents have a set of keys, just in case, but they’ve never used them. And why would they when you’re here?

You’ve barely reached the hallway that the door opens… on a very tall figure you recognise in an instant. You gasp at the sight, hands flying up to your mouth.

Andrew, on his part, is grinning like an idiot, soaked despite the small distance he had to cross from the cab to the front door. The rain is still heavy, falling on the bouquet of flowers he’s carrying.

He barely has time to step in, throw a travel bag across the hall, and find shelter in your home that you’re jumping into his arms, and he laughs as he catches you with ease. He hasn’t closed the door yet, the air is cold as it sips into the hallway, but you pay no attention to it. You don’t care either about the fact that your clothes are getting wet against his drenched coat, that your fingers run through wet locks as you pull him closer, that his face is cold as you kiss, at long last, for what seems like forever. But then again, you’ve been waiting to see him for weeks, months even… you can’t be blamed for being eager to catch up on lost time.

“Hey,” he breathes as you finally pull away, although he keeps you in his arms.

Rubbing his nose against yours, your eyes are still closed. His voice is a bit deeper than usual in this whispered tone, and it makes shivers travel up your spine, makes your heart melt in a puddle.

“Hi,” you grin against his lips, stealing pecks there. “What are you doing here?!”

“You didn’t think I would really miss Christmas, did you?”

“But your shows…”

“I have nothing until the 26th. I’m not staying here long, just a couple of days. But I’m home for Christmas, at least.”

You hug him as close as you can, still too much in shock to truly believe that he is here, that this is happening, that he truly is home…

“I thought you couldn’t travel back here, that the flights didn’t fit the schedule.”

“I haven’t slept in 27 hours, but aside from that, it all went well,” he laughed, but you frowned at his statement.

“You couldn’t sleep on the plane?”

He blushes a little, averts his eyes for a second, before looking at you again.

“No, no…” he shakes his head, sounding a little embarrassed but smiling all the same. “I just… I was too excited to see you. Couldn’t fall asleep.”

You coo at him, making him wince as he finally puts you down.

“Oh, don’t start…” he warns you, but you love teasing him too much for that.

“You wanted to see me too much! You’re so cute!”

“I did fly all the way across Europe to see you, remember?”

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re hooked, buddy!”

You both laugh at that, but his smile grows tender as he reaches to brush his thumb across your cheek.

“Don’t I know that already…” he states, and again, the warm feeling spreads across your entire form, a perfect balance of happiness, fondness, and love.

He finally hands you the bouquet, and you breathe in the perfect scent: sweet and addictive, making you dizzy for a moment.

“So… no chocolate,” you tease, and Andrew struggles not to laugh, his smile tugging at his lips.

“No, I’m afraid not. The flowers will have to do.”

You hum, as if pondering.

“You’re lucky they’re so pretty,” you add, and he breaks into a cheeky grin.

“Not as pretty as you, though.”

You laugh, walking to the kitchen to give your flowers a vase and some water.

“Lousy line!”

“It was a masterpiece, are you kidding? That timing! Delivery!”

“And he pretends he’s a poet…”

You both laugh, Andrew has followed you after leaving his coat, scarf and shoes by the door. He wraps his arms around your waist, unwilling to be parted from you even for a minute, chasing after your warmth like a moth to a flame.

He drops a kiss to the top of your head.

“I pretend to be a musician, not a poet.”

“Considering your lyrics, you are a poet.”

You feel him grinning into your hair.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and you know he’s blushing without seeing his coloured cheeks.

“Thank you for the flowers, I love them.”

“Next time, I’ll get you chocolate. I promise.”

“I was just joking. You didn’t have to get me anything. I was happy enough to simply have you here.”

You turn in his arms to face him, gently pull on the collar of his green cardigan until his lips meet yours, and that’s the best feeling in the world, really, to be there in his arms, to feel his heart against your palm…

But as you look up at him again, you notice the dark traces under his eyes, the heaviness in his eyelids. He looks exhausted, and if he always does when he’s touring, he seems to be barely being able to stand. For proof, he’s leaning more and more against you as he hugs you tight.

Gently, soothingly, you rub his back, and you don’t fail to notice the sigh he lets out, his body relaxing under your hands.

“We still have a few hours before heading to your parents’ house for the evening. Want to take a nap?”

“Only if you come with me.”

“I have to finish preparing all the gifts…”

“We can do that in the morning. We can even just hand them without any wrapping…”

“No! We’re doing this properly!”

“Tomorrow then.”

You yield easily, nodding.

“Alright. You go and dry your hair while I prepare some hot chocolate, and then we cuddle and take a nap. Deal?”

He grins.

“Deal!”

He kisses you again, passionate and overwhelming and leaving you dizzily blinking; before he disappears upstairs to change out of his wet clothes and get dry.

Meanwhile, you’ve prepared some warm beverage for him and go grab your own mug in the living room. You abandon the gifts for now, climb upstairs and under the covers to wait for Andrew.

You’re grinning at the thought of him joining you, and your smile only brightens when he actually does, clumsily hurrying to the bed.

He slips under the covers, on his side of the bed, the one you’ve been staring at for entire nights, feeling the empty space of his absence. He’s barely settled in that you’re already reaching for him. He takes the hand you’re holding out, kissing your knuckles before placing it against his heart.

He takes a few sips of his warm beverage, complimenting your creation before lying down fully with you, tucking you both in, making sure you’re both fully covered by the heavy blankets. You lie there together for a long time, legs tangled to the point that borders between his body and yours disappear, on your sides so you can stare at each other, bathe in the presence of the person you love most in the world, in the warmth of this home you share, this bed that feels empty when you’re not both here.

A few minutes are all that’s needed for the bed to be filled with the warmth of your entwined bodies, and you relax as you shuffle even closer, arms wrapped around his torso. He holds you close, his large palm rubbing circles into your back that make you close your eyes. He rests his forehead against yours, closes his eyes as well.

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers, his voice quiet and soft in the gentle air of the room, the one disturbed only by your shared breaths, the tapping of the rain, and the occasional movements of your limbs under the covers. “I needed this. Needed to hold you close… you can’t imagine how much I needed this.”

You tighten your hold on him, an attempt to silently tell him that you understand, that you need him too, just as much.

“I’ve missed you too, honey,” you breath, your tone matching his. “So much. I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Only for a couple of days…”

“I don’t care. You’re here, now. That’s all I care about. I might not think the same in a couple of days when I cry my eyes out at the airport but…”

You chuckle together, and he kisses the tip of your nose as a reward.

“Same here,” he mumbles as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply your scent, the one he tries to get drunk on, to commit to memory so he can reminisce later, once he’s alone again at night in some hotel room.

“Thank you. For coming home to me. Thank you, Andy.”

But he chuckles, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“I did it for myself as much a I’ve done this for you, you know.”

“I bet everyone in the band was tired of you complaining all the time,” you laugh, and he does the same.

“Alex was this close from kicking me out of the bus.”

You double with laughter, and yet keep on holding onto each other just as tightly, unwilling to ever let go again.

“I bet he was!”

He nuzzles into your neck, kisses the skin at the base of your shoulder, making your heart skip beats and your breathing stutter. His beard tickles your skin, and you’re certain you’ve been transported to heaven.

“I love you,” you whisper into his hair, kissing every inch you can reach. You feel his grin against your neck.

“I love you, too. So much, darling.”

You forget to set up an alarm, and when you both fall asleep a few minutes later, you’re too comfortable to wake up. You arrive late at Andrew’s parents’, but they can’t pretend to be mad. They’re too happy to have their son for Christmas, and you feel the same.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #the hoziest #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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jayflrt · 2 years

Text

strawberry lemonade

❝ praying mantises sound a lot more peaceful than listening to reenactments of fifty shades of grey every other night. ❞

PAIRING ▸ park jongseong x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut (minors dni), crack, college au, lowkey pwp but there is plot sorry this was just the jay brainrot acting up

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sex, slight exhibition kink, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), praise & degradation, pet names because i am a weak woman, sunghoon (fun guy) collects preying mantises??

SUMMARY ▸ you and jay park are bound by fate; or, rather, you're bound by your respective roommates who have obnoxiously loud sex every other night. it's only a matter of time until you give them a taste of their own medicine.

or, revenge is best served with a strawberry lemonade lollipop.

WORD COUNT ▸ 3,482 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lolly by maejor, juicy j, justin bieber • high off you by alayna • candy by doja cat • kickin’ back by mila j

TAG LIST ▸ @msxflower @fiantomartell @baekhyunstruly @mykalon @heelariously @hobistigma @simplyxlea @wntrsgf @person-standing @ja4hyvn @dnyamight @candidupped @shmooooo @pr0dbeomgyu @sunshine-skz @hiqhkey @kp0p10v3r2 @baekhyuns-lipchain @jagyuuar

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ the first modern lollipop was created in 1908. it has been an uneventful 114 years of its creation until a video spread yesterday of park jongseong sucking on one. as a result, user jayflrt woke up in a cold sweat to write this in one sitting.

IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT.

You were currently reporting a criminal (Kim Minjeong) to the authorities (Lee Heeseung).

To be fair, you weren’t actually reporting your roommate to your apartment floor’s resident advisor. She was at her boyfriend’s apartment today, and you were just venting your frustration from the previous night.

Heeseung was just someone you complained to about these things, but never with the intention of getting anyone in trouble. You knew he was good at keeping secrets, so, unless you said otherwise, he wouldn’t confront the people causing problems. (This, of course, went against his sole responsibility as an RA, but people let that slide because he had a pretty face and baked cookies for everyone on Saturdays.)

You got along with Minjeong very well, actually. Although you two were randomly paired together, you clicked the moment you met in the beginning of the school year. You got locked out of your apartment the first night, and when you texted Minjeong for help, she ended up getting locked out, too. The both of you waited until dawn to get a replacement key, and it marked the beginning of a strong friendship.

The only issue was that Minjeong recently started dating Jake Sim, who happened to be your neighbor. In the first few weeks of school, your entire floor mingled and socialized a lot, so you got along very well with the people around you. Jake and Minjeong seemed to hit it off really well, so it was no surprise that they ended up dating.

However, what was surprising was your roommate’s ability to moan at such high volumes every other night.

“Maybe you should confront her about it,” Heeseung offered. It was a stupid suggestion; you were going to kill him.

“I’ve tried!” you whined. “She said she would be quieter and soundproof her room. Guess what? Egg cartons aren’t doing me any favors!”

“I would not wanna have sex in a room full of egg cartons.”

Before you could retort, there was a knock at Heeseung’s door. You looked at him quizzically. Heeseung was terrible at job, so it didn’t make sense for anyone to actually come for help. When he opened the door, though, it all made sense.

Jake’s roommate and your group therapy partner, Jay Park.

In the beginning of the year, you and Jay didn’t get to talk much. You, of course, took notice of him (because it was hard to ignore good-looking men), but neither of you made the effort to become friends. He intimidated you at first, and it was probably because of his sharp features and piercing gaze. The only things that softened his image for you were his classic strawberry lemonade Jolly Rancher lollipops. He should seriously be sponsored by the company; you had seen him sucking on the candy at least once a day.

Naturally, you two got closer after your respective roommates started seeing each other. This wasn’t because you naturally gravitated toward each other or anything. You both would just find yourselves running to Heeseung’s room to complain about your situations, and you both developed mutual sympathy.

It was fun getting to hang around Jay, though. If you had a second chance, you would have tried to actively befriend him before, but you weren’t mad with how things ended up.

“You know, I should’ve fucking roomed with Sunghoon instead,” Jay spat, storming into Heeseung’s room with an unwrapped strawberry lemonade Jolly Rancher lollipop in his fist. He angrily tore the wrapper off and shoved it into his mouth. “One minute I’m writing my history paper, and next I hear the second coming of Christ from Jake’s room. Do those two have the sex drive of bonobos?”

(“You’ve been watching Planet Earth again, haven’t you?” you inquired, recalling him watching rerun episodes in the common room while he was high off his ass.

Jay shot you a glance. “None of your business, Y/N.”)

“I thought you said you would rather die than room with Sunghoon,” Heeseung said.

You frowned. “Park Sunghoon? What’s wrong with him?”

“He collects praying mantises,” Jay explained. “Fun guy, but it’s a bit terrifying.”

“Praying mantises sound a lot more peaceful than listening to reenactments of Fifty Shades of Grey every other night,” you muttered. “Is Sunghoon taking roommate applications?”

“You guys just need to drive them out or something,” Heeseung suggested. “Maybe give them a taste of their own medicine.”

The three of you fell silent for a moment, processing Heeseung’s words.

If you were understanding him correctly, there was a clear sexual undertone in his words—hell, it was hardly considered an undertone with how overt it sounded. You weren’t sure what Jay was thinking about, but Heeseung’s suggestion led you to think of you and Jay having obnoxiously loud sex to get back at your roommates. The very thought made your cheeks burn.

You were 100% sure that Jay would not be on board with this idea. It was absurd to even think about having sex with him for the sake of leveling out the playing field. Plus, you would be crazy if you thought that Jay would want to sleep with you in the first place.

This was when you deemed it proper to obliterate Lee Heeseung.

“That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” you replied.

“Heeseung, you’re a genius,” Jay said at the same time.

So maybe you and Jay were not, in fact, on the same page.

You both looked at each other, both confused for different reasons. You were gaping at him like an idiot, and he was looking at you like you were crazy for refusing. Heeseung, meanwhile, was just glad that his suggestion was 50% accepted.

“D-doesn’t that mean we’d have to, um… have sex?” you asked, trying your best not to stammer as you spoke.

Jay laid his cards out flat. “We have fake sex.”

Now, you and Heeseung were completely lost. You being confused was one thing, but Heeseung being confused about his own plan was another thing.

“Fake sex?” Heeseung spoke up. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of what Jay was saying before he shook his head. “You know what? Nevermind. You two should leave and figure it out yourselves. I’d rather not be part of this conversation, so go decide amongst yourselves if you’re gonna have… fake sex, or chill with Sunghoon’s preying mantises or whatever.”

“C’mon, you don’t wanna hear about our faux sexcapade?” Jay teased, but Heeseung was already pushing you two out the door. “I guess that’s a no,” he said as the RA closed the door on their faces. Jay turned back to you with newfound confidence. “So, fake sex!”

You raised a brow, staring at his lips because you were a whore. He was so close that you could detect the faint scent of his strawberry lemonade lollipop.

“What exactly does fake sex entail?”

“You know, pretending we’re having sex so that they get the message and start shutting the fuck up,” Jay explained. “All you have to do is moan like you’re having the time of your life.”

Jay’s room was a few doors down the hall. You two were far too close to actually putting this plan into action. You hated admitting it, but it was actually a solid plan; you were sure that Minjeong and Jake would get the message if they experienced what it was like to be in your shoes. Plus, they were in Jake’s room right now, so it was the perfect opportunity for you and Jay to teach them a lesson.

You didn’t have any reason to say no. There was nothing cheesy holding you back like the fear of ruining your friendship with Jay. In fact, you had always thought Jay was insanely attractive, especially when he was sucking on that lollipop of his. Even though this was a sham, you were probably being given the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Are you totally sure about this?” you asked. “You really think they’re gonna be quieter if we do this?”

“I’m positive.”

This was the stupidest idea of your life. You supposed it didn’t matter, though, considering you were pretty stupid anyway.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Let’s do it.”

After more discussion and preparation for your scheme, you and Jay found yourselves in his room thirty minutes later. You had never been with him in his room alone before, and it was a little pathetic that your first time visiting was to partake in a fake sex ploy. His room was surprisingly neat and tidy, though, but you realized that it was probably because Jake always nagged him to clean.

Just as you thought, the muffled sounds from Minjeong and Jake were audible as they were a wall away. You were genuinely impressed that their stamina didn’t let up. It had been a long time since you had hooked up with someone, but you were certain you wouldn’t be able to last that long.

When you looked at Jay, he gave you a silent gesture to commence the plan.

You balked, feeling embarrassed already. Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves. You had to commit to the role if you wanted to succeed. You weren’t sure if you could take yourself seriously, but, willing your voice not to go shaky, you let out an exaggerated cry.

“Oh, Jay!” you moaned out. “You’re so fucking big!”

“Chill. You sound like a Euphoria character.”

“I have to Maddy Perez it up if I want them to take the hint!” you whispered back, harsher than you intended, but Jay received the message well.

“F-fuck! You’re so wet.” Jay’s voice broke at the end, immediately covering his face with his hand. You snorted, trying not to break into a fit of laughter, and Jay shot you a threatening look. He was failing miserably, though, because his face was completely red. “God, you’re so… tight?” Jay groaned into his hands. “I’m gonna kill myself.”

“Louder,” you instructed. “Bolder.”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It was your idea!” You tutted and got on top of his bed, kneeling on one of the pillows. “Watch this: Jay—oh!—you’re so fucking hot! Keep fucking me like that!”

The plan was definitely working. You were hearing less sounds from Jake’s room, and their moans were definitely dying down. When you looked back at Jay to see if he understood your little lesson, you were surprised to see that he was redder than ever.

“You know, I think you’re better at this than I am,” Jay said, “even if you do sound kind of stupid.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed. “You have to milk the performance to get them to shut up, you know?” You turned back to face the wall that separated Jay and Jake’s room, crying out, “Fuck! Jay, give it to me!”

“You sound so fake.”

You scowled. ��You’re not even helping!”

“You want my help?” Jay hummed, walking over to you. “Yeah, let’s make this act more believable.”

Before you could respond, Jay slid his hand between your legs and started rubbing the apex of your shorts. You gasped at the sudden contact, feeling your knees buckle under you. Jay slid his free arm around your waist and slid his hand under your shirt to feel you up. Even with his thumb planted on your clothed clit, you were still trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

“Why’re you so quiet all of a sudden?” Jay asked. “Shouldn’t you be moaning? Keep it going, Y/N. You were so good at sounding like such a slut earlier.”

You were getting more and more wet, and you were sure Jay noticed it, too. His rubbing turned from teasing to fervent, and before you knew it, he had pushed you down on his bed and started pulling down your shorts. Well, rather, you started taking them off yourself and let him help you.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, gripping your thighs as he eyed the thin fabric of your underwear. “You’re the star actress here, so you decide. Fingers or mouth?”

You eyed the strawberry lemonade lollipop that was still in his mouth. “Both?”

Jay chuckled. “You really are needy, aren’t you?”

Taking the sweet out of his mouth, he placed it on top of the wrapper on his desk. You thought he would just throw the whole thing away, but you supposed your neighbor didn’t like being wasteful.

Jay practically tore your underwear off, immediately planting his thumb on your clit and rubbing small, precise circles around the ball of nerves. You were whimpering under his touch, screwing your eyes shut when he bent down to lick a long stripe along your folds.

He pulled away to plunge two fingers into your soaking cunt, pleased with how your walls were contracting around his digits. Although, Jay was still unsatisfied by your lack of volume, so he started sucking on your clit as he scissored his fingers inside of you.

“O-oh my god—fuck!” you cried out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth right after a moan tore itself from your throat. Closing your eyes, you continued to let out muffled moans with your hand blocking the sounds.

Jay was clearly not satisfied with this.

He pulled away with a sigh, tearing you away from the building orgasm that was yet to release. You felt a bit angry when it dissipated, shooting Jay a dirty look. All he did, though, was smirk at your reaction, and that made you feel more flustered.

You supposed it was his way of making it up to you, but Jay ducked his head down to move in for a kiss. He sealed his lips over yours, kissing you slowly and deepening it with each passing second. It grew more hot, languid, and messy, and your tongues were both desperately sliding against each other.

His lips were so warm and soft against yours. It was if you were under a spell when they were pressed to yours, making you lose all sense of control. All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and draw him closer. You threw your leg around his hip, aching for more contact, more friction.

When Jay pulled back for air, he chuckled lowly. “What’d that taste like?” he asked.

You licked your lips before answering shyly, “Strawberry lemonade.”

He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower and more passionate. You closed your eyes and held his cheek as his lips moved in perfect unison with yours. You had been kissed before, but never like this. Something about Jay was so intoxicating in the very way he carried himself, and now, you felt weak at his very touch.

He pulled away to ghost his lips down the column of your neck. “Want me to fuck you?”

You whined, tugging at the front of his shirt. Every nerve in your body was screaming for him to just touch you all over and split you apart.

“That’s not enough, doll.” He mocked a pout, feigning sympathy. “Use your words. You were all talk before I started touching you, hm? What happened to that?”

“Jay,” you whimpered.

“Yes?”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” he mocked, grinning at you. “Bolder.”

You whined. “Just fuck me already!”

Seemingly satisfied, Jay started unbuttoning his pants, yanking them down and kicking them off from where they pooled at his ankles. You sat up to peel off your shirt as he scoured through his nightstand for condoms. When he found one, he used his teeth to open the wrapper, taking the rubber out and sliding it onto his cock with a few pumps.

He was nothing short of impressive. You were already weak at the sight of his rippling abs and the mouthwatering size of his cock. His ego was inflating higher and higher when he caught sight of you drooling over him.

“Lay down,” he instructed. “You asked me to give it to you earlier, so you’re gonna take every single inch of me.”

Your heartbeat was going crazy—both of them.

When you were flat on his bed, Jay got over you and started pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone. You whimpered, sliding your hand into his hair for leverage, but that hardly helped when he slipped his hand under your bra to grope your chest.

He pulled his hand away to reach behind you, undoing the clip of your bra with one snap. You were honestly jealous; you couldn’t even undo your own bra that quickly.

Once you discarded your bra, tossing it to the floor along with the rest of your clothes, Jay started leaving hot kisses around your nipple. Then, he sucked on your hard nipple itself, leaving you a moaning mess while heat pricked your skin.

“You wet enough for me?” he mumbled against your skin.

You nodded, and oh god, you were dripping for him. “Please, please, please just give it to me.”

Jay pushed himself inside of you, and the simultaneous moans that fell from both of your lips was almost beautiful. He held your hips firmly and rubbed slow circles with his thumb as he eased himself inside of you, adjusting to the tight squeeze of your cunt. You cried at how tight you were, digging your nails into his back and burying your face in his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted. “For real, this time.” (You despised how he had to specify that.)

Jay bottomed out inside you, and the feeling of his cock filling you up left tears welling up in your eyes. Unexpectedly, Jay immediately wiped at your tears and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, whispering a sweet apology as he waited for you to adjust to his length.

“O-oh fuck—right there,” you begged once his cock hit that perfect spot right under your cervix.

“Here?” he asked, thrusting in and out of you to get to that sweet spot again.

There must be nothing Jay couldn’t do because he found it almost immediately, taking your choked sob as a sign that he struck gold. The bed creaked and shook as Jay tried to find a proper rhythm, and you were starting to forget your original reason for being here as you moaned and sobbed under him. His thrusts were so purposeful and precise, intending to make you see stars as he pinned you down and fucked you into the mattress.

You babbled something incoherent—something about how close you were, but you were sure Jay picked up on the message by how your legs were starting to shake.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he cooed into your ear, “give it to me.”

Your orgasm was blinding. The preamble of heat blooming under your skin was hardly enough to prepare you for the intense pleasure that started coursing through your body. You were drowning in a sea of molten lava, hardly able to ground yourself as Jay fucked you through your orgasm. He had to grip your hand to remind you that you were still with him, still in the bedroom in his apartment.

Your cunt must have been pulsing around his cock too tightly in the meanwhile because Jay reached his high, too, cumming inside you with a little groan. He sighed, relieved, and pulled out of you so that he could toss out the condom.

“You okay?” he asked, pushing your hair back when you seemed to have recuperated. “You were so, so good for me.”

“Do… do you think we were loud enough?” you asked in a small voice. This couldn’t be part of the act, but you were still scared that Jay would pretend nothing happened.

He snorted. “I think they left a long time ago when I actually started fucking you.” He shifted so that he was holding you in his arms, spooning you and letting his breath tickle your neck. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to make a move on you for a while now.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, but it was kinda hard when Heeseung was always there.”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Maybe you should stop talking about Sunghoon and his praying mantises. That’s not really an effective method to hit on a girl, you know?”

Jay cupped his hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” he silenced you. “I don’t wanna hear it from the girl who needs our incompetent RA to help her with her roommate problems.”

“You do the same thing!” you defended, though your voice was muffled.

“Like I said: shhh.” Jay chuckled. “Plus, now we can just go over to each other’s place when they decide to start going at it like rabbits.”

“You’re right,” you said once you pried Jay’s hand away. “I have one requirement, though.”

“What is it?”

“You’re sharing that strawberry lemonade lollipop next time.”

#enhypen imagines #jay imagines #jay smut #enhypen smut #jay x reader #enhypen hard hours #jay hard hours #enhypen oneshots #jay oneshots #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jay park #park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #jongseong smut #jongseong imagines #jay park x reader

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lurkingshan · 4 months

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Japanese QL Corner

I am currently watching four different Japanese qls every week (is this real life?? I’m not used to this kind of bountiful access to Japanese media) and I don’t want them to get lost in the shuffle amongst the bigger Discourse shows, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. These are all on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

Finally a high quality gl, we have been waiting so long. And this one is making some really interesting choices, namely in making one of its leads deeply unlikeable. It's clear that Harumoto broke her heart in a deeply foolish way (I smell noble idiocy), but Fuyu's revenge for her hurt feelings is way over the line of what anyone could consider fair. Not only did she pursue this job just to personally harass her ex, she is a terrible boss who is abusing her employees to work out her personal grudges, and she's awful to her husband, as well. This show is smart enough that I trust they have a point with this (likely one that will involve commentary on misogyny and traditional gender roles) so I am hanging in to see what it is.

Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun

This one is the latest in the Drama Shower line up, and it is really not working for me on the whole, but Toki is a great character and I wish I could port him to another show. This week's episode spent a baffling amount of time filling in a backstory for Sahara that we already understood, and didn't even connect it thematically to the ongoing plot in any meaningful way. In fact, given the backstory we saw, it made even less sense that Sahara would be encouraged to pursue a relationship with Toki. This show just feels very confused about both the social conventions of its universe and what it's ultimately trying to say. Looking forward to it wrapping next week and seeing what Drama Shower has on tap next.

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yara ka

I LOVE THIS SHOW. Sakae is such a kind soul, and Soga is a dear. I love that this show is exploring the reality of what it looks like for an "opposites attract" pair to actually try to find common ground. Sakae falling for Soga at first sight, only to realize they have nothing in common and he will have to work hard to build a bond with him, is such a delight. And I like that it feels reciprocal and Soga is also making a sincere effort. And this show is doing nice things with the side characters, too. Tatsuta is a great Get A Grip Friend for Sakae, and Kazuyo is such a sweetheart that I really hope she'll stick around rooting for this pair once she inevitably gets let down gently. Also loved getting a glimpse of the exes this week and hope to see more filled in there.

Ossan's Love Returns

I am saving this one for last on Fridays going forward, because it's such a great note to end my week on. I already posted last week about why I'm so in love with it, and this week continued the love fest. This show is SO FUCKING FUNNY while also having some really awesome messages about relationships and love at any age. I love the way Maki and Haruta are given the same cute couple moments we'd see for younger bl pairs, and the casual affection between them really stands out among more reserved depictions of Japanese couples. Highlights this week also included father-in-law bonding, Takegawa trying out a Bachelor-esque reality show in his quest for a diaper partner, Chief continuing to be an absolute delight in every scene, and several new twists in the mystery of the neighbors (loved that Haruta was having all the same reactions to that backstory that I was). ONSEN EPISODE NEXT WEEK, BABY!

#chaser game w #sahara sensei to toki kun #sukiyanen kedo do yaro ka #ossan's love returns #japanese bl #japanese gl #japanese ql corner #shan shouts into the void

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wangxianficfinder · 4 months

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Fic Finder

Jan 25th

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1. I'm begging to know if you have this fic. Years back, I read a fic where Wei Ying is exiled from the Lan clan and in the process becomes mute kind of (?) by choice. Years-ish later the Lan clan would beg him back to teach the juniors dark arts, and after something he would comply. It's a lot of Lan Zhan trying to apologize and Wei Ying not taking it afterwards, but I do believe it has a good ending. Do you perhaps know what this fic is? I've been trying to dig out the name for a month or so now. @sunshines-child

FOUND? Wei Ying's Destroyed Heart by Belladonna01234 (Wattpad)

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2. hi!!! im looking for a genderbend fic( i think ?) where wwx is set to marry jin guangyao (theyre each others beards) and lwj is the florist, or maybe the other way around. i didnt read it, i only remember those specific things bc of the tags and the summary, but most definitely one of them is the florist at the other's wedding, and they meet and such is life. thank you so much!!!

FOUND! Widow's Weeds by travelingneuritis (E, 18k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Gardens & Gardening, Wedding Planning, wedding thwartin, grich people are terrible, Light-Hearted, Smut, Gender Changes, Getting Together, offscreen deaths played for laughs, this is meant to be silly don't worry about it, Scheming, Plotting, wwx and jgy are accidentally-on-purpose bearding each other but i keep it PG, wwx running laps around the entire jin sect)

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3. Hello! I am looking for a fic which I am 90% sure is a WWX/LWJ fic, but there is a 10% chance it might be Keith/Shiro from Voltron (oops, ehe, if so please disregard this ask!). It is a modern au where WWX looks like a rough guy, maybe from a motorcycle gang, and LWJ is a lovely put together businessman. The office where LWJ works begins to notice their boss (LWJ) meeting with tattooed WWX and they think WWX might be up to no good! But WWX is actually a cop or fireman, and he just looks a bit like a road rat. They eat pastries together on their lunch break. Does this ring a bell? I have been looking for ages! Thank you!!!

3 is definitely a Voltron fic if the other blades of Marmora are Keith's fellow cops.

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4. Hi! For fic finder, there is a fic that i only read the summary and a snippet of the story. I didnt read that fic at first because it is not something i usually read, but now its haunting me. Its ice skating au. I think there are "madam yu bashing" In the tag (im not sure). And the snippet i read is NHS beat up WC in secluded place in revenge for WWX. There are no CCTV and NHS said to WC that no one will believe him that NHS beat him up. I know its short, but i really dont know the story. Thank you!

FOUND! enough, for me by doodlebutt (T, 1k, Modern AU) which takes place during chapter 7 of All the shine of a thousand spotlights (M, 60k, WangXian, Modern AU, figure skating, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Major Character Injury, Recovery, Getting Together, background relationships - chengqing; xuanli; xiyao, Background Pregnancy, the mortifying ordeal of Talking About Your Feelings, sexually tense pair skating, There Was Only One Bed)

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5. WWX and LZ are flabbergasted to see the other alive: WWX was burning paper money at LZ’s funeral as LZ died protecting him and LZ was attending WWX’s funeral as LZ failed to protect WWX during a nighthunt. The universe did some weird shit that merged the two timelines so now they’re both alive and with each other. I can’t find it anywhere @selena10180

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6. There was this fic, i don't remember, wwx was single and pregnant and his family (i think jiangs or wen? ) was with him? If u could find this fic and more like it?

FOUND? All I Want by Selenay (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, No Powers, Mpreg, Post Holiday Romance, Consequences, Reunions, Idiots in Love, Teacher WWX, Rating earned in later chapters, Handwavey Biology)

FOUND? Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink) could also be this

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7. hi!! im looking for an unfinished (as of when i read it at least!!) accidental baby acquisition fic where wwx drops a baby (lsz i believe!) off at lwjs door in the middle of the night and disappears — i know thats vague but i dont remember a lot of details? it was a lot of introspection and confusion on lwjs part, kind of OH SHIT i have to look after this baby now n wwx is vanished n idk whats going on. n to my memory in the next chapter or so wwx comes back and is still rlly weird n mysterious n frustrating abt the babys origins n theres wx vibes but lwj is real confused. sorry i dont have more detail but i really hope i can find it!!!

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8. Hi! :D I really hope you can help me find this fic! I have been looking for weeks! it's driving me nuts!

I remember that WWX doesn't die and LXC help him live hidden in CR using the identity of a Lan that has died, WWX is taking care of LWJ/is LWJ's servant, there is a scene where they are in Lanling (I think) and WWX has befriended some of the servants there, him and one? of them are talking about WWX's feelings for LWJ/if LWJ love WWX/or something like that, and then LWJ is there, I'm pretty sure they go somewhere else and confess to e/o

FOUND! Unbreakable Heaven, Luminous Earth by carolyncaves (M, 96k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Secret Identity, almost to the point of uncomfortable identity theft, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Suicidal Thoughts, that's for WWX after Nightless City and is not pervasive throughout the fic, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Power Imbalance, mainly between WWX and JGY in an entirely nonsexual manner, this isn't really a kid fic but the kids are there, as are some yunmeng sibling feelings, JYL lives, Not Everyone Dies AU, some COVID parallels, this is not a quarantine fic, but thematically WWX deals w things like face-covering for safety and loss of control, also assume all canon warnings, this AU is gentler than canon but isn't a complete fix-it)

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9. Hi hi! Thanks for your wonderful recommendations always! I’m looking for a wangxian fic where WWX has a breakdown in the lotus pier courtyard and the vibes are like “I’ve tried so hard for so long and for what; I can’t anymore; I’m so alone” and the Jiangs are like “… oh shit” and then treat him better after that and help him bear the burdens. (I can’t remember if WWX is a dragon also?) @vi-sky

#9 while the suggestion is great I don’t think this is the fix I was looking for. I don’t think the Jiangs find out about anything until WWX has the breakdown in the courtyard, and I think he kept it to himself for awhile as opposed to his breakdown being chapter 1 in the recommended.

NOT FOUND! 🧡 (Un)Hidden truth by Sarah_R (M, 198k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide attempt, Time Travel, Hurt/comfort, Angst, Self-Harm)

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10. Hello! I can't remember much details but I think lan zhan lands on an unfamiliar planet, there he meet wei ying. Wei ying appearance is different, his body i think is color pink? or blue or like galaxy (눈▽눈) I 'm not really sure but he is not human , also wei ying is shy at first and then warm up eventually. Wahh thank you in advance!

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11. Hello! For fic finder: I am trying to find a fic I read recently (within the last 6 months or so) where Wei Wuxian cultivates a resentful energy core but it was held outside his body in the Yin Tiger Tally. Lan Wangji doesn’t know that, so he convinces Wei Wuxian to give up the Tiger Tally as a gesture of peace. Everyone gathers around to watch and are horrified when as Wei Wuxian crushes the Tiger Tally in his hand and the Tally crumbles to dust, Wei Wuxian keels over in terrible agony at losing his core a second time. I think Wangji rushes over to help but Wen Qing pushes him away. It wasn't Decay by antebunny (although that is a good fic!!). Any thoughts? Thank you!

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12. hi I just remembered a fic in modern verse where Wei Ying boarded a flight that disappeared mid air and landed after 10+ yrs and Lan Zhan comes to pick up from the airport once he gets the news. I can't seem to find it can you please help and thanks for your efforts its bought me across many amazing fanfics

FOUND! 看客散去唯你我不忘 | the world forgets but i still remember you by prettyxianxian (T, 11k, wangxian, Modern, Flashbacks, POV Multiple, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives AU, Insecurities à la WWX, manifest au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Good Parent YZY, Good Parent JFM)

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13. Hello!! I'm looking for a fic that I was sure i had reblogged but now I can't find it anywhere 😔 It was on tumblr not ao3. LWJ is sex-cursed and he has to be touched by the person he loves. It was during the burial mound days and WWX is isolated from the cultivation world, and also LWJ refuses to ask him for help for that, he'drather die. LXC finds out and takes an unconscious LWJ to the burial mounds and gives him a day to tell WWX on his own or LXC will do it, and LWJ only agrees because he intends to run away before WWX finds out why he's there @kokobabee

FOUND! Tumblr Fic by @jingyismom

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14. Hello! I badly need help. I've been looking for this fic. I think it was like 5+1 or something where other people learn that Sizhui is Hanguangjun's son and that one time that Wei Wuxian did. I remember some of the 5+1 was a scene with a vendor, another scene with Ouyang-zongzhu in a nighthunt and I'm not sure if Jiang Wanyin was also one of them. But yeah, I've tried all keywords I could think of but I just can't find it. I hope you can help me. Thank you so much for all your efforts.

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15. Hello I am looking for a fic where the world agrees to not kill Wei Ying if he marries and dual cultivates with someone and it's LWJ @calamityisalve

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16. I am looking for a fic where wangxian invite the cultivation world to their wedding but wei wuxian and Lan shizui get badly hurt during the hunt before the wedding. The wedding is postponed and I think it had a scene where they fell down a waterfall? Please find it for me🙏

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17. Hiiii!!!! I’m looking for a Twitter thread fic about a Warprize Lwj ABO Au where he became a consort to wen zhuliu? I think it was him, anyway, he gave birth a-yuan but a-yuan was actually Wwx son. I remember there was quote retweeted art of the thread fic where Wwx was standing over a-yuan’s cradle.

If you actually manage to find it a million thanks!!! @silent-taco

FOUND? Twitter thread by @cerbykerby, art by @hellinglaozu

FOUND? 🔒 Poison series by Cy_an_Blue, NiceElsa (E, 30k, wangxian, Gods & Goddesses, God WWX, God LY, A/B/O, Alpha WWX, Omega LY, Pre-Relationship wangxian, Implied/Referenced Forced Marriage, Implied/Referenced Bottom LWJ, Omega LWJ, Alpha LXC, Married WangXian with kids, Dark, War Prize LWJ, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Not by WangXian, Adultery, Cheating, Threats of Violence, Threats of Child Abuse/Murder, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Gore, Smut, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Endgame Wangxian, Post Mpreg, post pregnancy, Protective LQR, Gūsū Lán Elders Bashing)

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18. Hello! I hope you can help me find this one, because I’m not having much luck; Wei Ying agrees to do what the sects want in exchange for the Lan sect taking in the Wen. He is basically imprisoned in the Unclean Realm and can’t practice demonic cultivation, and over time Nie Huaisand and Nie Mingjue start to warm up to him.

I think the one scene I remember most is a scene where Lan Huan asks Wei Ying if he can play for Nie Mingjue but Wei Ying says he can’t and admits that he has no golden core after making Lan Huan promise to keep it a secret. Hope this helps?

FOUND? Always walked a very thin line by tucuxi (T, 22k, WangXian, NHS & WWX, JYL & WWX, Depression, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Burn, Oblivious WWX, Golden Core Reveal, WWX Has No Golden Core, Chronic Pain, Chronic Illness)

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19. 你好! I've been looking for a fic with mute wei ying? (mute by choice, I believe). I cannot remember much, but I do remember that Wei Ying is exiled by the Gusu Lan clan, led by Lan Zhan himself. He's later called back to teach the juniors lessons on Demonic cultivation, where they found out after many years of choosing not to talk, he's kind of lost his voice. I don't know if you could find this fic, but it's been plaguing my brain for awhile now.

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20. Hi! Searching for a fic where omegaxian is the assistant physician of Wen Qing and then Emperor (not sure if emperor or just a prince) Alphaji want him immediately as his consort. Wen qing and other people protested and told alphaji that omegaxian is not available because he is only a physician.

I remember it being a threadfic in X (twitter)

Thank you so much

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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vitzi9 · 11 months

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I'll be patient, just for you.

Masterlist if you want to read my others things. Prequel of Patience is the key to sucess.

TW/CW: breaking in, voyeurism, ghostface

I feel like this is weird? Or cliché ? I can't tell but I don't really like it. (8/07/2023) (1678)

Ethan has always been a lonely man. Even in his own family, he wasn't loved. His father was talking about his lost son every hour of the damn day, his sister was too. Both of them had spent years trying to find the perfect revenge plan. It was the only thing in their mind. Their plan still wasn't finished yet and for the moment all he had to do was befriending some dumbs students for him to get closer to.

It was a long and boring process. Playing the embarrassed nerd every second, faking being insecure and everything. It was boring. Deadly so.

But it wasn't that much of a waste of time since it's then and there that he discovered his passion; killing and frightening people. In pair with lying. He always think: how many times can I lie to someone before they see it ? How big can my lie be and still pass ? It was his hobby now. The adrenaline he felt while taking the life of someone was exhilarating. He was Ghostface, now. It was beautiful !

So he joined a college and started to blend in. To others, he was the shy dorky nerd without friends, too stupid to hurt a fly. And it was perfect. Ethan was smart, incredibly so. And he was competitive. He was a genius and no one could challenge him, he was the first of every one of his classes. And if someone dared surpass him, he would get angry, really angry.

And no one was suspecting him, too ! Chad just wanted for him to get into a relationship, Tara, Anika and Sam weren't paying too much attention to him, sure Mindy found him weird but that was all.

His cover was perfect.

One day, paying attention to the lesson. He doesn't notice how his pen fell on the ground. Nor when you grabbed it for him. He felt someone tap on his shoulder. Turning his head, he's face to face with you.

You were plain, somewhat of a background character. You didnt't look like you'd be fun to play with, like you'd just cry if he'd chase after you. So he didn't really paid attention to you. Staying in his role, he smiles and thanks you. You smile back.

He didn't even know your name, in fact, he didn't know the name of the majority of people in the class. There were too much persons in this big room. He never noticed you, until now. Why were you seated beside him ? And when did you sit here ? One quick look at the room gave him the answer; there wasn't enough sits.

Chad nudges his side, Ethan moans from the pain. His roomate gives him a pointed look, smiling slyly. Ethan just shrugs. He was terribly annoying, not even funny. If he had any choice in the revenge plan of his father, this dumb guy would be his first victim. Seriously, his name is Chad ? What the hell ?

Ethan glances back at you briefly when he sees a pins on your pencil case; on it, the head of the puppet from the movies Saw. He was intrigued. He liked horror movie as well, and challenge even more. Saw could be really trash for some people, with physical and psychological horror. At first, it was just a game for him really.

He wanted to see how much time he needed to scare you off.

How much time he needed to make you cry, shake and beg for your life. He wanted to speedrun ruining you.

For that, he needed some material. Ethan was a theater kid at heart. He liked to make things dramatics. He grabbed a rope and a black spraypaint. That's all he needed for now. He went to the cash register and gave his 5 dollars note. The cashier told him thirty cents were missing. He was going to bargain, even going to break his character if he needed to, but someone was quicker.

One coin of twenty and one of ten had been put on the counter next to his hand. Surprised, he follows the arm that laid it until he sees the owner of it. You. You smiled at him politly. You, who was the reason he was buying this in the first place. You were nothing like the you from school. You were even pretty. He couldn't even proceed the information but he just stuttered something, a thanks maybe, he can't even remember. But he left with his articles, head low and cheeks red.

Two days later, (the time he needed for him to understand the reaction he had at the store), he was ready. He would follow you at school, for the sole reason he wanted to scare you, of course. He'd write threats to the sit you usually sit on. But you always brush them off, thinking it was just some aweful joke from another student. Even if he wrote your name on it, you wouldn't budge.

He hang up a doll to the ceiling once, to get a reaction out of you. Didn't work either. He tried a lot more things before he realized he had stepped down the creepyness. His creepy jokes were similar to one a kid do. The more he wanted to scare you, the less he was doing. But he was doing it on purpose.

He knew he was doing it on purpose, the pictures of you on his phone were giving him away. Pictures of you in your room, changing clothes, sleeping, walking. Everything. But everyone do that, right ?Every man his age had a crush, after all. But Ethan never had one. He didn't have a normal life after all, nor a normal family. So it's not surprising.

Is that what men feel ? Surely, yes. He couldn't, and wouldnt anyway, ask his dad on the matter. He soon realized it wasn't normal to obsess over someone this way. But at this point it was too late. He killed people, he could deepen in the uncontroversially. A Polaroid of you talking to you friend was well hidden in his nightstand. Your friend's face was crossed out.

This picture was his favourite because he got to be so so close to you that day he thought that wasn't real. You weren't even smiling on the picture, your friend was probably telling you sad things but he didn't care. He spent countless night staring at this picture.

He craved something else. He didn't know what exactly but the more he was looking at you, the prettier you were becoming. And you were nice to him too. Well, the two only times both of you talked, you were incredibly nice to him. And he discovered you had similar center of interest ! You had scary books in your room, you listened to artists he liked, or learnt to like, and like him you hadn't a lot of friends !

But there was that thing, you weren't scared. But on another side, Ethan is not sure he wants to see you just scared now. He wasn't satisfied anymore.

No, his need was stronger now. He wanted to scare you, but mostly detroy you. It was something really simple in his mind. Something quick to understand but hard to plan. Human is gregarious. Human needs to be in a group or in a pair, it's a fact. But what if an human is left alone ? Then, he'll seek refuge with someone else. Even if it's not truthful. Even if it's a fake relation, because human need compagny. It give them a sense of safety.

And that now, was more terryfing that any stupid movie. Because Ethan was controlling everything in this plan. Because he get to see you scared shitless, to see you cry and beg for you life, he get to destroy you and you'll still come back for him for comfort.

In this plan, Ethan was winning on every fronts. He had everything and you nothing.

Though, he had to control himself at some point. He couldn't act too quickly. It wasn't something you can do in a blinking of an eye. Plus, you still exerted a force on him.

That he wants it or not.

That persona he was sick of playing with his so called friends, weirdly enough, he was really getting into it when you were around. When you looked at him, even for a brief second, he was the embarrassed nerd. When you looked at someone else, he was insecure.

But he'd overcome that, eventually.

Often, you'd come to your friend's apartment and he would love these moments ! Because he could hide in the bathroom and listen to your conversation. At first, his audacity had him doubt about his plan. But your friend was so so stupid ! Since he already locked himself in the bathroom multiple times before, she was used to it by now. Just thinking that it was stuck sometimes and she wouldn't insist. Ethan was free to do what he wanted.

After that, he decided he needed more. He knew your bedroom window was giving to a little street below. And it became a habit for him to go there every night. You couldn't see him, less hear him. But he was talking to you, every time. Most of the time, he was seated on the ground, head glued to your room.

'You're so pretty' he'd whisper after a long day. 'Good night lovely' he'd say when you turn off the light. And once deep asleep, he'd enter your apartment. He already duplicated your keys; his most prized posession. He would just stare at your sleeping form. Sometimes, he'd watch the TV without sound on your couch. Wanting to create a domestic feeling in him.

But each time, once the night is over, you'd see each other at school and you would act as if you don't know him.

And he really, really hated you for it.

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #yandere ethan landry #ethan landry x gn reader #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry headcanons #yandere boy #vitzi9writings

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azulock · 7 months

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I almost lost this thing due to a keyboard mishap, saved by the dedicated ctrlz button on my wacom, thanking my tablet for this save. anyway I'm pretty sure someone has done this concept already but two cakes rule apply, more is better.

summary. Reo shouldn't be fucking Nagi's girlfriend to begin with, he knew, but when his best friend was such a garbage boyfriend he couldn't help but fill in the void. now, cumming inside the girl unprotected, that was dangerous - and hot. pairing. Mikage Reo x F!reader

wordcount. 1,3k

warnings.nsfw (minors back off), cheating, unprotected sex, cumshot, a bit of breeding kink at the end

right?

Reo Mikage who indulges in how it feels to have you cheating on Nagi with him. it's a sick pleasure, something sadistic about being the one you turn to relive your frustration from dating his aloof best friend. truth be told, Nagi could be an annoyance even for him - so for Reo it could feel like getting back something he was owed.

and he definitely felt like he was owed, what with how many times he'd had to step in as mediator to save Nagi from his own fuckups in your relationship. Reo for sure deserved every second he'd spend in your folds not too long afterward. if he was putting so much work to salvage this whole thing, might as well reap the benefits.

it always started with you coming to complain to him about something. way back in the beginning, Reo would just listen and console you, all the while thinking how did such a pretty thing get stuck in a situation like this. sometimes he thought you'd just be better alone, that you should leave Nagi, but you just never managed to. and who was him to judge, he'd thought the same thing about himself and never found the strength to get rid of the guy either.

so if you are stuck, might as well be stuck together.

overtime, his hidden lust for you grew - he was just a guy after all, and you were hot. it filled him until, one day, it exploded. you were half drunk, just tipsy enough to get talkative, more so than usual, and you let it slip how frustrated you were. Nagi hadn't been pleasuring you properly, and that left you terribly pent up. well, Reo just couldn't stand for that.

on the morning after that first night, when he woke up by your side, that's when the sick pleasure took root. when you woke up - regret and worry painted on your face - Reo said he'd take full responsibility if Nagi ever discovered. but you both could just stay quiet, keep this one time fuckup a secret. you nodded, swore that this as a mistake, it would never happen again.

it took barely over a month for you two to have sex again. it was the same song and dance it would be for the next handful of times. honestly, he thought that after the fourth time even Nagi would notice, but he didn't. so Reo continued, and told himself he was still just consoling you, only his methods had changed. if he couldn't fix the problem - and god knows he tried - he could at least medicate the symptom.

maybe Reo couldn't take your headaches away, but he could at least soothe them by flushing your body with pleasure. soothe them by burying his face into you until the only name you knew was his own. by sheathing himself into your walls until there was nothing left but the pleasure. and it worked for him too, pleasure washing everything away until all he could focus on was the feeling of your body around his.

it was sinful, really, this mix of the pleasure from your wet walls taking him in so eagerly, with knowing he was doing something so wrong. the thrill was a powerful aphrodisiac, this little taste of revenge chasing his senses like a drug. to have you completely breathless and dumb under him - in ways he knew his Nagi didn't - it left Reo high and thirsty for more. even if he had spent most of the night fucking you already.

you'd arrived at his doorstep tired and teared up, but it didn't take long for you to be crying for a whole other reason. he couldn't leave bruises on your body - you had to keep it a secret, after all - but he could leave you stretched out and light headed. your body fucked out and brain fuzzy from the multiple orgasms. Reo was feeling his own mind slip, he'd fucked you three times already since the night began - hell, it was probably past midnight by now. maybe he should've stopped now that the condoms ended.

"a-ah... R-Reo!" ah, but how could he when you moaned his name so prettily. it made him want you even more, and he didn't think he could stop his hips if he wanted to. not with the way your walls sucked in him, warm body crushed against the mattress under his weight. oh, yeah, Reo couldn't stop if he wanted to. besides, the thrill just made it feel better - and it would be fine. right?

he nips and licks at your neck, where his head is buried. Reo could see the wet spots near your face from where you had been drooling. god, you were so hot when your brain shut down. the more he fucked into you the more he could feel you shake and whimper under him until he finally feels you snap, pussy milking him desperately.

shit, he was already sensitive, hyper aware of everything around him - the sweat pooling between your bodies, the warmth from your skin, the tiniest noises coming from you. your orgasm had him in overdrive, the way your pussy clenched around his cock making him shudder and grunt. Reo could feel his own orgasm coming, his thrusts becoming erratic as he moved faster and faster.

he is chasing something he knows he shouldn't, treading the line to something that could be very bad - but the thrill, oh it drove him mad. it would be fine, it would be fine. so long as Reo kept his damn self control and came out of your soft, drenching pussy, it would be fine. he could endure a few more thrusts before pulling out and it would work out fine - right?

his body moved faster and faster, sinking his hips into you with wave like motions, pleasure burning up his insides. it was too good, way too good, pulling him ever closer to the edge. just a couple thrusts and he'd pull out - that's what he promised himself, but when you breathlessly moaned out his name again, he couldn't help it. fuck, this was wrong, Reo knew, but it felt so damn good.

with a last powerful thrust, he buries his cock deep into your soft cunt, keeping his hips snug against your ass, going as far into you as he could. Reo's orgasm rocked his body and made him see stars as his throbbing dick flooded your pussy with his cum, pumping rope after rope of his thick white jizz into you until he felt some of it spilling out.

shit. shit, shit, shit. now, this wasn't good. cumming inside his best friend's girlfriend wasn't in Reo's plans, but the worst part was:, he couldn't say it felt bad. because it didn't. it felt too damn good. despite how wrong it was, despite the dangers, it felt way too good. that small, sadistic glee only burning more intensely.

you were still too fucked out and hazy to realize just what had happened. or at least the full extent of it. you two had never fucked without a condom and Reo knew you definitely wouldn't let him cum inside you. the danger was too great, what if he got you pregnant? now that wouldn't be good.

so, why did a part of him like the idea? why did a part of him want to go again, to try and roll the dice, to put a baby inside his best friend's girlfriend - when Reo knew damn well he'd be over at your house tomorrow to try and mend your relationship again. shit, this wasn't good. but you two would deal with it in the morning. and even if you got pregnant, he was sure he could find a way to make this work. right?

#reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage #Gonna make a comment only Brazilians and literature nerds will get:#Dom casmurro if you believe that capitu actually cheated

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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mehidktbh · 1 year

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One Call Away

Pairing: Mafia!Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon gets a call one day from you, you're panicking and crying on the other side when you tell him your co-worker did something terrible to you. But you don’t realise he’s about to be right outside your building.

Warning: Established relationship, gore/blood, torture, swearing, inappropriate behaviour, Soap is like Ghosts’ right-hand man, unwanted/un-consensual touching, crying, angry!Ghost, angst and fluff

A/N: Thank you to @fatedeniedhope for the help and inspiration with this and many more fics. Hopefully, everyone loves this because I'll definitely make more.

(No one knows how hard coming up with an idea was, I mean fuck I was stumed but this isn't my best work and hopefully, they'll be other (better) work soon.)

You sniff again, wiping the tears that continue to seep from your eyes, your nose is a bit runny and you feel hopeless. You pull your phone from your pocket, you're hands tremble and quake as you try to swipe through it before you tap on the contact you most dearly trust. The screen displays the brightly labelled name of your dear husband, someone you hate to call some days due to him always being busy but at this time you need him more than ever.

♡ ♡ ♡

The loud sound of talking echoes through the work building, you sit down at one of the many chairs at the conference table. Cups full of tea or coffee surround the number of papers and files, pens and pencils sit beside them un-neatly and un-used. A big projector hangs from the ceiling as it brightly displays the recent sales and downfalls. What's hitting hot and not, people's preferences and what changes can be made to the company.

"We'll revise after your thirty-minute break." Your boss said roughly, his voice is tired and demanding as his eyes skim over everyone sitting at the table. His head nods allowing everyone to stand and go off, and you're dying to get something to eat and maybe drink. After all, drinking tea and coffee every day for the same time for almost a week.

The sound of your shoes click against the flooring, you make your way past several people, some sit in their office cubicles while others stand mindlessly in a line waiting to use the printer. Your eyes wander over to the vending machine that sits there on its own, the hallway is mostly empty expect a few people walking up and down. The sounds of the vending machine pull you closer, you were originally thinking of going down the street to get something but now you scrapped that idea.

You stare in awe at the many foods displayed behind the clear display case, ranging from cholate to chips to anything unhealthy wise. But at the moment you are on a running thirty-minute timer and the last thing on your mind is eating healthy. Revenging through your pocket you pull out your wallet ticket away in your blazer. The black leather wallet is full of different credit cards and stamp cards that come from your favourite places.

You pull out a $20 dollar note and push it through the vending machine, typing in the numbers on the little keypad before watching the machine slowly get your items. "Good morning, Y/N." A masculine voice came from behind you, nearly scaring you as you turned around to face your co-worker. "Hey, John" You smile, nodding your head to greet him as he stands calmly against the vending machine, eyeing you up and down. "How's the meeting going?" He tries to make small talk and despite you wanting not to you engage in a small conversation.

"Actually I'm just about to head back," He sucks his teeth in, pouting his lips together, "That's a shame." His voice is low and sad, a smile appearing when you awkwardly laugh back, the sound of your food and drink smack against the machine. You bend down to grab them from under the flap before you hear John shuffle behind you.

"See you around, Y/N..." He mutters, his eyes trained on you as you bend down so you can better grasp the water bottle that rolls further away from your hand. You hum uninterested in what he just said before you feel his hand grab your ass, his hand low enough to feel his fingers graze your inner thigh, A short snickering came out from him before he walked off, you can basically see the asshole smirk from where you stand now in shock and anger.

♡ ♡ ♡

"Simon..." You sniffle, hearing your husband's mood change instantly when he hears your heartbreaking tone. "Fuck- what happened?" He asks, a demanding tone lacing his sympathetic tongue as he leans into the phone more. Trying to hear you better through your sniffling and hiccuping. Simon could hear your throat closing up, the way your soft kind voice was fast and sloppy.

"I- Can you come get me, please..." Your pleading falls hard against his ears as he shoots up from his leather chair, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing through his hollow office. "Of course, dear." You sigh in relief as your back is met with the bathroom wall, you feel like the walls are closing in around you even though you have enough space to stretch out. "Now tell me what happened" You try to ignore the amount of background noise going on behind your husbands' phone, from him demanding someone to bring the car around to him getting in the car.

"My co-worker he... he touched me..." You were quieter, you couldn't shove the feelings of embarrassment and shame from coming up to stop you from saying those words properly. Simon angrily groans on the other side, you can just imagine him in the back of the car squirming with anger. Feeling the tightness that he has as he holds the phone to his ear, "Wait there, sweetheart. I'll be there in a second and I'll deal with that fucker', okay?" He reassures you of your safety and now all you want is to be in his arms, to feel his warmth and loving voice.

"Mhm" You hum softly, your tears low clearing up but the back of your throat still burns from your silent sobbing earlier. Simon receives the sound of the phone being hung up as he tosses it aside, barking at the driver to hurry up before he turns to Soap. A simple nod is all Soap needs before he turns to look out the window, a gory image set in his mind.

♡ ♡ ♡

You sit alone in your office room, the blinds closed and fending off any wondering eyes as you sit down in your chair looking straight at your computer. Your mind isn't set on work and instead, the time tickling from the clock that sits on your office desk, slowly ticking down till your squirm in your seat.

You nervously wait anxiously for what's about to happen, you haven't heard since you stupidly hung up on your husband. And now all you want to do is hear his soothing voice, his calloused hands and his beefy figure but all you can do is wait. Feeling as if the moment you had just a second ago wasn't real.

"Y/N." The door opens up, closing behind itself as a well-known voice soothes you, you jump up from your chair before falling into your husband's embrace. You feel stupid for letting yourself cry again after telling yourself you wouldn't once Simon would be here but now crying is all you can do. Burrowing yourself further into Simon's chest you clutch onto his suit, not one of you caring if a dark spot appears wet.

"Don't worry about that idiot, Soap took care of him." He whispered into your ear, his hand came out to wipe the stream of tears away. "You didn't... kill him, right?" You questioned. Still, that guy deserved all the hell he could get but the day he disappeared everyone would of pointed fingers at you. The thought of him dying was terrible but wasn't pleasant either.

"Don't worry about him, love. He won't bother you again" You nod, feeling the smooth silk fabric of Simon's (suit) handkerchief up against your cheek. The floral design was pretty to look at, the design is something you remember when you got it for him for his birthday. The thing is now something you see every day on each of his suits, the square handkerchief is different from his lifeless-coloured clothes and stands out. Reminding everyone he has a special someone.

You spot bits of blood smudges on it, the same ones you guess he cleans off his knuckles or hands when he's done with "business". "Come on, let's go home." He waits near the door, standing tall and neat as he watches you pack up quickly, throwing your laptop into your bag before your grab his hand tightly.

♡ ♡ ♡

Blood spills out upon the concreated floor, the red liquid is something Ghost has seen thousand times, he's covered in it and reeks of it too. "Toss him out." He stares at the hopeless men in front, the ropes thicker than shit as his skin burns redder than his blood. Soap nods in agreement, the sound of the wooden chair screeching harshly against the concert floor dies out the further he's taken away.

He mindlessly wipes away the blood from his hands, the floral handkerchief swallows the liquid whole. Ghost stands there, continuing to wipe the blood away, remembering your face as he does so. How frightened you sounded when you called him, he swore he nearly had a heart attack at that moment, hearing you huff for air. But now he neatly packs the handkerchief into his pocket, his mind set on getting back into bed with you.

He tries to gather up excuses to sugarcoat you into staying in bed in the morning but there's no need to work when he's already done it for you.

#simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #ghost riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 fanfic #cod mw #mw2 x reader

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sailoryooons · 1 year

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Obsidian | One | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: You remember everything. The first time you radiated at garnet, feeling the power of the jewel rushing through you. Remember the energy pulsing at your command. And you certainly remember the face of the man who ruined your life. Then there’s Min Yoongi, the Chaotic who is the key to your revenge.

☾ Word Count: 10,012

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Graphic depiction of death and body dismemberment, a lot of blood, Yoongi is brutally wounded/gutted, near-death experience, traumatic loss of parents, mention of suicide (not actual, but metaphorical), this is pretty blood and gory but not gratuitous? Death of a koi fish rip Agust the I.

☾ Published: April 22, 2023

☾ A/N: Don’t ask me to explain myself. I have no idea what I’m doing and my Aries moon is in full control of me and working me like a robot. This is a series or something I don’t know. I have no plans and no thoughts, just brain rot. Inspired by Jade City by Fonda Lee, the movie Colombiana, the movie Scarface and by my fuck it we ball attitude about writing what I want when I think of it. Also please note that the order of first and last names will be done in Western fashion in this, as this story does not exist anywhere real-world-adjacent and thus, will be first name > last name.❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

An emerald Radiant walks into the bar and makes a mess. It sounds like a punchline, but you never hear the end of the joke. Only the hook and the line. No sinker.

Before he arrives and messes everything up is important, though.

Market Town is a mess. Each side of the road has storefronts with open doors, neon and holographic signage blinking on and off with the shitty pulse from the electricity grid. In front of them on the side walks and spilling into the street are the stall vendors, ever-changing and ever-moving sales carts, tables, boxes and people hawking their wares, fruits and trinkets at the hundreds of people who writhe through the market.

It smells terrible. You keep to yourself, all the stink of bodies and rotting fruit and the sizzling fat of meat making your head dizzy no matter which way you navigate. Market Town stretches an entire district, street after street of stores and people and things and it feels like it never ends, the stench of humanity clinging to you like a second skin.

Water crashes down on a man selling lab-grade jewels to a wary-looking mother and daughter. They flinch away from the seller as he sputters and screams, soaked in sweat and whatever liquid has been tossed out an apartment window from above. He cranes his neck up to locate whoever tossed the water - or more likely, piss - out of the window, but he has hundreds of options to choose from from the apartment building that towers behind him. You grimace and step further into the middle of the street. Most of the apartments in Market Town have years worth of failing plumbing, and you have no desire to be showered with piss and shit.

It’s too early in the evening for the lights of the neon advertisements glittering in the air above your head to cast a blinding light on your eyes. Their glow is not yet painted on the surge of people coming and going, but you know by sundown Market Town will be a watercolor of holographic and neon advertisements courtesy of Roanoke Insurance, Jend Cosmetics, and Jura Jura Coffee: Best Brew In Diade.

At least Market Town has sensible advertisements. It isn’t the vibrant horror of naked figures bent over, or the bloody holograph of a man having his brains blown out. Crimson District has no shortage of unique and salacious advertising and the money its businesses generate make the lights and the glow much harder to ignore, even in the daylight. It’s part of why you prefer to scrounge around Market Town like a mangrove rat.

Well, and it’s what you can afford.

Namjoon’s work stall floats around Market Town. Usually, you can find him tucked between Margot’s fruit stand and Len’s divination table. Namjoon likes to nibble on Margot’s sweet strawberries in exchange for fixing the till on Margot’s stand, and Len is an okay stall neighbor when he isn’t so drunk that he’s trying to convince you that the end is near and the world will be swallowed in garnet and obsidian.

That sounds lovely, you always tell him.

Prepare for the end, Len always answers.

The sweet smell of tangerines reaches you through the sizzling smell of frying meat a few stalls over. It’s better than the rank stink of flowers wafting from a stall a few carts over, your head dizzy with the fragrance as you approach Namjoon, Margot and Len.

Margot’s fruit always smells better than any other food set out across tables and bins on the street. You’re pretty sure it has to do with the pretty, green citrine jewel that he keeps tucked away and out of sight and away from any wandering eyes.

You can’t blame him. Even though citrine isn’t high on the Jewel Caste, Market Town is primarily made up of Nulls. They certainly can’t radiate with jewels, but they sell them at a high price to those desperate enough to feel the power of a Radiant. Some even promise to sell jewels that make Radiants Caste Drop to a new, darker and more powerful color.

Only an untrained Radiant would think a Caste Drop is possible through a rock. It’s stupid, really. Anyone who wears or buys jewels openly in Market Town is asking to be robbed and gutted. You’ve even seen as light as a diamond caste get murdered here.

A kindly young man stands in front of Namjoon’s stand. It’s really just a wooden table with a bunch of trinkets, clocks with too many dials, little holographic action figures jumping into different poses, and other wares that run on technology or small engineering. Namjoon prides himself on being the best tinkerer, though you’re willing to bet he’s a lot smarter than that.

Namjoon himself isn’t much older than the man at his table, gesturing to a watch as Namjoon leans over it. Namjoon’s brown hair has grown long, shoved back by a black, cotton strip he has tied around his head to keep it out of the way. He’s dressed in a dirty shirt and canvas overalls, a little bit of grease on his arms. His glasses slide down his nose, lenses fogged with the humidity that collects in Market Town and makes it rot.

A fly buzzes toward you from Margot’s stand. He has his back turned to you, placing little white pricing stickers on his green melons. He's a little portly and very short - especially when Namjoon stands and shakes his customer’s hand. Namjoon is taller than most people, and much broader, his shoulders wide and arms thick, suggesting that he did something else before he became a tinkerer in Market Town.

You don’t know what, though. You can sense the peridot he has hidden in the soles of his boots and the fingertips of his work gloves, giving him power to radiate as he works on his little devices and mending broken objects for people. But you’ve never asked.

Asking questions is the first step to murder in these parts.

When his customer leaves, Namjoon turns to you and blinks his brown eyes at you owlishly, magnetized by his prescription lenses. He’s handsome - a little too handsome by Market Town standards - and he smiles at you, a dimple popping up in his cheek.

“I finally fixed this device for you,” Namjoon says by way of greeting. He digs around in his overall pockets and produces a tiny, silver device that looks like a bullet. “The little battery inside was fried. I put in a new one and replaced the copper plating on the starter. Your wires were totally corroded and-”

“How much?” you ask, a little exasperated. Namjoon will go on forever if you let him, and you need to get to Montana. “I only asked for the battery to be looked at, Joon.”

“No cost. It was a fun little device to look at. Kind of dangerous, though, no?”

“You can’t not charge me. I told you to stop giving people their shit for free.”

His cheeks turn cherry as he scratches the back of his neck. “Fine, what about five nil?” You toss the coins on the table and he passes you the device. “It’s a mini shatterwave, right? The high-pitched frequency scatters the frequency of Radiants?”

You give him an annoyed look. “Yes.”

“Who made it? It’s a fascinating device.”

Instead of answering Namjoon’s question, you pocket the little bullet and toss another five nil on the table. “For silence,” you tell him firmly.

He wants to ask another question. You can see it in his face. Namjoon is always asking you questions about the things you bring to him and ask him for. It isn’t his job to ask questions, especially as freely as he asks them. But Namjoon operates like someone who has no idea that he’s tucked away in the most dangerous market in the Crown Cities.

Nothing Namjoon does is that of someone low born. He’s too polite, gives out too many handouts, and lets his curiosity get the best of him. Lets his clients become friends. You’re fond of him as much as someone of your position is allowed to be - maybe even a little more - but Namjoon is a danger to himself, no matter how often you keep steering him back in the right direction.

“You!” Len leans over Namjoon’s table, his glassy green eyes wide, pupils dilated. His hair is white as salt and sticks up in multiple directions, looking as though he may have been electrocuted and never recovered. He points one knobby finger at you. “The world will end in garnet and obsidian.”

“That sounds lovely, Len.”

You predict the next words. Have heard him say it dozens of times. “Obsidian.”

Len surprises you. That has yet to be a response in your little game of prophecy, and you open your mouth to indulge and ask him what he means when something tingles at the back of your neck.

You pause and glance to the side where Margot is dealing with a customer arguing about the price of squash. A soft breeze rustles the canvas topper to Margot’s stand, carrying the scent of tangerine with it. Something is buzzing at the back of your neck, and your gaze slowly drifts from Margot to a man passing by the cart.

This is someone who blends in. His clothes are plain: his pants are ripped at the knees and scuffed at the bottom, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest in places where he’s sweating through. He has a floral shirt pulled over, open and fluttering in the balmy breezy of the market.

Nothing about him is remarkable, except that he’s beautiful. Perhaps not on the first glance, but when you blink and focus, it feels like you’re seeing him for the first time. You have no idea how upon first glance you thought he could ever blend in.

He has a round face, glowing and pale like the moon. Inky hair that is a little bit dirty, a few wavy pieces falling over cat-sharp eyes. He smirks as he walks, and though he isn’t looking at you, he seems smug about something. You’re not sure what, but as he passes you, you feel that tingle again.

Your eyes dart to all of the places you look for jewels first. Hands, ears, neck, and wrists. Nothing, there’s no jewel on him. You can’t sense a frequency about him that makes sense - he doesn’t fit anywhere on the caste that makes sense to you, but it’s definitely a Radiant-adjacent sensation. He’s on the caste, but you don’t know where.

Most Radiants feel like a dull buzz. When they have jewels, it’s more like an itch that you want to scratch. There is always an attraction for a Radiant to use jewels, even if they don’t belong to them. This feeling isn’t that, it’s more invasive and sharp, not like anything you’ve felt from diamond caste to onyx caste.

When he gets a few yards away, the feeling begins to fade. You start to turn away but he tosses something up and the air and catches it. You narrow your eyes and he does it again, realizing he’s tossing a tangerine up and down.

A tangerine that he stole.

“Hey!” you bark at him, making several people turn in your direction, including Namjoon and Margot. The man doesn’t pause, tossing his tangerine in the air again. “Hey motherfucker! You have to pay for that tangerine!”

That catches his attention. He turns and looks at you over his shoulder, eyes round and mouth parted in surprise. A few people turn to look at where you’re shouting, but you mostly go ignored. Thieves are common here and most people don’t bother to yell at them anymore.

The man pauses for a moment. His gaze darts between you, Margot who is coming around his cart behind you with a knife, and the ripe little tangerine in his hand. He looks at you again, dark eyes glittering. For a second, the two of you are connected, strung together by an unlikely moment between strangers. Then he does the damndest thing: he grins.

And then he’s running down the street, floral shirt snapping in the wind as he dashes headfirst into the crowd.

Like the idiot you are, you take off after him. Suddenly, you are the number one security measure of Margot’s fruit stand, a man who has never given you a fucking discount in your life. You have no idea why you’re running after this tangerine thief, but you feel energy surge through you as you do, dodging people and bodies and things as you tear after him.

The tangerine thief is quick on his feet but you’re fast too, the emerald jewel hidden in your boot sending energy through you. You only radiate a little - not enough to draw too much attention, but enough to not lose sight of his red shirt flapping as he takes a corner and leaps over a stall.

He’s a Radiant, you realize. You suspected when you felt him walk behind you, but the ease at which he vaults a market stall much taller than him gives it away. He isn’t worried about hiding his status from you, which can mean a couple of things.

You don’t consider any of them, going around the stall instead of over. The emerald in your shoe is more than enough to send you several meters in the air, but you like to play your cards close. Don’t like to flash power unless you absolutely have to.

In a market full of Nulls, you prefer to blend in. Unjeweled is safer, especially in Market Town full of thieves and cut throats for naive or unsuspecting Radiants.

Just as you catch sight of your thief again, there’s a loud snap in the market. You look up, seeing a two story stall made from dry-rotted driftwood splinter. There’s a single second where you’re watching the top of the stall holding fresh rain water and it’s crashing down onto the market floor.

Screams ring out as alarmed market goers are startled by the sudden deluge. You just barely throw up a shield of concentrated energy. Water splits once it hits you, a river breaking around a boulder. Chaos ensues, the stall owner screaming her head off and wailing about the precious rainwater she collected to bless with her divine spiritual energy and sell, while shoppers and other stall owners alike are furious about their now soaking persons and wares.

Dropping your shield, you shoulder through the crowd. Now the smell of garbage is wet and pungent, clinging to bodies as you shove through the mess, looking for any sign of the pretty boy and his stolen tangerine.

It’s a mass of colors and people, lanes between stalls and the crowd opening and closing. The movement of Market Town flexes like a living thing, shifting and writhing, a hungry serpent sliding through the streets.

“Fuck,” you growl. It was a well placed distraction and perfect aim, using his power to snap the beam of the stand.

With a sigh, you look down at your watch and curse. You’re going to be late to work. Again. All because you chased down a thief for a fruit salesman that doesn’t even like you.

But that tingle. That sense of awareness that pricked the back of your neck, sharp and lethal. You think about it as you speed walk to the outskirts of Market Town where the edge of the Night Sphinx territory borders the loosely carved strip of streets that belong to the Green Dragons.

The lane of pockmarked pavement between the left and right sides of the street is the only place in Diade where two families of the Armory share such close property. Though the Salib and Park families are friendly enough, it still doesn’t do well to mix too much among Armory families outside of official business.

As soon as you hit the corner, you keep your eye on the other side of the street. It’s lined with clubs and bars and gambling dens that belong to the Night Sphinx organization. A few patrons loiter on the street, but it’s mostly members with sphinx tattoos, brooches or emblems stitched to their clothing to state their association.

The sun is sinking toward its final goodbye, rays of gold light cut in half by the towering buildings of Civ just a few miles away. It’s a beautiful sight, a shot straight down to the lower elevation of the giant buildings turned burnish gold by the sunset.

Even from a distance, the commercial district of the city is imposing, its steel teeth biting upward at a colored sky. You wonder what it must be like to live in that world. To work or live in one of the Civ towers. You imagine you’d have your own little office with a desk and a private window to look out at the world. So high up near the clouds, a god of civilization.

A group of Green Dragons pour out of the door of Montana and onto the sidewalk. It draws your attention away from the shining, ever-golden Civ to the flickering neon sign above a banged-up metal door. It looks like the lock is busted again and you make a note to tell Burro. Not that he’ll get it fixed. It’s not worth the nil to fix anything in Montana, including the mangrove rat infestation brought in by one of the liquor shipments from Blows.

Inside the bar is no better. Sticky floors, wobbling tables with chipped wood and scratched lacquer coating, a single bar with broken stools pulled up to the edge. There are a few holoscreens flickering above the colorful bottles that line the bar, sometimes interrupted by Jungkook’s tattooed hand reaching for bottles.

Montana is rarely busy. It’s a new acquisition fronted by the Green Dragons, though the building isn’t new and neither is the bar. It had been closed for almost fifteen years, a rotted hole of a used-to-be-bar until Jimin opened it up again. He doesn’t intend for it to be a popular place to drink as much as he needs it for Green Dragons operations, but he fixed it up a bit.

As you round the bar to throw your shit in the office, a mangrove rat scurries by your feet, making you screech and jump. Jungkook lifts his head, round eyes sweeping back and forth for danger, hands cocked and fists half-clenched. He catches sight of the rat scurrying into one of the holes in the side of the wall and scowls before nodding in greeting.

So maybe Jimin hadn’t fixed up the bar that much.

If Jungkook is irritated by your tardiness, he doesn’t say anything. You’re just as pleased as you are displeased to discover that Burro isn’t in the bar at all. You suspect he’s down the block wasted in the Green Garter. Instead of asking, you immediately get to helping Jungkook maintain the system behind the bar, which is mostly cleaning vigorously at all times to fight the grime that seems to inch up on the place every hour.

Working with Jungkook is your favorite. He’s a quiet kid with a guarded expression and soft eyes. You don’t ask him much about how he got here or why. Jimin seems to show him the same reverence as when he first found you, so it’s safe to assume that Jungkook is a stray like you.

Even without jewels, Jungkook is tall and broad, his arms thick and strong enough to lift kegs one-armed over his shoulder. You’ve seen him go from quiet and unassuming behind the bar to throwing a jeweled Radiant across the street. You know he has your back. Despite the fact that his eyes sometimes drift to where your emerald is hidden. It’s the only evidence that you have that he’s frequency sensitive, like you.

Jungkook’s energy vibrates somewhere on the light colors. Maybe jade or rose, it’s hard to place him because he wears no jewels.

The sound of some sporting event on the holoscreen buzzes behind you. The murmur of voices is soothing as you work, scrubbing a stain on the bartop you don’t remember being there yesterday. A quick sweep tells you that it’s the usual crowd this evening: Daro who is a smoky jewel sitting at a booth with Rollins and Gia, both emeralds; twins Rin and Maki sitting at the bar with their sharp, matching gazes vibrating at amethyst, and Bolero who doesn’t run with the Green Dragons but has become a regular, the only Null in the building.

Bolero signals for another drink, grey eyes following you. He’s dancer-thin and his face is sharp like a hawk, grey eyes even sharper. He’s always in a long, red trench coat no matter how boiling hot it is. You think you’re going to see him keel over and have a heatstroke one day, but he never does. Just strolls in, pushing his long, dark hair out of his face before sitting down wordlessly at the bar.

You pour him a whiskey neat and slide it over to him. He hums a thank you and turns his attention back to the screen flickering behind you. Bolero never talks, but you don’t mind him. The Radiants ignore him, though they hadn’t at first. You still see Rollins sporting a ropey scar on his hand from learning how much bullying Bolero would take.

Apparently, it was very little.

Most places would have had the Null killed and dragged out for the city sanitation to collect in their once-a-week pickups. To Radiants, anyone who doesn’t have power, who can’t radiate on the same frequency as a jewel, is beneath them. Powerless. Ant, meet boot.

Radiants, you’ve learned, are certainly powerful but not quite intelligent.

“Where’s the asshole?” you ask Jungkook as you close the dishwasher with your hip. Three hours in and no Burro in sight. Not that you’re complaining, but as the manager, he’s usually expected to be around in the event that someone important drops by for business.

Jungkook shrugs, dubious. “How should I know?”

“He can’t keep leaving you alone.”

“I’m not a kid.” You give him a look and his cheeks go pink. “I’m twenty-two, you know?”

“A child. A mere infant. Baby.”

“Ugh.”

“Anway,” you clarify, throwing a rag over your shoulder. “It’s not right. If someone comes in here for Green Dragons shit and Burro isn’t around, you’re gonna be fucked.”

“I can service them just fine.”

“Yeah? Where’s the stash?”

Jungkook smirks and leans against the bar. He’s dressed in dirty pants and a t-shirt he’s patched holes on several times already. His arms flex as he crosses them, cocking his head to the side. His hair is so much longer than it used to be - now it’s wavy and falling into his eyes, sticking to the sweaty skin of his forehead. You want to offer him a haircut, but you don’t want to baby him further.

“It’s in the grate underneath the desk in Burro’s office.”

“Great, and then they’ll flay you alive for not answering in their weird little code phrase.” Jungkook’s smirk falls off his face and you shake your head. “Exactly. Just because you know things doesn’t mean you know all of them, Jungkook.”

“Whatever.”

Jungkook pushes off of the counter and distracts himself by sullenly adjusting the bottles on the bar. You snort and turn back to trying to pry the sparking plug of the freezer out from the outlet to move power sources. Eventually, you feel Jungkook’s presence at your side, making you crane your neck up to look at him.

“So what is the code phrase?” he asks, pout prominent. You roll your eyes and straighten just as the door opens to the bar.

The door swings open with such force that it smacks the wall behind it, doorknob cracking. It draws the attention of the bar, everyone turning in their seats to see the man standing at the entrance. He’s mid-size with wild, blue hair and there’s a messy tattoo of a black cat on his arm. Your eyes narrow and the bar stills at the violent entrance of a Night Sphinx member in front of you, panting and staring directly at Bolero, the only person not looking at the door.

“Can I help you?” you ask, looking back and forth between them.

The Night Sphinx is angry and his energy snaps around him, a crackle in the air. You don’t have to sense the emeralds on him to know where he’s at on the Jewel Caste. He has a single ring on his finger and two modest earrings, not polished jewels but still emeralds all the same.

For a second, the man doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Bolero in a red rage, face purpling with the way he’s panting, fists clenched at his sides. You think he might just pass out, but then he’s pointing a finger at the Null sitting at your bar, sipping whiskey.

“You motherfucker!” His voice is garbled and slurred with liquor. “You fucked my wife!”

“Oh for jewels sake,” Maki grunts, turning away and sharing a roll of her eyes with her twin. “Take him outside and kick his ass then. He’s a Null.”

If being sold out by Maki bothers Bolero, he doesn’t show it. He simply sits there in his heavy trench coat, eyes fixed on the game on the holoscreen. This seems to enrage the man at the door even further. He ignores Maki’s advice and storms into the bar, gathering energy as he goes. The chairs and tables he walks by rattle and slide away from him, the pulse of energy flowing through him as he radiates disturbing them.

No one in the bar moves. Jungkook is transfixed and confused, eyes wide. The Green Dragons in the bar watch with mild interest. Bolero isn’t one of them, and the bar isn’t important enough to pick a fight with one of Salib's men over a Null.

But you’re not looking forward to the cleanup, and you don’t want to explain to Jimin how you did nothing while some Night Sphinx came in and fucked up a patron.

As your hand slides to the small, bullet-shaped device Namjoon fixed for you, Bolero moves. It’s almost too fast to follow the fluid way he stands and spins from the chair. His foot slips under the stool, using the toe of his boot to hook it behind the stool’s leg and he kicks.

The stool flies at the Radiant. He’s a little drunk and slow, but he’s still a Radiant and he reacts with enough clarity to pulse with the jewels on his hand and earrings once, sending a shield of energy around him. The stool shatters against the invisible wall, leaving the intruder unharmed.

Bolero is still fast for a Null though, already flipping a round table over to duck behind it as the Night Sphinx sends a green bolt of energy right at Bolero. It hits the table and singes it, cracking it in half. It’s loud as thunder, your yell going ignored as the two of them wreck the left side of the bar.

This is the ignorance of the Radiants. They don’t care about how destructive they are, storming into places and letting others take damage as they make demands and use force when they want.

Grabbing the scatterwave in your pocket. Bolero is dodging and waving blasts of energy from the man who chases him around the bar, blowing tables and chairs to bits. The other members of the Green Dragons have moved out of the warpath, collected near a booth on the far end of the bar, watching and jeering as Bolero doges a slice of concentrated energy that would have taken his head off.

“Fuckers,” you mutter.

Palming the device you press the top of the scatterwave. The device is small but it lets out a high-pitched sound when activated, sharp enough to disrupt frequencies within a small radius. Its target is the darker colors on the caste, its high frequency enough of a distraction and disruption for Radiants that it makes it harder to radiate.

The reaction is instantaneous. You feel nausea roll through your stomach and your world spins. It’s an earth-shattering noise, your ears vibrating with the force of the whistle. Your vision is blurry but you stumble toward where the two men are fighting, the Radiant bent over with his hands on his ears screaming from the force of the shatterwave.

Bolero is unaffected. He has no frequency to scatter and he takes the shot, leaping at the struggling Radiant with a snarl on his face.

“Not in here!” you screech. “He’s a Salib, you cannot kill him in Park territory. Go somewhere else! Bolero, please!”

Bolero looks at you once, grey eyes full of fire. He has the intruder by the shirt collar, fisted tight as the man continues to thrash against the sound of your device. You think for a split second that Bolero is going to drag him out of the bar and do what you ask. He turns to look at the door, considering it.

He decides not to. A knife appears in his hand and you yell as he stabs downward. You can’t hear the fleshy sound as Bolero sinks the blade in over the wailing of the device in your hand. He hits right between the ribs and up, a solid jab directly to the heart. The Radiant jerks in Bolero’s arms, his death twitch violent as he fists Bolero’s shirt, eyes wide, face aghast. Then he goes limp, sagging as a ragged breath leaves him.

No one moves. Bolero holds the dead man in his arms, panting and looking down at him. They are so close, Bolero’s face right over the man’s and if you didn’t know any better, you might think they were lovers. Bolero slowly crouches down, suddenly gentle as he lays the dead body on the ground, hands hovering over him.

You press the top of the shatterwave and it goes silent as it can with the high-pitched ring in your ears as you try to recover. You’re a little unsteady on your feet, pressing your hand against the bartop to keep your balance. A sharp pain behind your eyes signals an oncoming headache.

“What the fuck?” your voice sounds foreign and strained in the ringing quiet. “Are you fucking serious?”

Bolero rises, pulling the bloody knife with him. He wipes it on his pants and flips it in his fingers artfully. Familiar with blades, you note. He half turns to you and glances around the destroyed section of Monatna before he looks back at you and shrugs.

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but he was trying to kill me.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You kill people outside of this bar. You aren’t permitted to kill here.”

“Montana doesn’t protect its patrons?”

“Montana protects Green Dragons,” you clarify with a hiss.

You feel your fingers twitch. The familiar urge to radiate rises. It’s a natural instinct, to want to reach for the power that is right there on the edge of your mind all the time. You feel the emerald in your shoe. You imagine it beckons you, wiggling its fingers, begging to be used.

You ignore it, pointing a finger at Bolero. “You fucked up and you know it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with a dead Night Sphynix?”

“Tell the Salib’s he attacked first.”

“You’re a Null asshole, it doesn’t matter that he attacked you first. You’re not fucking one of us.”

Something passes over Bolero’s face when you say it. Offense, you think. It’s there and gone so fast that you think you imagine it. You only feel a little guilty that he thinks you mean not a Radiant. You really mean not one of the Green Dragons but it doesn’t matter, in the end.

He pulls his phone out. “My boss will pay for the damage and deal with the Salibs.”

“Unless your boss is Jimin fucking Park, that doesn’t really matter.”

Bolero holds the phone up to his ear. You watch as he smirks a bit, shrugging. “Nah, but don’t worry about it.”

“Oh I’m fucking worried about it,” you snarl. Jungkook is watching wordlessly, mouth parted slightly. “Call Jimin,” you bark at him, making him flinch. You immediately soften your voice. “Sorry, just - call Jimin.”

With a bow of his head, Jungkook grabs the phone and dials.

Jungkook starts murmuring quietly when Jimin - or an assistant, more like - answers the phone while you let yourself into the back and lock the backdoor for security before returning to the front. Bolero is sitting at the bar waiting, the dead Night Sphinx behind him. Red is beginning to pool around him, almost black against the dirty floor of the bar.

Heading to the door, you throw Gia a look. “Watch the bar,” you grunt. “Unlike you did when that fuck stick walked in here and ripped the place apart.”

She looks down her nose at you, eyes narrowed. Gia is terrifyingly beautiful, standing nearly a foot taller than you and built with wiry muscle. Her silky, black hair is braided out of her face, elegant and carved like one of the glass angels sold in the art district. Her eyes are the same color as her jewels, a stunning emerald that flashes in annoyance at your command.

Gia nods once instead of arguing. The other Green Dragons behind her have the decency to look ashamed. While they aren’t heavies dedicated to protecting the Park family assets, they are low-level lackeys who could have prevented half the bar from being blown to bits by a Radiant. Especially the two amethyst caste twins who look at the wall blankly realizing what's going to happen now.

Instead of stopping the Night Sphinx, they all stood there with drunk stares and half-tilted grins. Jimin won’t like it and they know it. It doesn’t matter that Montana isn’t an integral operation to the Green Dragons. It’s about pride and respect. The fact that a drunk, emerald caste man under the flag of the Salib family stumbled into Jimin’s bar, destroyed the place and then was killed by a Null is going to set Jimin off.

So you find a target to direct his anger at.

Burro is slouched down on a leather couch at the Green Garter, exactly where you expect him. He doesn’t see you coming, the scattered green and white lights from the stage refracting and splitting into dozens of beams shining in his eyes as he stares at the topless woman on stage. There’s hardly anyone in the club and only a few people look startled when you grab him by the collar and yank him from the booth.

Security at the door and near the strange straighten up. The girl on stage keeps moving, lithe movements carrying her away from where you lift Burro up, fingers digging into his shirt enough to rip. He smells like grain alcohol and sweat, the stubble on his face indicating that he may have slept in the club.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Come on,” you snarl at him, shooting daggers as one of the security guards steps in your direction. You let yourself radiate just a little, enough to give out a steady hum that even the lightest on the Jewel Caste can feel the sensation of an emerald jewel. He backs off immediately despite the fact that you can see and sense the amethyst pieces drilled into his pale knuckles.

But there are two things that stop him: emerald is close enough to amethyst that a good Radiant can fuck up someone who is only a little darker than them on the Caste, and you’re a Radiant under the protection of the Park family, specifically Jimin, who owns the club.

As much as it annoys the man whose job is to protect the dancers and the patrons, if you want to beat the shit out of Burro on the shitty green carpet in front of everyone, he has to allow it. You’re one of Jimin’s favorite little Radiants and everyone knows it, especially on this strip of road.

No one stops you as you drag Burro out of the bar. His feet slide on the stained carpet, trying to find purchase as he yanks at your hand, shouting obscenities at you with his reeking breath. Your grip is iron, and you throw him as hard as you can once you’re back onto the sidewalk. He hits the ground hard, shoulder cracking against the street.

Burro yells and rolls over, curling into himself. You fight the urge to kick him a few times, your wrath waiting like a coiled snake to strike out and punish him for being such a burden to deal with. You leave him in a fetal position, storming back into the bar to throw a couple of nill on the table for the drinks and a heavy sum more on the stage for the girl’s trouble. She winks at you, pretty enough to make you flush and spin on your heel to get back outside where Burro is still laying on the ground.

Most of the time, you don’t bother. Burro is technically your manager and your superior. He’s an asshole and a waste of the Green Dragon's salary, which is why Jimin stuck him behind the bar, a punishment as much as a favor to Burro’s father who is a mid-ranking heavy in the Park family’s retinue. It’s as good as his son is willing to get for an emerald caste who is lazy and spends most of his days gambling, ogling at naked bodies, or wasted in a booth with Rollins.

Even so, most days you let him yell at you. Throw curses your way. Drone about how shitty of a bartender you are - which is true - like a gnat that won’t leave. He’s harmless on good days, annoying on bad days, and he’s too afraid to retaliate in rare moments like this when you shove him into his ill-fitting role.

“Get up,” you spit at him. You have the urge to crush his fingers that are spread out on the sidewalk. You think the loud crunch beneath your boot might be satisfying. You don’t, though. “Bolero just killed a Night Sphinx in the bar.”

“Swhwat?”

You growl as he slurs, slowly pushing himself to his feet. You think he might have been handsome once. He has the making for it, but his days knocking back grain alcohol have weathered him. You see the early signs of Alloy addiction all over his face, scabs picked raw, leaving behind dark scarring, the track marks in his arms when he wears short sleeves.

Raucous noise reaches you from a group of Night Sphinxes watching your exchange. Their laughter and whistles echo across the street, backed by the loud hum of shitty neon and the now very bright and flickering holographic display ads spinning in windows. This is a nice show for them, you’re sure. Everyone on this edge of Market Town has seen Burro get his shit kicked, though usually not by you.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You start marching back to Montana. “You’re needed at the bar. You know, the place you manage.”

He mutters something behind you as he manages to get to his feet, tilted and tripping. You don’t catch what he says, eyes fixed on the sleek car that sits parked right in front of the door at Montana.

The road here isn’t really built for cars. It’s full of cracked faultlines and potholes, but Jimin has opted for a sharp-looking SUV with green LEDs running down the side and a little metal dragon on the grill. Not his personal car, but a business class that is no doubt reinforced with bulletproof windows and shatterwave tech.

There are four men standing around the car, dressed in pressed suits, each with a dragon brooch pinned to the front. They nod when you walk by and you keep your eyes low, feeling the different colors as you pass by: amethyst, sapphire, emerald. They have jewels drilled into their knuckles and some of their teeth, earrings of polished stone, and necklaces set with their respective caste colors.

Walking around with that much power is safe enough for them, but it makes your skin itch. Thinking of all that energy just waiting to be tapped into, waiting for them to radiate. The urge to reach for the power just a few feet away lessens as you walk inside of Montana.

Inside is a vision. Jimin’s loyal group of Green Dragons sit together in a booth, silent and heads down. Maki glances up for a split second as you come through the door, anger twitching on her face before she looks back down at the table in resolute silence, her curtain of black hair hiding her scowl.

Good. She could have used her fucking amethyst to wipe the now dead man from the map and not suffered a consequence under Jimin’s protection. And yet there you are, walking slowly toward the scene of the crime.

Jungkook is standing behind the bar chewing on his lip, hands linked behind his back as he watches the two men in front of him conversing. Bolero smokes a cigarette on the same stool he was on earlier, eyes fixated on the holo once again. The dead man is still very dead, Jimin’s men spread out around the bar to assess the damage.

Jimin is one of the two men speaking at the bar in front of Jungkook. Jimin’s dressed sharply in black dress pants and a matching black, tailored jacket with emerald buttons and a beautiful dragon broach set with emeralds and jade. His arms are crossed as he listens passively, dark hair slicked back. There’s a single dangling earring in one ear, a teardrop diamond at the end.

Jimin Park is one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. He reminds you of a dangerous jungle cat. His eyes are sharp, shadowed by a full-fan of dark lashes, cheeks round and soft in contrast to his elegant jawline. He smiles at something the man he’s talking to says, full lips rosebud pink.

Your eyes drift to the man talking to Jimin and before you can think twice about interrupting them, you’re yelling, “You!”

Both of the men jerk their heads in your direction. Jimin’s brows shoot up and he shakes his head as if to ask what the fuck? But you’re too distracted by the other man, who grins at you as soon as he realizes who you are, adjusting his floral shirt as he turns to face you head on.

You get a better look at him now and you’re angry to discover that he is still just as stunning as he was in the middle of the Market Town stalls. His hair is pushed back out of his face more, eyes twinkling as they drag up and down your frame. He wiggles his fingers at you in a wave.

“You can’t just steal tangerines!” you bark at him suddenly.

“What?” Jimin asks. He frowns and looks between the two of you. “I’m sorry, do you know one another?” The man says ‘no’ at the exact same time you say ‘sort of’ which makes Jimin’s jaw tick, patience waning. “Well? Which is it?”

“Seen her once,” the man admits. “But I don’t know her. She chased me through the streets of Market Town today like a lunatic. I think she took one look at me and fell in love.”

Your jaw drops. “You stole fruit from Margot’s fruit stand motherfucker! It had nothing to do with your good looks.”

“So you admit I’m good-looking!”

A failed attempt at a response comes sputtering out of you. You stop and start your sentences multiple times, trying to come up with a wicked riposte to his ridiculous insinuation that you think he’s attractive. Which you do, especially when he gives you a full, shit-eating gummy grin.

“Enough,” Jimin snaps in your direction. “Wait with Jungkook, I’ll deal with you later. And don’t interrupt me again, got it?”

You bow deeply at the command. You feel hot all over, an unpleasant mix of shame and something else that you can’t place for “Yes sir. I apologize for my outburst.”

Jimin turns away from you and back to the tangerine thief, leaving you to rush behind the bar to stand next to Jungkook while you stare at the two of them.

You have no idea who this man is. You’ve never seen him in the bar with Bolero, though it’s possible he’s come in when you’re not working. It isn’t likely, since there’s only one additional bartender besides you and Jungkook, but you can’t possibly imagine how this man is important enough to look Jimin in the eye when he speaks.

Jungkook gives you a head tilt and doe eyes. You shake your head, opting instead to study the object of your irritation rather than explaining. He doesn’t ask any questions but you can see the way he shifts back and forth, unsure of where to focus his energy.

As one of the family members in the city’s Armory, Jimin is one of the highest-ranking citizens in Diade. Though the Green Dragons are on the bottom of the totem in the Armory, Jimin ranks higher than most of the city by being the son of his family’s leader.

The man speaking to Jimin looks at him directly in the eyes as an equal. He is a hairsbreadth taller, but his gaze and tone are steady and respectful. There is no air of superiority between the two of them, making you wonder where exactly this smug man falls on the spectrum of city authority.

Each face of the Armory is familiar to you: the Parks, the Manobals, the Salibs, the Achilleos’ and the Kims. This man belongs to none of them and yet Jimin listens to him calmly, nodding his head at whatever the man is saying. Jimin’s arms are looped behind his back and he is poised as ever, even making a joke or two as they exchange words in hushed tones.

In Diade, the ruling family syndicates are the ultimate power. Jimin’s family owns the territory to the southeast, the Salib’s directly to the north, the Manobals to the west. You stick to Park territory only, always mindful of where each Armory boundary lies.

Despite Jimin’s favoritism, you’re not a high-ranking member of the Park family’s Green Dragons. Jimin thinks you’re useful enough though, and has a soft heart for strays. Jungkook is proof enough of that as you are, two little sources of information and loyalty in his personal pocket.

You work for Jimin, not his mother.

The respect that Jimin shows the tangerine thief leads to a few possibilities of who he could be. Under the rule of the Armory, there are other smaller and less organized gangs. The Circles are not particularly powerful and still concede to the Armory, but they range from loose bands of idiots and thieves to highly organized factions. There are dozens of Circles in the city, but only a few are powerful enough to earn a smile from Jimin Park, the prince of the Green Dragons.

Chewing your lip, your mind runs through a list of possible Circles this man could rank high enough in to matter. White Fang has always worked with the Green Dragons well. Their members can sometimes be found hanging out in Montana with tight if not overly polite smiles while they conduct business. While White Fang answers to all of the families of the Armory as a collective governing body, they are particularly fond of the Parks.

There is little chance that the tangerine thief belongs to the Midnight Sun. As the largest and most powerful Circle, they are only allied to the Kim family. Dangerous for any Circle to declare allyship to only a single governing body, but the Kim family sits at the top of the food chain. Being protected by Yujun and his son Seokjin have its strengths.

Your vision blurs when you think of the Kim family. Seokjin’s beautiful smile, the way his inky eyes glitter. He remains the most eternal person you’ve ever laid eyes on, and one of the most charming. Funny, smooth talking, intelligent.

But Seokjin is a snake. A beautiful thing that can fool you into a false sense of security before striking and sinking his fangs in deep.

Nausea unfurls in your stomach at the thought of him. You blink a few times, willing away the memories of him and his high-pitched laughter and anything else to do with him. Jimin shakes the man’s hand in front of you. It draws your attention to where their hands meet. Jimin’s hand is small and delicate in the large hand of the tangerine thief. A man who was raised with privilege and a man you suspect made his own.

“I’ll be back,” Jimin calls. You realize he’s talking to you and you bow. He turns his attention to the group of his gang members sitting at the table, waiting for their punishment. He whistles at them, calling them like dogs. “With me.”

You can’t help but feel a little smug as they jump up, tangled over one another to get out of the booth as fast as possible to follow Jimin toward the front door. None of them look at you or Jungkook, chins tucked to their chest and eyes on the floor. At least they’re good dogs who know when they’re going to be punished.

“Hello again.”

The tangerine thief is leaning on the bar. Up close, he smells like sandalwood and a hint of sea salt. It isn’t unpleasant, but you grimace all the same. There are bracelets on his wrist, but no jewels. The prickling, needle-like sensation comes back, right at the back of your neck.

“Jungkook, can you start cleaning up?” You ask. He nods and dashes away, giving the stranger a single nervous glance as he joins the security members of Jimin’s team cleaning up.

They pick up the body and carry him through the bag on Jungkook’s guidance, dripping blood the entire way. Bolero doesn’t even glance as they pass him, still transfixed by the holoscreen.

“Why did you use a shatterwave?”

Your eyes drift back to the man in front of you. Up close, you notice that his skin is flawless. He has a shine and glow to him of a healthy Radiant, and yet you’re not sure how to place him on the caste. You know he’s a radiant from his escape methods in Market Town, but you’ve never had this much trouble placing someone on the caste. “What?”

“The shatterwave. Had to hurt you too, I imagine.”

“Well no one else was going to do anything,” you answer, skirting his assertion that you’re a Radiant. “It didn’t hurt that bad. I’m a Light Radiant.”

He raises his brows. “Oh, you’re a liar.”

“About some things, sure. I can’t take on an emerald caste, though. So I used a shatterwave.”

“There’s an emerald in your boot.”

You grit your teeth. He doesn’t make sense. The needling feeling only increases as he cocks his head, scanning you from head to toe. His pout turns into a smirk and there’s something heated in his gaze that makes you squirm as you shift back and forth on your feet, trying to place him.

Sensing jewel frequencies outside of the jewel you radiate most with is difficult. Energy is a fickle thing, and though you can feel the buzz of every color of jewel around you, most Radiants can’t. They can only sense what jewel they vibrate on the same frequency as, though trained Radiants can sense their assigned jewel and lighter.

This puts the tangerine thief at emerald or darker. If he can sense the emerald in your shoe, it means he can use it. Unless he is a rare case like you and Jungkook, who are frequency sensitive. But he doesn’t feel like emerald and he doesn’t feel like he sits darker at garnet and onyx.

You shiver remembering what onyx feels like, an oppressive and demanding thing.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lied,” you offer. You can keep skirting the topic of the emerald in your shoe, but he already knows it's there.

He chuckles. It’s raspy and soft as a whisper. There’s no doubt he’s used to the effect he has on people. It reminds you a little of Seokjin and you feel skittish.

“No, I’m sure you are quite the liar.” He leans in a little bit. “I’m Agust, by the way.”

Schooling your features is hard. Out of all of the Circles that crossed your mind that he could belong to, you never considered Black Lotus. It makes sense, you suppose, that Bolero belongs to the Black Lotus. It’s one of the few Circles in the city that not only accept Nulls in their ranks, but encourage it. A little oasis for Radiants and Nulls alike to claw their way to the top from the bottom of the barrel.

My boss will pay for the damage and deal with the Salibs. You think of Bolero’s comment, realizing why he was so confident. His boss is the leader of the Black Lotus, a chaotic thorn in the Armory’s side who walks around the Crown Cities undermining authority where he can.

Agust smiles, pride bleeding through when you recognize his name. He’s a little notorious for the destruction of three Circles associated with the Kim family and for donating thousands of nil to squatters in Blows. A violent killer with a soft spot for charity. Strange, and not quite as heroic as some seem to think it is.

Instead of saying anything, you busy yourself with folding rags, feeling the way of his gaze. Agust is pretty with a soft edge to his face and a charming grin. There’s a confidence about him that draws the eye, and yet he can blend in just like he did at Margot’s fruit stand. He is both sides of the moon, light and dark, switching whenever it suits him.

Again, he reminds you of Seokjin and your heart squeezes as you take a step away from him.

“Well, I hope you have a great evening, Agust.” It's dismal. Polite, but an end to the conversation nevertheless.

He isn’t swayed. “What, no name?”

“Do you need it?”

“I’d like it. Is it as pretty as you are?”

“Your flattery isn’t welcome here.”

“Then what is?”

You glare. “The money for Margot’s tangerine.”

Agust chuckles again and shrugs. You expect him to walk away or volley back with a riposte but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the nil that Margot is owed and sets them on the counter, the silver coins clinking against the wood. He leans against the bar again, hand cupping his chin as he looks up at you.

“This cover me?”

You swipe the coins off the bar and sniff. “I suppose.”

“I like you. How about I call you Montana, hmm? Since you won’t give me a name, I’ll make one for you.”

Instead of looking at him directly, you busy yourself with moving around the syrup bottles in their plastic bin. “You don’t have to call me anything.”

“Or Garnet?”

For a second, you stare at your hands before slowly dragging your gaze to him where he watches you, feline-eyes glittering. That pinprick feeling returns sharper than ever. You’re a mouse caught under the watchful gaze of a hungry cat.

There are only a handful of people in the world that knows you sit on the second darkest color of the Jewel Caste. One of them is outside giving his gang members the lashing of a lifetime, one of them is sitting in a luxurious home in Aria and the other is no doubt watching cameras on the casino floor of Kaiju.

Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. You think about the first time you radiated at garnet, the power so raw and rich that you were almost drunk on it. You were just a kid, untrained in how to syphon energy that volatile. You’d become sick right after, taking too much too fast and completely unaware of how to channel all that energy.

The Kim’s had helped you find a way. And then used it to their advantage, a little girl with no one else to count on with all that power just waiting to be directed.

You refused to ever be used for your place on the Jewel Caste ever again.

“Say it again,” you murmur, voice low. Your hands open and close and you feel the emerald surge in your boot. Agust is either onyx or frequency sensitive, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve gone head to head with darker than you before. “I dare you.”

To your surprise, his smile is sad this time. There’s a moment you think you see understanding. Compassion. Something soft. Then it’s gone and he gives you a brief nod before pushing away from the bar, running a hand through his hair. You don’t move, muscles locked and primed to lash out, to grind him to dust if you have to. You don’t have a garnet, but you don’t need it. You can do just as much damage with an emerald, regardless of whatever color he is.

“Put the claws away, your secret is safe with me.” He nods to the pool of blood on the floor. “You have my apologies for the mess. Black Lotus will handle the fallout. Tell Bolero if any of those Night Sphinx fucks give you any trouble. You have my word I’ll pay my debt.”

“What debt?”

He jerks his thumb at Bolero. “You saved his worthless ass.” You don’t disagree but you say nothing. He lingers for a second, looking you up and down. Something passes his face that makes your heart speed up a little. “I mean it. Call if you need.”

“I won't.”

He grins. “Bye, Montana.”

When Agust turns to leave, Bolero gets up and goes with him. When the door shuts, it’s just you and the sound of Jungkook and Jimin’s men putting the bar back together.

No one can hear how loud your heart thunders.

THE JEWEL CASTE (from least to most powerful)

Light Caste

Diamond Citrine Aquamarine Jade Rose

Mid Caste

Peridot Topaz Turquoise Ruby Smokey

Dark Caste

Emerald Amethyst Sapphire Garnet Onyx

THE CHAOTIC CASTE (in general, from least to most powerful)

Opal Quartz Tourmaline Carnelian Obsidian

GLOSSARY

Alloy - A drug that allows radiants to lift frequency for a temporary amount of time and meld with a jewel they cannot normally radiate with. Caste Drop - When someone drops a color on the Jewel Caste and vibrates at a higher frequency Circle - Lower gangs who are not in the Armory Dark Radiant - Those who vibrate at the low-colors and high frequencies Jewel Caste - The order of least to most powerful vibrational jewel frequencies Light Radiant - Those who vibrate at the lighter colors and lower frequencies Mid Radiant - Those who vibrate at the mid-colors and medium frequencies Null - Those who don’t vibrate at the same frequency as the jewels and cannot radiate Radiant - Those who vibrate at the same frequency as the jewels and thus can radiate Shatterwave - A type of device that lets out high-frequency sounds to shatter Radiant frequencies in a certain radius Unjeweled - A radiant who doesn’t have any jewels on them to help radiate

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