#I don’t think HE knows his original name anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hxxsxxng · 6 months ago

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Past Wounds, Present Hearts P.SH

「Pairing」 : exbully!sunghoon x fem!reader

「Word Count」 : 10.5k

「Genre」 : smut, angst, somewhat fluff, college au

「Summary」 : you have felt resentment for sunghoon ever since the hell he put you through in middle school. now you find out he goes to your university.... and he's kinda hot?

「Warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! mentions of bullying, lower quality of life due to bullying, self doubt, mentions of drinking alcohol, implied intoxication in some scenes, college parties, sunghoon calls reader petnames, kissing, sharing a bed, nipple play, fingering, titty sucking, handjob, sunghoon turns out to be a sweetheart, cum eating, falling asleep together, and more

「Authors Note」 : i originally intended for the story to have a different ending but i changed my mind half way though and it would have been too fast paced for the word count given, i will definitely make a part two if enough people ask! not proofread

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I hate him. The smug look on his face when I walk pass him in the main campus hall. All of the girls clawing on to his shoulder, begging for his attention without knowing what fucking loser he is. The way all of the professors are so impressed with him for doing practically nothing in class. Getting a full ride scholarship for basketball to this school. I have grown sick of it.

Park Sunghoon. The name still twists my stomach after all these years. Middle school was when my hatred started for Him. He was my middle school bully. Always teasing me in front of the whole class, or making comments behind my back. What hurts the most is that he doesn’t seem to care that he used to act this way, or maybe he thinks I have forgotten. The truth is, I will never forget. It sits at the back of my mind all of the time. The people who know me from middle school still view me as this ‘disgusting’ girl who was unlikeable, because of the things that Sunghoon would do to me.

It took years for me to build myself back up, so when I saw that he was planning on going to the same university as me last fall, I was more than worried. But this wasn’t middle school anymore. I can’t let him get away with treating me like an outcast who doesn’t deserve friends.First semester of university is always scary, I was always afraid to come out my shell and meet new people. I wanted to stay on top of acedemics. My best friend Yuqi was the complete opposite. Any opportunity she got to go out and party, she would be there. And, she would surprisingly maintain decent grades as well. Now that I think about it, I have never been a party goer, not even in highschool. Then again, there weren’t too many parties that either sounded interesting, or that I was invited to.

“Kappa Alpha is having a party this Friday, you in?” Yuqi suggested. She always gets the same response. “No, you already know I can’t, we have finals next week” I shrugged. “But Kappaaaaaa!” Yuqi whined, her voice getting higher every passing second. We were walking down the hallway towards our classes. A few students looked over, but quickly decided that they didn’t want to look any further. “I hear that Kappa Alpha has the best Christmas parties every year. You have to come” Yuqi insisted, grabbing onto my arm. I rolled my eyes. “Yuqi… You don’t actually think I’m going to attend one of their parties?” Yuqi gave me a confused stare, trying to read through my expression. “Why not?” “Sunghoon is in that frat, I’m pretty sure he lives in the frat house as well. You would catch me dead before seeing me step foot into that trashy hell hole” I explained, crossing my arm defensively. She knows how he treated me in middle school, she was there to witness it.

“What? He can’t be, out of all the parties I have gone to there, I have not seen him a singular time” Yuqi said with her eyebrows furrowed, putting emphasis into each word.. I tried to tell her that yes, he is the type of guy to hide out in the frat house and not attend, but she had no idea. After some debate, she eventually gave up asking me.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above me. Yuqi's words echoed in my mind, mixing with memories I'd rather forget. The Christmas lights strung across my dorm room cast a soft glow, but they did little to brighten my mood.

I rolled onto my side, hugging my pillow close. Why did Sunghoon have to be here, at my university, in my space? It wasn't fair. I'd worked so hard to leave that part of my life behind, to become someone new. Someone stronger.

But was I really stronger if I was still letting him dictate my choices? I grabbed my phone, thumb hovering over Yuqi's contact. She was probably out somewhere, living it up like she always did. I envied her sometimes, her ability to just… exist without all this baggage.

"Maybe I should go," I whispered to the empty room. The words felt foreign on my tongue. Me? At a Kappa Alpha party? It was absurd.

I sat up, running a hand through my messy hair. Yuqi would be ecstatic if I went. And isn't that what college is supposed to be about? New experiences, stepping out of your comfort zone?

But then I imagined walking into that frat house, the pulsing music, the crowded rooms. And somewhere in there, Sunghoon. Everybody loving him not knowing the kind of cruel person he is on the inside. My stomach clenched at the thought.

"This is stupid," I muttered, flopping back onto my bed. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone."

But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't true. I did need to prove something - to myself. That I could face my past, that I could exist in the same space as Sunghoon without falling apart.

I picked up my phone again, this time opening my messages to Yuqi. "Hey," I typed, then paused. Was I really doing this? My finger hovered over the send button as doubt crept in. But then I thought of Yuqi's excited face, of the possibility of actually enjoying myself for once.

Before I could change my mind, I quickly typed out the rest of the message and hit send. "Hey. About that Kappa Alpha party… I think I might go after all." I set my phone down, my heart racing. What had I just agreed to?Yuqi didn’t see my message until the morning, but I can only imagine her physical reaction after reading her written one. “Really???? I never thought this day would come. I promise you will love it!!!” my screen read. Her overuse of punctuation was telling enough about she felt. It was Friday morning, meaning that the party was going to be later in tonight. If I plan my time correctly, we can leave my dorm around 8pm, and I would have had all of the studying done that at I needed to do for the night.

I couldn’t help feeling nervous at the thought of attending a party with Sunghoon, but I decided that this may be the perfect chance to get to know him better. Okay, not ‘get to know him better’ but maybe this could finally give him a chance to clear the air between us, to apologize properly for everything that he did to me. But the chances of him apologizing are slim to none. When I see him in campus he seems to be the snobby type, unable to admit that they are wrong. Trust me, I have heard the stories going around campus.

I spent the rest of the day in a fog, my mind drifting between lectures and study sessions. The impending party loomed over me, a mix of dread and nervous anticipation.

By the time I returned to my dorm, the sun was already setting. I sat at my desk, attempting to review my notes, but the words blurred together. My phone buzzed - another excited text from Yuqi about outfit choices. I sighed, closing my textbook. There was no point in pretending to study anymore.

~~~~~

At 7:00, a knock at my door announced Yuqi's arrival. She entered with her usual whirlwind energy, arms full of clothes and makeup. "Okay," she said, dumping everything onto my bed. "Let's make you look amazing."

I eyed the pile warily. "Yuqi, I'm not trying to impress anyone. Especially not Sunghoon." She paused, giving me a soft look. "This isn't about him. It's about you feeling good about yourself. Now, let's start with this sweater."

For the next half hour, we sifted through outfits. Yuqi was patient, letting me veto anything too revealing or flashy. We finally settled on a soft, cropped sweater and high-waisted jeans - comfortable, but still party-appropriate.

As I changed, Yuqi chatted about her day, her excitement for the party. Her casual banter helped ease my nerves, reminding me why I'd agreed to this in the first place. This was about spending time with my best friend, not about Sunghoon.

We left my dorm at 8:15, the cool night air a welcome relief for my flushed cheeks. The walk to the frat house was short, but with each step, the butterflies in my stomach intensified. Music pulsed in the distance, growing louder as we approached.

Outside the house, we paused. Yuqi squeezed my hand. "You okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah. Let's do this."

We stepped inside, and I was immediately overwhelmed. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and too many bodies in too small a space. Yuqi leaned close, "I'm going to get us some drinks. Will you be okay for a minute?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. As she disappeared into the crowd, I stood there, taking in my surroundings. Groups of people clustered around, laughing and dancing. I recognized a few faces from classes, but no one I knew well.

And then, across the room, I saw him. Sunghoon, leaning against a wall, surrounded by his usual admirers. He was laughing at something someone said, his head thrown back. For a moment, I was transported back to middle school, hearing that laugh directed at me, mocking and cruel.

Our eyes met for a brief second, and I swear I saw something flicker in his expression. Surprise? Recognition? But before I could process it, someone bumped into me, breaking the moment.

I turned away, my heart pounding. What was I doing here? This was a mistake. I was about to head for the door when Yuqi reappeared, pressing a red cup into my hand.

"Here," she said with a smile. "It'll help you relax." I took a small sip, the unfamiliar burn of alcohol hitting the back of my throat. As we stood there, Yuqi chatting animatedly about the people around us, I felt myself slowly start to unwind. Maybe agreeing to come here wasn’t too bad of an idea.I was just starting to relax, the music and Yuqi's chatter creating a comfortable bubble around us, when I saw him approaching. Sunghoon, weaving through the crowd, his eyes fixed on... us? No, it couldn't be. But it was.

He stopped right in front of us, that infuriatingly perfect smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Yuqi," he said, his voice smooth as ever. Then his eyes slid to me. "And Y/N,… it's been a while, hasn't it?" I felt my body tense, my grip tightening on the red cup in my hand. Yuqi glanced between us, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of concern. "Sunghoon," I managed to say, my voice coming out colder than I'd intended. But then again, why should I care? He seemed unfazed by my tone. "I didn't expect to see you here. You're not usually the party type, right?" The casual way he said it, as if he knew me, as if we were old friends catching up, made my blood boil. How dare he act so nonchalant after everything? "People change," I replied curtly. "Not that you'd know anything about that." I avoided eye contact. I saw Yuqi wince beside me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Sunghoon's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of... something passing across his face. Confusion? Hurt? Good.

"Right," he said, recovering quickly. Looking down at the ground with a half smile, he takes my snarky response as a que to leave. “I’ll see you around, (Y/N)” he scoffs and walks away.

“He is such an asshole” Yuqi complains, rubbing my back as a way to try to comfort me. “You responded well” I watched Sunghoon's tall, muscular figure get lost in the crowd, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me felt satisfied with how I'd handled the encounter, but another part felt... unsettled. I took a long swig from my cup, hoping the alcohol would dull the conflicting feelings. "Thanks," I mumbled to Yuqi, grateful for her support. She gave me a reassuring smile, but I could see the concern in her eyes. "Do you want to leave? We can if you're not comfortable." I considered it for a moment. The idea of going back to my dorm, burying myself in my blankets and pretending this night never happened, was tempting. But then I thought about how that's exactly what the old me would have done. The me that let Sunghoon's actions dictate her life.

"No," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "I'm not leaving. I have just as much right to be here as he does." Yuqi's face broke into a wide grin. "That's my girl!" she cheered, linking her arm through mine. "Let's mingle a bit, shall we?" As we made our way through the crowded room, I couldn't help but notice Sunghoon's gaze following us. Every time I glanced in his direction, he looked away, but not before I caught a flicker of... something in his eyes. It wasn't the cruel amusement I remembered from our school days. It was something else, something I couldn't quite place.

Yuqi introduced me to a few of her friends, and I found myself actually enjoying the conversations. It felt... normal. Like maybe I could do this whole college social scene thing after all. But then, over someone's shoulder, I saw Sunghoon again. He was looking right at us, his expression unreadable. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt a jolt of... something. Before I could analyze it further, he quickly averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Wait, was Sunghoon blushing? I shook off the thought. It was probably just the alcohol playing tricks on my mind.

As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The alcohol helped, but it was more than that. Every minute I spent here, laughing with Yuqi and her friends, was a minute I was reclaiming for myself. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every so often, I'd catch Sunghoon looking in my direction. But it wasn't the mocking stare I was used to. There was something almost... wistful about it. Once, when our eyes met, he even offered a small, hesitant smile before quickly turning the other way. I don’t understand why he is trying to smile at me. It was confusing, to say the least. This wasn't the Sunghoon I remember. The Sunghoon who had made my life miserable. This Sunghoon seemed... different. Unsure. Almost vulnerable. As Yuqi and I were preparing to leave, I excused myself to use the bathroom. On my way back, I quite literally bumped into Sunghoon in the hallway. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, steadying me with a hand on my arm. The touch sent an unexpected jolt through me. "You okay?" I nodded, unsureness in my voice. We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. "Listen, Y/N," he started, then paused, running a hand through his jet black hair. "I... I'm glad you came tonight. It was good to see you."

Before I could respond, he quickly walked away, leaving me standing there, completely baffled. It wasn't until much later, as Yuqi and I were stumbling back to our dorms, arms linked and giggling about nothing in particular, that I realized something. For the first time in years, I'd spent an entire evening in the same space as Sunghoon without letting it ruin my night. And more than that, I was left with the strangest feeling that maybe there was more to Sunghoon than I'd allowed myself to see. As I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted but oddly content, I couldn't help but feel like something had shifted. I wasn't naive enough to think one party had erased years of hurt and resentment. But maybe it was a start.

~~~~~

The next morning I woke up disoriented, borderline hungover. Roll over to the side to check the time on my phone. 11:09AM? It honestly felt like I slept for three days with how many drinks I consumed. I look further down the screen to see the notifications:

1:18 AM: @prksnghn02 started following you!

1:19 AM: @prksnghn02 Liked your post!

I must have fallen asleep to quickly too see this last night, but that was definitely right after we left the party.

I scroll through the conversation, smiling slightly at the messages

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 Hey! You still here?

2:11 AM: @prksnghn02 I get it if you don’t want to speak to me.

Why was he messaging me. What gives him the right? I igonore the message and delete the message request. All that before my thumb hesitantly hovered over the follow button on his profile, eventually turning it grey. I spent the weekend as usual, going to my job at night and studying in the mornings. Though I had the awkward interaction with Sunghoon at one party, I think that I could see myself going with Yuqi to another party some time. Not soon though because finals start on Monday and I have to pass to keep my financial aid. That’s another thing that pisses me off. I work day and night to pay for my schooling by myself, and Sunghoon gets it all handed to him for being okay at basketball. He teased me for growing up less wealthy than him, but if he were in my shoes, he wouldn’t have thought it was so funny.

Monday morning I was walking through the main hall on campus, where they have to coffee shop that I occasionally stop by. Of course this time when I went, Sunghoon was standing at the bookstore across the walk way, talking to his girl-toys. It took everything in me to not make things awkward by looking in his direction, but for the split second I looked that way, he was already eyeing me down. I pretended to not notice, continuing into the coffee shop line as I would do normally. The line was fairly short. I looked down at my phone to distract myself until it was my turn to order. “I am sorry (Y/N)” a familiar voice says behind me, him lightly grazing my shoulder.

My eyes immediately snap to the owner of the voice. His brown eyes were staring directly into mine as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking just by looking at me. And I know he can. ‘Hey’ he seems to say, flashing me the smallest of smirks as his hand rests on the counter to my left. I scoff in disbelief. He really is serious now isn’t he. I try to ignore him and continue with my order, but Sunghoon stops me in my tracks. My heart starts hammering harder in my chest as I glance around to make sure no one overheard. “Hey (Y/N),” he repeats, giving me his infamous smirk. “I really am sorry” he continues. He’s watching me with a curious tilt to his head as he waits for my response.

“Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we can talk some more?” For a fraction of a moment, it’s hard to believe what’s happening.

“Whatever you are trying to do, I don’t want any part of it” I said sternly, trying to shoo him away. I know he could see the annoyance on my face but that wasn’t enough to get him to leave. “Please, I want to make things right” he begged with a hint of charm in his voice. He reaches out to hold my wrist but this time instead of swatting him away, I let him. If anyone deserves an apology it should be me. He takes a step closer to me, tilting his head slightly. “Fine I guess, but do not expect to get anything out of me” I agreed hesitantly. His facial expression completely changed from worried to… relieved? We ordered together in line while I tried my best to ignore him. His scent was a distraction. It was captivating. It was comparable to mohagany and mint. Admittedly, he is tall and handsome, even when we were in middle school he had always been cute. But I would never say that out loud. Eventually, his named was called and we both went up to grab our drinks. “Thank you Sunghoon” I said while looking down, trying to get out of the situation as soon a possible. “Wait” he says before I get to far away. “I will text you” he added. I half way smiled and walked away.

~~~~~

At lunch, I found myself leaning against Yuqi as we sat at one of our tables outside. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Better” I admitted. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I think I’m doing better” She nodded, seemingly satisfied by my reply.

“Yuqi?” I spoke again once I had my full attention back on her. She turned her attention towards me expectantly.

“Why don’t you give him another chance?” she sighed, rolling her neck around. “I mean, he seems like he is genuinely trying to make it up to you.”

“Yes he is putting in the effort now, but the pain that he put me through doesn’t just go away in an instant, it will take time for me to trust him”

“I understand” she muttered.

~~~~~

A few days had passed but I had never received a message from Sunghoon. Maybe he forgot or maybe he was scared…. I don’t know. But I can’t help but to think that I was maybe looking forward to that message. Yuqi was right, maybe he does deserve another chance. The library was my number one studying location. It was quiet, I could focus, and nobody bothers me. I actually have some time to myself. I have tested out every study area here and the to floor is by far my favorite. I press the 5 on the elevator control pad, and as the doors start closing, someone’s hand is placed between the doors, causing them to shoot back open. It was Sunghoon. I awkwardly scoot to the edge of the confined space to make sure there was more than enough room between us. His eyes light up when he realizes I was the one in the elevator.

“Would it be a problem if I rode with you?” he asked hesitatingly with an awkward smile.

“No, why would there be a problem?” I replied quickly. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds after my answer, and then I heard the elevator ding and the doors slowly start closing again. God, being around him gave me mixed emotions. His aura is so captivating, but his personality is the opposite. And not to mention that mohagany scent again. We rode to the fifth floor in total silence and exited the elevator once it stopped. When we both made way out of the elevator to walk our own directions, He gently grazed my shoulder and said “Good luck with finals” and walked the other direction.

Later that same evening while I was still on the library, my phone pinged with a new notification.

prksnghn02: Hey are you available?

prksnghn02: I know I said I was sorry but I really want you to know how I feel. I can’t do it over text.

I think this is the message that I have been waiting to see. I would appreciate to see him and have him fully apologize, though I don’t think this is the right time. It’s the middle of finals week and lord knows I am already struggling as is. I look up from my phone, observing my surroundings, and spot Sunghoon across the almost empty room lounging on a library bean-bag. Alone. That’s a first considering his royalty equivalent status on campus. He was clearly looking at me when I opened his message.

yourusername: Hey, sorry. I really need to study for this Sociology final. I can definitely carve out a time to meet next week.

I look up at him and point at my phone, making a frowny face and his expression mirrors mine.

prksnghn02: Who is the professor? I aced my sociology class I took over the summer. If you need any help lmk.

He looks at me with a thumbs up. His offer seems tempting, but what would I do? Sit there and hear him lecture me? It would already be hard enough to pay attention given how his arms are looking in that black fitted top.

yourusername: I will think about it.

I try to focus on my sociology notes, but my eyes keep drifting back to Sunghoon. He's still lounging on the bean bag, but now he has a textbook open on his lap. Every so often, he glances up, catching my eye before we both quickly look away. The tension is palpable, even from across the room. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This is getting ridiculous. I'm here to study, not to play this weird game of cat and mouse with my former bully turned... what? Potential friend? The thought makes me uncomfortable. I make a split second decision on impulse and grab my phone, maybe regretting my decision later.

yourusername: Okay fine, come help me.

I witness Sunghoon look at his phone and shoot up out of his seat within the span of 3 seconds. Impressive. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as Sunghoon practically skidded to a stop in front of my desk. It was a stark contrast to his usual nonchalance. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, I was back in middle school, his laughter echoing in the halls, the same laughter that used to sting.

“So, sociology huh?” he said with the most awkward tone possible. “What do you need help with” he continues, signaling his hand towards my messy notes. My notebook has definitely seen better days. I sighed, shoving my phone into the abyss of my backpack.

"Everything feels like gibberish. Professor Ramirez throws these massive lectures at us, and it all just blends together." Surprised laughter rumbled out of him.

"Ramirez? Yeah, he can be a bit much. But trust me, sociology isn't actually that complicated. Let's see your notes." Tentatively, I slid my well-worn notebook across the desk. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing in concentration. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of turning paper. I snuck a peek at him. His features were softened by a focus I wouldn't have expected. "Okay," he finally said, looking up. "This isn't so bad. You've got the basic concepts down. I think you're just getting overwhelmed by the details."

Relief flooded me. Maybe I wasn't completely incompetent after all. He settled into the chair across from me, his arm brushing mine for a moment as he reached for a pen. He continued to sort through my notes, trying to piece together what I may not be understanding. He was surprisingly patient with me, and even created examples for me to try and understand better. Not to mention that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as he spoke. His black hair falling loosely in front of his dark brown eyes and black glasses was so sexy.

"So basically, social stratification is like the ranking system within a society?" I summarized, feeling a flicker of accomplishment. Sunghoon grinned, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Exactly! See, you were getting it all along." He paused, then reached for a specific page in my notes.

"Now, let's talk about power structures and how they influence social mobility…" Time melted away as Sunghoon patiently guided me through the sociological knowledge. I peppered him with questions, surprised by my own comfort level.

He answered them all with good humor and a surprising depth of knowledge that made him seem worlds apart from the bully I knew in middle school and the jock he is now. I looked at his face once again, admiring the way he furrowed his eye brows when he concentrated. I am snapped out of my trance with

“What?” Sunghoon questioned me, tilting his face to the side. I couldn’t even comprehend what had happened until a second or two later.

“Nothing! It’s nothing. Go on with what you were saying” I averted my eyes towards the table to try and hide the blood in my cheeks. “Heh, Okay….” he chuckles fiddling with the ring on his finger. He pauses for a few seconds and picks up with “You should get home soon. You don’t wanna have late nights, right?”

He looks me dead in the eye as he says this, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. I glanced at my phone, startled to see it was already 1 AM. We'd been studying for hours without realizing it. The library, usually bustling with stressed students, was now eerily quiet.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize how late it got," I mumbled, hastily gathering my notes. Sunghoon stretched, his shirt riding up slightly. I pretended not to notice.

"Yeah, time flies when you're having fun with sociology, right?" he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "Right, because power structures are just a barrel of laughs." As we packed up our things, Sunghoon hesitated, then asked, "Hey, um, would you like me to walk you back to your dorm? It's pretty late." I paused, considering. The old me would have immediately refused, not wanting to spend an extra second with him.

But now... "Sure," I found myself saying. "That would be nice." We stepped out into the cool night air, the campus very quiet around us. For a moment, we walked in silence, the only sound our footsteps on the pavement.

"So," Sunghoon started, breaking the silence. "Did you find the study session helpful?" I nodded, surprised by my own honesty.

"Yeah, actually. You explain things... differently than I expected." He raised an eyebrow.

"Different good or different bad?"

"Different good," I admitted. "You're more... patient than I thought you'd be." Sunghoon chuckled softly. "Well, don't sound so surprised. Im not just a handsome face ya know.” I felt a retort forming on my lips, but bit it back.

“Yeah yeah, don’t flatter yourself.” As we walked, I couldn't help but sneak glances at him. In the soft glow of the street lamps, he looked... different. Softer somehow. Less like the arrogant boy I'd built up in my mind and more like... well, just a guy. "You know," he said suddenly, his voice quiet. "I meant what I said before. About being sorry." I felt my body tense. "Sunghoon, we don't have to-"

"No, please," he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. I turned to face him, surprised by the earnestness in his eyes. "I was a jerk in middle school. More than a jerk. I was cruel, and I've regretted it for years. I just... I want you to know that. I am sorry." I stood there, stunned. This vulnerability was so at odds with the Sunghoon I thought I knew.

"I... thank you," were the only words that were able to come out of my mouth. - I turned to face towards him as we reached the enterance of my dorm building. “Okay, I guess I can take it from here” I said, grabbing my key card out of my backpack.

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.” I entered the building and the door was already halfway closed before Sunghoon grabbed it and called out behind me, "Wait!” I stopped mid step and turned to meet his curious gaze, confused by what he could possibly want to say. I gave him a questioning look as he approached me slowly. His hands fidgeted nervously, and he took one last glance around, making sure no one was watching before reaching up to touch my cheek hesitantly. His thumb brushed the area under my eye lightly, his hand moving downwards slowly until he rested his palm flat on my jaw. I was somehow okay with this, despite the butterflies in my stomach.

My heart thudded loudly against my chest as I stared at his hand resting gently on my skin, unable to tear my gaze away from his. There was something magnetic about the way his eyes bore into me with an intensity I have never felt. “Have a good night, (Y/N)” he said softly, grazing my bottom lip with his thumb. He leaned down slowly while gazing into my eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. My breath hitched as he brought his other hand up and cradled my cheek, brushing some loose strands of hair out of my face. “You too, Sunghoon”

~~~~~

The end of finals week had finally come and I am not exaggerating when I say that this is the most relieved I have ever been in my life. I was lounging on my bed scrolling through tik tok and I saw a message pop up at the top of my screen.

prksnghn02: Hey! A few of us are having a small get-together at the frat house to celebrate surviving finals. You and Yuqi should come.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. A month ago, I would've immediately declined. But now… things were different. The study session with Sunghoon, our late-night walk, the way he'd touched my face before saying goodnight - it all swirled in my mind, a confusing mix of old resentment and new… something.

yourusername: Let me check with Yuqi. What time?

His response was almost immediate.

prksnghn02: Around 8? It's just a few people, nothing crazy. Promise it won't be like last time.

I couldn't help but smile at that. The last party had been a turning point, in a way.

yourusername: Okay, I'll let you know.

I rolled over, dialing Yuqi's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Please tell me you're calling to drag me out of this post-finals funk," she groaned.

I laughed. "Actually, yeah. Sunghoon invited us to a small thing at the frat house. You in?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Sunghoon, huh? You two seem to be getting along better."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "We're… working on it," I admitted. "So, you coming or what?"

"Obviously," she said. "I'll be at yours in an hour. We need to talk about this Sunghoon situation, by the way."

I groaned. "There's no 'situation', Yuqi."

"Uh-huh. Sure. See you soon!"

She hung up before I could protest further. I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

An hour later, Yuqi was sprawled on my bed, watching me rummage through my closet.

"So," she said, drawing out the word. "You and Sunghoon, huh?"

I threw a shirt at her. "There's no 'me and Sunghoon'. We're just… I don't know. Not enemies anymore, I guess."

Yuqi sat up, her expression serious. "Look, I know he was awful to you in middle school. But people change, you know? And he seems to be really trying."

I sighed, sitting down next to her. "I know. It's just… complicated."

She bumped my shoulder with hers. "Life's complicated. Doesn't mean you can't give it a chance."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Yuqi always had a way of cutting through my defenses.

"Now," she said, her tone lightening. "Let's find you something cute to wear. Just because it's not a 'situation' doesn't mean you can't look hot."

I rolled my eyes, but let her pull me back to the closet.The frat house was quieter than I'd ever seen it. No pulsing music, no crowds of people. Just the soft murmur of conversation and laughter drifting from the back patio. Sunghoon met us at the door, his face lighting up when he saw us. "Hey! You made it." he said, ushering us inside. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I felt a flutter in my stomach. "Drinks are in the kitchen, we're all out back."

As we followed him through the house, I couldn't help but notice how different he seemed here, in his element. Relaxed, open, a far cry from the popular Sunghoon I was used to seeing on campus. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly attractive. The back patio was strung with fairy lights, casting a warm glow over the small group gathered there. I recognized a few faces from classes, but it was indeed a much smaller crowd than the usual frat parties.

Yuqi immediately gravitated towards a group she knew, leaving me standing awkwardly by the door. Sunghoon appeared at my side, two red cups in hand. "Here," he said, offering me one. "It's just punch, but fair warning - Heeseung made it, so it's probably stronger than it tastes." I took a sip, the sweetness masking the unmistakable burn of alcohol. "Thanks for inviting us," I said, surprised by how much I meant it. Sunghoon's smile was soft, almost shy. "I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure if you would." "Honestly? I wasn't sure either," I admitted. He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. Come on, let me introduce you to some people." As the night wore on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The punch was indeed strong, but the warm buzz it provided was pleasant.

Sunghoon stayed close, always making sure I was included in conversations, laughing at my jokes, his hand occasionally brushing against mine in a way that seemed both accidental and deliberate. I found myself studying him when he wasn't looking. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the gestures he made when he was explaining something he was passionate about. It was hard to reconcile this Sunghoon with the boy who had tormented me in middle school. At some point, Yuqi caught my eye from across the patio and gave me a not-so-subtle thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at her, but I couldn't help the smile that subtly appears on my face.

As the night progressed, people started to drift away in twos and threes. Yuqi had gotten into an intense discussion about some TV show with a guy from her psych class, leaving Sunghoon and me alone on a small bench near the edge of the patio. The fairy lights cast a soft glow on his features, and I found myself staring longer than I should have. "You know," Sunghoon said, his words slightly slurred, "I never thought we'd be here like this." I raised an eyebrow. "What, drunk on your frat house patio?" He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "No, I mean... talking. Like friends."

His hand found mine on the bench between us, his fingers intertwining with mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, but I didn't pull away. "I was such an ass to you in middle school," he continued, his voice dropping low. "I... I didn't know how to deal with how I felt about you back then." I froze, my heart suddenly pounding. "What do you mean?" Sunghoon turned to face me, his eyes intense even in their alcohol-glazed state. "I had the biggest crush on you," he admitted. "But I was too stupid and insecure to know how to handle it. So I lashed out instead." I sat there, stunned.

The Sunghoon I knew in middle school, the one who had made my life miserable, had a crush on me? It didn't make sense, and yet... "That doesn't excuse what I did," he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "Nothing excuses that. But I want you to know how sorry I am. And how glad I am that you're giving me a chance to make it right."

I looked at our intertwined hands, then back up at Sunghoon's face. The vulnerability in his expression took my breath away. "I... I don't know what to say," I whispered. "You don't have to say anything," he murmured, leaning in slightly. "I just wanted you to know." We sat there for a moment, the air between us charged with possibility. Then, without thinking, I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our lips met softly, hesitantly at first. Then Sunghoon's free hand came up to cup my cheek, deepening the kiss.

It was sweet and a little clumsy, tasting of punch with a hint of alcohol. His lips were softer than I'd imagined - not that I'd been imagining it, of course. When we broke apart, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Sunghoon's eyes were wide, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn't quite name.

"I... wow," he breathed, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. Before I could respond, the patio door slid open and Yuqi's voice rang out. "Y/N? You out here?" Sunghoon and I sprang apart, but not before Yuqi caught sight of us. Her facial expression completely changed, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone teasing. I stood up quickly, nearly losing my balance. Sunghoon steadied me with a hand on my arm, the touch sending another jolt through me. "We were just... talking," I managed to say, knowing how unconvincing it sounded. Yuqi's grin widened. "Uh-huh. 'Talking.' Got it. Well, hate to break up this... conversation, but it's getting late. We should probably head out." I nodded, suddenly feeling very sober. "Right. Yeah. Let's go."

As we made our way back through the house, I could feel Sunghoon's eyes on me. At the front door, he caught my hand. "Text me when you get home safe?" he asked, his voice low. I nodded, words not being able to leave my mouth. He squeezed my hand once before letting go. - The walk back to the dorms was quiet, Yuqi mercifully holding back her questions until we were safely in my room. "Okay," she said, flopping onto my bed. "Spill. Everything. Now." I sank into my desk chair, my mind replaying the kiss over and over. "I... I don't even know where to start," I admitted.

Yuqi's expression softened. "Start at the beginning. And don't leave anything out."

~~~~~

Going over to Sunghoons frat house became a frequent thing over the winter break. About twice a week I would go with Yuqi and kick back with a few of his friends, the same ones that were there the first time.

During those times, we'd always end up hanging out in Sunghoons backyard, or playing in his pool. He definitely acted a lot different around his friends than I expected. More relaxed, open, less guarded. In turn he opened up to me a bit too.

“If I beat you in a round of pool, you have take a shot with me” Sunghoon said chuckling, nudging his elbow against my arm. “Come on, that’s fair!”

“I guess, but what do I get it I win?”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You know what, I can think of something…” He moved closer to me, the tip of his nose inches away from mine. A shiver ran down my spine as I tried to resist the urge to pull away. Instead, I remained still, watching nervously as his mouth slowly drew closer and closer. “I think you might like it” he said teasingly.

“I guess I should just let you win then” I sighed sarcastically, trying to ignore the butterflies built up in my stomach.

He scoffs “I promise, sweetheart, I don’t bite” he said, moving back just enough so he could meet my eyes. His voice was low and husky, sending a ripple of heat through my body.

“So, what kind of shot?” I asked lightly, trying to ignore the way my voice shook as I spoke.

“I think I have some Don Julio” he mused, running a hand along the back of his neck.

Sunghoon it first to break all of the pool balls apart, declaring him as solids. Drinking beer between each of our turns and chatting about family and work, Sunghoon was a lot better at pool than he originally let on, because soon enough he had only 2 solid balls left, while I still had 5 stripes.

I was expecting him to have already won at this point. When he set his cue on the edge, lining up to hit one of the solids into a hole, the 8 ball shoots across the board, into the hole closest to me.

“Aw shit, I guess you won” He said with a fake defeated look.

I laughed, setting my bottle aside. “Looks like it. Thanks for letting me have a couple extra rounds” I said, winking at him. I missed my cue stick by mere centimeters, but didn’t care. My eyes were locked on Sunghoon; his hair stuck up everywhere, his skin glistening with sweat after his game, his shirt clung tightly to his frame.

A loud bang echoed off the walls, making us both jump slightly. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped towards the window behind me, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Someone just slammed the garage door shut” he whispered. “Did they close up for the night?”

We had spent so much time playing pool, we didn’t realize that slowly, one by one, people started to go home. This meaning that Yuqi probably caught a ride home with someone and the only people left here are the 3 frat guys staying in the house over the break.

“It’s getting late, I should probably call an Uber” I said, rubbing my eyes for focus.

“Why leave so soon? Doing Uber this late at night could be dangerous, you never know what kind of people could be out there.”

“What other option do I have? Yuqi went home already” I replied, grabbing my phone.

“You can stay here, you can sleep on my bed and I will set up a bed on the floor” he offered.

“I don’t know if that is the best idea” I muttered, staring at my feet.

“Just sleep here. Don’t waste money on an Uber, and I promise I can take great care of you.” he urged me, placing his hand under my chin so that I would finally look at him. “Do you really believe that I would let you get into a strangers car right now?”

I hesitated before nodding. “Fine, but only because I trust you.”

We pack up all of our stuff from outside, including my purse and all of the extra alcohol. There are so many room in the frat house and I have never been upstairs, I have no idea which one is Sunghoons. As the two of us climb the stairs up to his room, we both silently agree not to mention the previous events from the other night.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why I kissed him, And I don’t know why he kissed me. Even though he did tell me a little about the reason behind our relationship, it wouldn’t matter, he was too far gone for it to change anything anyway.

The moment we step into his room, he tosses his backpack onto the floor and gestures to the large queen sized bed sitting in the corner of the room.

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in, I can’t sleep wearing jeans and a tank top” I said, gesturing to my jeans.

“Don’t worry about it, I can lend you something” he said, walking over to a laundry basket of clothes lying on the floor near the wardrobe. “I haven’t gotten the chance to put up my laundry, let me find something” he explains, rummaging through the basket.

He pulls out a large black t-shirt and some basketball shorts. “Here, try these on” and walked over, handing them to me, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Look away!” I playfully shouted while waving my hand to shoo him. “

“Oh my gosh, okay” he covers his eyes like a cartoon character.

Luckily I was wearing some spandex shorts and a sports bra underneath, so even if he did sneak a peek, which I’m sure he did, nothing too important would have been exposed. On him the clothes look normal size, but on me, the shirt fit like a dress and the shorts touched half way down my shins. “I guess I have no choice” I shrugged.

I crawl into his bed while he went to fetch an extra blanket for me out of his closet. At this point, he was already in his sleep attire. No shirt and some basketball shorts. It was hard to concentrate when he was standing there wearing nothing but shorts. I admit that maybe I was staring a bit longer than appropriate.

“You like what you see?” he says in a cocky tone, chuckling at my embarrassment.

“Shut up, you are so annoying” I scoff and roll my eyes, laying back down on the bed.

“Haha okay…” he smirks as he stands up from the closed with the blanket in his hand. “Hopefully this will keep you warm enough” he said, covering me with the big piece of fabric.

“Thank you, Sunghoon” I said, turning over to attempt to catch some sleep. He set up a little bed on the floor with a blanket and a pillow right next to the bed and layer down as well.

After sometime of just listening to the sound of the crickets outside, the quiet noises of the street, cars passing by, the occasional chirp of a bird. The atmosphere was rather peaceful, comfortable almost. I couldn't help the small smile forming on my face as I lay my head on my arm.

My brain kept drifting away from sleep, my thoughts constantly drifting back to Sunghoon. My heart rate was rising with every second that passed, I tried desperately to calm myself down, not wanting to give any indication that I was starting to get aroused. The more I listened to the sounds outside, the more I felt the overwhelming desire to be wrapped up in his arms. Just to feel him hold me.

I sigh deeply, rolling over onto my side and facing him. The soft glow of moonlight illuminating the entire room, casting light patterns on his sleeping features. If this was any other day, I would definitely stare at him until dawn, taking in every minute detail of him.

I scooted over to the edge of the bed, just close enough for me to nudge Sunghoon with my foot. “Hoon, are you awake” I whispered.

His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the brightness of the moonlight leaking through the blinds. “Yeah” he clears his throat. “Why?”

“Can you lay with me?” I whispered again.

He stared at me for a second, trying to understand what was going through my mind. Eventually, he crawled onto the bed, lying down next to me. His body was hot against mine, making goosebumps erupt throughout my skin, but the feeling was comforting nevertheless. We laid like that in silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Eventually, it became too awkward and I had to move closer into Sunghoon, cuddling up next to him. “I like this” I say quietly, resting my head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his faint scent. He chuckled slightly, positioning himself to where his fingers could comb though my hair.

I mumble, wrapping my arm around his torso. His fingers stopped their ministrations then, hesitating for a moment. I looked up at him from my position on his chest, curious as to what made him stop. I met his deep brown eyes that were focused solely on me. His gaze was soft, yet intimidating at the same time. Slowly, carefully, he lifted my head off his body and held it between his hands. Then he brought his lips to meet mine softly.

He pulled me in closer, gently running his fingertips along my jawline, making my heartbeat pick up in pace. His kisses were slow and sweet, the most tender kiss I've ever had. After several seconds of pure bliss, he pulled away slowly, watching me as if waiting for some sort of reaction. When my eyes fluttered open I met with his eyes, gazing deeply into each others’. A smile formed on my lips, making Sunghoon lean in to reconnect our lips again.

He placed his hands on the sides of my neck, holding me close to him, deepening the kiss, our tongues intertwining in a passionate dance. Our bodies pressed closely together, moving together rhythmically. His hands lifted up my oversized shorts and began roaming across my bare thighs, tracing up the hem of my shirt. We kept getting tangled in each other’s clothing as we continued kissing.

He reached my breasts, pushing up my sports bra to give them an affectionate squeeze, causing me to gasp in response. My hands moved down from his shoulders and ran up the backs of his arms to his neck, pulling on his short hairs slightly. Pulling on the strands of hair caused him to release a low growl and deepen the kiss, pulling his tongue into my mouth. Suddenly I felt his teeth graze my bottom lip, causing me to whimper slightly at the unexpected pain. When he released my lower lip, he sucked on it, sucking on it harder and harder with his sharp canine teeth. “Fuck…” I moan, gripping tightly onto the ends of his dark brown locks.

He took the opportunity to slide his hands under my shirt, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples lightly, causing my stomach muscles to tense up involuntarily. A slight smirk crept onto his lips as he noticed this, but then he proceeded to push the crop top further up on my shoulders before placing soft gentle kisses along my collar bone. He sprinkled kissed on my shoulders and chest and then moved down towards my waistline, placing soft soft kisses along my belly button. His hand started to work its way downwards, slowly caressing the insides of my thighs.

He latched one of my nipples into his mouth, gently suckling the tight swollen bud of flesh with his teeth and tongue. As his hand reached down and slid his middle finger along the underside of my left thigh, causing me to grind against his hand.

He trailed his hand back up to the bottom of my shirts and bunched it up in his hand “Can I take this off?” he leaned next to my ear and whispered. My breath hitched at how sensual he sounded.

“Please” I managed to speak out. He didn’t reply immediately, only gave me a reassuring smile before pulling it over my head, only leaving my bra. His lips found their way back up to mine, sending a surge of electricity through me. His hands worked their way to bottom of my bra, lifting it up and throwing it to the side as well. The cool air on my bare stomach and chest suddenly sent tingles all over my body, sending shivers down my spine and goosebumps all over my skin. He smiled at my reaction, continuing to caress my inner thigh.

“Is it okay if I take these off too?” he whispered, grazing the waistband of my shorts.

I let go of his arms and nodded my head yes, watching his expression change from relaxed to excited. I watched him pull those off and discard them as well, leaving only my thong on. “I hope this is okay” he smiled. He was still looking at me with those intense eyes, making it difficult for me to breathe properly.

He removed the last piece of clothing from me, both my spandex and the shorts he gave me, revealing my beautiful skin and perfectly plump curves underneath. He took a few seconds to appreciate every inch of my body before sliding his slim fingers between my legs. Instinctively my knees fell apart slightly, allowing him access to my core which caused his eyes to darken even more. As he gently traced circles around my bud, sending me into complete ecstasy, I moaned loudly, moaning in pleasure as my hips began grinding into his finger tips.

“God, you’re so pretty” he whispered, trailing kisses along my cheek. I bit my bottom lip to suppress the moans coming out of my mouth as he continued to stroke the wetness inside of my thighs. “So perfect.”

He spread my wetness all over his fingers and slid one finger inside of my desperate hole. At first, he started slowly, his thumb circling my clit while his middle finger slid in and out of my warm opening, slowly increasing the amount of pressure until I was gripping down onto his fingers with all of my strength. He increased the speed of his movements, adding another finger, pumping them hard into me. I closed my eyes and arched my back, trying my best to keep a good grip on his fingers.

“Shit, you’re so wet angel” he groans. He took his hand away to pull off his own shorts, with his boxers. His dick spring free, tip raging and dripping with precum. It was big, a lot bigger than I had expected.

I take all of his length into my fist as he continues contact with my folds. “Fuck, that feels good, baby” he says under his breath. I collect spit in my mouth and layer his tip and slide my hand up and down slowly.

I feel a familiar knot forming in my stomach as he keeps a consistent pace pumping his finger into my gushing pussy. “Agh yess” I moan on his cock, feeling the burning sensation building up. He leans down to place a tender kiss on the back of my shoulder, his warm breath fanning my sensitive skin, causing my back arch even higher. "Let go babygirl"he murmurs against my shoulder.

I let my hand rest against his erection, stroking him slowly, feeling the tip get longer by the moment. Soon enough, I can no longer contain myself as I let the orgasm rip out of me. His name came spilling out of my mouth, followed by a loud moan “Fuck Sunghoon, just like that.” I continue to hold on to him as the wave of pleasure takes over me, feeling my muscles start to seize up and my vision starting to blur.

As I'm regaining my composure, he pulls out of me, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. “You taste so good, princess” he praises, with sweat droplets forming in his forehead.My face turns red with embarrassment. I cover my face with my palms as I try to control my breathing. Sunghoon chuckles and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my blushing face and places them on his cheeks instead. “Don’t be embarrassed, babygirl. That was hot” he says. My blush gets stronger by the second.

“Let me get you cleaned up” he suggested, getting out of the bed to go to his bathroom where he kept his extra cloths. He came back with a small smile on his face. He runs the rag between my legs and said “I am really happy you decided to spend the night”

“Me too Sunghoon” my smile only visible by the moonlight. He went back into the bathroom to put the cloth into the dirty clothes hamper.

“Now come here…” He brings his lips to meet mine once more. He wraps his arms around my sore body, making my face bury into his chest. Our bare skin resting against eachother was so relaxing. His skin was soft, and he was perfectly toned to my liking. He runs his fingers through my hair and begins to massage my scalp, making my whole body tremble. “It’s really late, sweetheart, let’s get some rest” he whispers and kisses my forehead, then rests his chin on the top of my head. As I lay there in Sunghoons embrace, feeling the warmth radiating off him, my eyes gradually fall shut.

「Taglist」 : @sngleehee - @capri-cuntz - @namdeyuoi - @jaysupremacy - @tobiosbbyghorl - @hoonie-zzz - @jayhoonvroom - @mumeimei - @skaterhoonie - @nat123c - @branchrkive - @simpjay - @parksunghoonsgf - @jakeflvrz - @alienqbrain - @mitmit01 - @simhinata - @eternality - @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby - @jakesangel - @yjwsgf - @diorsyun - @en-ner-jay - @yeonzzzn - @hoonieesm - @hoonheepretty - @jaysupremacy - @cherry-park - @heeslomll - @alvojake - @taeghi - @dollyyun - @sumzysworld - @rikislady - @heeheeswifey - @chlorinecake - @flwrhoes - @hollyoongs - @simpjay - @sjylouvre - @starboimoon - @sjyunnsworld - @blurryriki - @yzzyhee - @sincerelyrki - @hoonven - @fatalwon

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planetaryupscaled · 4 months ago

Text

Just Roommates

Male OC x Ryujin

Tags: 30k, smut, cheating, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just get our own place,” muttered Ryujin, gazing scornfully at the stack of lease renewal papers scattered atop the kitchen counter.

She loathed the idea of her and her boyfriend, Tae, signing away an additional year of their lives in the apartment they shared with his buddy from college.

“You know I can’t stand being around that arrogant piece of shit anymore...”

“I know you don’t like him, but Junho is my best friend, and it’s just unrealistic for us to try and afford a place on our own right now, babe,” Tae replied. “Just one more year. By then we should have enough saved up to move out on our own, and you’ll have your degree. We just have to make this small sacrifice for our future, and besides, I know you’ll warm up to him if you give him a chance,” he added.

“I seriously doubt that,” Ryujin said through her frown.

Her boyfriend’s logic was sound though, and she couldn’t deny it was the sensible choice. She had moved in with the two men only a month prior, and she and Tae were barely earning enough to afford the shared living space they currently had. An additional year of hardship would end with her finally achieving her bachelor’s degree, at which point she could start her career and be stable enough to gain more independence.

Tae studied Ryujin as she contemplated his reasoning. He handed her a pen, and to his relief, she took it and began adding her signature to the many pages.

“Thanks, babe. I know it’s not ideal, but I really appreciate your understanding.”

“Yeah, yeah... But we should really establish some new rules around here. I’m getting sick and tired of Junho bringing random sluts’ home and disturbing our peace.” Ryujin took the opportunity to try and gain a little more control in the household.

Junho treated the place like he owned it, and Tae always turned a blind eye, allowing his friend to walk all over him. It was one of several reasons why Ryujin despised living with their roommate.

“That’s fair... I’ll talk to him,” Tae responded, now adding his signature to the document. He didn’t enjoy the thought of confronting Junho about his habits, and secretly wished his girlfriend was a little more easy-going.

Just then, the apartment door swung open, and Junho strolled in with his usual confident gait and cocky smile.

“Hey, roomies!”

His eyes fell to the freshly inked lease agreement. “Oooh, so we made up our minds, did we?” The tall, well-dressed man shuffled in between the couple and picked up the pen to seal the deal. Ryujin had to stop herself from ripping up the papers on the spot.

“Yup. One more year together,” Tae answered, grinning.

“Well this calls for a drink, doesn’t it?” Junho announced rhetorically, trading glances with each of them as he added his name to the many pages. Tae grabbed a bottle of vodka and some glasses, and poured the three of them a shot.

After filling in the last blank, and slamming the pen down, Junho raised his glass. “To another fun year!” The trio drank their shots, one more reluctantly than the others, and Junho continued speaking. “I mean, I could afford this place on my own, but it’s way more fun having you guys around! Plus we all save a ton of cash this way.”

Ryujin visibly grimaced. The man’s arrogance never failed to disgust her. “Before you get too carried away, I think we should discuss some things,” she said.

Both men turned to her, Tae looking nervous. “I think you should treat Tae and I with a little more respect. We live here too, and it’s not fair that you’re constantly coming home really late with different women, not giving us a heads up, and then being... unreasonably loud all night.”

Junho remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly letting her words sink in. Ryujin had the brief thought that perhaps she had finally gotten through to him, until he spoke.

“Jealous much?” He said sarcastically, laughing.

She crossed her arms, fuming, and he added, “C’mon... I’m just kidding. Ryujin. I get it. I’ll be better about that. I promise.”

Junho extended his hand towards her and she rolled her eyes, but shook his hand anyway. Before releasing her from his firm grip, he murmured under his breath, “I’d rather take your sexy ass to bed any night of the week...”

Ryujin recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. “You’re a fucking asshole!” She raised her eyebrows at Tae, suggesting he had better defend her in some way.

“I’m sure he’s just kidding around...” The boyfriend muttered.

“Of course I’m joking!” Junho bellowed. “I would never, ever, try to steal you from Tae here,” he said condescendingly, wrapping a muscled arm around his smaller friend and jostling him around.

“If you were single though-” Ryujin’s icy glare interrupted him. “I’m just saying you’re a catch, okay? Learn to take a compliment!”

“I’d prefer if you never complimented me again! I don’t want any of that from you,” she explained sternly. Junho’s crude comments highlighted another major reason she disliked him. He was always stealing suggestive looks at her, and making inappropriate remarks about her appearance. She felt as if he regarded her as nothing more than a sexual object. Whenever she brought it up to her boyfriend, he would minimize it, making excuses that his friend was just playing around, and that it was just his sense of humor.

“Alright, sheesh. Sorry...” Junho apologized with a hint of sarcasm.

The trio spent the rest of the night in relative peace, sipping drinks and discussing their days at work. Ryujin felt a mild sense of relief that she had at least confronted her unwanted roommate and finally spoken up for herself. Still, she knew that there was a long year ahead of her.

—

A few weeks later, Ryujin was finishing up an assignment on her laptop when a distressed looking Tae suddenly came home, far earlier than usual. “Everything okay, babe?” She asked worriedly, noticing he was carrying a large cardboard box.

“Fuck... I... Just got fired...” He replied, avoiding eye contact and dropping the container onto the kitchen counter.

“What!? Why?” Ryujin shoved her laptop to the side and rushed over to him.

Tae sighed heavily and began to explain, “I... It’s so fucking stupid... I backed up some sensitive documents on my personal drive so I could work on them here one night, and apparently that violates some confidentiality policy. I guess they scanned all the computers in the office looking for that sort of thing. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen... HR just called me into an office and told me they had no choice but to let me go.”

Ryujin didn’t know what to say or do. She had never seen her boyfriend so distraught. “Can’t you just give them the files back?” She asked, knowing it probably didn’t make sense.

“They demanded I turn over the drive to them, which I did, but they said it was policy to terminate anyone who broke that rule... Fuck!” Tae was pacing around the room now, pulling at his hair. “Now any accounting job I look for is going to ask why I got fired. This is not good...”

“We’ll think of something,” she said reassuringly, not really believing her own words.

That night, the worried couple broke the bad news to their roommate.

“Well, what are you gonna do? Y’all gonna break this new lease on me already?” Junho asked, looking less calm than his usual self. “I was counting on your guys’ portion so I could invest more.”

“I don’t see any other option. There’s no way we’ll be able to afford rent right now. Any extra money we had has gone towards Ryujin’s student loans...” Tae lamented.

Junho fell silent for a minute or so, his eyes darting back and forth, when an idea occurred to him. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your share of the rent until you get a new job.”

“Huh? No... No, you can’t do that,” Tae brushed off his friend’s proposition.

“I can. I’d rather just front you the money for a bit than deal with trying to find a new roommate. Way too much of a hassle,” Junho argued.

“Bro, I appreciate the offer, but that’s asking way too much of you...I don’t even know how long it will take me to land another job.”

“I’m sure it won’t take that long. Besides, where would you even go? Everywhere remotely close to Ryujin’s school is just as expensive if not more, and where would you get the cash for a new security deposit and all that shit? As far as I can tell your options are here or the streets.”

Junho’s words hit both of them hard. They hadn’t even had the time to consider how desperate their situation was. He was right. As of right then, they didn’t have enough money to live anywhere, let alone even be approved as tenants with their current situation. Ryujin chimed in first, “I could try to find a part time job or something...”

“No, your focus is still getting your degree. I don’t want this to fuck up our future. Plus, that wouldn’t be enough income anyway,” Tae replied. “I guess... since there’s no other option... We’ll have to take you up on your offer, Bro. I’ll pay you back when I can of course.”

“Don’t worry about the money. You guys can start paying me back right away, in fact,” Junho said, grinning smugly. “Hear me out... You won’t owe me a dime for the rent I cover while you’re out of work, but... Ryujin has to sleep in my bed three nights a week.”

The room fell dead silent, the couple doubting they had heard him correctly. Tae simply muttered, “What?”

Ryujin felt her blood boiling, and stammered, “You must be fucking joking...”

Junho chimed in again before they could process his ridiculous demand any further. “I’m not joking, and before you get any ideas, it’s not a sexual thing at all... I would be spending a great deal of cash to help you guys out, and I would need something big in return that makes me feel like it’s worth it-”

“Not sexual my ass! What in the hell are you talking about?” Ryujin interrupted, her face bright crimson. She shot a glance at her boyfriend, shocked he wasn’t more outraged.

“Well, for one, I just prefer having a woman’s company. It helps me sleep better, but it’s getting a little tiresome having to go on all these dates just to find a new bed buddy. They always want a relationship, and I’m not interested, so I have to go out and find someone else all over again. It’s expensive too, and since I’ll be a lot shorter on cash in the near future, having Ryujin around will make that whole situation a lot easier on me,” Junho explained calmly.

“...Sleeping buddy? You expect us to believe that!?” Ryujin challenged him. “There’s a lot more than sleeping going on in there, which we are forced to listen to all the time by the way.”

“Sure, we usually end up fucking, but my point is that I want a break from all that without having to sleep alone every night.” Junho continued the level-headed explanation of his terms, despite the mortified look on his roommates’ faces. “Plus, it bothers me that you hate me so much, and this will give us some time to get better acquainted. It’s honestly a great deal for you guys. Just think it over, and let me know.” With that, he turned for his bedroom and left the dumbfounded couple standing awkwardly in silence.

“So... we’re obviously not doing that,” Ryujin said finally.

“Yeah, no way. We’ll explore our options more tomorrow,” Tae agreed.

“Why didn’t you say more? You just stood there while he suggested the most degrading thing! Some fucking best friend you got there...”

“I know... I’m sorry... I mean it is a lot of money. He just wants us to take it seriously I guess-”

“Are you actually defending that creep? What part of how we’re handling this isn’t fucking serious? To suggest that we pay him back like... ugh... like I’m some fucking whore...”

“Let’s just go to bed. We’ll figure something else out.” Tae muttered, feeling overwhelmed.

“I can’t believe you. Both of you!” The young girlfriend yelled in anger and stormed off towards her bedroom, slamming the door.

—

The next week or so was nothing short of problematic for the young couple. They did not discuss the preposterous proposition their roommate had made, and focused all of their energy on finding a solution. Tae and Ryujin spent hours browsing apartments and rooms to rent, but no matter how they crunched the numbers, there was simply no way they could afford to sustain themselves. The cost of rent had increased drastically in the entire region, and every listing they browsed left them feeling more desperate.

Ryujin avoided Junho entirely. The fact that he had referred to her as an object for trade made her skin crawl, and yet his twisted deal clawed at the back of her mind. The notion that all of their financial troubles could be washed away in the blink of an eye was becoming harder to ignore as the situation worsened.

Each passing day, she considered the offer a little more seriously, rationalizing away the absurdity of it.

One night, the couple lay in bed after a failed attempt to have sex. The dire circumstances had drained Tae of his libido, and his desire to share some shred of pleasure with Ryujin proved impossible. On the verge of tears, he whimpered, “What are we gonna do...”

Ryujin felt a pit in her stomach. They couldn’t go on living like this. She felt a sudden surge of guilt, knowing that she could end their suffering at any time. After an exasperated sigh, she mumbled, “What if... we just try it out... for one night...”

“No... There has to be another way...” Tae replied.

“But there isn’t. We just need more time. I’m willing to give it a try... As long as he plays by my rules.”

“Are you sure, babe?”

“Ugh... no... but I’ll do it for us. It would probably just be a few times until you find another job after all, right?”

“Right. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.” Ryujin curled up and tried to sleep, but the knowledge of what they had just agreed to had tied her stomach into knots.

—

The following day, after hours of unsuccessful job and apartment hunting, the couple were a bundle of nerves as they waited for Junho to get home from work. When the moment finally came, he could tell immediately that there was an abnormal energy in the air.

“What’s going on guys? Don’t tell me you found a new place...”

Tae cleared his throat. “Ehm... No... We... were talking, and...”

He didn’t need to finish for Junho to figure it out. His friend’s awkward speech pattern and Ryujin’s scornful body language made it quite clear.

“You’re agreeing to the deal?” Junho asked, grinning.

“Yeah...” Tae muttered.

“But just a trial! If you can prove to me that you’ll be a gentleman through this, and not your usual...” Ryujin had to stop herself from hurling one of several cutting insults that were on the tip of her tongue, “...self... Then maybe this can work out.”

“I will be the perfect, platonic roommate. I promise. Let’s drink to it!” Junho hurried to pour shots, and the three of them did their best to enjoy the evening. After several rounds of drinks and some light-hearted discussion, the group was about ready to call it a night. No one had made any mention of the impending strangeness that would occur when they eventually decided to go to bed, but the time had come.

Ryujin was feeling fairly intoxicated as she kissed her boyfriend goodnight. It was the strangest feeling knowing they were going into separate rooms, but she had made up her mind and wasn’t going to turn back now. Surprisingly, Junho had actually been tolerable for the past couple of hours. She knew he couldn’t have actually changed that quickly, but to see him at least making an effort was a good start. After reluctantly parting ways with Tae, Ryujin followed her roommate to his doorway.

“You’re wearing that to bed?” Junho asked, examining her outfit.

She hadn’t even thought about it. She would normally just strip down to her underwear or throw on a baggy t-shirt with nothing underneath before getting under the covers. Neither of those options would be suitable now. “Damn. Um... be right back.” She trotted to her own room, changed into some gym shorts and a tank top, and gave Tae another kiss before returning to Junho across the apartment. He was in the same spot, and held the door open for her to pass through.

“I know how to open a door you know...” She muttered.

“Perfect gentleman, remember?” Junho responded, chuckling.

Ryujin entered the room and noticed right away that it smelled different than hers. Some sort of foreign, masculine scent hung in the air, but it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. She realized she had never actually been inside his space before. The next thing she noticed was that the dwelling was surprisingly clean and tidy. She had figured a single guy like him would have been living more or less like a slob, as Tae had before she moved in.

“Which side is mine?” She asked, motioning towards the bed.

“I sleep on the side with the door so I can protect you if anything goes wrong,” he jested.

Ryujin rolled her eyes and sat at the far edge of the bed, which was the third discovery to subvert her expectations. The mattress seemed exceedingly comfortable, and she pressed it a few times with the palm of her hands to examine it.

“Good stuff, right?” He asked, watching her with a cocky smile.

“Not gonna lie,” she said, laying on her back and wiggling into the cushiony material a bit, “This might be the comfiest bed I’ve ever felt.”

“Well I have expensive taste,” Junho bragged. “Glad you like it though,” he added.

“Whatever... This is so fucking weird. Is it morning yet?” Ryujin complained.

“Not even close,” he answered wickedly.

“This whole thing was just a ploy to get under my skin, wasn’t it?” She asked.

“Maybe a little... Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” He asked, still smiling.

“If you don’t understand that by now, I don’t see the point of getting into it,” she snapped.

“Fair enough,” Junho said simply. He began unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it off of his torso.

“Dude, can’t you change in the closet or something?” Ryujin chided.

“What? I’m not getting naked or anything,” he stated as he pulled his pants down.

Ryujin looked away. “What the fuck, Junho.”

“Relaaax. I always sleep in my boxers. No big deal.”

Ryujin glanced at him again. She hated to admit it even to herself, but the man was in incredible shape. She could see how he was able to pick up women so consistently. If he wasn’t such a prick he- she shook the thought away and complained again, “Can’t you at least put a shirt on?”

“My room, my rules. By the way, I do take tips,” he joked, laughing at himself.

“You’re the worst...” Ryujin turned to her side, away from him, and decided that the best way to move forward was just to fall asleep as soon as possible. The bed shuffled a bit as he crawled into it next to her, but that was the last disturbance of the night.

—

The sun cast its rays through the blinds and onto Ryujin’s eyes, which she made no attempt to open yet. In her semi-awake state, she felt her boyfriend pressed up against her backside, with his hand on her hip. She then felt the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock against her ass. Her pussy was wet and craving attention. She had been abnormally horny lately due to the stresses of life getting in the way of their sex life. Ryujin slowly rocked her ass back and forth along his hardness, hoping to stir him awake and finally share a long awaited steamy sex session.

She reached back to free his erection and guide it into her dripping slit. It would be so hot for him to wake up inside of me, she thought. Her slender hand dipped into his waistband and wrapped around his shaft. She froze. Whatever she was holding felt foreign, and it was far too big to be Tae’s dick. Reality came rushing back to her and her eyes snapped open. This wasn’t her room; this wasn’t her bed; and the huge cock in her hand belonged to Junho.

Ryujin gasped audibly and quickly pulled her hand away from him. She turned to confirm, to her horror, that it was in fact Junho that she was snuggled up against. He appeared to be fast asleep, which was a relief. She carefully rolled away from him, taking care not to wake him. She realized she had somehow ended up on his side of the bed, a further incriminating detail she would be horrified for him to discover. Her eyes ran down his broad chest and chiseled abs, landing on his massive dick, which was still rock hard and now sticking out of his boxers. Her gaze lingered on it for several seconds. It didn’t even seem real. She had the thought to tuck it back into his underwear for a brief moment, to cover up the rest of the evidence of her mistake. Realizing how unnecessary that would be, she left the bed and exited the room.

As the scorching water of the shower poured over her, Ryujin tried to get the vision of her roommate’s naked body out of her mind. Her pussy ached, begging to be touched, but she would not allow herself to succumb to the temptation. Especially not with the image of Junho’s big cock so fresh in her thoughts. She couldn’t believe she had actually touched the thing, and had never imagined they could get that large. “It was an accident. I didn’t do anything wrong...” She repeated the phrase to herself as she dried off.

Ryujin returned to her own bedroom to find Tae was still asleep. She dropped her towel and climbed on top of him. She took his soft dick in her hands and tried to coax it to life. She desperately needed to get the sexual urges out of her system.

“Good morning, babe. Rise and shine,” she said sweetly.

Tae stirred finally and greeted his naked girlfriend. “How was your night?” He asked right away. She continued to fondle him, but his cock remained as limp as ever.

“It was fine... Weird, but fine,” she answered simply.

“He didn’t do anything... questionable?” Tae inquired.

“No... We just went to sleep. Other than feeling strange to be in the wrong bed, it was a pretty uneventful night overall.” She had decided to keep her awkward mistake to herself. It was too embarrassing and wasn’t worth bringing up since it was just an accident on her part.

“Well that’s good, I guess. Um... Sorry babe. I’m just not feeling it right now,” He muttered, glancing at his softness in her hands.

“That’s okay...” Ryujin tried to hide her disappointment. She had hoped that his sex drive would have improved now that their financial burdens were taken care of, but it made sense to her that it could take some time.

Unfortunately for her, Tae’s libido did not improve much over the next week. He always found some excuse to explain why it wasn’t the right time. Hoping it would improve the situation, Ryujin did not pressure him to look for work. It became apparent that he had stopped searching, but she reasoned that a break was probably healthy after all of the stress they had gone through. A little vacation never hurt anyone, she reminded herself as she observed him settling on the couch and clutching a video game controller.

As for the nights spent in Junho’s room, Ryujin was adjusting to the new routine. Luckily, nothing unsavory had happened since that first confusing morning in his bed. He would verbally tease her and find little ways to press her buttons, but she always had an insult ready to fire back at him. An onlooker might have called it flirting, but she was convinced that she still hated his guts.

Overall, the arrangement was going smoother than she had expected. In fact, Ryujin was surprised to find that she actually slept wonderfully in his luxurious, comfortable bed, and always woke up quite refreshed. Every morning though, she would find that she had soaked through her underwear and would sneak out in shame before Junho awoke. Her sexual appetite had not been addressed and her body was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Ryujin chalked it up to the recent lull in her and Tae’s sex life, but there was clearly a pattern emerging where her most lust-crazed mornings were in Junho’s bed.

One morning in particular, she noticed with dread that she had somehow become draped over him during the night, her cheek against his warm chest and her bare thigh across his crotch. She felt the familiar wetness between her legs and an unfamiliar hardness beneath her. Ryujin glanced down to find that Junho’s sizable morning wood had escaped his boxers and was trapped under her inner thigh, just inches away from her barely-clothed pussy. She cursed herself for unconsciously ending up in a dicey position with him again. She didn’t move, just laying still to collect her thoughts for a moment. His arm was on her, running down the length of her torso with his fingers resting on her ass. It would be difficult to move at all without waking him.

Ryujin’s cunt was on fire, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from giving into the urge to grind against him. The thick mushroom tip of his cock seemed to stare at her, poking out from the soft skin of her upper leg. It looked so plump and juicy, at least twice the size of her boyfriend’s, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it might feel inside of her. If it were in any way possible to ensure he would remain asleep, Ryujin wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist guiding Junho’s hard dick into her dripping wet pussy. She had never felt so tempted in her life.

Finally, after several minutes of suppression, she managed to carefully squirm out of his embrace and free herself of the potential embarrassment of being discovered cuddling so intimately. To her relief, Junho didn’t stir in the slightest as she maneuvered her body off of his. He was seemingly out cold. Unburdened of her weight, his big cock stood tall, pointing straight at the ceiling.

Subconsciously, Ryujin’s hand had found its way down her shorts, and she lightly stroked her aching pussy while gawking at the exposed man. The pleasure hit her in an instant, her impossibly needy sex finally getting some stimulation. Before she fully realized what she was doing, the young girlfriend was firmly rubbing her clit next to her sleeping roommate.

Junho’s huge erection remained fully inflated throughout the duration of her sneaky self-indulgence, and she was fixated on it. She made a conscious effort not to lust over the annoying man beside her, but her mind wouldn’t let her ignore the physical specimen. That fat fucking cock was exactly what her body had been craving for weeks now, and the raw sight of it fueled her burgeoning climax.

Ryujin’s orgasm hit her hard. Her mouth hung open while she quivered on the bed for a solid minute. When the flood of endorphins pummeling her brain finally slowed, she felt a mix of satisfaction and disgust. It bothered her that she had given in to her body’s urges, especially because Junho had been the focal point. She hated him and his alluring cock for breaking her will. As silly and illogical as the thought was, she felt better about what she’d just done by shifting the blame. It was the damn boys that got her into this situation, and thus all of this was their fault. Ryujin took one last look at the nude man and quietly left the bedroom.

A smug grin spread across Junho’s face as he listened to her retreating footsteps. He had been awake the entire time, sneaking quick glances at Ryujin’s masturbation session. He stroked his dick to the thought of her sexy body writhing around on his sheets, knowing he now had the upper hand.

—

The following “Junho night”, as she began calling them, had Ryujin feeling more anxious than usual. She couldn’t control the movements her body made while sleeping, which made her nervous. She couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up first and finding her snuggled up against him. If he were to somehow discover how wet she was, he would never shut up about it. She tried not to worry about all of that as she got onto the far end of his bed and curled up. They traded a few sarcastic remarks while he stripped off his clothes, as usual, and the room fell silent.

“Uh... Ryujin?” Junho asked softly.

“What?” She asked, already rolling her eyes in anticipation of whatever he was about to say.

“Just thought I should mention. I’ve been like... extra horny recently. So, if I happen to have a big boner in the morning or something, I don’t want you to freak out,” he explained.

Ryujin scoffed at him. “Whatever man. Just keep it away from me.”

As Ryujin closed her eyes and tried to sleep, she began hearing a repetitive rubbing sound behind her. When it didn’t stop after several seconds, she turned to look at Junho’s side of the bed.

“Dude, what the hell is-”

The words caught in her throat as she saw that Junho had removed his underwear and was openly jerking off right in front of her.

“What the fuck!?” She shouted, bewildered by his actions.

“Shhhh!” He responded, looking at her sternly while his hand continued to pump up and down.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Ryujin threw the blanket off of her, readying herself to storm out of the room.

“I told you I was abnormally horny...”

“Well, take it to the bathroom or something!” She demanded, fuming.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to masturbate in here, but I’m not?” Junho sneered accusingly.

“I- What are you talking about?” Ryujin asked defensively, feeling her stomach drop.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you the other morning going to town on your little cunt. Right there where you are now,” he accused her.

“What!? That’s bullshit!” She argued, knowing it was hopeless.

“We both know it isn’t. But hey, it’s fine. You have my permission to pleasure yourself in here as much as you want, just don’t expect me to play by a different set of rules. Fair is fair.”

Ryujin moved to get off of the bed. She was humiliated and needed to get away from him. “Where are you going?” Junho asked, still stroking himself with a steady rhythm. When she didn’t answer him, he added, “If you leave, I’ll tell Tae everything.” She froze. “About how his not-so innocent girlfriend couldn’t keep her body to herself, and got so worked up over the sight of my big dick that she played with herself right in front of me.

“You wouldn’t...” Ryujin muttered, half-standing with one knee still on the sheets.

He nodded threateningly. “Don’t ruin this whole arrangement just because you got a little horny. I’m still keeping my hands to myself. Unless you want them on you...”

“I don’t,” she said, defeated. She lay back down in silence, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, but continued watching him.

“Glad you decided to stay. Gotta admit I’d miss my favorite sleeping buddy if you called this deal off,” Junho teased.

“When I call it off,” she corrected him. “This is just a short term thing.”

“Well, I guess we better enjoy it while it lasts, right?”

“You’re certainly enjoying yourself...” She grumbled.

“You could be too...” He suggested.

“You wish,” she said dismissively, trying to ignore the growing heat between her thighs.

Junho was surprised that she still hadn’t looked away. He was having a great deal of fun taunting her while he openly played with himself. “So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“How do I measure up?” He glanced at his cock, and then back at her.

“Pfft. You’re disgusting,” Ryujin muttered. She shuffled a bit as if to turn away from him, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking back at his performance.

“C’mon. You can’t deny I’m packing an impressive instrument here,” he teased.

“You seriously think that just cause you wag your big dick around I’m going to instantly drop my panties?”

“So you do admit that it’s big,” Junho retorted confidently.

Her face flushed crimson. “Ugh... You’re so annoying...” She flopped over onto her side, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the scene.

“Ryujin...”

“What now?”

“I’m gonna cum. So hard,” he grunted.

She reluctantly turned to Junho again, just in time to see his thick cock jump and spurt a lengthy rope of semen straight into the air. Another creamy strand of his fluid shot out, and then another, each of them reaching preposterous heights before landing on his toned belly. Ryujin watched in amazement as her roommate ejaculated with more force and volume than she would’ve considered possible. On the surface she looked appalled to witness it, but her pussy burned with desire at the erotic showing.

“Fuck...” She murmured, lost for words and involuntarily squeezing her thighs together...

Junho cleaned himself off and settled into the bed. “Night,” he said smugly. He turned off the lamp and didn’t say another word to her.

Ryujin’s mind was racing. She couldn’t believe what had just taken place. How did things escalate so quickly? She just witnessed the man she despised jerk himself off to completion, and it left her extremely aroused, despite how badly she wanted to be disgusted. Her pussy was soaking wet and practically screaming at her to touch it. She tossed and turned for several minutes before ultimately losing the internal battle. Very quietly, her hand dipped into her shorts and she pressed her fingers into her aching entrance. For the second time that week, a conflicted Ryujin shamefully pleasured herself to orgasm in Junho’s bed.

—

The new routine had been established, and over the next several nights while they were together, Junho would strip completely naked and masturbate beside her. Ryujin would always act appalled, and call him out for being a pig, but she’d watch him anyway with a disapproving look. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to secretly touch herself under the blanket while he stroked one out, but she always waited until he was asleep to make herself cum. She couldn’t risk him knowing the effect he was having on her. She always came so hard after teasing herself while watching him, and privately began looking forward to her “Junho nights”, knowing the pleasure that would ensue.

One evening, as he fished his half-erect cock from his underwear, she asked him, “Do you do this every single night?”

He replied, “Honestly, only when you’re here.”

“Gross.” She scoffed.

“You’re so fucking hot, Ryujin. Just knowing you’re in my bed drives me crazy. It’s the only thing I can do to control myself,” he explained earnestly.

“Well, you’re disgusting, and you can’t have me,” she muttered, suppressing a grin. The rare compliment threw her off, and she couldn’t deny that it was flattering to know how intensely he lusted after her. It was a bit of a power trip realizing that she was off limits, yet so desirable that he had to beat off every time she was around.

Junho snickered. He knew it was just a matter of time before her will would shatter. “That’s fine. I’ll settle for my thoughts for now.”

“I can only imagine the perverted shit you conjure up in that thick skull of yours,” Ryujin said bitingly.

“Oh, I think you’d love it.”

“Try me.” Ryujin regretted the encouragement the second it left her lips. Her hidden lust had gotten the better of her.

Junho flashed a bright smile. “Well, speaking of trying you... I could, for instance, crawl between your legs right now and eat your little pussy until you were screaming for me to fuck you.”

His sudden directness spurred a small shockwave in her gut and her nipples hardened. “Pfft! You wouldn’t dare. You know this arrangement is over the minute you lay a finger on me, you ass.”

“It’s just a fantasy. Relax,” he replied calmly, still slowly stroking himself. “If that actually were to happen though... I’m positive you wouldn’t stop me.” Junho’s arrogance was making her blood boil, but her body was reacting to his dirty imagery. “Believe me though. I have a skilled tongue, and you’d be addicted to it in no time.”

“Fuck off. You are so damn full of yourself it’s sickening,” Ryujin remarked with her most disapproving expression. She could feel her pussy moistening by the second.

He noted that she hadn’t told him to stop yet. “Of course, that would just be the appetizer. Just a little warm up for the main event. Next, I would slowly kiss my way up your body until you felt this fat cock prod your slick entrance. That’s when the begging would really start...”

Ryujin’s cunt was burning now, and it took every ounce of self-control to stop herself from attending to it. She couldn’t help a swift glance at his engorged dick, picturing its considerable size stretching her open. She became aware that she was biting her lower lip, and lashed out in embarrassment. “Begging you to leave me the fuck alone, you creep!”

“You have no clue what you’re missing. I know exactly how to please a sexy woman like you. I’d have you creaming all over my big cock the entire night. One experience with a real man like me would blow your innocent little mind. Then I’d blow my thick load deep inside of you and seal the deal...” As he finished his sentence, Junho’s cock throbbed and began launching the heaviest strands of sticky semen she had seen yet as he let out a deep, breathy moan.

Ryujin’s hand shot down to her panties, but she stopped herself, desperately trying to maintain control. She was soaking wet, and her thighs squirmed ever so slightly. If not for the blanket, he would easily be able to see how turned on she was. The sex-starved girlfriend felt her pussy drooling as she imagined all of that milky cum coating her insides. No one had ever cum inside of her before, and she wondered why the idea of it was suddenly so insanely hot. She was at a loss for words, and mindlessly said, “You’re gross.”

The look of deep conflict on Ryujin’s face was clearly apparent to Junho, who was studying her reaction carefully as his climax ran its course. “Go ahead. Ryujin. I won’t tell...”

“Shut up.” She hated him for putting her in this position, but her body wanted to give in so badly.

“Touch yourself. I know you need it,” he persisted.

“I do not.” Ryujin lied. Even as she said it, her hand was sliding back down her torso beneath the blanket. Her body was winning the battle.

Unbeknownst to her, Junho could see the subtle movements and grinned victoriously. “Don’t deny yourself. It’s natural,” he encouraged.

“Shut up.” She muttered again. Her mind was racing as her fingers dipped into her underwear and finally made contact with her aching pussy. A spark of ecstasy rippled through her instantly, her brain pleading her to continue.

Junho watched as her hardened expression shifted slightly, revealing that her determination had finally broken. “That’s it... God you look hot.”

Ryujin wanted her arrogant roommate to say more dirty things to her. She despised that this was happening, but she was too far in now as she furiously rubbed her drenched cunt. “You don’t know anything...”

“Don’t be ashamed. We’re friends here.”

“No, we’re not. Ugh. I fucking hate you...” She said through clenched teeth. The pleasure was ramping up significantly, and her eyes drifted down to Junho’s shiny member. It had deflated slightly, but was still quite engorged as it lay across his abs, surrounded with his splattered semen. “...and your stupid big cock,” she added, practically whimpering.

“I’m going to fuck you with this stupid big cock one day,” Junho stated boldly.

“Nnooghh... No you aren’t...” Ryujin couldn’t believe she was getting off to his completely inappropriate threats. She could feel a powerful orgasm brewing.

“Yes I will. You will be my personal cum slut, and you will join me in bed every single night so I can give your needy little pussy all the attention it’s been craving.”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Ryujin yelped far louder than she intended as her climax overwhelmed her. All control over her body slipped right through her fingers as her thighs clamped tightly together and she trembled on the sheets. Soft moans escaped her lips as visions of Junho sexually dominating her flashed through her mind. The intensity of her orgasm completely blindsided her, and it seemed to last minutes. As the pleasure finally waned, she opened her eyes to see her roommate’s shit eating grin.

“Well that was ridiculously sexy. Now I need to take care of this again,” he said, looking down at his revitalized erection. “Wanna help me out?”

“This never happened!” Ryujin flipped onto her side, facing away from him, and pulled the blanket tightly into her. She shut her eyes and tried to block out the shame that was taking hold of her. She had just openly pleasured herself right next to the man she supposedly loathed more than anyone else. Worse still, she had done it while he described how he was going to fuck her and make her his slut, all behind her boyfriend’s back. The situation had gotten so completely out of control that it didn’t even feel real. Maybe it was a dream, she thought. She let the hopeful idea live in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic sounds of Junho beating his meat again behind her.

The next couple of days proved to be quite awkward for Ryujin, and she avoided her roommate as much as possible. Everytime she caught a glimpse of him, she was reminded of what had transpired. The dirty, degrading things he had said to her swirled around in her head intrusively. No matter what she did to take her mind off of things, she felt insatiably horny. Her boyfriend Tae was still the opposite, and seemingly couldn’t be bothered with anything sexual.

On the next “Junho night” she was surprised when the usually boisterous man made no acknowledgment of their last session together. He still jerked off as usual, but mostly kept to himself and went to sleep without incident. She couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed, but also couldn’t allow herself to acknowledge it openly.

She half expected he would try to push the boundary further given the things he had mentioned. The sex-starved primitive part of her brain was so ready for him to assert himself, and her pussy drooled at the thought that she was ripe for the taking if he decided to have her. She was within arm’s reach, and her inability to control her urges had already been exposed by him. There was absolutely no way she was going to stoop so low as to encourage a repeat of the last time they were in bed together though. It was better this way, she told herself, sneaking a peak at his sexual display. It was weird enough how normalized his masturbation in her proximity had become, let alone her openly joining him again.

Though she convinced herself it wasn’t for him, Ryujin started wearing more revealing outfits around Junho. She’d pretend not to notice, but she enjoyed the ego boost whenever she caught him eye-balling her. She even began “accidentally” leaving his blanket off of her torso while he jerked off, so he could have a clear view of her considerable cleavage and flat tummy. She opted to remove her bra after getting into bed, rationalizing that it was just for her comfort. It was thrilling to tease him; to know that he was probably undressing her with his eyes while he pleasured himself.

She kept up the act for the most part, scoffing at him disapprovingly when he whipped out his big cock. She’d pretend to scroll on her phone while watching him in her peripheral vision and lightly teasing her pussy under the safety of the blanket. Slowly but surely, she was becoming more comfortable with the ritual and the notion that it was just a bit of harmless fun. She deserved to blow off steam given how deprived she had been lately. As long as they didn’t push it any further, she rationalized that she wasn’t technically cheating.

Things felt different in the apartment. Tae, though normally oblivious, started to pick up on the strange vibes. His girlfriend seemed to be wearing less clothing, and he thought he saw Junho checking her out a few times. The two of them seemed to be getting along a lot better, which was a pleasant change, but also slightly concerning. He noticed some kind of electricity between his roommates, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He would ask from time to time how the sleeping agreement was going, and she would always shrug it off as “No big deal”.

Tae’s anxiety was worsened by the fact that Ryujin seemed generally upset with him for not trying harder to find employment, and had basically stopped trying to initiate sex after a string of several disappointing trials. They would engage in a daily argument about him being lazy and complacent to be out of work. The disheveled boyfriend inspected himself in the mirror with a frown. It had now been several weeks since he was fired, and he had really let himself go. He’d never been as fit as his more athletic buddy, but used to at least maintain some sort of standard. He knew he had to start taking control of his life again soon, but didn’t know if he had the strength to do it, especially with the embarrassment surrounding the truth of his job loss. A truth he had not disclosed to his girlfriend, and the reason why his friend was enjoying her overnight company on a regular basis.

To prove a point, Ryujin managed to land a part-time job at a retail store. It wasn’t ideal, but would at least give her a bit of spending money before her classes started back up. The other plus was that she wasn’t stuck in the apartment all day watching her boyfriend do nothing. The responsible thing to do would have been to put the money away and save up for a new place, freeing herself from the absurd sleeping arrangement. Instead, she spent her measly income on new clothes. Her employee discount aided in her rationalizing these purchases. What started out as picking out sensible outfits for her new job quickly devolved into acquiring skimpy workout attire and sexy nightwear. She’d never had the money to spend frivolously and was enjoying the opportunity to treat herself a little.

“Don’t look over here.” Ryujin’s request escaped her lips despite an internal battle to keep the transparent, attention-seeking comment to herself. She carefully removed her day clothes to reveal a particularly risque nightie she had picked up that afternoon. It left little to the imagination, and her toned, but curvaceous figure was on full display.

“Damn, you’re asking for it you know...” Junho said, completely disregarding her plea for privacy as he fished for his manhood.

“I said DON’T look!” She reprimanded him, jumping under the covers for protection. “It’s for Tae. I just wanted to try it out and make sure it’s actually comfy. Don’t get any ideas!” Ryujin’s focus dropped to his crotch, noting that her display had made the man instantly hard.

Junho gently ran his fingers up and down the impressive length of his shaft while studying the petite woman. The blanket had already conveniently fallen from her chest, and his eyes followed the distinct curves of her succulent tits. The thin, almost transparent fabric seemed to hug them perfectly, and he yearned to see more. He decided though, that patience was key. His conservative approach had been working wonderfully, and he needed to play his current hand a little bit longer.

“Ugh. Now you’re probably thinking really inappropriate things about me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn this...” Ryujin knew how obvious the act was, but her lust clouded her judgment.

“It’s pretty hot. I’m sure Tae will enjoy it,” he replied simply, still jerking off. He watched her cute nose flare ever so slightly at his unwillingness to take the bait. She can still enjoy the show, but it’s not FOR her until she submits more. He grinned arrogantly, eventually finishing himself off and unceremoniously cleaning up.

“You’re so obnoxious,” Ryujin muttered, turning away from him. The young girlfriend fell asleep more frustrated and unsatisfied than ever.

—

The following night, Junho returned home with an assortment of alcohol and insisted the group play drinking games together. They started with a simple card game, and within an hour each of them was feeling the effects of the potent liquid. The trio erupted in surprise and laughter as Tae flipped the final card, indicating that he would have to drink from the large glass they had been contributing to throughout the game. The intoxicated boyfriend winced as he tipped the foul mixture into his mouth, his roommates cheering him on. He managed to chug the entirety of it, gaining an applause from the group as he triumphantly slammed the glass to the table. His clumsy act caused Ryujin’s drink to fall over, splashing her clothes with the sugary substance.

She shrieked and jumped up from her chair while Tae stumbled to the kitchen for a towel. Without thinking it through, she hurriedly pulled off her top and shorts right there in the living room. Junho’s eyebrows shot up as he drank in the sight of his sexy roommate, suddenly in nothing but an exquisite set of lacy, black underwear. She patted the material all over, checking that it was dry.

“Woah-What’re you doing!?” Tae stammered as he realized his girlfriend had become half naked in front of their roommate.

“What? I- I didn’t want my new underwear to get stained!” The woman was clearly intoxicated and uninhibited. She shot Junho a glance, momentarily grasping the fact that she was exposed, and the hunger in his expression sent a tingling sensation from her nipples to her pussy.

“Well okay, but - shouldn’t you cover up now?” He suggested nervously.

“I dunno... It feels kind of nice! Don’t I look good?” She asked her boyfriend playfully. She was experiencing quite a thrill from showing off her body.

“Yeah, you look great, but...” Tae looked over at Junho, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I don’t mind.” The roommate stated, raising his hands in a half shrug. “If she feels comfortable, then go for it, right?”

“I guess so...” Tae slinked back into his chair, feeling defeated, and a little too drunk to form a cohesive argument.

“Thanks, babe!” Ryujin giggled and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. “So, what’s next?” She asked the group proudly, standing tall with her hands on her hips.

“Drink and drive?” Junho suggested. The group agreed, and filled up their drinks before taking a spot on the shared couch, the barely-clothed woman sitting between the two men, much to Tae’s dismay. The three buzzed roommates enjoyed a few rounds of competitive video game racing, while downing more drinks throughout.

The furniture was plenty large enough to accommodate all of them, yet Ryujin found herself sandwiched tightly between the much larger men. She didn’t complain though, secretly enjoying the warmth of Junho’s bare thigh against hers. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she privately compared the two males on either side of her. One was tanned and muscled, the other pale and flabby. As more drinks filled her belly, she loosed up further, shoving her body into her roommate’s flirtatiously whenever the events of the game called for it. He even squeezed her smooth thighs a few times, which only increased her arousal.

Junho was rock hard for the entirety of the game, stealing several lengthy glances down Ryujin’s bra while the others were too immersed to notice. He had to have her, and his cock ached for release as he enjoyed the sensation of her luscious legs against his.

Eventually, the trio decided it was time to hit the sack. Ryujin, stumbling slightly, followed her tall roommate to his room, leaning on him for stability.

“Babe...” Tae whined, looking at her accusingly. “It’s an us night. You’re going the wrong way...” He had already witnessed the pair flirting pretty consistently throughout the evening, and seeing his girl’s hand wrapped around his friend’s large bicep filled him with jealousy.

“Oh! Are you sure?” She asked, feeling embarrassed.

“Yeah... You slept in there last night, remember?” He was right, and she shamefully let go of the muscled arm.

“My bad... I guess I’m a little more tipsy than I thought...” She couldn’t show it, but the young girlfriend was disappointed. She was intensely horny, and had been looking forward to her routine of playing with her pussy while pretending to be disinterested in Junho’s big cock. She knew Tae wouldn’t be up for anything sexual.

“Hang on. How about one more race?” Junho asked mischievously, staring his friend down. He’d hoped the boyfriend had become too drunk to notice the mistake, and now had to think on his feet. Tae simply shook his head, knowing where this was going. The confident man added, “If I win, I get a bonus Ryujin night tonight; but If I lose, we change the arrangement to only once per week instead of three, permanently.” His offer hung in the air for several seconds while the room contemplated.

“What’s the point even? It’s not like you get to - to...” Tae couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, but the implication was understood. He tried to shake away the painful thought of the man taking advantage of his girlfriend.

“I know dude. It’s not about that,” Junho said reassuringly.

“It’s just one last silly bet to end the night on. I want to feel like I won a prize, you know?”

“I dunno...” Tae muttered sheepishly, looking towards Ryujin to gauge her reaction. She just stood there silently, waiting to see how it would play out. His mind was a swirling mix of conflicting thoughts. He should just outright refuse, but if he won, then he would have a lot more of her to himself. He did feel he was the better gamer, and the alcohol gave him just enough confidence to weakly agree. “Fine... let’s do it.”

Ryujin’s heart lept in her chest as the events unfolded in front of her. She felt objectified; a bargaining chip to be turned over to the victor. It reminded her of the origin of the agreement that now felt like it happened so long ago. Things were different now, and instead of feeling disgusted, she found the whole ordeal to be an incredible turn on. She stood there in her skimpy underwear, waiting with great anticipation for the two males to decide who got to claim her for the night. She secretly hoped it would be her big dicked roommate.

The race was on, both men focusing intently on the screen and clutching their controllers tightly. It was anyone’s game, as they both traded the first place position several times while the finish line drew nearer.

“You got this babe!” Ryujin cheered for her boyfriend, her barely contained breasts jiggling in their lacy enclosure as she bounced with excitement. Tae pulled ahead, looking like he was set to win, when one of his girlfriend’s tits popped out, greeting the room in its full fleshy glory. “Oops!” She laughed.

Her exposed chest caught Tae’s eye, and he shot her a look of disgust. “Ryujin!? What the fuck?” The momentary distraction was enough for him to take the final turn a little too widely, and Junho took the lead. “No, no, no!” He smashed his buttons in a futile attempt to make up the distance, but the race was lost.

“Woo!” Ryujin exclaimed, accidentally letting her joy at the result slip off of her tongue. She met eyes with her fuming boyfriend and tucked her breast back into the bra. “Awww, babe! I’m sorry!”

“What the fuck was that!?” Tae screamed at her, slamming his controller onto the table.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear, it just got loose while I was cheering you on!”

“Well that’s not fair! Another race!” He demanded, his face beet red.

“Sorry bro, a deal’s a deal. Accidents happen,” Junho said calmly standing from his seat.

“But...” Tae looked at his almost nude girlfriend in disbelief, her small frame eclipsed by his large roommate who approached her. She simply shrugged.

“You did really well! Sorry I accidentally distracted you...” While she was telling the truth about the wardrobe malfunction, she put on an act to mirror his disappointment, pouting as she walked over and gave him a peck on the lips. “See you tomorrow, babe. Goodnight.” Tae slumped into the couch, his head spinning as he watched the beauty disappear behind Junho’s door.

Ryujin wasn’t sure what to expect as she sat on her side of the bed, resting her back against the cool, cushioned headboard. The first thing she noticed was that her sleeping mate had gotten into bed with his boxers still on, and was idly tapping at his phone. She lay there for several minutes wondering when he would inevitably start the stroking session, but he didn’t. She hated herself for letting it bother her, yet couldn’t help but ask about it.

“Wow, no self-service tonight, huh?”

Junho replied, “Sorry to disappoint. I guess your body all covered up and hidden isn’t doing it for me anymore.” He was determined to make her work for it, and focused his thoughts on anything other than the sexy body next to him to maintain self control.

“What is your imagination broken or something?” She teased, glancing at the flaccid bulge in his underwear. She felt an urge to do something to awaken it. It was almost as if his lack of an erection was a personal insult to her. After no response from him, she made a transparent excuse.

“Eh... Well it’s a pretty hot night anyway...” She pulled the rest of the blanket off of her, revealing her long, smooth legs and adjusting her bra to push up her swelling chest as much as possible.

They both feigned an interest in their phones, while secretly stealing glances at each other. Ryujin noticed his crotch had swelled a bit, and commented on his half-boner. “Hm. I guess something is doing it for you now...” She said slyly.

“Maybe a little,” he responded casually. The man knew she was bothered by his lack of interest, and it was a joy to watch her squirm.

Ryujin’s annoyance hit a tipping point, and she rose to her knees, facing him. “Oh, so all of a sudden I’m just not hot enough huh?” As soon as the words left her lips she felt the sting of embarrassment.

Junho looked at her smugly. “You’re pretty hot, it’s just I’ve seen it all before, ya know?”

Ryujin subconsciously tugged her bra down a little further. “I’m already showing so much! Don’t you like this little number? I can’t believe it’s all I’ve been wearing all night.”

“Mhmm...”

“I think you’re just trying to get me naked...” Ryujin added.

Junho said nothing, but stared at her chest intently. It was now a game of chicken, and Ryujin was fully invested in the challenge of making him hard by the mere sight of her.

She slowly pulled her lacy bra further and further down her chest, and as more of her soft, perky tits were revealed, his cock grew in size. Finally, as the material had stretched as far as it could go, she reached in and scooped her breasts out of their prison, and they stood proudly out in the open.

Quite pleased with herself, she looked at his fully enlarged bulge, which was straining against the fabric of his boxers. “I guess you couldn’t help yourself,” she said victoriously. “Aren’t you gonna play with it?”

“I’d really prefer if you did,” Junho replied. Her tits looked better than he could’ve imagined, but he had to hold back just a little longer if he was going to ensure access.

“Well... That’s against the rules,” she argued.

“So was rubbing your pussy,” he said.

“No, that was different...” She was losing steam.

“Uh huh... Why are you so horny for my cock, Ryujin?”

“I’m not...” She could hardly believe her own actions. Here she was, in nothing but a thong, trying to tease her roommate into jerking off in front of her. It was beyond ridiculous, but in the heat of the moment, she didn’t have the strength to stop herself.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off of it. And your nipples are hard,” he argued. Fighting the compulsion to attack her alluring chest mouth-first.

Ryujin blushed and deflected, “Doesn’t it hurt? Constrained all tightly like that?”

“As a matter of fact, it is very uncomfortable. Now help me out.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She teased.

“So would you,” Junho said as he reached out and gently took her hand in his. He slowly guided her to his crotch and rested her on his bulge. He lightly stroked himself using her fingers, and looked at her to gauge her reaction. She said nothing, and remained fixated on what he was doing. He then moved her fingers to his waistband and left them there.

“All you have to do is pull this down and it will be freed.”

“...I... Can’t-”

“Do it...”

Despite her better judgment, Ryujin tugged at his boxers and his thick, swollen cock sprang out, waving back and forth a few times before settling into its straight, rigid position. Junho took her hand again and wrapped her fingers around the shaft. It was radiating heat, and looked even bigger up close in her small hand. She unknowingly held her breath as she eased her fingers up and down the impressive length. It was so much larger than Tae’s, and she felt mesmerized by it. It was as if she was carefully examining some otherworldly object.

“Mmm... You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this...” Junho cooed, snapping her out of her daze and fully removing his underwear.

“Well don’t get used to it. This is a one time thing,” she muttered in an attempt to maintain some semblance of self control.

Ryujin had a feeling she would never live up to those words as she squeezed his hardness. She made herself more comfortable, laying on her side and propping herself up on her free elbow. Her face was just inches from his bare chest as she worked her hand along his meaty shaft.

“I’m just curious, that’s all...” She murmured distractedly, admiring the weight of him in her grip. She traced the tip of the head down to the base with her finger tips, and cupped her balls in her palm. They seemed so heavy and full, which made perfect sense to her given the sheer volume of semen he would always unleash.

Junho’s idle hands also began wandering, and he softly ran his fingers through her hair. While whispering words of encouragement to her, he slowly stroked her down the length of her back, grinning upon noticing goosebumps forming on her shoulders. He traced lines up and down her spine, barely making contact and causing her to shiver with delight. He could hardly believe it was actually happening. His best friend’s girl, whom he’d wanted to fuck since the moment he met her, was willingly caressing his cock. The fact that she had always been so standoffish and rude to him made the moment all the sweeter.

Ryujin was so consumed with studying his manhood that she barely noticed when Junho started touching her. It wasn’t until he made contact with her plump ass cheek that she paused.

“Hey... stop that,” she said weakly.

“Oh, be quiet,” he responded light-heartedly, reciprocating her unconvincing protest.

She began pumping his cock, allowing him to squeeze her ass, which was all the encouragement he needed to take it further. He rested his palm on her shoulder and pushed her down into the bed so that she was flat on her back beside him. He then shifted down to her level and placed his muscular arm on her abdomen, holding her in place as well as giving him access to her lower half.

“What are you doing!?” Ryujin cried out with a mix of nervousness and excitement. She grabbed his thick forearm with both hands to try and stop the inevitable, but he was already testing the wetness of her thong.

“Junho, stop,” Ryujin said urgently, trying to sound like she meant it.

“Make me,” he replied as he slid his fingers under the damp fabric and touched her dripping pussy for the first time.

Ryujin squirmed as he caressed her most sensitive area. It felt like her last line of defense was being bombarded; the private part of her, reserved for her boyfriend, under assault. The pleasure hit her immediately though, and after hopelessly struggling under his strength for a short while, she began to give in to it.

“Nnghh... Please!” She wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for anymore, whether it be to stop or continue.

“We both know you need this,” he said with authority as he dipped two fingers into her and started hooking them back and forth. His elbow dug into her chest as she struggled against him, his digits fully penetrating her. With his other hand, he grabbed her soft tit and squeezed. He switched between mauling the flesh of her breasts and pinching her stiff nipples, all while firmly stimulating her g spot.

Ryujin moaned openly as Junho continued to grope and finger her. His strong hands were doing things to her that she couldn’t possibly achieve on her own. She was completely overwhelmed. The loud squishing sound from her pussy almost seemed to sing of her body’s consent as he dug into it. She could scream for her boyfriend, but her brain wouldn’t allow it. The pleasure was too great, and her intense craving for it had gone on too long. There was nothing she could do but lay there and take it.

“Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a cunt this wet. You must be loving this,” Junho muttered.

He was right. She could feel her juices gushing like never before, as if her body instinctively knew how to prepare for an encounter with such a dominant, masculine partner. A movement in the corner of her eye reminded her of his monstrous cock, and without thinking she reached out to take it. She pumped it hard in her closed fist, mirroring the intensity he was unleashing on her sex. She was suddenly overcome with the desire to make him cum; to witness his incredible manhood explode by her own hand.

“Ugh, just like that baby,” Junho cooed, elated that she had warmed up enough to reciprocate. He was determined to orgasm along with her, and ride the high together. The sight of her naked form sprawled out in front of him was enough to do the trick. She was absolutely beautiful. Delicate and elegant, yet oozing raw sexuality, especially in her current state. She was built for this, and he already couldn’t wait to have more of her.

The duo were wrapped up in a dense cloud of sexual intensity, jaws clenched and eyebrows furrowed while they vigorously worked to get each other off. So many tense nights had led up to this moment, and the barriers that had been keeping them tame were crashing down all around them. Junho leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, his rough jaw making contact with her delicate chin.

Ryujin opened her mouth immediately and accepted his passion, their tongues clashing near the peak of their lust. It felt even more wrong somehow to accept the intimate kiss, but it felt so incredibly good and fueled her desire for his masculine dominance to even greater heights. She allowed him to taste her completely, moaning into the strong kiss with unbridled pleasure.

“Oh my god... ngh fuck! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna - NGH - CUM!” Ryujin felt a powerful force rising in her, like an overinflated balloon that was about to burst. And then it did. Her jaw fell wide open, and her thighs squeezed inwards, trapping Junho’s hand like a vice. Sharp jolts of ecstasy pulsed from her depths, igniting every nerve in her body. Time seemed to stop as she was thrashed again and again. The thick fingers inside of her did not skip a beat, and each purposeful movement seemed to directly stroke the pleasure center of her brain.

Ryujin felt a wetness grace the back of her hand, and opened her eyes just in time to see Junho’s throbbing member erupting. Thick, sticky seed blasted into the air and coated every inch of her closed fist. As her climax shook her body, her unsteady grip on him caused quite the mess. His vigorous load was flung in every direction, splattering both of them and the sheets. As the potent pleasure boiling within them cooled to a simmer, they couldn’t help but share a tension-cutting laugh. There was cum everywhere.

“Holy fuck...” Junho murmured. “That was so damn hot.”

Ryujin felt like she was floating on a cloud, and closed her eyes to savor the moment. “Yeah...” She uttered the simple agreement with a long drawn out breath. She hadn’t felt such immense satisfaction in a long time, and allowed herself a peaceful moment to soak it in as the many drops of semen trickled down her skin. Her brand new underwear had gotten completely soiled, but she couldn’t care less in that blissful moment.

The pair managed to eventually clean themselves up and remove the soiled sheets. As Ryujin settled into her spot on the bed, the positive feelings that had dominated her consciousness were giving way to feelings of guilt and shame. She and Junho had officially gone too far, and she wrestled with the thought in silence before finally falling asleep.

Ryujin kept herself busy the next day, even opting to pick up an extra shift at work. The knowledge that she had cheated on her boyfriend weighed heavily on her mind, but she also felt a flash of excitement any time she recalled the event. The steamy encounter with her roommate made her already intense appetite even harder to ignore, and she had to fight the urge to duck into a dressing room to get herself off.

She even managed to mount Tae that night, desperate for cock, and perhaps eager to soothe her conscience by enjoying some intimate time that wasn’t “off limits”. The troubled young man was more eager than he had been in a while, fueled by his jealousy from the previous night. After riding him for a short time, Ryujin gasped as he took control and flipped her onto her back, fucking her with the anger he had felt after losing her to Junho. While he did manage to build a nice rhythm, he couldn’t last more than a minute, and she was left unsatisfied.

“That felt so good,” he said, breathing heavily and studying her reaction.

“Yeah...” She lied, noting how incredibly miniscule his load was inside the spent condom compared to the voluminous fountain that had splashed her the previous evening. Her boyfriend had always been enough for her before, but things were different now. She felt a pit in her stomach knowing that things would likely not go back to how they were between them.

“I’m sorry for getting so upset last night. I just... really, really didn’t want to lose that bet...” Tae muttered, his head hanging downwards.

“It’s okay, babe. Believe me, I know how it feels for Junho to get under your skin.”

“He’s such an ass sometimes. Did you - um - you wore that lingerie to bed with him?” He asked nervously.

“I... did...” Ryujin confessed slowly. “But I just got under the covers and went right to sleep. It’s not like I wore them for him or anything,” she added, knowing full well that the two-piece was in fact at the bottom of the laundry basket, speckled with their roommate’s dry cum. The comment seemed to comfort her boyfriend slightly.

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I can get over it. As long as he doesn’t get the wrong idea.” Tae still wasn’t crazy about his friend getting an eye-full of his girlfriend’s exposed body, but decided not to push the issue further. “I know that you’re just doing all of this to help us survive... And I know I need to step it up. I’ve been a real slob,” the boyfriend admitted.

“Thanks for owning up to it. I believe in you. You just gotta get back out there,” she encouraged.

“You’re right, and I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Though their relationship had deteriorated recently, Ryujin still had feelings for Tae. He had been her first serious partner and they had lost their virginities together. The struggles of late had done damage, but there was still something there. Despite her actions, she still wanted the best for him, and wrestled with the thought that it might be best to just come clean about how things between her and Junho had gotten out of hand. If only she could think straight. The thrill of discovering this new, sexual side of herself, and the twisted pleasure that came with it was overwhelming her sensibilities.

Ryujin dreamed vividly that night. She was in Junho’s bed, but the room looked different for some reason. He was there, stroking his huge dick as usual, and he suddenly reached out and ripped the blanket off of her. She was fully naked, with her fingers in her pussy, frozen like a deer in headlights. “I knew it!” He shouted, and scrambled on top of her. He slapped her creamy folds with his hard manhood and then firmly thrust into her. Ryujin was paralyzed and lay there helplessly while he had his way with her. It felt fucking incredible. She moaned loudly in pleasure, captivated by the animalistic, sex-crazed expression on his face. Then his face morphed into Tae’s.

“Babe? Babe? Ryujin!”

Her eyes snapped open and she found that she was in her own room. Her boyfriend was gently shaking her. “You were moaning in your sleep. I figured you were having a nightmare or something,” he said worriedly.

“Oh... Yeah... A nightmare,” she lied. She immediately noticed that her underwear were drenched. She’d experienced the first of many sexual dreams involving her roommate that night, and waited for Tae to fall asleep to quell the overwhelming urge between her legs.

—

The new routine had been established, and although she would earnestly try each and every time to keep to herself, Ryujin would inevitably end up with her hands wrapped around Junho’s hard cock while his fingers assaulted her cunt.

“Not tonight,” she’d say, turning her back to him as if to go straight to sleep like the faithful girlfriend she was supposed to be. She knew full well he wasn’t going to take “No” for an answer though, and secretly craved his attempts to convince her.

“Oh, playing games again tonight, are we?” He teased. “As if your little pussy isn’t soaking wet in there, waiting to be manhandled.”

She squirmed her thighs together, his words having an effect.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The swoosh of his boxers being removed could be heard.

“Come play with your new favorite toy a little.”

“You’ve got two hands. Use ‘em,” Ryujin teased back.

“If you insist,” he chuckled, scooting towards her and reaching under the blanket.

“No! You know what I meant!”

She squealed as his large hands roamed over her exposed skin. Ryujin always knew the battle was lost the minute he started touching her. Something about the way he manipulated her with his powerful fingers drove her crazy. Before she could get another word in, his toned arm was around her narrow waist, pulling her into him. Now wrapped in his strong embrace, the dainty woman was powerless to resist. She let out an involuntary moan as he firmly pulled her thong to the side and rubbed her slippery clit.

“Why do you always have to put up a fight?” He growled into her ear.

“Ngghh! Because you’re a stupid creep! I’m - Uhnn - not bad like you!” She could hardly get the words out as he finger fucked her, her lower half vibrating with the intensity of his actions. Ryujin squirmed against the large frame of her roommate, his hard cock at full attention and slapping against her quivering thigh.

“You’re a horny little slut, and you know it,” he muttered hoarsely, nibbling her ear. “Why else would your cunt be this fucking wet for me?”

Ryujin wanted to tell him that she despised him, but instead her mouth fell open in silence as she came all over Junho’s invasive fingers. After twitching in pleasure for an imperceptible length of time, she finally drew a breath and let out a girlish whimper of satisfaction. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly he could bring her to orgasm.

“My turn, slut.” He commanded, and watched as his best friend’s girlfriend obediently took his big cock in both hands and got to work.

“Stop calling me that. I’m only doing this so you’ll leave me alone and go to sleep.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm!”

“So it has nothing to do with your secret infatuation with me?” Junho loved to press her buttons while she serviced him.

“Pffft. You wish. This is purely transactional,” she shot back, matter-of-factly.

“Keep telling yourself that, sexy. Ahh... that’s nice. Can you get it wet for me though?”

Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Where’s your lotion?”

“I’m fresh out.”

“Ugh. If it will make this go faster.” She leaned over and drooled a large strand of saliva to coat his shaft before pumping his length diligently with a renewed effort.

“Hooohh... Fuck yeah, just like that.” he encouraged. His roommate was using both hands in unison, fervently stimulating him with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

“Why are you always so damn hard?” She asked, genuinely curious about his libido which was foreign to her.

“Because I’m a fucking alpha,” he laughed as she scoffed at his cliché arrogance. “I don’t know... I’ve always had this massive sex drive. Kinda seems like yours isn’t too far off.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Ryujin argued.

“I think you’re wrong. Two peas in a pod, lady,” he joked as he playfully grabbed at her bra-clad tits.

She couldn’t hold back a brief smile as she flinched, protesting, “Hey, stop!” She squeezed his cock in retaliation, before spitting on it to reapply her lubrication.

“What about Tae? Something tells me he’s not... Keeping up with your needs?”

Ryujin could feel her cheeks blushing. “What? No. No, he’s - It’s fine.”

Junho raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well that sounds... Fine,” he teased.

“Whatever. Okay, let’s see that big alpha load already. My arms are getting tired,” she said sarcastically, jerking his big dick enthusiastically.

“Anything for my hot little cumslut,” he muttered.

Before long, the roomate was grunting with delight as he spurted his fat load into the air, much of the sticky substance covering Ryujin’s slick fingers and slender forearms.

“God damn, baby... You’re getting really good at that...” He cooed.

“You’re disgusting...” She said, suppressing a grin as she messily wiped her slimy hands off onto his thigh. Without even fully cleaning up, she nestled into her spot on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

—

Junho was growing bolder, knowing the shift that was occurring within Ryujin after several nights of giving in to his advances. While cleaning up some dishes in the kitchen after dinner, he noticed her slip behind him to get something out of the cupboard. He glanced back and observed her stretching for a glass on the top shelf. She was already in her night wear: the usual flimsy camisole and skin-tight short shorts. Her toned midriff was exposed as she reached for the receptacle. Junho noted that Tae was focused on his video game with his back turned to them, and silently closed the gap between him and the alluring woman. He pressed into her back and gently held her against him with a hand on her hip.

“Let me get that for you,” he said casually, easily reaching over her and grabbing the glass.

“Hey!” Ryujin whispered harshly, caught off guard and suddenly trapped between the counter and the large frame behind her. “What the hell are you doing!?” She squirmed against him and could feel his hardness poking against the small of her back.

Junho ignored her question, and smelled her hair, firmly holding her still. “God you smell good. Are you excited to cum all over my fingers again tonight?” He murmured softly into her ear, one hand inching down towards her mound. His cock inflated rapidly as he imagined her writhing in pleasure on his bed again.

“Stop! Seriously! You’re gonna-”

“Make you too wet before you say goodnight to Tae?” He interrupted, teasing her verbally as well as with his fingers, which were now pressing against her clit and ever so slightly drawing circles.

“No! Ngh... Junho, please stop... He’s gonna see us...” She pleaded as quietly as she could. Even over her shorts, his firm touch was starting to feel good. She didn’t have the strength to escape his powerful hold and a sense of helplessness washed over her. Her legs started to weaken as her pussy responded to his aggression, growing juicier by the second. Junho’s free hand had traveled up her torso and was lightly grazing her nipples, which were stiff and sensitive.

She knew there was nothing she could do short of calling to her boyfriend for help, but she couldn’t do that. What if he discovered how much their brutish roommate’s groping was turning her on, she thought. Ryujin cursed her body for once again betraying her and giving into the man’s forceful assault. Instead of insisting that he stop, she was becoming jello in his arms, silently accepting that he was going to do what he wanted to her.

“I’m so fucking hard right now... Maybe I should just fuck you right here,” Junho threatened through clenched teeth.

As she lost the battle for control over her body, her mind began to slip as well. She imagined the muscular jerk tugging her shorts down, and thrusting his huge cock into her warm, welcoming cunt. Surely he wouldn’t go that far, she thought. He wouldn’t take the last bit of her innocence then and there in the kitchen and fuck her needy pussy right behind her boyfriend. The vision was beyond tantalizing, and her dripping sex ached for more.

Ryujin surrendered to his dominant touch, and just as she felt an orgasm building, Junho released his grip and shuffled back to the sink. His dismount was so jarring that she nearly groaned in frustration at the instantaneous loss of pleasure. She desperately needed that climax, and could think of nothing else.

“Asshole,” she muttered as she stomped past him, heading straight for his bedroom.

“I just got insanely tired... Goodnight, babe,” she announced to Tae, pausing in the doorway for a brief moment to shoot a stern, suggestive look at Junho. The roommate grinned at her mischievously and tucked his erection into his waistband before following her into the room.

“Night...” Tae answered nonchalantly, too engrossed in his game to notice the oddness of what had just occurred. Had he been more observant, he might have perceived his girlfriend’s earlier than usual departure, her flush red cheeks, or the fact that she’d left an unused glass on the kitchen counter.

Junho closed the door behind him to find that Ryujin was already naked from the waist down and had jumped into his bed. Her pussy was out in the open and glistening with her juices. It was the first time he had actually laid eyes on it, and he wasn’t surprised to find that it appeared pristine. His cock swelled with anticipation as he drank in the sight of her unprotected delicate pinkness.

“Are you gonna finish what you started you fucking perv?” She taunted him while lightly teasing herself.

She was still right on the brink of an orgasm, and her inhibitions had melted completely. Ryujin could’ve easily just finished the job herself, but she craved what she knew would be a far more potent explosion if Junho dug his strong fingers into her. She longed for him to hold her down and force it out of her. She was discovering that the loss of control when he dominated her was a major turn on.

Her expectations were subverted as he swiftly moved between her parted legs and dove face-first into her tender folds. She opened her mouth to oppose his daring action, but her voice got stuck in her throat as his strong tongue graced her sensitive cunt. Her hands reflexively shot out and grasped his hair, holding on for what she knew would be a wild ride. The handsome man worked his tongue expertly, stroking the full length of her pussy with firm, steady licks. She had to stop herself from moaning too loudly, remembering her boyfriend was just on the other side of the wall.

Junho kept her right on the edge, pausing every so often to catch his breath and plant kisses right on her swollen clit. His alluring roommate tasted better than he could’ve imagined. The sweet and tangy flavor was intoxicating and caused all of his blood to rush to his cock. He tested her carefully, paying attention to how her body reacted to his work. Stiffening his tongue, he prodded and teased her entrance, which felt incredibly tight. No doubt, it would feel amazing wrapped around his dick. He wasn’t sure he would be able to prevent himself from penetrating her any longer. The urge was ramping up with each passing second; his instincts becoming harder to ignore.

“Pleeease!” Ryujin whispered in desperation. She was right on the cusp of a big one, but her roommate wouldn’t let her have it. He had her firmly pinned down, legs spread wide as he carefully teased her gushing pussy. When she felt she was one lick away from cumming, he would shift his focus, kissing and gently biting a path away from her aching sex. He was clearly toying with her, and taking the opportunity to sample every inch of her exposed lower half.

Junho couldn’t help but grin as he feasted on the begging girlfriend. Her cute, wanting pleas for more were music to his ears. He took his time, lightly dragging his teeth along her flawless, taut skin whenever he needed her to cool down. “Mmmm... Tastes so good... You like how I tease your cheating little pussy, baby?”

Ryujin groaned in frustration as his hot breath tickled her throbbing clit. “Ugggh... I need to cum soooo badly...”

He prodded her once, flattening his tongue and quickly withdrawing it. “Like this?”

“Yesssss! Oh my god... Why are you doing this to me?” She wanted to scream at him, but knew it was too risky. She hoped the T.V. in the next room was loud enough to cover up her whimpers.

“Because you’re a naughty cheating girlfriend, and you need to be taught a lesson.”

“Ngggh!” She thrust her hips in an attempt to get the last bit of stimulation she needed, but he stopped her just in time, pressing her down into the bed more firmly.

“You resisted me, so now you have to wait until I think you deserve to cum.”

“Fuck, Junho...”

“Well? Do you deserve it?”

“Mhmm! Please!”

“I don’t know about that...” Junho flashed his teeth mischievously and bit the bony peak of her hip.

“Ahhh! Just give it to me! I Deserve it!”

“You’ll be a good cheating slut from now on?”

She hated him more than ever for forcing her to say such submissive things, but she was well beyond the point of having enough resistance left for mere words. “I’ll be good!”

“A good what?”

“A good - Ngh - cheating s-slut!” Ryujin couldn’t stay silent anymore. The long build up was about to hit the breaking point. “Ohhh... Oh fuuuck yesss... Oh my god... I’m about to-Ahh!” She gasped sharply as Junho abruptly stopped stimulating her.

“I’ll make you cum, slut, but I’m going to fuck you after,” he stated, still inches from her soaking pussy.

“Nooo. No, we can’t. Ugh! Pleeeease!” The frustrated woman bucked her hips and pulled at his hair, desperate for release. “Fucking pleeease make me cum,” she continued, her orgasm simmering just below the surface. She needed it more than anything, but had just enough sense left to stop him from taking her fully.

“Anything but that-Oh!”

He stoked the fire with another quick lash of his tongue, but it wasn’t enough to finish her off. Ryujin’s hands left his head and moved to her burning sex, but he deftly caught them with his own, pinning her arms down on either side of her.

“Beg me to fuck you...” He persisted.

“That’s too far! Please, anything else!”

Her mind was racing, searching for a way to convince the withholding jerk.

“I’ll suck your cock! Please! Make me cum and I’ll suck you off!” She blurted out the offer, which she hastily rationalized was a fair trade given the current predicament, though she wasn’t sure where the idea came from.

“Deal,” Junho agreed simply, dipping his face back down to resume his feast. He wasn’t hell-bent on rushing sex with her that night, and was elated to hear her depraved suggestion to service him with her hot little mouth. He released one of her wrists and drove two fingers into her cunt while tonguing her clit like a feral beast.

Immediately, Ryujin’s tight hole constricted and her back arched as her long awaited climax finally popped.

“Ohhhfffuuuuck!”

She cried out in ecstasy, her fingernails digging into Junho’s skull as she clenched him tightly between her thighs. The pleasure-filled girlfriend grinded her pussy against her roommate’s face for what felt like the lengthiest, most intense orgasm of her life, with no regard for the fact that a thin wall was all that separated her unfaithful act from her clueless boyfriend.

When she could finally muster the control to open her eyes, she was greeted by her roommate’s manly visage. His chiseled jaw was slick with her juices and his eyes glowed with a predatory flare that sent a shiver down her spine. She watched as he rose to his knees and peeled off his underwear, allowing his massive cock to spring into view. It dawned on her what she had agreed to moments prior, and she didn’t bother putting up a fight. She was about to have that fat piece of masculine meat in her mouth, and she was secretly thrilled about it.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Ryujin nearly leapt into the air like a startled cat upon hearing the sharp knocks on Junho’s bedroom door.

“Babe?” Tae asked from just outside.

She was frozen in indecision. Maybe he would just assume she was asleep and go away, she thought.

“I know you’re awake. I heard noises a minute ago.”

“Uh-Just a sec!” Ryujin scrambled off of the bed and looked around frantically for her shorts. Her heart was racing as she tried to brace herself for what would surely be a messy confrontation. He had heard her. It was all over. She had really fucked up this time. She tugged her shorts up and took a deep breath, noting that Junho had gotten under the covers and was in his usual sleeping position. She slowly opened the door, her face red-hot with shame, and met Tae’s suspicious gaze.

“You left your phone out here,” he muttered, presenting the device to her.

“Oh... Oops! T-thank you,” she stammered nervously.

“Are you okay?” He reached out and tested her forehead with his palm. “Oh my God. You’re burning up!”

“I am?” Ryujin couldn’t think straight in her panic. “I mean yeah... Now that you mention it-I don’t feel right. Maybe that’s why I was so tired...” She was suddenly hyper aware of the light sweat on her forehead and the slickness of Junho’s saliva between her thighs.

“Well it didn’t sound like you were sleeping...” Tae leaned over to get a peek into the dimly lit bedroom. His roommate appeared to be asleep.

“You just woke me up. Maybe I was talking in my sleep or something?” It was a poor excuse at best, but she crossed her fingers and silently prayed that he would let it go.

“That’s weird... Well if you’re sick you should really get some good rest in your own bed, don’t you think?” He asked, gently rubbing her arm.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right...”

She was more than a little disappointed, but given how fortunate she was to have not been caught, there was no sense in arguing the point. She followed her boyfriend back to their room, and fell asleep to the thought that she had somehow gotten herself into a situation where she now owed her arrogant roommate a blowjob.

Ryujin stirred the next morning to a rustling in her bed. She felt a weight on top of her and opened her heavy eyelids to find Junho’s massive cock staring back at her. She attempted to scoot up and away from him, only to discover that her torso and arms were pinned to the mattress beneath the heavy intruder.

“What the-You can’t be in here!” The young woman was trapped, her eyes darting around the space to confirm that this was indeed the room she shared with her boyfriend.

“I’ve been rock hard since you abandoned me last night. I couldn’t wait any longer,” Junho responded, clearly enjoying her helpless squirming.

“B-but Tae-”

“Shhh... He left to get you medicine, since you’re sooo sick...” He teased sarcastically, gently prodding her plump lips with his enlarged tip. “Time to pay your dues. You better make me cum before he gets back, or I’ll consider it a violation of the deal.”

“Can’t this wait until tomorrow night? This is too risky...” Ryujin tried to reason with the aggressor, but she could already feel herself becoming wet with anticipation. She knew he was going to take what he wanted from her, and couldn’t deny how much that turned her on. The warm, musky meat against her face was demanding her attention, and her mind flickered back to the potent orgasm its owner had brought her to the previous night. Maybe if she was proficient enough to satisfy him quickly, there would be enough time for him to work his magic on her again, she hoped. The pinned girlfriend’s tongue protruded from her lips, and made contact with her roommate’s cock head.

Junho couldn’t help but moan in relief as her wet tongue graced his needy manhood. Another invisible barrier was crumbling around them as his best friend’s girl willingly tasted his hard dick for the first time. She looked adorable, hyper-focused on exploring the ridged surface with little licks here and there. He had the urge to just jam himself into her mouth and fuck her face to completion, but held back in favor of the tortuous but enticing teasing she was putting him through.

“God damn, Ryujin...” He muttered in ecstasy.

She flashed her teeth briefly, flattered by his infatuation, and slowly parted her lips around his velvety skin. Without missing a beat, her roommate began easing his way into her welcoming mouth. As her wet warmth enveloped him inch by inch, her eyes followed the length of his chiseled torso upwards until she met his gaze. As their pupils locked, she felt his thick cock twitch against her tongue, and another deep moan escaped him. His expression of intense desire and hunger made her pussy ache. “Mmmm...” She cooed involuntarily; her mouth now completely full.

Junho began softly thrusting his hips back and forth, aiding Ryujin’s efforts as she repeatedly lifted her head to stimulate him. She had little leverage from her current position, but worked his sensitive organ with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She wanted to do a good job for him; to surprise him with how skilled she could be. He’d been responsible for giving her multiple mind-blowing climaxes, and it felt right to return the favor.

As if he could read her mind, he murmured, “Fuck yes... Ahh, you’re being such a good little cocksucker for me...”

She squirmed beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as a sting of desire accompanied his words. Is that what I am now, she thought, his little cocksucker? She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that the whole situation was immensely hot, and that she wanted more.

Junho detected the lust and submission in her eyes, which encouraged him. “Mmm... Doesn’t it feel so fucking good to be the sexy little slut you’re meant to be?”

Ryujin had never felt so degraded, and though she didn’t want him to stop, she couldn’t allow him to think she had fully given up all control.

“I’m not a slut, you ass. You’re making me do this,” she said defiantly before allowing him to stuff her mouth again.

“And you’re loving it,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she gargled through his warm meat. She lightly dug her nails into his calves, her forearms still secured in place under his weight.

“You want me to get off of your arms so you can play with yourself?” Junho grinned mischievously as he reached behind him and pulled the blanket off of her lower half. She clamped her thighs together in an effort to defend against him, but his strong fingers slipped into the crevice and found their way to her slick pussy.

Ryujin reflexively moaned as he felt his way around her delicate folds. As usual, her body was betraying her, undermining any attempts to deny that she was enjoying his advances. As Junho toyed with her, she began bucking her hips against him, craving more stimulation. He grazed her entrance again and again, never lingering long enough to let the pleasure build. She hated how much of an effect he had on her, her brow furrowed in frustration as his thick shaft slid in and out of her stretched mouth.

Suddenly, he lifted himself off of her and fell onto his back. “Let’s see you put that slutty little mouth to use,” he practically growled, his rigid saliva-covered cock pointing at the ceiling. “Get on your hands and knees.”

“Fuck you,” Ryujin mumbled, complying with his order anyway and positioning herself to continue the taboo blowjob. Her more conservative inner voice was screaming at her for letting this outsider boss her around in the private bed she shared with her boyfriend.

“Ass up, so I can play with you,” he commanded, firmly gripping her thigh and pulling her backside toward him. She moaned again, revealing that she was enjoying his manhandling. She felt like a weightless doll as he effortlessly shifted her body around to his liking. Junho couldn’t help but continue to push her boundaries. He smacked her exposed ass cheek with a loud crack that echoed throughout the room.

“OW! WHAT TH-” Ryujin’s cry of protest was sharply interrupted as his large hand grabbed the back of her head and guided her down onto his thick cock. She gagged and dug her nails into his thigh as he jabbed the back of her throat. One hand wrapped itself in her hair and pulled her back enough to allow her to breathe, while the other began rubbing up and down the length of her creamy pussy. “You fuckin-Ggghhh!”

Junho chewed his bottom lip as he aggressively forced the young girlfriend back onto his dick. He started jerking off his considerable length with her mouth, all while finger fucking her tight pussy and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb.

With each push downwards, Ryujin grew more accustomed to his girth, and her gags gave way to muffled, throaty moans. He was completely having his way with her, and there was little she could do to stop it-not that she wanted to. At first his abrupt assault was appalling, but she quickly warmed up to it. Her juices ran freely down her thighs as he pumped two of his broad fingers in and out of her squelching entrance. Her throat relaxed, and little by little more of his shaft passed through her lips. If she hadn’t felt like a slut before, she was beginning to feel like one now. She had never felt so utterly objectified and depraved. Her ass still stung from his harsh slap, but she found herself craving another. Her emotions and desires were a confusing, chaotic soup, but before she could dwell on them, a powerful orgasm erupted within her.

In a move that subverted even her own expectations, she forcefully pushed herself up, the slimy cock flopping out of her mouth, and screamed, “Oh my God, Junhonn! I’m fucking cumming so hard! Spank me again!” A second later, a sharp jolt of tantalizing pain ran through her as he indulged, and then another. “OH! FUCK YEAHHH!” She exclaimed as she rode the mind-bending climax, tightly gripping his throbbing cock with both hands. He continued to punish her plump backside and ravage her quivering pussy while she shrieked wildly in ecstasy.

The scene was amongst the hottest things Junho had ever witnessed, and he felt that his throbbing cock was on the brink of exploding. He quickly grabbed Ryujin’s hips, twisting her onto her back and straddled her writhing body while he stroked his manhood to completion. With his free hand, he ripped her flimsy top down from her chest, tearing it and exposing her breasts. She yelped in surprise, but was too lost in pleasure to care. With a drawn out grunt from the towering man, a viscous, milky rope shot out and splashed against her cheek. Another landed soundly along the bridge of her nose, and the third across her agape lips, mostly falling into her mouth and coating her tongue. The several remaining blasts of his dense semen barely waned in strength, splattering all over her tits, and painting her torso and tattered shirt. By the time the last few dribbles trickled down her tummy, Ryujin was glazed to the point of being almost unrecognizable.

For several minutes the pair remained frozen in place, breathing heavily and basking in the aftermath of what had just occurred. The fact that she had just willingly sucked her roommate’s big cock and screamed like a slut for him while he covered her in his cum barely seemed to matter at that moment. As her chest rose and fell, she could feel the copious semen dripping down her skin and soaking into the bedding.

Junho was the first to speak, “You ever been plastered like that?”

“Never,” she answered weakly.

“It’s a good look for you,” he added, scooting himself off of her and reaching for his phone. He aimed the camera at her and joked, “Say I’m Junho’s little cum slut.”

“Fuck off!” She couldn’t help but giggle a bit, shielding her face with her open palm. He held the screen out to her, and her jaw dropped as she processed the obscene image on display. It took a full second for Ryujin to recognize the naked woman lewdly sprawled out and coated in jizz in the picture. Even though she had just watched him take the photo, she couldn’t believe the unbelievably slutty looking figure was her. It was also hard to miss how incredibly satisfied her expression appeared. Despite having just cheated on her boyfriend again, with this cocky, manhandling brute no less, Ryujin felt more carefree than she had in a long while. That is, until the sound of the front door opening could be heard through the wall.

“Shit!” She whispered through clenched teeth. “Not again!” Her eyes flickered back and forth indecisively as the door closed loudly and footsteps drew near. Junho sprung into action, scooping her up and repositioning her onto the bed, before pulling the thick comforter over both of them and laying as flat as he could next to her. Ryujin plucked at the covers hurriedly, trying to conceal any shapes, and ducked her face under the blanket as well.

“You awake babe?” Tae asked softly as he entered the dimly lit bedroom.

“Barely... Ugh... Can you please let me sleep a little more?” Ryujin tried her very best to sound natural, but her heart was pounding so hard it was deafening.

“Of course. I got some stuff you should take though-”

“No! I mean... Please leave me be for now. I appreciate you though! I’ll be up soon okay?” She stammered dismissively. If her boyfriend saw her now, there would be no way to explain the shiny globs of cum that still covered her. There was also the issue of getting Junho out of her bedroom without him noticing. She had to think fast.

“Alright. Well I’ll check on you soon,” Tae said.

“Oh, um... Babe? Could you please check my car for my phone charger?” She improvised.

“You can just use mine-”

“No, I need mine please,” she insisted, not sure how to justify it.

“Uh, okay then,” the boyfriend chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

Ryujin held her breath and waited for the apartment to clear. The second the front door closed, she threw the bedding off of her and scrambled towards the foot of the bed. She felt something wrap tightly around her ankle, and she was jerked back towards her roommate, who wrapped his large arms around her.

“Dude!” She yelled as he groped her luscious, sticky tits.

“Round two?” He asked, grinning mischievously and dropping a hand down to her unprotected mound.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Get the fuck out of my room!” She demanded as she tried to wriggle free from his hold. His fingers were already inside of her again, rummaging around in her still sopping wet pussy. “Seriously! Nghhh-Please!”

“I’ll go, but I want to hear you admit how much you loved being my naughty little cum canvas,” he grumbled into her ear while stroking her clit and pinching her nipple.

“Hnnngh... Please... He’s gonna be back any minute-”

“So say it. I don’t care if he sees us.”

“You’re such a-ffffuck-ing ass-ohhh...” Ryujin knew she had no choice. “Fine... I Ioved it...” She had to get away from him before her brain decided the growing climax would be worth the risk.

“Loved what?”

“Ugh... Being your-Being... covered in all your... cum...” She admitted it shamefully.

“It was my pleasure.” Junho immediately released her and strode out of the room, fully naked and as smug as ever. Ryujin followed soon after, ducking into the bathroom and jumping into the shower. Before even attempting to scrub the semen off of her skin, her hands were between her legs. Her sex ached for more attention from her roommate, and she lost count of how many times she got herself off under the scalding water, the potent flavor of his salty seed still on her tongue.

******

Ryujin was sipping a hot, bitter coffee in the back room of a small clothing store, mentally preparing to face another tedious shift of her part-time gig. It was an early weekday morning, and she would likely be responsible for the more boring parts of the job given that there were seldom any customers at this time of day. She could faintly hear her bubbly manager, Amber, chatting away with someone out on the floor, which was surprising given that they had just opened the shop. After tossing the styrofoam cup into the trash can, Ryujin yawned and opened the door to see what all the fuss was about.

Amber, from the looks of it, was in her natural habitat, flirting with some guy who had no doubt accidentally wandered into her trap. The young woman was very well put together, always dawning flawless makeup, in contrast to Ryujin, who was more likely to let her natural beauty shine through. Amber couldn’t help herself around attractive men, and had a reputation for having flings at the drop of a dime. Ryujin watched her touch the tall man’s bicep as she giggled about whatever it was they were discussing. As she drew nearer, she felt as though she recognized that bicep. Then the man turned to her, and to her surprise, it was Junho.

“Hey, Ryujin!” He greeted her cheerfully.

It took her a minute to process his sudden presence in her usually private world of the store. “H-Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I was going to try out this new gym that opened down the street, and then I remembered you mentioned that this was the place you worked at,” he explained, crossing his arms and smiling widely.

Amber appeared a little dismayed that the attention had suddenly shifted away from her. “You guys know each other?”

“Yeah! We live together!” Junho answered.

“Wha-Oh, so this is your boyfriend?” She inquired, clearly disappointed to learn that her chances with him had suddenly plummeted.

“No... he’s just our roommate.” Ryujin replied quickly, starting to worry that Junho would reveal something about the complicated nature of their relationship. It was only two days ago that she had his big cock down her throat before he shot his cum all over her.

“Oh good, so you’re single!” Amber flashed her perfect teeth and planted her palm on his broad chest. She did not know the meaning of subtle.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, realizing an opportunity was developing before his eyes. “Can’t tie this guy down,” Junho said jokingly, flexing his muscles and getting an easy laugh out of his new fan.

“Well you can tie me down...” Amber commented seductively. “Give me your number, hot stuff.”

Ryujin rolled her eyes and turned to leave the sickening interaction.

“See you at home, Ryujin!” Junho called out to her.

“Whatever,” she replied under her breath, grabbing her clipboard off of the counter to start her daily tasks. Ryujin tried to focus on her job, but couldn’t ignore the negative emotions that were rising to the surface. The image of her slutty manager’s hands all over her roommate plagued her mind. First of all, he and I are not dating... I have a boyfriend... They can fuck like rabbits for all I care... The thought did not sit well with her. Ryujin must have muttered the phrase “Who cares” to herself a thousand times throughout the day in an attempt to distance herself from the feelings.

As she readied herself to end the shift, Ryujin noticed Amber smiling ear to ear while she tapped away at her phone. “Oh my God, Ryujin! How come you never told me about this guy? He’s so fucking hot. And guess what? We’re going out tonight!”

Ryujin’s heart sank to her stomach. She’d been secretly hoping that Junho would never actually entertain the idea of spending time with this woman, but apparently she was wrong. They were already set to meet up that night, and knowing them, would almost certainly end up hooking up. She wondered what that would mean for her plans, a night she was meant to spend in his bed. Ryujin tried her best to act naturally, but couldn’t hold back her opposition. “Oh really? After just meeting him?”

“Well, yeah! He seemed super into me, don’t you think?”

“I guess... He’s kind of a jerk though. You might not want to waste your time,” Ryujin explained, secretly ashamed that she was meddling in their plans.

“He seemed nice enough to me,” Amber said dismissively. She wasn’t about to let her coworker rain on her parade. “And that body... Mmm! I bet he has a big dick too. I’m pretty sure I saw some serious bulge going on down there.”

“I dunno. Small dick energy if you ask me,” Ryujin muttered.

“Well I guess I’ll find out soon!” Amber winked. “What do you think I should wear?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Ryujin gathered her things and strolled out of the store in a hurry, her jealousy hitting a tipping point.

******

That night as she and Tae ate dinner, Ryujin found it nearly impossible to focus on the conversation with her boyfriend. She kept eyeing the front door, hoping that Junho would show up alone, having canceled his date. She hated herself for letting the scenario affect her so much. The complicated feelings were a harsh reminder that she had gone way too far with her roommate, and that she needed some normalcy to return to her recently chaotic life.

After cleaning up, the couple cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It wasn’t long before the door to the apartment swung open, and Junho noisily entered, followed closely by a giggling Amber. Ryujin audibly groaned, but luckily the sounds of the film covered up her show of disappointment. As the newcomers shuffled towards the bedroom, Ryujin’s gaze met her roommate’s and the eye contact lingered for an extra beat. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to convey, and her conflicted feelings resulted in a mostly blank expression. He simply grinned, and continued leading his date to his room. Amber waved and said hello to the two of them, winking at Ryujin before disappearing into the private space.

“Wow, just like old times, eh?” Tae said to his girlfriend, clearly elated for the disruption in the night’s sleeping arrangement. “He hasn’t brought a girl home in a while. Guess that means we can stay together tonight.”

“Yeah...” Ryujin was distracted, knowing what was about to happen on the other side of the wall.

“Babe?” Tae lightly shook her.

“Yeah! It’s good!” She agreed simply, snapping out of it. Nothing positive would come out of eavesdropping, she decided. This is good, she told herself. This is normal. Normal is good. She pressed herself into her boyfriend’s hold and returned her attention to the movie, determined to accept the circumstances and enjoy a regular night of being a faithful girlfriend like she was supposed to. Ryujin’s new resolve soothed her conscience, and she felt at peace for the next few minutes.

As the on screen entertainment transitioned into a more silent scene, noises could be heard coming from Junho’s room. “Oh! Oh! Yes! Fuuuck Yes!” Amber suddenly cried out. Ryujin and Tae pretended not to hear it, hoping the movie sounds would pick back up again soon. “Oh my God! Ah! Yeah! Fuck!” It was hard to ignore the woman’s yelps of pleasure, and Ryujin found her mind wandering. It sounded like Junho was fucking her hard, and she could picture his toned body slamming into her. She wondered what position they were in. Is it missionary, or is he taking her from behind? The girlfriend secretly hoped there was no passion, just raw sex. The jealous feelings returned with a vengeance as she was forced to listen to her ditsy manager get railed by her roommate’s big dick. She was getting to experience it in a way Ryujin hadn’t, but that was by her own choice, she reminded herself. She wasn’t supposed to wonder what his massive cock would feel like inside of her. Despite all of these mixed emotions, the thought of it in action in the next room was turning her on.

“Hoy fucking shiiiiiit!” One last exclamation could be heard before the speakers finally covered up the debauchery. Ryujin realized that she could channel her arousal back into the right direction, and placed her hand on her boyfriend’s crotch. She kissed his neck and lightly rubbed him in an attempt to bring his member to life.

“I need you to fuck me,” she whispered into Tae’s ear, smiling as she felt his cock hardening. He turned his head and kissed her, feebly grabbing at her tit.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, grinning at his ravenous girlfriend. “Is it...” His eyes darted in the direction of Junho’s room. “I thought you hated those... sounds.”

“I do, but I just-ugh. Just shut up and fuck me okay?” Ryujin started hastily unzipping his shorts.

“Right here? Babe we-” Tae’s hesitation shattered as his eager girlfriend fished his erection out and took its entire length into her warm mouth. His mouth hung agape in shock as she slid him in and out of her, twisting the saliva-coated base of his cock in her fist. The couple rarely dabbled in oral sex, and here she was enthusiastically enveloping his entire dick. “Ohhh, that feels so good babe...”

Ryujin knew he had a habit of finishing quickly, so her time was limited. She slowed her movements gradually, making eye contact, and released his spongy head with a loud pop. Without a word, the horny young woman took her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom. Amber could be heard moaning again as they exited the living room. Ryujin pushed Tae onto his back, removed her shorts, and climbed on top of him. She slid her thong to the side, and just before impaling herself, he protested, “Wait! Condom!”

“Babe, it’s okay, just pull out,” she pleaded, the heat of the moment slipping through her fingers.

“No, it won’t feel safe. Sorry, just a sec.” Tae slid out from under her and grabbed a packet from his drawer. He fumbled with it for a moment, and had to jerk himself off a bit to get fully hard again.

Ryujin waited patiently, but knew the likelihood of him actually satisfying her was slim to none. She could still faintly hear her manager squealing with delight across the apartment, and wondered if she had already cum for Junho. It was probably a matter of how many times, rather than if it had happened, she thought. “Tae, please get over here and give it to me,” she requested again.

“Okay, ready!” He took his place on his back again, and Ryujin climbed on top of him, finally sinking a hard cock into her depths. It felt great, and they both moaned at the joint stimulation. She put her hands on his chest and began gyrating her hips, finding the rhythm she needed to start building the pleasure. As she rode him, her mind kept traveling to the other bedroom, and she couldn’t prevent the intrusive thought of how different it must feel to be stuffed full of her roommate’s much larger tool. The thought of that monstrosity stretching her open was too wickedly alluring to ignore at the moment, and she allowed the fantasy of being with Junho instead to consume her attention.

He would probably have his big, strong hands all over me right now while I bounced on his fat cock. Hell, he’d probably throw me off of him so that he could have his way with me first. The daydream was fueling Ryujin’s arousal to new heights, and she was bucking into her boyfriend harder and harder.

Tae stared at his sexy girlfriend in awe - her perfectly toned tummy and full, perky tits dancing above him - he could hardly believe she was his. Her sultry expression was one of pure lust. She looked so cute and determined to get off with him. It was all too much, and he felt his climax already rearing its head. “So good... Oh...” He began tensing up.

Ryujin knew the telltale signs of her boyfriend’s completion, and quickly stopped grinding him. “Not yet babe!” She lifted herself off of him, but it was too late, and she watched in disappointment as his dick twitched and spewed a few globs of semen into the condom.

“Fuuuck... I’m sorry...” He muttered shamefully.

“It’s okay... It’s okay... Just... Can you lick me?” Ryujin fell onto her back and spread her legs, her fingers teasing her clit. There was no way she was giving up this orgasm.

“Sure!” Tae was relieved that he could still help his girlfriend get to the finish line, and crawled to her soaking pussy for a taste. He clumsily ran his tongue around the area, and jabbed at her entrance a few times. “Mmm is that good?”

“It’s... Fine. Yeah, just keep licking right there... Mhmm...” She closed her eyes and focused on stimulating her clit. His tongue was better than nothing, but it was night and day when compared to what Junho had done to her. God... The way he held me down and ate me like I was his last meal... Groping me and making me squirm while forcing me to admit that I was his cheating slut...

“Ngh! Ohhhhh...” Ryujin moaned while picturing her roommate dominating her. She rubbed herself with fervor and ground her sex into Tae’s face. She was almost there. “Beg me to fuck you.” Junho’s words rang in her mind. “Please fuck me,” she whimpered under her breath. A scalding wave of pleasure washed over her as she orgasmed, her jaw dropping and back arching. She pressed firmly onto her clit, tightly trapping her fingers and her boyfriend between her quivering thighs. She drew breath slowly and shakily as the endorphins ran their course, eventually subsiding and leaving her limp and sweaty.

“Holy shit, babe... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cum that hard,” Tae said admiringly, with a dash of pride at thinking he was solely responsible.

“Yeah... Sometimes...” She cooed, still lost in the aftermath.

“Well, goodnight.” He kissed her lips.

“Goodnight...” Ryujin drifted to sleep effortlessly, even though the sounds of her roommate and coworker still going at it could be heard in the distance.

******

Ryujin woke the next morning before the sunlight had even pierced her bedroom window. With an anxious pit in her stomach, she checked her work schedule and was reminded that she was scheduled to open the store with Amber again that morning. She contemplated calling out sick, dreading the awkward interaction that would surely occur upon her arrival, but decided to be brave and face the day. She quietly slipped out of her room, carefully listening for any indication that the woman was still in her apartment. All was silent, so she hopped into the shower and hurriedly readied herself to leave.

She tip-toed through the front door, relieved that no one else had seemed to have stirred yet, and left for work. Ryujin spent her short commute mentally rehearsing what she might say to her manager, or how to avoid her. Undoubtedly she would want to gush about her experience with Junho, which Ryujin was not ready to hear. She had gotten enough of an earful about it already. Despite arriving quite a bit early, she was surprised to see Amber’s car was already in the parking lot.

“Hey, Amber,” she said, reluctantly greeting the woman. Might as well try to play nice, she figured.

“Hey...” Amber replied back, with no enthusiasm and a hint of melancholy.

Ryujin raised an eyebrow. This was not at all how she expected this interaction to go. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine...” Amber was avoiding eye contact and fiddling with a tablet.

“Not gonna lie... I kind of expected you to be in a better mood this morning,” Ryujin stated, now filled with curiosity.

“Heh...”

“You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Ugh... No big deal. You were right though, he’s kind of a jerk.” Amber said, finally looking up from her arbitrary task.

“Oh.” Ryujin wasn’t sure what to say next. What could Junho have possibly done for her to have this reaction, especially after a night of what sounded like amazing sex. “It sounded like... I mean, weren’t you guys...”

“He’s a great fuck if that’s what you’re getting at. Like, crazy good...”

“Then what happened? Just his general attitude got to you, or?”

“No... I can deal with that...” Amber muttered, avoiding eye contact again.

“Well?” Ryujin couldn’t let it go. The mystery was too captivating at that point.

Amber turned bright red and sighed. “Fine. He... Don’t tell anyone, but... He said your name. Right in the middle of what I thought was the best sex of all time, he called me Ryujin.”

“Oh... I’m-Sorry...” Ryujin placed her hand on her coworker’s shoulder awkwardly, unsure of how to react outwardly, but well aware that she couldn’t allow her true emotions to escape her just yet. She was equally shocked and elated to hear of her roommate’s mistake.

“It’s fine. It was just a stupid hook up. I’ll get over it,” Amber insisted in a show of maturity.

“That sucks though. I’m sorry that happened.” Ryujin tried to reassure her.

“Thanks... That guy is obviously into you, Ryujin. I was picking up on some vibes when he was here yesterday too, but I guess I didn’t want to believe in them.”

“No... I’m sure it was just a mindless slip of the tongue,” she said, not believing her own words. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, I don’t wanna tell you how to live your life, girl, but for your sake I hope your man fucks half as good as that stud.”

The women did not discuss the subject any further, and began independently getting their daily tasks done. About an hour later, Ryujin was organizing a shelf when she heard unintelligible voices conversing, followed by Amber loudly announcing, “I don’t wanna talk about it. Just drop it, okay? No harm done.” She peered around the corner and saw her manager, blushing and walking towards her. Junho was behind her, looking a little less cool and collected than usual. “It’s just embarrassing,” Amber whispered as she passed her and headed for the exit. “Now’s a good time to take my lunch break.”

Ryujin approached the tall man with a spring in her step, more than a little excited to see him after hearing what had happened. “Can’t get enough of her, eh?”

Junho chuckled strangely, “Just wanted to say hi I guess.” He wasn’t sure if the women had discussed the fumble, and preferred his roommate knew nothing about it.

Is he being awkward? Ryujin wondered, suppressing a smile at his rare show of vulnerability. She was looking forward to fishing the information out of him. “Looks like she didn’t wanna talk. What could that be about?”

He shrugged. “Dunno...”

“Hm, guess she wasn’t impressed,” she teased, glancing down at his package. She decided it was more fun that he didn’t know that Amber had spilled the beans to her already.

“I think you know that that’s basically impossible,” he defended himself, straightening his posture.

“How would I know that?” Ryujin asked, subconsciously taking a step towards him.

“If you don’t by now, you will in due time,” he replied, closing the distance further.

“Well if you keep bringing random girls home, there won’t be a lot of time for that, will there?” She knew what her comment was suggesting, and worried that it might have been too forward.

“True.” He said simply.

Ryujin’s heart rate quickened as she took in his scent and felt his eyes scanning her body. She considered the space around her, quickly observing the emptiness of the store, and the security camera that they were in partial view of. “So what can I help you with today? You mentioned you were looking to try on some new pants?” She aimlessly picked up a pair of jeans that were conveniently resting on the shelf beside them, and offered them to him.

“You think these will be a good fit?” He asked, seamlessly slipping into the role of the unfamiliar customer.

“Yeah! Let me show you to the dressing rooms,” she announced. As soon as the words left her lips, she knew what was about to happen. Her eyes darted around again to confirm. There was no one in sight, and she knew for a fact that there weren’t any cameras in the dressing room area, including the common space where the employees would often spend time watching over the rooms and organizing the abandoned garments. She led Junho across the room and into the private alcove. “Here we are, sir,” she said in her professional customer service voice, holding the door open for him and feeling a tingle of excitement as his hard body brushed past her.

“I think I’m gonna need some help, miss,” he eyed her knowingly.

“Oh? What else can I do for you?” Ryujin’s pulse quickened in anticipation.

“I’m just a little sore from the gym, and was hoping you could help me out of these joggers.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that sort of thing is allowed here-Ah!” She was interrupted as Junho’s hand grabbed her slender waist and pulled her into the room. He aggressively pushed the door closed and his large frame pinned her against the wall of the tiny room. Her body was trapped between the cool partition and his warm chest. “I could get into a lot of troub-” Ryujin was once again interrupted, his lips mashing into hers, and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

“Mmmm...” She moaned into the kiss as her defenses vanished, and she offered her tongue to him. His strong hands slowly ran down her back and to her ass, which he then squeezed and used to lift her off of the ground. Still pinned against the wall, she was now at his height, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her firmly and passionately, and she mirrored his intensity. They were basically devouring each other in the cramped space, as if they had both been starved for affection. Ryujin could feel his hardness swelling rapidly against her, like it was threatening to rip through their clothing and penetrate her. She squeezed him into her more tightly, enhancing the friction between their wanting genitals.

Ryujin was the first to break the kiss, panting heavily, and dropped her leg to the ground, which caused Junho to let her down. She could feel her pussy was already soaking wet from the encounter. She found herself wishing to please him in that moment; to prove that she knew how to satisfy him. The young girlfriend dropped to her knees and started to tug at her hung roommate’s waistband until his massive erection sprung out before her eyes. She took his rock hard cock in her soft hand and gave the tip a small peck.

“God, you look like such a hot little slut with my big dick on your face,” Junho admired, resting his meaty appendage along the bridge of her nose, and gliding his smooth shaft ever so slightly along her skin. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “Did you miss me last night?”

“Not as much as you missed me,” she replied, sticking out her tongue and licking up the length of his cock. Junho chuckled and allowed her to take control as she flicked the underside of his head with her tongue and pushed her pursed lips against it. Ryujin slowly allowed him inside, taking in his fat piece of meat one centimeter at a time. At about four inches or so, he hit the back of her throat, and she held him there while her tongue snaked back and forth. She used her hand to spread her saliva down the rest of his length, lightly jerking the base while she bobbed her head on the third that she could fit.

Junho inhaled through his teeth and groaned in pleasure as his roommate serviced him. He took a moment to appreciate the wild turn of events that had gotten him into Ryujin’s lovely mouth that morning. He hadn’t been sure what would come of confronting the women after what had transpired the night before, but he’d felt a strong inclination to show up and figure it out. This outcome was about as well as it could have possibly gone for him, and he allowed himself a minute to get lost in her bright, determined eyes. “Whoofff... You’re getting good at this, baby.” He battled the compulsion to increase the intensity and start fucking her face again, deciding to let her continue proving herself while he relaxed this time around.

Ryujin pulled him out of her mouth with a slurp, and jerked him off with both hands, smiling with her tongue out. “You think?” In no mood to pretend she wasn’t enjoying herself, she genuinely wanted to hear more praise from him. She knew she wasn’t particularly experienced sucking cock, especially when compared with her slutty manager, but secretly hoped she possessed an innate talent that would impress Junho. She had more or less let him have his way during their previous encounter, but she was now in the driver’s seat, and didn’t want to disappoint.

“Definitely... You’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up,” he encouraged.

The cheating girlfriend slid the throbbing dick back into her mouth, pleased to hear she was succeeding. She did feel a sense of urgency, remembering where she was, and that Amber could come back at any time. More risky still, a customer might quietly drop in, and they’d probably hear the obscene squelching sounds coming from the small dressing room as she began pumping Junho’s cock with increased enthusiasm.

“Ahh... Fuck yeah... That’s my good little cocksucker... Is it making you all wet to be on your knees like this in public?” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Mhmmm,” she answered with a slight nod. She couldn’t believe how turned on the whole thing was making her. If she’d been told a month ago that she’d be blowing Junho at some random clothing store, she would consider it impossible. The risk of getting caught was another spicy factor that only made the interaction even hotter. Ryujin caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror beside them, noticing her watery eyes and the thick rope of saliva dangling from her chin while her lips stretched to accept the thick manhood. She truly felt like his little cocksucker, and the aching need in her pussy insisted that it was the way to be.

“Fuck, Ryujin... I’m getting close,” Junho mumbled.

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” Ryujin gagged on her roommate’s big dick as it jabbed the back of her throat repeatedly. She realized she would have to swallow his entire load, as she was in no position to be glazed in cum at the moment. Her shift had barely started, and she would have to work the next several hours in whatever state he left her in. Ryujin began mentally preparing herself to handle what would undoubtedly be a massive volume of semen.

“Oh fuck... Just like that, slut...”

“Gllgh. Gllgh. Gllgh.” She could feel him throbbing against her tongue.

“Oh my fucking... Mmmm!” Junho groaned in pleasure as his cock jumped in Ryujin’s tight, wet mouth. A viscous string of salty-sweet seed splashed the back of her throat, and she gagged at the unexpected force of it. Clamping her lips firmly around him, she managed to swallow just in time for another shot of cum to quickly fill the little space there was. She drank it down as swiftly as possible while his big cock pulsed wildly and relentlessly ejaculated into her. Ryujin surprised herself as she managed to mostly contain his impossibly heavy dose, only a small amount dribbling from the corners of her lips.

Junho watched the young girlfriend in a daze as she gulped down the last of his seed, and began sucking and licking his cock clean automatically. She continued to exceed his expectations, and he once again privately counted his blessings. He fantasized about keeping her in that room with him for the rest of the day, or at least for long enough to finally fuck her. That would have to wait, he decided, and he took her hand in his, lifting her to her feet and pulling her against him.

Ryujin lovingly licked away the last remnants of cum from his barely-deflated shaft. His potent flavor overwhelmed all of her senses, and she thought about how many nights she’d seen all of his fluids go to waste. This time, every drop was traveling down to her belly, which, for reasons she didn’t understand, was intensely erotic for her. She felt Junho’s strong hand take hers, and before she knew it, found herself in his arms again. He kissed her firmly, and she reciprocated, the taste of his tongue mixing into the already intoxicating Junho cocktail she was experiencing. She felt his hands roam down her back and slip into her pants. He squeezed her plump ass as their tongues swirled around each other, and her pussy drooled in anticipation. Her roommate’s thick finger traveled further down, disregarding the barrier of her panties, and tunneled its way to her soaking lips.

“Ohhh... Pleeease...” She moaned into his mouth as he lightly traced lines up and down her slick entrance. The last bit of caution she had regarding the setting melted away, as she grinded her sticky pussy into his fingers. Then he withdrew. Slowly, but deliberately, he retracted, and with one last kiss, left her without his touch.

“I’ll take care of you tonight,” he said seductively, and turned to leave.

Ryujin spent the next few minutes composing herself, mustering up every ounce of self-control not to finish herself off. She rehearsed a “normal” smile in the mirror, and strode back out into the store, the taste of her roommate still on her lips.

Ryujin returned home in the evening after a long day of work followed by shopping for materials she would need for her upcoming university classes. She entered the shared apartment to find Tae and Junho about to take a shot of alcohol.

“Heyyy! Just in time!” Her boyfriend, looking more clean-cut than he had in a while, greeted her cheerfully. “Guess what, babe? I landed a job!”

Ryujin’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! That’s great! I didn’t even know you were-”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he explained, handing her a shot glass. “I’ve been in contact with them and had the in-person interview this morning, and they got back to me just a few hours later. The stars just aligned on this one!”

“That’s so awesome! Congrats!” She exclaimed, legitimately happy for him. The trio gulped down their celebratory liquid and enjoyed a couple rounds of a simple drinking game. Tae described his interview in more detail, and the others learned that the new job was a step down from his previous one, but still seemed decent and stable. Anything was better than the sedentary life he had been living for the past few months, Ryujin decided.

As the drinks flowed, the elephant in the room grew larger, until Tae finally broached the subject. “So I guess this means we can finally go back to normal, right?” He asked the group suddenly.

Ryujin waited to see if Junho would respond, and he did. “Eventually, yeah. Let’s wait to see that first paycheck though, eh big guy?” He chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. “Besides, I already paid for this month.” The handsome man smirked at his friend’s girlfriend knowingly, and she felt a tingle between her legs. She had just gulped down all of his cum that very morning, and shuddered at the thought of what he was planning to do to her that night.

“Well it won’t be much longer now. I start next week, so expect that money soon. We need to put this shit behind us,” he said firmly, surprising the others with his sudden boost in confidence. “Be right back.”

As Tae headed towards the bathroom, Junho wrapped an arm around Ryujin, and pulled her against him. “I guess that means we better make every second count,” he muttered in her ear as his hand roamed to her chest, squeezing her pliant flesh.

“Stop!” She whispered, squirming in his strong embrace. Both hands were now roughly groping her tits, and she could feel her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of her top. Her roommate’s warm breath bathed her neck before his teeth lightly scraped it. “Junho, seriously...” Ryujin protested as the dangerous sensations of her body’s consent began to spread in her loins.

As he kissed and nibbled her soft skin, Junho could actually feel her pulse quickening. The toilet flushed, and he slowly withdrew from the petite woman. “Where’s a dressing room when you need one?” He joked, smiling at her as she quickly composed herself and fixed her shirt.

“You’re such a fucking perv,” she chastised her roommate just before Tae returned to the couch. The game continued, and Junho took every chance to steal a feel of Ryujin, from subtly bumping his body into hers, to outright groping her when his friend was distracted. The man clearly had an appetite, and his risky advances were making her horny. At one point she let her gaze linger on the prominent bulge in his pants, and felt the urge to climb into his lap so he could put his hands all over her. After playing around a while longer, Tae announced he was ready for bed, and held his hand out to his girlfriend invitingly.

“Mmm wrong night, buddy.” Junho pointed out.

Tae shot him a look of disapproval. “I’m not going to sleep just yet. Will you join me, babe?”

“I see...” the cocky man laughed. “Enjoy, you two. But send her to my room when you’re done,” he instructed, winking.

Ryujin should’ve been used to his boldness by now, but still found herself slightly shocked that he would make such a suggestive comment in front of Tae. She rose to her feet and followed her boyfriend, thinking about how slutty it made her feel to be ordered around between the two bedrooms, and noticing that it turned her on.

As soon as they closed the door, Tae kissed her, and started removing her clothes. Ryujin was slightly taken aback by his newfound ability to take charge, but was pleasantly surprised. He pushed her to the bed, and rolled a condom onto his modest erection. He mounted his girlfriend, spearing her with his hardness, and began pumping away. “Wow, you’re so wet already,” he beamed. “My good news has you all excited, eh?” She nodded in response, focused on trying to get into the moment. While she was undoubtedly happy for his success, the moistness in her pussy was caused by Junho’s repeated sneaky touches throughout the night.

After nearly ten minutes of actually decent sex, compared to their recent attempts together, Tae ejaculated into his protection, and slumped on top of her. Ryujin had almost orgasmed, but ended up faking a small one as he finished. She thought about completing the job herself, or asking him to eat her out like the last time they were intimate, but decided to enjoy the restful moment with him instead. He’s too tired anyway, she rationalized to herself, refusing to acknowledge that perhaps she was saving herself for what would inevitably happen in the next bedroom.

The young woman lay there in silence, listening to her boyfriend’s deep breathing. She did feel guilty. She’d coexisted with the uncomfortable emotion for a while now, locking it away when she could, but forced to face it in the quiet moments. Whatever it was that had developed between her and Junho, it was going to come to an end. It always had to. Knowing it was a temporary thing made the guilt easier to deal with. Ryujin felt that her future self could move on and accept that she and her roommate were just getting something out of their systems during this odd time in their lives. It also helped to remind herself that they had managed to keep themselves from going all the way, and had not actually had sex, which had to count for something.

Tae’s breath slowed to a dull snore, and Ryujin scooted out from under the sleeping man. It was an Junho night, and she had to finish out the agreement. She slipped into a thong and baggy t-shirt before tiptoeing towards the bedroom at the other end of the apartment. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering about as she contemplated what might happen in there that night. Will he be waiting for me with his big hard dick in hand? Will he make me suck it again, and cum down my throat? Maybe he’ll lick my pussy. Ryujin grew hornier the more she thought about the vast menu of dirty acts they might indulge in. She reassured herself that as long as they didn’t push the boundaries any further, and were committed to stopping altogether soon, she could enjoy herself.

She opened the door and was surprised to find that the light was off, and her roommate was seemingly asleep already. How long had I been daydreaming? She wondered, trying to suppress her disappointment as she crawled into her side of the bed. “You asleep?” She whispered, lightly brushing his shoulder, but he did not react. Still in an aroused state, she lay motionless for several minutes, enjoying the comfortable mattress and pleasant fragrance of Junho’s room. A setting that had once been so new and surreal was quite familiar now, and she slowly drifted to sleep with the thought that it would be one of the last remaining nights she would experience it.

******

The first thing that Ryujin noticed as she regained consciousness was a throbbing sensation in her pelvic region, and that her pussy felt soaking wet. As she contemplated her dark surroundings, she realized that Junho was spooning her, and clutching her tightly against him. His broad forearm was resting snugly across her torso, and his hand had gone up her shirt. A tingle of pleasure shot from her chest to her sex as he twisted her erect nipple. He was awake, and he had her small frame completely constricted in his hold. Ryujin felt a warmth on her pussy, and gasped at the sudden awareness of what was happening. Junho’s big, hard cock was rubbing back and forth across her creamy folds, steadily tracing a line along her entrance, and making her gush as it made contact with her clit.

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked, her voice cracking.

“Giving you what you need, obviously.” He replied, his stubbly chin scratching the skin behind her ear.

“But, you can’t-” She argued, feeling utterly helpless in his powerful clutch. She wondered what had happened to her underwear, which had apparently been removed. The forbidden friction between their genitals felt so wickedly good, and her body craved more.

“Can’t what? Do this?” He thrust his hips ever so slightly forward and his thick head prodded against her tight entrance, threatening to break the seal.

“NO!” Ryujin shouted. Her mind was racing now. Is this really about to happen? Is his huge dick about to stretch me open? The intrusive thought had bombarded her mind for so long now, and it was on the brink of becoming a reality. Junho’s large hand snaked up her chest, through the opening of her shirt, and clamped over her mouth. “Mmm!” She half-moaned, half-protested into his meaty palm. Feeling even more powerless than before, she writhed against him, able to move just enough that his cock slipped out of the crater and slid along her slippery slit. It kept finding its way back though, and pushed into her barrier a bit harder each time.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to feel so amazing in a second. Just give in,” he murmured, his words equal parts titillating and threatening.

Ryujin felt like she was about to be devoured by a python as she struggled against her roommate. She was completely at his mercy and was realizing that she was not going to be able to stop him. Is he even wearing a condom? She doubted he’d bothered to use protection, and a shiver ran down her spine at the idea that he was about to stuff his bare dick into her. It was something she’d never experienced, and made her feel even more vulnerable than she already was.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re half asleep, and for all you know I’m your boyfriend. Just lay there and take it like a good little slut, okay?” Junho thrusted his throbbing cock more firmly still, and Ryujin’s tight hole began to stretch around the large, invading circumference. Somehow his twisted suggestion helped her relax slightly. She wasn’t the one pushing things further, and thus didn’t have to be responsible for it. She knew the logic was deeply flawed, but her brain was wholly flooded with desire and not capable of thinking straight. She could feel his fat, bulbous head sinking further into her one painfully slow centimeter at a time, and her pussy oozed lubrication to prepare for him.

Junho’s mushroom tip finally crossed the threshold, and it was suddenly buried completely, her taut walls enclosing it. As shallow as he was, it already felt like nothing Ryujin had ever experienced, and she braced herself for what would come next. Instead of further penetrating though, he went the other direction, slowly pulling out of her clinging pinkness.

He groaned quietly in her ear before pushing into her again, taking care to move as slowly as possible to allow her sex time to warm up to his. His roommate’s warm, gripping cunt felt even tighter than he imagined it would, and he was determined to enjoy every single fraction of a second as he breached her defenses. The sensation on the sensitive ridge of his crown as he passed into her again was euphoric, and he’d only barely sampled her surface. Junho felt his balls tighten as he fought the urge to drill into her further, managing his pace with all the control he could muster.

Ryujin’s entire body was ablaze. Her roommate’s careful teasing was breaking her will one painfully shallow thrust at a time. The need to have his fat cock fill more of her was becoming unbearable, and she began involuntarily bucking her hips back into him. Her efforts were mostly fruitless though, as he held her in place with unyielding rigidity. Her weak attempts to capture more of him only accomplished a dull feeling of shame as her deafening lust drowned out the last bits of reluctance she had left.

A thin layer of sweat was forming upon both of them as the heated interaction between their bodies went on. Junho continued to edge his tip in and out of her entrance, and could feel her juices coating him more and more, the viscous liquid running down the veiny surface area of his shaft. He felt her struggles to escape slowly morph into struggles to take in more of his cock, which would’ve prompted a triumphant grin if his face wasn’t already occupied with absolute pleasure.

“God, you feel incredible. Do you think your hot little pussy is ready for more of me?” He relaxed his grip on her jaw, allowing her the opportunity to reply as he continued to tease her.

“Nggghhh...” Ryujin couldn’t take it anymore. The rational part of her brain that had reaffirmed how wrong it was to be messing around with her roommate was lost in a thick soup of arousal. She was going to be fucked by Junho. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that mattered to her. He was going to take her whether she wanted it or not, and she privately accepted that she wanted it more than anything. She shuddered in his arms; the thought of his monster cock filling her up completely was her singular focus.

“Beg me for more you sexy little slut,” he commanded.

“Fuuuuck...” She moaned. Despite how badly she wanted him, to actually say it out loud was too depraved.

Junho ceased his thrusting after pulling out of her, his throbbing hardness resting against her clit. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Just say it, and I’ll handle the rest...”

“Uggghh! Mmmpfff!” Ryujin tried desperately to wiggle her bottom into him, but could only slather her drenched lips against his skin. It wasn’t enough. Nothing but his entire, juicy dick fucking her would ever be enough. “Fuck! Fuck me! PLEASE FUCK ME!” As the words left her lips, her creamy opening was parted and her depths were stretched around him as he tunneled into her. “OHHHHH!” Her mind felt like it was exploding as every surface of her tight pussy was assaulted by his thick, throbbing cock. It forced its way deeper and deeper for what felt like an eternity, until it battered against her cervix. “FUCK!” She was absolutely stuffed full of Junho, and it felt like nothing she could’ve ever described before. She could perceive every subtle contour of his naked member pulsing inside of her, his skin against hers with no protective barrier.

Then he pulled out, swiftly and smoothly, the entire length passing through her again in reverse. She gasped sharply for air, just in time for him to plunge back into her. His hips crashed into bare ass with a loud slap, sending ripples throughout her curves as his invading cock sent shockwaves throughout the deepest parts of her. “FUHUHUHHHCK!” Ryujin’s muscles tensed up, and she was suddenly aware that a massive orgasm was about to consume her. “YES! YES! YESSSS!”

Junho unleashed his third powerful stroke, and Ryujin let out a guttural moan as she came the hardest she ever had in her life. As her body was flooded with endorphins, she writhed against him in total pleasure. He remained firmly planted inside of her, and she could feel her pussy spasming and clenching around him. She felt as though she was on a different planet as her climax rocked her body relentlessly. After floating on a cloud for a length of time that was not perceivable to her, she felt her roommate’s big cock move within her again.

With another loud crack of skin on skin impact, he thrust into her a fourth time, then a fifth. The fire that was Ryujin’s orgasm was stoked again and again as he fucked her with a steady and deliberate rhythm. “Oh my FUCKING Gahhhh!” Her screams of approval trembled as he pummeled her. The most potent climax of her life also became the longest as he would not let up. She couldn’t believe how incredibly intense it felt to be taken by him. She wondered if she had just discovered what sex was supposed to be like. Surely not. Surely it was exceedingly rare to feel this fucking good. She dug her fingernails into his forearm, holding on for dear life as he continued assaulting her.

Junho was utterly enthralled by his roommate’s body as he gave her his all. He was finally experiencing what he’d dreamed about for months, and it was even better than everything he’d hoped for. Her tight, creamy pussy hugged his cock perfectly as he molded her depths. The feel of her supple young body spasming in his arms, and her uncontrollable moans of pleasure were beyond encouraging. He was elated at how quickly she had taken to his dick. As he slammed into her again and again, his room was filled with the obscene sounds of their coupling. If his friend happened to be awake, he thought, there would be absolutely no hiding what was occurring. He was too wrapped up in the moment to care though, and he focused all of his attention on the gorgeous woman that he was currently inside of.

“God... Damn... That... Pussy... Feels... Good...” Junho growled with each firm thrust into Ryujin. He had the idea to slow down for a minute; to kiss her, and to let her face him. He decided that it wasn’t the time for sensual love-making though. If there was too much consent on her part, perhaps the guilt would overwhelm her, and create more of a future obstacle. In time, he planned, she would get over that, and be completely his, but he had to navigate the waters carefully. In that moment, only raw, animalistic fucking was what she needed. He would continue to take her from behind and give her an experience she would never forget.

With that thought, he stopped pumping for a moment, and lifted himself onto his knees while rotating her body, resting upon her prone form. Ryujin whimpered as he pulled out of her, her thighs still twitching slightly. There was just enough moonlight to see that her entire bottom was coated in glistening juices. Her full, round ass looked immensely appetizing as he lined up his slimy cock with her swollen pussy. He entered her slowly at first, bottoming out and savoring the return of her warm, wet embrace. “Mmm... This slutty little body was made for big cock,” he grumbled as he squeezed her malleable cheeks. Junho adjusted himself into a push-up like position with his hands on her lower back, wrapping most of her narrow waist in his sizable grip.

Ryujin was still in such a daze that she was barely aware of Junho moving on top of her. She felt a sudden vast emptiness that longed to be filled again, and unintelligibly cried out for more as her body was pinned against the mattress under his considerable weight. Finally, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched around him returned, and she clamped her eyes shut to endure it. “Ohhhhfff... Yes!” The new positioning felt different somehow, and her pussy gushed at the new variety of stimulation. She felt a bead of sweat dribble down the bridge of her nose before it was launched onto the pillow as Junho bucked into her from behind. “Oh my GOD!” She clenched the fabric in desperation as her roommate’s big dick began pounding her again. The amount of force that was being exerted into her body was mind-blowing. She had never felt so engulfed in dominance, as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll to be fucked by this apex masculine creature. It awakened something primal in her, and she came again at the thought of it. “I’M CUMMM-OHHHH!”

“Fuck yes baby... Cum all over that big cock you slut!” Junho was giving it to her at a renewed pace, his pelvis crashing into her ass again and again. Her convulsing pussy felt so incredibly good, and he groaned through the ecstasy that her responsive body was dealing him. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her upper body towards him, curving her flexible spine. He leaned back and continued to take her with him, her knees bending and bottom lifting off of the bed. With one hand on her luscious hip and the other still tangled up in her hair, he continued fucking his best friend’s girlfriend with all the strength he had.

Ryujin felt numb with pleasure from head to toe as her roommate had his way with her. It felt like she was being fucked through one long continuous orgasm, and she wanted it to never end. She was completely dumbfounded at the immense contrast between sex with her boyfriend, and the mouth-watering brutish treatment she was experiencing at that moment. Tae felt good inside of her, but she almost always needed some additional form of external stimulation to complement him. Junho, on the other hand, was a totally different feeling, and he was reaching places deep inside of her that had never been touched before. In addition to his ability to use his massive cock, the way he manhandled her and manipulated her body to suit him was an insanely hot turn on.

Junho admired Ryujin’s luscious figure beneath him. He couldn’t believe his luck at how deep she was able to take him in. He was penetrating her with his entire length, and it felt like the exact perfect fit. He was fucking her like a wild man, and she seemed to be loving every second of it. His heavy balls were constricting as they slapped repeatedly into her clit, and he began to feel that he was ready to burst. He slammed into her for the final few strokes he could manage before releasing a deep, satisfying roar and pulling out of her with a loud squelch. His throbbing cock instantly launched a thick, lengthy rope of semen that splattered against the back of her head and ran down the entire length of her spine. Another viscous strand was flung onto her, and several more followed, coating the young girlfriend’s backside in his sticky seed.

Ryujin moaned repeatedly as she felt her roommate climaxing all over her. She reveled in the dirty feeling of his cum forcefully blasting against her skin while her own orgasm still pulsed within her. He let go of her hair and her face slumped into the pillow, the sudden darkness only enhancing her sense of touch. The last two spurts splashed against her pussy directly, which felt titillating and erotic in a dangerous sort of way. She felt his shockingly heavy load pooling at the curved small of her back, and dripping down her ass cheeks. The thoroughly fucked woman remained still for a while with her plump bottom in the air, catching her breath while her head span aimlessly in a dense fog of ecstasy.

SMACK!

Junho’s wide palm brought her back to reality as he slapped her exposed cheek, sending beads of semen flying. She let out a girlish yelp that normally would’ve embarrassed her, but in that moment it was who she was. She was Junho’s fuck doll, and she felt far too satisfied to question it; more satisfied in fact, than possibly ever before. She collapsed into the soft mattress and felt him cover her with the blanket before passing out.

******

When Ryujin woke again, her brain felt clear and calm, but something about the lighting in the room felt off. She reached for her phone and felt a stab of panic as she realized she had slept in well past her usual rising time. Remembering she had the day off made the lateness of the morning less troubling, but there were several missed texts from Tae. She sat up, and the stinging soreness between her legs flooded her with memories of the previous night. She glanced over and was relieved to find that Junho had already left. She quickly swiped at her screen, fearing that her boyfriend had surely heard the debauchery. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” She cursed to herself, regretting how recklessly loud she had been. Her worries began to fade as she read his messages. He made no comments suggesting that he had any idea of what had transpired. He merely asked if she wanted to wake up and join him for some “Back to work” shopping.

As she peeled the blanket from her sticky body, she silently thanked the universe that Tae had not come to wake her in person. She twisted her torso to discover that she was still absolutely covered in her roommate’s drying cum. If her boyfriend had simply cracked the door open, the smell of the room alone would’ve been a dead giveaway. The stink of sex hung heavily in the air, a potent reminder of how intense the evening had been. Despite how physically sore and mentally conflicted she felt at that moment, the memories of the encounter and the evidence all over her skin was highly arousing. Her pussy was swollen and red, yet was already beginning to leak her sexual fluids. The feeling of Junho’s cock inside of her was not an easily dismissable thought, and the way he had taken her was nothing short of mind-blowing. Ryujin resisted the urge to touch herself, and instead jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.

As the scalding water cleared the mess that Junho had left behind, Ryujin pondered her current predicament. Gone was the comfort that full-on, penetrative sex was still reserved for Tae alone, the last remaining pillar of her faithfulness in shambles. If only she had been able to summon the strength to prevent it. Then again, she thought, Did I even really have a say at all? HE fucked ME, and not the other way around. I was just trying to sleep. Ryujin’s mind rationalized the event for nearly an hour in the steamy bathroom, and she emerged ready to face the day.

She made plans to meet Tae at her clothing store to help him pick out some new outfits for work. They ended up spending the entire day out and about, and she did her best to bury any guilty feelings that arose intermittently. That night, Tae did not make a move to have sex, which quelled her fears that he would somehow be able to notice what Junho had done to her.

******

The next evening, Ryujin began to grow nervous as she would be joining her alluring roommate in bed, and didn’t know what to expect. They had only seen each other briefly in passing since he’d fucked her, and she had done a lot of processing since then without running it by him. She was going to attempt to reestablish some boundaries, but in the back of her mind, knew it was a nearly impossible challenge. When the time came, she kissed Tae goodnight, and entered Junho’s room with determination. He was sitting on the bed, fully naked, looking like a chiseled statue of peak masculinity. She felt a tingle in her pussy and his eyes on her while she walked around to her side and sat next to him, leaving her tiny elastic shorts on.

“So...” She started, not yet knowing which words to select. “We shouldn’t do that again...”

“Do what?” He grinned, brushing some hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“You know...” She could feel herself blushing. The physical contact from him in the space where he so recently had his way with her spawned a spark between her legs.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Junho said playfully. He knew it was a sensitive subject that required careful maneuvering.

“Okay, uhhh. But seriously, that stuff is dangerous. Like... It’s too good...” She admitted shamefully, dropping her chin.

He smiled at her, and tilted her head up with his finger. “Whatever you say.” He cupped her feminine jaw in his large hand, and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. Her pussy gushed.

Ugh, why is he being all weird? Ryujin wasn’t sure what he was up to, but figured he was probably planning something. “We can still like... mess around and stuff. As long as we’re committed to ending all of this when we start paying rent again.” Her eyes dropped to his bare cock, which was slowly inflating to its full size. I can’t believe that fucking thing was inside of me.

Junho pressed his thumb against her lips, and eased it into her mouth. She responded by lightly sucking on it, becoming increasingly turned on by the second.

“Mess around, eh?” He asked calmly.

“Mhmm,” Ryujin nodded cutely in agreement while swirling her tongue around his finger, squeezing her thighs together in anticipation.

Junho gently removed his thumb from her mouth. “That’s okay. You’re right. Best not to push it. We should just go to sleep.”

“But-” She shot a glance at his massive erection, shocked by his sudden denial.

He lightly tapped her cheek with his palm. “Goodnight Ryujin,” he said, grinning, before turning away from her and switching off the light.

The young woman sat there in the dark, bewildered and horny, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She wasn’t going to beg him to touch her, if that was the game he was playing. She did want him to though. Bastard... She accepted the turn of events and lay on her side to go to sleep.

After several minutes, just as she started to drift off, she noticed a rustling behind her. There was movement in her blanket, and suddenly her shorts were ripped all the way down her legs and clean off of her. Before she knew what was happening, she felt Junho’s large frame shove against hers, and his hands squeeze her chest. “Hey!” She thrashed against his hard body, instinctively fighting to get away from his trap. “Are you serious? We just-” Her breath was taken away as he shoved his hard cock straight into her without warning. She was still plenty moist, and her pussy welcomed his intrusion. “Anghhh!” The pleasure center of her brain was abruptly firing on all cylinders as he eased his way to her deepest reaches.

“Shhh... You’re still asleep, remember?” He whispered mischievously.

“Ngh... Oh fuck... Ohmmmy God... You fucking ass... Ooooh!” Ryujin moaned as quietly as she could, remembering that not much time had passed since she’d parted ways with her boyfriend, who was likely still awake in the other room.

“If you weren’t soaking wet for this, maybe I’d reconsider, but I need to give your body what it wants.” Junho’s big cock plunged in and out of her sopping wet hole at a calm, but steady pace, while he groped her covered tits. She gasped as he easily tore the flimsy fabric of her top into two pieces, exposing her jiggling breasts, before continuing to roughly caress her. Here she was once more, fully under his control, and powerless to stop the man’s aggressive assault. All she could do was hold on tight, and savor the delight of cumming on his fat dick over and over again. He made her feel so devilishly good, and she was secretly thrilled that he ignored her original protest.

Junho fucked her long and hard that night, albeit slightly more gently than their first session, knowing that her body was still adapting to him. His sexy roommate’s heart-shaped ass served as the perfect cushion to thrust against, and her soft moans into the pillow were music to his ears. Every time she came he would relish in the feel of her hot little body quivering beneath him while her tight pussy squeezed his cock. He finished in the same fashion as before, painting her exposed skin with his copious load before calling it a night. Ryujin was left panting, swimming in pleasure, and drifting off to a deeply satisfying slumber while drenched in his semen.

The following morning, she was the first to wake, and smirked at the realization that her roommate was still spooning her, fast asleep. She could feel his raging hard-on poking her butt, excited by the notion that they were apparently both still horny. She carefully shifted her body out of his embrace, and rotated him to be on his back. Ryujin threw her hair back, and lowered her face to his stiff erection. It smelled of sex, and she touched it with the tip of her tongue to sample the potent flavor of their combined juices. It was intoxicating, in the best way, and she licked it all over. She longed to straddle him and feel that thick cock sink into her needy pussy, but that would be too forward. She couldn’t allow herself to be the one to initiate sex with him, as that would erase the miniscule amount of innocence she had left. Instead, she took him into her mouth, and began sucking him lovingly.

Junho stirred, lazily opening his eyes to see his beautiful roommate with her lips around his dick. “Hoooohfff... Well good morning, you little slut,” he muttered, placing his hands behind his head. He let himself sink into the comfortable bed as he savored Ryujin’s warm mouth fervently sucking him off.

She popped him out of her mouth, slowly stroking his saliva-coated shaft with one hand. “Be quiet. I just need to take care of this before it gets you into trouble. Who knows what you would try to do to me...” She explained playfully.

“Good point. Unspeakable things, probably,” he flirted back. “Mmmm... Yesss. Right there...” He palmed her head and pushed gently in encouragement. She was bobbing her head enthusiastically while stroking the base of his cock with her soft hand. It felt amazing, and Junho relished in the glorious wake-up call that his friend’s girlfriend was giving him willingly.

“Jeez, don’t you ever run out of stamina?” She asked teasingly, taking a brief moment to catch her breath.

“Never. How else would I claim you for myself?” He chuckled, noting his dried cum on her shoulder.

“You wish,” she answered.

“Why don’t you cut the bullshit and climb on for a ride, sexy?”

“I can’t do that. You know I only have sex with my boyfriend.”

“Ohhh riiight.”

The pair exchanged knowing glances before she took him back into her mouth. Ryujin slurped and stroked his big dick diligently until he unloaded his balls down her throat while flexing his muscular thighs from the overwhelming pleasure. She drank all of his spunk down and sucked every last drop from the tip of his head. “Finally. Now we can get on with our day,” she rolled her eyes and smiled slyly, then got out of bed to collect her clothes. Ryujin scoffed at her ripped up shirt, and threw it at her roommate impishly. “Now I have to get to the bathroom topless, you jerk!”

Junho reached for his crumpled up t-shirt on the floor, and tossed it in her direction.

“Hmmpf!” She voiced defiantly, slipping the oversized garment onto her bare torso. She quietly opened the bedroom door, and peeked into the apartment’s living space to confirm that it was empty. Ryujin tiptoed across the room to the bathroom, and grabbed the cool door handle. Against all odds, she was greeted by Tae’s voice, emerging from his bedroom.

“Morning, babe.” He muttered sleepily, causing Ryujin to freeze in her tracks. “What are you wearing?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh... This? I dunno... Oh yeah. It’s Junho’s shirt,” she stammered, knowing it was too obvious of a fact to lie about. “I... spilled water on mine last night, and didn’t feel like walking all the way to my closet...” She could feel her cheeks turning crimson with guilt, but forced herself to look her boyfriend in the eyes.

“Okay...” Tae replied, clearly suspicious, and not particularly thrilled that his girlfriend was seemingly naked under his friend’s shirt.

Ryujin awkwardly forced a smile, and entered the bathroom hastily. God dammit, Ryujin... The guilt-ridden woman bathed herself, feeling badly that things had gotten so out of hand. Just minutes ago she was lovingly servicing Junho’s big cock with her mouth, and she had initiated it. When did I become such a fucking slut? Why can’t I control myself around that man? She could feel the aftermath of what he had done to her last night, as if he had rearranged her insides. Even now, amidst all of her shame and remorse, a filthy, nagging part of her brain wanted to fuck him again. There wasn’t any space to feel guilty while her mind was occupied fantasizing about her dominant roommate storming in there, shoving her up against the wall, and having his way with her.

******

There were two more Junho nights before Tae’s first day at the new job, and on both occasions, Ryujin was dripping wet before she even entered his bedroom. Her resolve to be good quickly fell apart, and she stripped all of her clothes off and placed them in a neat pile. She told herself that she couldn’t control what he would do, so she might as well not have her wardrobe ripped to shreds. While it did make sense to preserve her clothing, the more glaring reason was to entice the man to make a move, and provide the easiest access. She slipped under the covers and lay in her sleeping position.

“Don’t even think about it.” Facing away from him, she felt like bait, pretending to innocently go to sleep, and knowing that at any minute the big bad predator would be all over her. Her needy pussy leaked generously as she waited with anticipation for him to fill her. She never looked at him during the act, nor directly encouraged him, afraid to cross the line of “questionable consent” that they had established. She knew it was a dicey game to play, but worried that her guilt might reach the point of no return if she was fucking her roommate behind her boyfriend’s back as an outwardly willing participant.

After just a handful of rounds with him, Ryujin was becoming addicted to Junho’s cock. She found herself daydreaming about it constantly: the way it felt when it entered her for the first time each encounter, filling her perfectly; the manly aggression she was subjected to as it pummeled her insides, using her tight welcoming hole to get to the finish line; and the degrading but delicious sensation of being covered in the dominant man’s virile load while she lay there in the most vulnerable position.

When the time finally came and Tae announced that his initial day at work had gone well, Ryujin was relieved, though there was a part of her that didn’t want the agreement to end. Her boyfriend was all set to earn his first paycheck in two weeks, at which point there would no longer be any reason to sleep in Junho’s bed. She thought back to when her roommate had first proposed the arrangement. Mere months ago he shocked her with the wild suggestion, but it felt like ancient history. Her past self wouldn’t have been able to fathom what had become of her, but also was completely oblivious to the mind-bending pleasures that were possible.

She and Junho did not openly discuss the impending end date, but they both kept it in mind while carrying on with their routine. Ryujin continued to strip naked and let him have his way with her for each of their final nights together. Though they did the deed more or less in the same fashion each time, it grew no less exciting, and each of their forbidden encounters became the highlight of their day.

On the last night of the agreement, she resisted the urge to break the routine with some symbolic gesture, but Junho had other plans. After losing track of how many times he’d made her cum, she felt the familiar sensation of his cock swelling inside her to signal his orgasm had arrived. She waited in anticipation for him to pull out, but instead he thrust firmly into her again and held still, tightly clutching her hips to trap her against him.

“Oh fuck! Wh-What are you- OHHHH!” Ryujin moaned in ecstasy as she felt a warm jet of semen splash against her cervix. Her roommate’s wildly throbbing dick shot rope after rope of thick, sticky seed deep within her unprotected pussy. He groaned hoarsely and thrust in and out of her ever so slightly while draining his big balls into her. The feeling of Junho’s huge cock spraying its dangerous, heavy load at her deepest depths was quite possibly the hottest thing she had ever experienced. Already blissfully enjoying the way he dominated her, to have him seal the deal and lay claim over her womb took it to the next level. Her fertile young womb, which she had always taken such immense precautions to guard, was now being flooded with what she could only imagine was billions of very capable sperm.

It was as if Ryujin’s biology kicked into overdrive, and she helplessly quivered against her roommate as her brain was saturated in endorphins. Her pussy eagerly milked the ejaculating cock for all its worth, as she came in unison with him. It was exhilarating to think that her body was doing everything it could to soak up as much of his seed as possible, with an utter disregard for any consequences. Junho pumped jet after jet of his thick spunk for what felt like an impossible length of time. There was simply no space left in her stuffed cunt, and she felt the creamy substance overflowing and dribbling down her thighs.

“Unnnghhh... Take all of that cum you fucking slut. You’re mine now, do you understand?” Junho grunted, staying firmly planted within her as his big cock spurted the last few drops.

“Oh my God... Fuuuuck...” Ryujin couldn’t think straight, feeling wholly dominated and satisfied in the moment. “Yesss... Ngghhh... I’m your... Slut... Ohhh fuck... So much... Fucking... Cum. Give me it all...”

Junho finally broke the seal, pulling out of her and releasing the extraordinary pressure that had been built up inside of her. His gooey, pearlescent semen flowed out of her gaping pussy like lava. It was a shame for so much of it to go to waste, he thought, but was confident that it was only the first of many loads he would put inside of her. If he had learned anything about his roommate, it was that she was not going to be able to resist him for long, agreement or not. He moved to his spot but watched her delicate form intently. He felt nearly ready at that moment to confess that his feelings for her had blossomed into something more than just sexual desire. It would be better to wait though. He would give her a chance to realize herself that she wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were.

Ryujin collapsed onto the soiled sheets and basked in the post-orgasm glow, her upper back rising and falling as she caught her breath. As she drifted back down to reality, she recognized that she should be more concerned with the fact that Junho had finished inside of her, and that the massive pool of cum was still oozing out of her. She convinced herself that it was a problem to worry about tomorrow, and that tonight was for dwelling on pleasure only.

#ryujin smut #itzy smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago

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Hashira reader smacking Zenitsu and sending him to her crush Iguro to teach him a lesson

original idea and inspiration by none other than queen @sitarawrites and this post right here

Pairing: Obanai x fem!hashira! reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Warnings: Zenitsu being a creep and getting payback for it

„Please, you have to give me a chance!“

„Zenitsu, I think that’s enough-„

„You have to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen! Let’s marry as long as we’re still alive!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, you creep?”

“I’m so so sorry for his behavior-“

“What’s going on here?”, you interrupt the little chit chat in front of you sharply.

You sign to yourself. Just like you expected, another wave of losers that just arrived. 2 girls, a few of those basic guys and…

You furrow your eyebrows, a wave of nauseous disgust getting a hold of you the second you see him. That blonde haired guy who looks at you as if you’re a piece of meat.

“Oh, who are-“

Without even allowing him so finish his sentence, you grab his blonde hair with one hand while smacking him flat-palmed with the other.

“Just let me make a few things clear before we’re even starting”, you hiss, mindlessly dropping his crying figure to the ground.

“If you didn’t catch it already, I’m a hashira and you are here to train under me. But I’m not like Mitsuri or my former master Himejima-sama. We won’t pray around here, we won’t laugh. But most important of all, don’t you dare to piss me off by disregarding me in some sort of way. Got it, Blondie?”

“I think he understood, (y/n)-san!”, the red-haired boy next to him shouts immediately while throwing his unconscious body over his shoulder.

“I know you’re still listening. If I catch you hitting on a corps member like that one more time, I’ll burry you under rocks before sending you over to Igoro-san”, you bark at the boy who again, screams out in sheer fright.

Apparently, his horrible behavior towards females isn’t the only annoying thing about that guy named Zenitsu. If it wasn’t for Kamado, he’d hide inside his room the whole day while crying his eyes out.

“I promise he acts different when he’s unconscious!”

“Do I have to slap him again, then?”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

Urgh. If it wasn’t for that crow sent by Ubayishiki-sama himself, you would have drowned that boy in the river nearby immediately. And that nice little interactions with a certain someone.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, send him my way. I’ll make sure he’ll never cry again.”

“Nice try Iguro-san. But Ubayishiki-sama forbid me to hurt him and I’m sure the same goes for you, unfortunately.”

“Is he still looking at you all the time? Then it might be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t. But if I catch him crying around like a baby one last time, I’ll send him to you personally.”

“I’ll take that as a promise, then.”

You smile to yourself while reading those well-written lines. Igoru-san…truth is, you definitely kept an eye open for him these past months. Out of all the hashira, he’s the only one you’re really keen to talk to.

“Ahhh, it’s so cold!”

“Zentisu, calm down. Don’t you remember what (y/n)-san told you about-“

“I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! THIS IS LIVING HELL! THAT WOMAN IS THE DEVIL HERSELF! I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE TANJIRO!”

“Please calm down-“

“I’M SURE THE GIRLS AT THE BUTTERFLY ESTATE MISS ME, I’LL JUST RETURN TO AOI AND THE GIRLS-“

“You’re not going anywhere, you fool. I’m having enough of your bullshit”, you interrupt his pity party along with a harsh bow into his stomach that surely makes him see stars.

“I’m sending you to Iguro myself.”

Another well-placed hit, a passed out Zenitsu before you even get the chance to hit him.

“Please, allow me to go with you, (y/n)-san. I don’t think Zenitsu will survive the training of the serpent hashira on his own”, a gently voice speaks out next to you.

Urgh. You hate to even consider Tanjiro’s words. But there’s nothing you’re able to teach him anyway. No matter how much you hate to admit it, but that Kamado boy definitely is something special.

“Fine”, you grumble.

“But only because I want to get rid of you.”

“That’s totally fine! Thank you for teaching me hand to hand combat anyway!”

“Yeah, whatever. Just carry that prick and follow me.”

Your heart beats a little faster with every step you come nearer to the serpent hashira’s estate. How is he doing? Is he excited to see you, what will he say? You haven’t seen each other since the last hashira meeting, didn’t have the chance to speak properly since forever as it seems.

But now is your chance. When it means seeing Iguro-san, that douchebag did have a purpose after all.

“Did you take out the trash, (y/n)?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. You didn’t even sense him until he stands in front of you, both eyes set on you with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I can’t take that whining baby anymore. Make sure to treat him right”, you explain briefly.

“Oh, and I took Kamado with me.”

“Tanjiro Kamado”, Iguro-san hisses, his eyes shooting pure venom Tanjiro’s way.

“Bring that useless boy inside and get some rest yourself, Kamado”, you instruct the boy next to you who springs into action immediately.

“He’s doing pretty well”, you mumble more to yourself than actually talking to Iguro-san.

“Doing pretty well?”

Faster than you’re able to react, you find yourself breathlessly pinned against a nearby tree with his eyes almost piercing trough you.

“I mean…yeah”, you breathe out.

“But I actually came here because I missed you”, you add with unusual low voice.

Is that blush creeping up your cheeks? The serpent hashira almost doesn’t believe his ears. You, missing him? He never thought you’d actually like him, that feelings like missing someone like him could actually exist. But you hold his gaze with reddened cheeks. And you’re here, between his arms.

“I…”

He kind find the words. In fact, it seems like his mind and body aren’t able to function normally anymore.

“I need to go”, he presses out.

“But Iguro-san, I-“

He’s gone as fast as he came, leaving yourself leaning against the tree like an idiot.

What was that?

-bonus-

“I’ll let you suffer for making (y/n) uncomfortable. Did you flirt with her?”

“W-what? Me? I’d never d-do that!”

“I’ll kill you-“

“Please don’t kill him Iguro-san!”

“I’ll kill you as well. You made eyes at (y/n)-san.”

“We’re so screwed”, Zenitsu hisses through gritted teeth.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

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katszumi · 7 months ago

Text

silence immersed the room as the door clicked shut behind you. the ticking clock a reminder of how little time you have.

“you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you spewed to the male in front of you, your features displaying a look of anger.

katsuki rolled his eyes. “well, it’s not like i get called a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. what else did you honestly expect?” he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat atop of the long metal table.

“not much, yet you still seem to subceed my expectations.”

“subceed? seriously?” katsuki paused to let a scoff escape his lips. “you’re upset because i’m actually selling this story? the only one, might i add. this was your shitty grand idea!”

unknowingly, you took a step forward.

“the idea was to make it known we disliked each other. not for you to publicly shame and insult me!”

you, katsuki and a few other heroes were invited to attend a press conference. while the original topic was to discuss about the mission you all completed the day before, the topic began to stray away and focus on the relationship between you and katsuki.

japan knows of the hatred you and katsuki shared between each other, that was no unknown fact. the media described you two as fiery rivals considering both of your quirks contained fuel.

you two despised each other. or at least that’s the lie you fooled everyone with.

you were unsure when katsuki started to look appealing to the eye, how attractive he was when he was drowned in sweat, how you began to long for the small but noticeable glances he sent you in public. you couldn’t tell when it happened. but before you knew it, a small pool of desire that had katsuki’s name printed on it began to fill every minute of the day.

“which is no different than what we used to do. you want them to believe it? then don’t take my shit. suck it up and be a bigger asshole than i already am.” he was right. you know he was right. but it was so difficult to pretend as if you hated him.

even if you called him a bitch, or a cunt, maybe even call him out for having a small dick—which you know is far from the truth—that still wouldn’t deny the peace you felt whenever you were with katsuki. how the world seemed to stop still on its axis. how there were no rain, wind or time. just pure bliss.

fuck.

out of everyone, it just had to be him? his captivating, intense ruby irises. his brash, abrasive demeanor. only his words that could seem to sway you. the man the world deemed you to abhor.

instead of admitting the truth, you twist his words. “well, i’m pleased to know it’s so easy for you to do.”

“jesus fuck, y/n.” now, katsuki rose from his position, never once breaking eye contact with you. “you think this is easy for me? you think i like getting up there and lying through my teeth? doing this is the one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.”

he walks closer and even closer to you, minimizing the distance you established for good reasons. this is how it always happens; one of you forgets about the space you two have to maintain until words don’t seem to work anymore. instead, your lips weave together, forming a new way to communicate.

but you don’t move. you don’t want to.

“is it? all those insults feels like it comes pretty smooth to you.”

katsuki pauses as he takes a second to analyze you. his eyes scan your body then leading right up to your face.

“because those are the words i wish i could mean. every time, it burns me to say those things about you when i’d rather be up there claiming every single part about you.” he lowered to a whisper, but his voice maintained a fervent tone.

his hand raises, slow and steady. he cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek. instinctively, you lean into his palm, your eyes softening as you gaze into his eyes.

“you think i enjoy this?” you watch his jaw tighten, his hand dropping to your hip. “think i like watching you talk with those eager men? it takes everything in me to not beat them shitless for daring to come across you. do you know how hard it is to fight the urge to pull you in and show them that you’re not available?”

too captivated by his words, you didn’t notice how katsuki lowered his head. you could feel the heat of his body from how he gave you no room to breathe. he placed his lips on your soft skin, slowly kissing the side of your neck.

no. resist him. your mind was screaming. this couldn’t go on forever. at some point, you guys had to stop.

“what will make them back off? if i mark you up? think they’ll understand then?” he proposed the question, but to you, it seemed more like he was asking for permission.

you didn’t know what effect katsuki placed on you to have you like this. but in this moment, you didn’t care about the rumors, the consequences, your image. it was all pushed back in the back of your head. so, you slightly tilted your head upwards, giving him more leeway to continue.

katsuki gripped your hips. not too strong to leave a mark but strong enough to squeeze a small moan out of you.

“don’t you fuckin’ understand, y/n?” he leans away to look in your eye.

“what?” you meekly responded.

“i go insane when it comes to you. i’m not the kind of guy that drools over any woman’s attention. but, you… fuck.” he stops himself, from what you can only assume was to control himself with whatever he was about to say. “not being able to have you only makes me crave you more.”

you stay quiet.

“you know how many times i’ve tried to resist you?”

“how many?” finally, you spoke.

“too many fuckin’ times. i’m done fighting it, y/n.”

confusion struck your face. “what do you mean?”

“be mine. forget the press, forget our pr managers. be with me.” katsuki brings you closer with the hand placed on your hip, the action drawing you to one conclusion.

he leans in and interlocks his lips with yours. immediately, you drown in the feeling of his soft but chapped lips that you couldn’t seem to push away. somehow, you find the strength to pull back from him.

“not here. not in pub-”

“yes here.”

with his tone, you could mistake him to be aggressive in this moment. but over the months, you managed to be able to read his eyes from the forbidden glances he’s sent your way; how he really felt through the way he wore his eyes.

katsuki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his soft ruby eyes shifted from your lips to your e/c irises.

there was a look behind his eyes. there were more watchful, more tender than usual. almost as if he was pleading with his eyes. like he was begging.

so, how could you say no to him in this state? him being so vulnerable with you?

but that was always the problem.

you could never say no to katsuki bakugou, no matter what.

your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him in with your eyes. he inclined his head and laid his lips on your mouth. the silence that did wrap the room ten minutes ago was replaced with the noise of sloppy kisses, your mouths powering over each other.

you can feel your heart rate increase from the action, even more noticeably so when he entangles a fist in the back of your shirt. he needs you closer, maybe within his skin if possible.

following his action, you guide your fingers through his ash blonde strands, sending a shiver down his spine. he nibbles on the bottom of your lip, pulling it just slightly.

“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” your murmur, yet his ears catches it. “this would be the hottest topic for the media.”

a snicker parted his lips. “we just can’t be caught. but the day you stop being scared, i’m ready.” his words vague and simple, yet still holding so much promise.

“i hate you.”

and you did. you hated that he was too enticing. too irresistible.

“thought it was hard for you to say things you don’t mean?” he referred from earlier. of course, that was just like him. the same him you mistakenly fell for.

“just shut up.” was all you replied with before leaning back in to connect his lips with yours, choosing to help him with your statement.

this was supposed to be like a forbidden love trope but i think i just revealed how thirsty i am😔

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byexbyez · 4 months ago

Text

love me more | leon kennedy x f!reader

pairing: re4r!leon kennedy x f!reader

summary:

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

You hate that word. You hate that word with your whole being. Back then, it meant something entirely different when he said it. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient. Convenient is why you married him. Convenient is why you are here now.

word count: 19k

warnings: 18+ towards the end, angst, yearning, marriage of convenience but there isn't a tangible convenience, strangers to spouses dynamic, grief/mourning, depictions of depression and low self-esteem, also trauma and anxiety, family issues, kinda touch-starved leon if you squint, domestic fluff if you try hard enough, non-linear and vague timeline, mentions of canon typical violence, alcohol and cigarette consumption, p in v smut, brief alternation of POVs, ada wong mention, suicidal thoughts, minor original character, minor character death, spoilers to the hunchback of notre dame, no use of y/n

notes: meant to post this on tumblr after i was done with it but that never happened so here, have it. took me 16 months to post it here lmao. english is not my first language. you have been warned. also beware of a whole lot of mitski and hozier references. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

Me and my husband We're doing better

—Me and My Husband, Mitski

It’s quiet. It has always been that way from the start. Your husband is late, which is not unusual. You sit in the somber light coming from your living room TV. You don’t like the overhead lights, which explains the abundance of lamps around the living room and bedroom in your home. Your husband found it strange that you never turned on the actual lights but it didn’t take him long to realize that you were right. Any kind of overhead light was annoying to him now. He blamed you for his headaches at work.

No matter how many times you told him that he could turn on the overhead lights he insisted that he did not like them anymore. “I like it like this,” he had said. “You’re right, it’s cozier this way.” His head was on your knee, his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. You wanted to brush his hair away from his face and maybe scratch a bit as if he was a cat. But you didn’t, you had no idea what he would react like to such an intimate gesture. You turned your gaze away from his peaceful sleeping face to the TV you had been watching on low volume before he stepped through your home’s front door.

It was a fucking joke, really. Thinking twice, three times about touching the man that you call your husband.

You hear his keys jumble from the door. He didn’t tell you what time he would be home, so you didn’t prepare anything for dinner. It’s late anyways. You consider closing your eyes and resting your head on the back of the couch but it hasn’t been long since he told you he could tell when you were not sleeping. You thought about the number of times you pretended and he could tell. Embarrassing. Now that your secret was out, you had to greet him awkwardly.

He calls your name. “Are you asleep?” His voice very faint.

“No,” you answer while untucking your legs from under your butt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He places the keys on the keyholder. “No lights?”

You reach to your side and turn on one lamp. “I didn’t realize the sun had set.”

“It’s past eleven.” Now that the lamp was on you could see his worried eyes. His five o’clock shadow prominent. “Did you eat anything?” he asks. You can’t tell if he hopes you did or not.

The moment you see the plastic bag in his hand, you shake your head no. Honestly, you were hungry because it had been hours since you ate a bowl of cereal as dinner.

He steps over your legs instead of pushing the coffee table away to make room for himself and plops next to you on the couch. “Brought Chinese,” he says and places the food bag on your lap instead of the coffee table. “You like their fried dumplings.”

You aren’t surprised that he remembers it. He was nice like that, maybe he thinks this is the least he can do. Soon after the wedding, he realized you did not enjoy cooking. It has never been a problem, he knew his way around the kitchen and knew of really good takeout places.

“Thank you,” you say softly while leaning on the table to place the noodles and the dumplings. “Leon, did you drink?” you ask when you catch a whiff of him.

“Yeah, I’m a little tipsy.”

That explains his lax attitude. He has his arm around you across the back of the couch, he’s sitting close to you. It’s because he wants to eat, you say to yourself. And he’s a little tipsy.

“Did you have fun?” you ask when you separate your chopsticks.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he says, watching you separate his chopsticks for him. “I had a drink by myself.”

“Only one?” you chuckle.

“One or two,” He cocks his head to your direction and grabs the chopsticks from your fingers. His fingertips are warm.

Unlike you, his body always runs hot. You remember the comment he made when he held your hand and cupped one cheek, kissing you after you two had said “I do”. His breath was hot on the lower part of your face. You somehow felt him everywhere and nowhere at once. “It’s really hot, why are your hands cold?” he had whispered. It was unusually hot on the day you eloped. Leon had to dab his sweat away so often.

“I’m just nervous,” you had whispered back. The hand that he was not holding was trembling, surely, he could tell.

“No need to be.” That was what he said right before your first kiss. It was more of a short peck because he was a gentleman who didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

It was easier for him to say, he didn’t have anything to be nervous about. He looked really beautiful that day and it didn’t help your nerves one bit. You felt like you were committing a crime while signing your documents that sealed the fact that you were now married to Leon Kennedy. You wonder if he felt the same, knowing this marriage was not a real one.

You didn’t lie to anyone really, so why did it feel like you did? You never told anyone you were in love. You never told anyone this was legit. You just told your sister you were married and that Leon was a good man. She had shrieked over the phone, demanded that you quit joking. The moment she was convinced that you were not, she expected pictures of him. The only picture you had of him was from the day you eloped. He had taken your cold hand and placed it on his arm. His other hand on his stomach so he didn’t look awkward. You had raised your small bouquet of baby’s breath to your torso as well. You did not look as nervous as you thought when the photo came in the mail but Leon looked more handsome than you remembered. You emailed it to your sister.

It didn’t take long for her to respond. How the hell did you bag that man??? Do you have blackmail material against him?

We met at work, you replied shortly.

I thought you worked with dudes that are old as fuck.

We don’t work together. Met through a coworker.

Maybe I should change careers. I mean how hard can it be to train as a government agent???

You looked at the multiple question marks she sent after that. I’m telling your husband.

I showed him the picture and he agrees that he’s hot lol. He also would like to have you guys over.

So you both can ask him what he sees in me?

Hey, I’m only joking. We would really like you guys to come over. I want to meet my brother-in-law.

I’ll tell him but he’s very busy.

Sooo what does he do?

Like I said, he’s an agent. Mostly confidential work.

So you can’t tell me?

I really can’t.

You know what? It’s annoying that you can’t tell me what he does but I can understand. What I can’t understand is you getting married. Out of the blue. Without telling me.

That email left a bitter taste in your mouth. She could tell that it was not real. She knew that you were not easy to love. She knew it was impossible for you to get married. That’s why you stalled her invitation for nearly two years. You hadn’t even asked Leon because you did not know how he would react. He knew you had a sister across the country and that she was older than you but never asked about her for a while. You weren’t offended at his uninterest in your life. He didn’t have any reason to be interested in you.

He did say he was an orphan, that one time.

It all made sense after that, he didn’t like to talk about families. Maybe because he wasn’t used to belong. To belong to a family. Belong to someone. Think about them because he belongs to them and they belong to him.

All things considered, you thought Leon turned out more than okay. Closed off but very kind, gentle, understanding.

He leans forward and helps you split one dumpling into two with his chopsticks. His shoulder bumps yours and stays there because he refuses to let go of the back of the couch behind you. When you pull your sleeve over your fingers, he quickly eats one whole dumpling, leaving you with the smaller one that he helped you split and covers your hand with his.

“You cold?” He looks silly when he stuffs his face full of food.

“No.”

“Your hands are cold.” He doesn’t’ say like always but it’s there in his voice.

He doesn’t mind touching you when he’s in a good mood, mostly when he’s a little intoxicated like this. Usually, he’s not a touchy person. You’re glad he’s not, it reminds you that you definitely like him more than he likes you. He needs the little nudge of alcohol to let go of his inhibitions. He didn’t touch you until you gave him the green light on your birthday. He didn’t know what to get you as a gift so he got you yellow roses and the blandest birthday card known to man.

Happy Birthday, from Leon.

“It isn’t anything special, I know.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

But it was special, it was from him; with his emotionally constipated, probably unintended curt message. You knew deep down he had a big heart. He cared enough to stop on his way to get you these. You didn’t think much, because there were times when you didn’t need to think about this, you just reached and hugged him around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. “They smell really nice. We need to get a vase for them.”

He finally put his arms around you and you felt the stiffness of his shoulders on top of yours. It was six months into your married life.

Yellow roses. He saw you as a friend. You were okay with it, as long as it meant he was not pushing you away. You were not terrible by any means. Boring and awkward, definitely. But you made it clear to him that he could talk to you about what he wanted when he wanted. He was adamant that it went both ways. However, you genuinely don’t think anything going in your life is worth talking about. Hence, he’s the one who ends up talking most of the time.

He rubs your fingers to bring them warmth. The air of the living room feels awfully similar to that one time he surprised you and laid his head on your lap. That one time you wanted to play with his hair but didn’t. It was just like this. Quiet despite the TV’s low volume, comfortable as the light coming from the lamps was soft on the eyes, smelling of alcohol as he was a little drunk. Unsure as your hands were cold and was this what being friends meant?

Sometimes he craved the quiet. He worked and worked and worked. Voices everywhere. Danger constant. His only quiet was home, you suppose.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

“I ate cereal,” you answer him.

“Has no nutritional value whatsoever,” he mutters.

“Yeah, it’s just me being lazy.”

“I don’t think we have anything in the fridge, I don’t blame you.”

You both finish your food in silence, you pretend to watch the screen in front of you the whole time. You hug your knees to your chest when you’re done and he looks like he can fall asleep any minute.

“How was your day?” you ask to keep him awake. You don’t want him to sleep here and have his back and neck all sore tomorrow.

He rests his chin on his shoulder and gives you a funny look through his long lashes. “Same as always.”

You admit to yourself that you love him like this. He seems free, happy even.

You decide to be bold and tap your shoulder for him to lay his head on.

He doesn’t seem to be thinking twice as he takes your offer and nuzzles his head on your shoulder. He’s taller and bigger than you, you suppose the position he’s in right now is not comfortable for him. He reaches back around the couch and the other hand crosses his abdomen, gripping your ankle that he is closest to. His thumb draws circles there and your brain short circuits. “How was yours?”

“My day? Nothing exciting. All paperwork.”

He hums as he squeezes your ankle, his hair tickling your nose and lips.

“You really need a shower, Leon.” You make up the courage to smooth down his blonde hair that is sticking up in every direction.

He hums again. “Are you telling me I stink?”

“Yes, mister.”

“I’m tired,” he groans but doesn’t seem tired enough as he pushes his head and messes up your balance on the couch. You have to hold on to the arm rest as he keeps nudging you with his head.

“You’ll feel gross in the morning if you don’t have a shower.”

“You have a point,” he says but does nothing to get up. Maybe it was a bad idea to offer him your shoulder and unknowingly, your ankle. He’s never acted like a kid like this before.

You get up and turn off the TV before you offer him both of your hands. “You’re not tipsy, you’re drunk. Now get up and wash yourself please.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes, you are. You headbutted me.”

He takes your hands and finally gets up. “I think I ran out of shampoo.”

“You can use mine. Brush your teeth while I go get it.” You pat his back.

There’s two bedrooms in the house, one is for guests but you’ve never had guests over since you’ve both moved into this apartment. Leon uses the “guest” room downstairs. He insisted that you take the bigger room. He’s more like a roommate than a spouse.

He’s shirtless in front of the sink, brushing his teeth like you told him to when you knock on his bathroom door and hand him your shampoo. He reads the fragrance and opens its cap to smell it.

“Well, you smell nice so I can’t complain,” he says, toothbrush still in his mouth, dribbling toothpaste everywhere.

You love him in moments like these. This is the moment the wife reaches and kisses the husband. Well, maybe after he’s done dribbling everywhere but you know how this moment should go about. He won’t be like this in the morning. You know very well that he is going to be sober and back to normal Leon. He won’t say anything about his drunk self because he knows you won’t as well.

“Don’t fall in the shower!” you shout as you go upstairs to your room.

“I’m not that drunk!”

The next morning, he sees you making coffee in the kitchen. It hasn’t been long since your schedule got aligned with his. He wonders how the hell you managed to adjust your sleeping hours to the point now you could wake up before him. He used to wake up before you because you often had late shifts.

“Morning,” he says as he smells the delicious coffee that you’re pouring into two mugs. He yawns, scratching an itch on his arm. He did not use to have a coffee machine back when he was living alone. You had brought it with you to this house and saved him from Starbucks’ morning rush hour.

You slide one of the mugs in front of him and give him a warm smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

He blows on the coffee before he takes a sip. “Much better now.” He clears his throat, his morning voice gruff. “I was thinking… We should commute together.”

“To work?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Where else?” he snorts. “What’s surprising? Why pay more for gas when we start work at the same time?”

“Wouldn’t that be…”

“It wouldn’t interfere with anything if you think about it. It’s stupid to take both cars to the same place.”

“I might work overtime,” you say and hug yourself.

He nods into his mug and seems like he wants to say more. “Then you can take your car. You’ve just started normal hours. Why are you eager to tire yourself out so quickly?”

So that we don’t have to be awkward around each other.

“C’mon, it’ll be convenient.”

It is what you repeat to yourself over and over again. It was convenient to have slept with him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. You were lonely. You reckon he had to be, too. Because why else would he want to have sex with you? He did not love you or anything. You could only think of one thing when his face was buried in your neck. You still had his yellow roses. You had preserved them between your book pages.

As he was panting above you, hands grasping your hips with vigor, your thighs caging him in and burning, you felt like a rose stuck between thousands of words never read aloud. Yellow all over, sticking out like a sore thumb between words printed in the smallest font size possible, suffocating. Once belonged with other flowers but now settled down in a place where people thought you’d look pretty.

You hate the color yellow as much as you hate the word convenient. If not, more.

He sees you wince. He cannot guess the reason behind it is his choice of words. “What do you say?”

He is offering, you think. He still likes you enough to ask.

“Okay.”

“Good, we need to get groceries on the way back.”

People don’t whisper much now that it’s been nearly two years since you two announced to your close work circle that you were married. There were a lot of surprised faces at first, thinking maybe Leon was joking or something. People didn’t know you very well. You were only close with Cathy.

“Perhaps we should wear rings,” said Leon once over dinner. “People don’t believe we’re married.”

“Is that a problem? What others think, I mean?”

He stared at your face while chewing, you couldn’t make out what he was thinking thanks to the dim light emanating from one of the lamps. “They think it’s a joke. Is it so bad that I want to be taken seriously for once? You wanted a wedding dress, I want a ring.”

“When do you want to get them?”

That led to you choosing matching rings with Leon. Simple gold bands. You make sure to wear them to work every day because if you don’t, you worry people will start to whisper again.

First it was, Leon’s not the type to get married, he’s taking the piss out of us, is it April fools today?

Then it turned into: Oh God, he’s serious, he says he got married last weekend.

Eloped? To whom?

He said her name but I don’t remember it, said she’s in archives now.

He’s married to an archivist? How on earth did they meet?

Probably in Donovan’s funeral, saw Hunnigan introducing them.

That wasn’t long ago!

I know, right?

You know some of them thought you had a one-night stand and got pregnant from him. The rumors subsided when that didn’t turn out to be true.

However, people were curious about why Ingrid Hunnigan would introduce an archivist to an agent. It didn’t take long for your name to become known because you had recently switched departments. You had been a systems analyst like Hunnigan, working with late Cathy Donovan. You’d switched to archives after her funeral.

People greeted you when they saw you. Leon’s wife, right?

Yes, but not really.

The first time Leon ever saw you was during agent Donovan’s funeral. He’d gotten back from Spain just a week ago. He did not know agent Donovan well but her name echoed in every corner. She was good at her job. Most of the time, nobody had an idea what she was up to.

“Leon, I want you to meet Cathy’s partner,” said Hunnigan, holding the shoulder of the woman standing next to her.

You stuck your hand out for him to shake and told him your name. It sounded disconsolate coming from your mouth, your own name. Your eyes were dazed, you kept your mouth in a thin line. You didn’t even look at him properly as if this was the hundredth occurrence today, Hunnigan introducing you to someone.

“I’ve heard a lot of great things about agent Donovan.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Right, she was great,” you said, your eyes straying elsewhere. It looked like Hunnigan’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from crumbling down. You looked so small with your shoulders hunched forward. He cringed when he saw you rip out the flesh of the side of your thumb.

Hunnigan went on about Cathy Donovan’s accomplishments to him. You continued to pick at your thumb, him watching your side profile as you kept averting your gaze from people around you. You seemed to be dissociating hard.

“These two were inseparable. I tried asking Cathy to work with me on a small mission once and she praised her so much in turn, I had to suck it up and meet this woman myself as soon as possible,” said Hunnigan heatedly. “I’m such a big fan of Cathy’s, you see, I couldn’t be upset. I love seeing her work with the best.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you managed to say, a beat too late. “I need to use the restroom, be right back.”

Leon knew too well that losing someone was difficult, yet he couldn’t imagine what you were going through. He furrowed his brows the moment his hand made contact with your upper arm. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that, he didn’t want to seem like he took pity on you.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You made the effort to look him in the eye when it was obvious as day that you were having a hard time keeping your head up.

Your voice barely came out, “Thank you.”

Of course, you did not recognize him the second time he saw you. It was his late celebratory dinner for his mission in Spain. His coworkers had planned a small one, saying he deserved it. Once he was done with his food, he excused himself saying he wanted to get fresh air.

Not too far from the restaurant, you were sitting on a bench alone.

“Those things will kill you, y’know,” he said, eyes pointing to the cigarette you were smoking.

His unexpected voice caused you to jump in your seat. You quickly put the cigarette out by stomping it with your shoe. “I don’t usually… smoke.”

He dragged his feet while walking to sit down on the opposite end of the bench. “You didn’t have to put it out.” Though he thought you were very considerate by doing so.

“Congratulations, for the mission.”

“Thank you— name’s Leon, by the way.”

You stuck your chin out to the direction of the restaurant, “Or so I heard in there.”

“We actually met before. At the funeral.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember half the people I met there.”

“No need to be sorry. You seemed out of it.”

“Yeah, we worked together for a long time, Cathy and I.”

“Look, I know it’s hard and anything I say probably won’t make any difference—”

“You don’t need to—” Your voice quite literally got stuck on your throat, you composed yourself by bringing the side of your fist to your mouth and coughed into it. “I’m trying to get better. I’m here today, which is a miracle in of itself. I know people think it’s probably good to talk about her but I’m just not in the mood, okay? Thank you for your understanding but I don’t need to be reminded, it happened not so long ago.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, I know you mean well.” You started to sway your feet on the gravel. It was completely understandable for you to lash out but you seemed uneasy as soon as it was out of you. “Sorry, this is your happy day. I shouldn’t—”

“You realize how many times we said sorry to each other in this past minute?” he laughed. “Also, I lost a partner in Spain. I’m not that happy today.”

Your voice turning faint, seemingly regretting your flash of anger a moment ago, “You probably feel like you shouldn’t be happy.”

He nodded. “He helped me a lot but didn’t make it.” He saw your mouth open and stopped you there. “Don’t say you’re sorry. It loses its meaning when you say it too much.”

“Even if I mean it with my whole heart every time?”

“That means you’re sorry for a lot of things. It’s not healthy to carry that much weight on your shoulders.”

“Right, I’ll be like Quasimodo.” You hunched your shoulders even more forward. “Like the hunchback.”

“From the Disney movie?”

You giggled at his childishness. “Yeah, I heard there’s also a book about it.”

He looked at your squinted eyes and thought you deserved to be happy more.

As you two carried on your now meaningless conversation, he did not know that you were certain on resigning from your job and never turning back to it. You’d started to work on the archives that week, partly because your boss had foreseen you contemplating quitting all together and did not want to lose a highly valuable member such as yourself and partly because you had requested it.

At that point, you were absolutely aware of the fact that they feared you’d never turn back to your former position. And because Cathy didn’t have any plans of ever becoming alive, you also didn’t have any plans on returning. But you knew the reason behind them doing anything you asked was them giving you time to grieve. After that, the pressure would build even more and hopefully make you take your old place.

“It was Hunnigan’s idea,” you said to Leon after he asked you very kindly why you were here tonight. “Basically dragged me here. She thinks I should be around people more.”

“She’s right. I’m glad you came.”

Leon was cute, alright. That didn’t do him justice, actually. It was evident under the street light where the bench was that he worked out regularly. Biceps giving a hard time to his sleeves every time he moved, veins protruding on his forearms, his thighs looking like they’d help him carry ten people on his large back. And oh, his broader-than-the-horizon shoulders. An absolute unit of a man with cheekbones and jawline honed like a Greek statue. With his dark blonde hair falling on his face in that charming way and his oh so kind blue eyes, you knew he was out of your league.

His gentle aura making him seem like a Prince Charming or a white knight or whatever the fuck those Disney movies had.

You planned on never seeing anyone from work again, you had nothing to lose. And Cathy so would say to shoot your shot.

“I’m thinkin’ of getting a few drinks in me, want to tag along?”

“What do you have in mind?” He seemed interested, a good sign.

“You got any suggestions? And don’t say beer because I plan on getting wasted beyond recognition in like an hour.”

“Yeah, be careful. And don’t drink and drive.” The way he took a U-turn on his interest irritated you. You really thought he wouldn’t say no, you were getting along well, flirting even. “Did you come here with your car?”

“Yeah.” You tried to not sound upset. “I’m not a teenager. I’ll take a cab. Drinks will be on me.”

“Ah, thanks but I’ll have to refuse. They’ll probably wonder where I went. It’s my dinner, after all.” The polite smile he gave you was so infuriating.

You got up from the bench. He had the audacity to look you up and down after that. “Then please tell Hunnigan I’m sorry I left early, will you?”

“I will.” He fidgeted and crossed his arms. Oh God, you’d made him uncomfortable. It was just minutes ago he was sort of flirting with you. “Don’t drink too much.”

God, why did he have to be so annoying?

The next time you two met was at the closest pharmacist to work, few weeks after his dinner and your failed attempt to get him in your bed.

“One box of aspirin, please.” Your head snapped up at that voice. Unmistakably, Leon. With his broad back facing you, he hadn’t seen you yet.

“What can I get you, miss?”

Leon stepped over to the side when they called to you, still not looking at you.

“Eyedrops, please.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

To that, he did a double-take. You’d looked disheveled to the point of worry. Eyes and nose a few shades redder than the rest of your face, eyebags puffy and makeup smudged. With your now extremely frizzy baby hairs doing anything but their job of framing your face, it was apparent that you’d been crying.

“Yes, it’s just an allergy.”

“Can I get you anything for that?”

“No, thank you. I already have meds for it.”

Leon thanked when they gave him his aspirin and turned to you. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere.” He quickly left the pharmacist.

Surprisingly, you did wait for him outside. Why? You had no idea. Frankly, you were hoping to cry more in your car.

Approximately five minutes later, he came to you jogging lightly. He thrusted a water bottle in your hand. “Where’s your medication?”

“What?”

“For your allergy?”

“Oh, um—” You couldn’t find a lie fast enough, usually you were not bad at lying but the way he appeared to be worrying about your well-being was baffling to say the least. “I don’t have it, I mean—” You pressed the water bottle to your stomach and held on to it for comfort. “I don’t have an allergy.”

It was his turn to be baffled. “Are you alright?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You don’t look like it.” He looked at you and around you as though checking to see any injury. “You should drink up.” He motioned to the bottle and watched you take a gulp.

“Thank you. Oh, you should, too,” You tried to give him the rest of the water while his stare questioned you. “For your aspirin.”

“I already took it. I’m supposed to take it with water?”

“Yes, Leon. Have you been taking them without water this whole time? Then why did you bring me water?”

“I didn’t know that! You looked dehydrated.”

“That’s not good for you. Now I’m worried about your stomach.”

His blue eyes shined like he came to a revelation. “That’s why my stomach burns when I take them?”

How are you this stupid, you suppressed saying, if you had known him well enough at that time, you definitely would. You forgot for a second that you were annoyed at him for rejecting you few weeks ago and find yourself flabbergasted at thinking that he is endearing, in a way.

You made small talk with him about his lunch break and he insisted on walking you to your car.

“Can I help you with anything?” he said sympathetically once you stood in front of your open car door. “You still look…”

Like a truck hit me, you wanted to complete his sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It just happens time to time.” You tried to make yourself presentable by adjusting your blouse and hair.

“It?”

“Sometimes I cry for no reason. It happens randomly, too, I don’t know when and where I’ll be crying most of the time. Like, I’ll be reading something, it doesn’t have to be sad, I mean— I was reading reports before I came here. Sometimes it gets too much, like now.”

“Will you be okay driving?”

“Yeah! Talking with you definitely helped.” His apprehensive gaze pierced through you. You actually felt like crying again, your chest feeling tight, eyes burning. You stood upright with the support of your car door. “I’ll be fine, Leon.”

“I’m choosing to believe you. Drive safe.” He shifted his weight on one of his legs and seemed ready to take off.

“Thank you. See you around?”

“You probably won’t for a while,” he said to the ground, soothing the itch on his calf with his other leg’s shin. He looked up and squinted his eyes against the sun. “I got assigned a mission. I don’t know for how long.”

“Oh, I’ll be at your celebratory dinner then, if I get an invitation.”

“Well, I don’t know how it will go. I’ll only invite you if you won’t talk for the whole dinner but flirt with me outside again.”

“You didn’t need to embarrass me like that,” you chuckled nervously. “I wouldn’t say I’m a push and pull kind of woman.”

“You can show me what kind of woman you are when I get back?”

“Very smooth, Leon.”

He seemed taken aback. “I’ll see you then.” Suddenly, he was distant again. This time you didn’t know what made him uneasy.

“Yeah… Be safe on your mission.”

He just nodded. You got in your car and gripped the steering wheel tightly until the sight of his leather jacket clad back disappeared. You hunched forward, shoved your forehead to the wheel and tried to take a deep breath. The crying spell didn’t go away as the tears burst down first and then the sobs jerked your entire body.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

—Like Real People Do, Hozier

The inside of Leon’s car smells nice, he takes good care of it.

“I’m going to see my sister this weekend,” you say, averting your gaze from the way he steers the wheel with one hand. His other hand is on his knee, tapping away. The effect his toned arms have on you is humiliating.

“I think I can make it.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t have anything that day. I can go with you. It’s your mother’s death anniversary, right? I think it’s time I pay my respects.”

It’s these things he says that leave you puzzled. He’s incredibly thoughtful, no matter who he’s talking to. He very well could have his day off-work for himself, but he asks anyway.

“Do you actually want to meet my sister?”

“I do. I hope to make a good first impression.”

You think about it for a second and end up telling him. “I sent a picture of you to her back when we got married.”

“How’d you get a picture of me?” he asks, appalled. The only picture he has of himself besides the wedding one is on his badge.

“Our wedding picture, dummy. We have one, remember?”

“Oh, right, I forgot.” You can’t complain because you keep it in a dresser drawer in the envelope it came in. He was on duty again when it came and you’d showed it to him once he was home. The left corner of his lips had curled up and for a second, you thought you saw affection in his eyes. “It came out okay? I was sweating buckets, but you—" he’d said and pointed a finger to your face in the photo. “Your hands were ice cold, I nearly asked you to paste your hands to my forehead just so I could cool down.”

“We still have the picture, right?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s in my room. Why?”

“Can I have it?”

“Yeah, they sent two. Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Give it to the mafia or hire a hitman to go after you, what else?” He lets out a hollow laugh. You want to record the sound and have it forever play in your ears. “I want to frame it and put it on my desk. People usually have pictures of their spouses and children or even their dogs on their desks, no?”

Yes, you know. You have pictures with your best friend and sister on your own desk at work.

It’s his way of saying you mean something to him.

You call your sister’s name as soon as you see it. “Why do you have this picture here?”

She’s carrying the empty plates to the sink as you hold on to her fridge’s door handle.

She looks up to see you pointing at your wedding picture. It’s on her fridge. You don’t even display it in your own house.

“You printed it?”

“I did,” she says. “It’s a good picture.” Her house is littered with pictures of her and her husband on different vacations, of you and your mother and her together in some.

“You just met Leon today.”

“And I think he’s great. You’re happy with him. That’s all I could ask for.”

You were happy since he was in a good mood the entire ride coming here. It was long but you two had a smooth ride and he amused you with his corny jokes and stories. You tore small pieces of bagel and fed him when he said he was getting hungry. He was tired from driving the whole time, but of course he didn’t have it any other way and jestingly banned you from getting behind the wheel. He did make a good first impression like he promised, although he kept bobbing his cramped leg. He’s now in the backyard with your brother-in-law, chatting about football, probably.

Your sister gets your attention by giving you a side hug and rubbing your back. “You’re my only sister, of course I’m going to have a picture of your happiest day.”

You hug her back around her waist. She even had photos of your birth in the living room. Your mom in a hospital bed, one day-old baby you cradled in her arms, your father hugging your mother and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes. Did he know then, that he would never be there for you to look at you like that again?

“You remember dad, right?” you ask quietly. She was older and was able to tell stories about him to you. “How was he like? Before he left, I mean.”

“Like I told you, he loved us so much. I don’t know if it was the same case for my mom. She later told me she saw it coming, that he likely had another woman.”

“How did mom know?”

Your sister sighs and rest her head on top of yours. “She said she could just feel it. Said he felt distant. He used to come home late leading up to it, sometimes drunk. One day I woke up and he wasn’t home. Didn’t say anything, just abandoned us like that.”

There’s that sadness again, creeping up to your chest and placing a big rock there. You feel like you’re being crushed by it. Your mom had always been ambitious, had dreams for herself and her family, deserved so much more than what she got.

Leon’s laughing loudly in the backyard, your head whips to see the sight.

“Come on, go mingle with your husband. I got it from here,” says your sister and starts to place the dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’ll go get us some beer,” says your brother-in-law and gets up from his chair. The weather is amazing today, your sister had set up a nice meal outside. Leon was getting along with them well. What more could you ask for?

You find yourself alone with Leon when your brother-in-law goes inside the house. You sit next to him and he promptly puts his arm on the back of your chair.

“How’s your leg?” you ask him.

“My thighs are sore,” he groans. “Good thing we’re not driving back tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t let you anyways.” You put a hand on his knee and start to massage, hoping it will help his aching legs. You’re even bolder than a few days ago. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

“It hurts here,” he says and grabs your hand, placing it higher on his thigh. “You can put more pressure, I can hardly feel it.” His thigh is firm and thank God, your hands manage to stay stable. You ball your hands into fists and start to punch lightly where he wants. The meat of his thighs doesn’t even jiggle, reminding you that he’s mostly made of muscle.

You focus up on his knees. “I’ll drive us to the cemetery tomorrow.”

“I can—”

“No. You’re tired, Leon. I want to drive, don’t make me upset.”

“Would you actually be upset if I—”

“Yes, very.” You pinch his thigh and that makes him press his lips together.

“They’re really nice, you know,” he means your sister and her husband. “I feel like an ass for not meeting them sooner.”

“You like them?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I do.”

“So, any propositions?”

“Huh?”

“Got asked for a threesome yet?” you smirk.

“I’m sorry?” He’s horrified and you find it funny.

“After I sent the wedding picture to them, they both said you were hot. I just remembered it.”

“I’d rather not know that!”

“Relax, Kennedy. I’m just joking. They’re not gonna ask you that.”

He visibly relaxes and puts you in a headlock in a play-fight manner with the arm that was behind you. His nose and mouth pressed up against your hair, he says, “I’ll just tell them I’m a one-lady type of man if they ever do.” You consider biting his arm.

“Can the lovebirds look up here for a second?” chirps your sister. She has come with her camera outside. “It’s the golden hour.”

Leon adjusts his head to look towards the camera and relaxes his hold on you, arm dangling from your shoulder, other hand engulfs yours on his knee, rings clashing.

“Aww,” your sister coos as she takes the photo. “I’ll send this to you.”

She doesn’t suspect a thing, probably because you’re not pretending anymore.

You splash your face with cold water after you’re done brushing your teeth in your sister’s guest room bathroom. Leon’s inside the room, splayed out on the bed, exhausted after today. It won’t be awkward, you say to yourself, hope to God your hands don’t start to tremble from anxiety.

Leon has taken off his t-shirt, bent one of his knees and put his hands behind his head. Not helping your case by looking irresistible. Even the tufts of hair under his arms are endearing to you.

“How are you holding up?” he asks once you sit on the bed next to him, back facing him. He knows you will visit Cathy too when you get back.

“I’m good, Leon.” You take off your ring and place it next to his on the bedside drawer. “Never been better, actually. I missed them.” You twist your upper body to face him. “Here,” you say as you place your newly washed cold damp hands on both sides of his face in attempts to cool him down.

He shivers, his shoulders going up slightly for a quick second. “That’s nice,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. You’re silent, in part because you’re speechless before his beauty, but you also would like to try to give him a little piece of serenity he needs.

“This used to be my mom’s room when she was living here.”

He hums softly and opens his eyes, his hands coming up to hold on to your bare arms, the skin between his eyebrows pinched.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hands finding place on his broad shoulders.

He starts to rub your arms up and down, his hands stopping after a while to trace a strap of your tank top with his fingers. All of your worries about intimate gestures going out the window the moment you let his hands wander.

This is the tender domesticity that you’ve been longing for so badly, you want to thank him.

He scrunches his nose. “I wanted to kiss you, now I think it’ll be inappropriate.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your grip on his shoulders is now stronger, begging not to tremble. He feels lonely, he shouldn’t have come here. You have to swallow hard. “It won’t.”

His hand goes up to cup the back of your neck, he’s staring at your lips like he doesn’t wish for anything else. “C’mere.” He tugs at your hip to get the lower half of your body up on the bed. He drapes you halfway on his torso.

Once you’re situated to his liking and casting a shadow on his face, he brings you down ever so gently to his mouth, massaging your nape. He’s hot all over, his mouth, his breath on your face, his chest, the hand that’s splaying his fingers on the small of your back. With his soft lips moving lazily against yours, you’re quite literally bursting at the seams. The muffled sigh he drags across your mouth tempts you to press your entire body to his harder and sling your leg across his hips.

His kisses turn into open-mouthed ones and he tastes like minty toothpaste and sunlight on golden hour.

A small noise comes out of your throat, hands straying down to his bare chest and he has to cradle your face to stop. “We should sleep.” His Adam’s apple bobs enticingly. “I seriously don’t want to disrespect your mother’s ghost.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he hugs your head and buries it to his chest, his chin resting on top. “You’ll apologize to her tomorrow.”

It’s okay, you think when you feel the low timbre of his chuckle on his chest. We’re okay. We’re doing better.

There's no plan, there's no race to be run The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun There's no plan, there's no kingdom to come I'll be your man if you got love to get done Sit in and watch the sunlight fade Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late There's no plan, there's no hand on the rein

—No Plan, Hozier

The fourth time you saw Leon Kennedy was at a bar. You thought his coworkers were going to be there to see him after his mission but it was just you two.

He had emailed you a day before, saying he asked for your email address from Hunnigan, inviting you for drinks the next day and apologizing for letting you know this late.

“Where’s everyone? Am I early?” you asked, despite noticing the table he was sitting at was for two people.

He looked up and you were taken aback by the sight of him. He looked tired. He had a bit of a stubble and his hair was tousled. “No, you’re right on time,” he said, getting up to pull your chair for you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” you said, ridding yourself from your jacket. You actually put in the effort to look good that day. A nice outfit, a little bit more makeup, hair done.

As you sat down in front of him, a corner of his lips went up, “You look good.”

“The last time we spoke wasn’t my best moment.”

“How have you been?”

You placed your hands on the table and started to play with your fingers, anxious. “Since then? Better, I suppose. How about you? Your mission went well?”

“Depends on how you define well.”

“You’re still in one piece.”

“If only that was enough.” You didn’t get to see his disappointed expression for long when a server came up to your table and Leon quickly ordered a drink, asked what you wanted and waited with his hands together on the table.

Once the server was away, you slightly leaned towards him. “They should be grateful that they got their best agent back alright.” Although you couldn’t ask him any details about his mission, you knew he was a special agent that was good at this job.

“Hunnigan told me you’re in the archives.”

“Yeah, that happened months ago, before your dinner.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“I—uh…” Your throat felt dry under his piercing stare. “I wasn’t needed there anymore. So I transferred.”

“Really? I heard it’s quite the opposite.”

“Oh, they’re talking about me?”

“Yes, seems like they really want you to work with agents again.”

“I know that,” you said and dug your fingernails to the corner of the table, his eyes following the motion.

“What do you mean?” he said, scratching his jaw. “You said you weren’t needed.”

“I felt like I wasn’t being useful. I tried to quit. They tried really hard to keep me there. Now, they’re constantly asking me to come back after everything.”

“They do know how to squeeze the last bit out of everyone,” he nodded. “Are you happy with where you are right now?”

“As in life?” You rolled your eyes thinking about it. “What does it look like?”

“I was worried the last time I saw you.” He sounded sincere.

“I know, I looked miserable.” Probably looked like the physical embodiment of a cry for help, too. “Can we not dwell on it, please? I’m better now. But now you—” You reach and tap on the middle of the table. “You look like you need to sleep for days.”

“That would be great,” he sighed.

You kept looking at the door but no one from work was coming in. “Why is no one coming, Leon?”

“They won’t, to be honest with you. I only invited you.”

Your back was then one with the chair. “Oh.”

“I should’ve let you know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind the quiet,” you smiled. And then you realized, he was doing the same thing you were doing, pushing anyone and anything away.

Him reaching out to you, this was his cry for help. Why you specifically, you didn’t know.

“You told me you lost a partner in Spain, were you close?”

To that, he dropped his chin and stared at his lap. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t know him. We met under strange circumstances and ended up helping each other. I got the impression that he regretted a lot of things but wanted to believe people could change.”

“I believe people can change, for the better or worse,” you mumbled.

Your server came with your drinks. Leon didn’t waste a second and downed nearly half of his drink. “You tried to quit?” he asked.

“I did. I thought it was time for a little stability in my life. This is as far as I can get to it,” you said and took a sip of your drink which was the same one as Leon. It was strong.

“Stability. That’s unlikely in this job,” he scoffed, fingers tapping at his glass.

“Do you see it as impossible, Leon?” You desperately hoped he would say no, you needed to hear from someone that it wasn’t just a pipe dream.

He seemed to be thinking for a slow moment. “I guess, for some people, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“For you it would?” you inquired.

“I once thought I would marry my first girlfriend. I was like what? Twenty, twenty-one? I was really stupid and in love. If twenty-one-year-old Leon saw this, he would be devastated,” he said and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can find someone who would understand what I do. It’s not like I can tell them. They’d be in danger because of me. I can’t ask them to trust me blindly. I wouldn’t want them to.”

“If someone was willing to accept you as you are, do you think..?”

“Who in their right mind would?” he groaned in exasperation.

“I would. But my situation is different, I have an understanding of what you do. I also can’t be in any more danger than I already am.” There was a beat of silence after you said that. The drink was definitely too much for you, you were sure. Your ears were burning hot, one hand coming up to cool one down with your nervous cold fingers, your eyes roamed the whole place. You chugged the remaining of your drink and wiped your mouth.

“Whoa, slow down there,” he bolted and looked at your abashed face as if he was in a contemporary art museum, trying to understand what the artist meant with their absurd piece.

Feeling self-conscious, you fixed your hair and babbled out, “Why did you get into this line of work in the first place?”

His back straightened, shoulders rolling back. “I was… recruited.” You didn’t quite understand how but remained from prodding any further. “I was the best candidate for what they wanted. An orphan who didn’t have anything to lose.”

It really wasn’t going well for you. You wanted to bang your head against the table and avoid looking at him completely but after what he had revealed to you, you couldn’t be any ruder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

If Cathy were to hear about this, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Good job honey, that’s one way to woo a man. She would’ve said it in that sarcastic tone which she infamously was a master of.

“No, it’s fine,” said Leon. “You could do so much better than me, though.”

Have you seen yourself, you wanted to exclaim.

Your nostrils were wide, trying to sober you up by hogging as much oxygen as possible, you tried to remain calm, you were feral however. “Why do you keep putting yourself down, Leon? You know, you could’ve called your friends today and they would’ve come running to you. You’re a great person, they don’t give a damn about how successful your mission was. They’re happy that you’re back, that’s all. They are your friends, not the alcohol.”

He was dead silent, staring at his glass with an expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m sorry for overstepping but I saw how they were trying to look out for you at the dinner. There wasn’t even a glass of wine there, celebration my ass. Everybody can tell you’re not fine. I don’t know you that well but even I can tell. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t healthy. It’s self-destructive.”

He wiped his forehead. “You’re the one to talk.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hunnigan’s always talking about how you’re running away every time you see her. She has to drag you everywhere. She’s being nice to you, you could try appreciating that, you know? And you’re clearly stuck up on something, are you trying to repent for your sins or what?” He quite literally disarmed you with his icy stare.

“I’m not Catholic,” you retorted.

“Well, would you look at that. We’re more similar than I thought.” The smirk he had on was sardonic, the furthest from being friendly. You felt an urge to get up and never look back.

“Wrong,” you said as you crossed your arms. “I don’t expect alcohol to solve my problems.”

“Yeah, you’d rather run away from them. And that isn’t going well for you, is it?” He finished his drink and motioned for the server for another. “Also, stop being a hypocrite.”

“Excuse you?” you said with seething anger.

“Are you not trying to ‘get wasted beyond recognition’ right now, as you put it?” he sneered and pointed out your empty glass.

“That was one time, I usually don’t drink. And I’m not planning on drinking more.”

“Oh, did I ruin your fun?”

“Stop that,” you said through your gritted teeth. “Stop being mean. I’m not your friend. You don’t have to push me away. I don’t know why you invited me here. I can just get up and go, leave you with whatever you have up your ass that’s making you act like this. I’m only asking you to stop putting yourself down so much and you’re being all defensive. You know what, I don’t deserve this.” You got up from your chair, grabbing your jacket and purse.

He stood up quickly and tried to follow you. “Sit down, Leon. Your drink is coming.” You didn’t give him any chance to reply and threw the amount of cash that covered your single glass of alcohol on the table.

The walk from the noiseless bar to the nearest bus stop was not pleasant, to say the least. The air was biting cold, hitting your warm cheeks and making you shiver.

Leon only lost sight of you because he stopped to tip the server generously. He fucked up big time, he knew that. It was going to be a pain in the ass if you already jumped in a cab but he had hope that no vacant cab was passing the area on a Friday night.

He was stupid to think this would go smoothly. The last time he saw you, he was concerned about you. The way you’d casually admitted you were not fine was echoing in his mind. He wanted to see if you’d be there by the time he was back from duty. He admitted he was scared for you, for that woman who seemed so small during the funeral, for that woman who had a meltdown in her car in the middle of the day, barely hanging on.

He wanted to tell you today that maybe you should quit. But you had already crossed that bridge.

Maybe you wanted to help people, too. At least at the beginning. Now you wanted peace and quiet, because your life has been anything but. Unlike you, he gave up on that a while ago. He wanted to regard your daring words— I would— as being drunk, he really did.

Ada would never admit she’d want something like that to him, to anyone. Ada didn’t want a stable life, she would never live at a place longer than a month, work with someone more than twice. Even after all of their encounters, Leon still didn’t know what her actual motives were. Raccoon City, Spain, his last mission.

It was pitiful, the way his breath would hitch every time he saw a dark-haired woman wearing red out of the corner of his eye. His heart would pound in his ears for a quick second before he’d realize he was mistaken. He would allow himself, for a brief moment, that maybe it was Ada, here to see him. However, she was never the one to be sentimental. Her every action had a tangible intention that Leon could never guess.

But Leon knew she cared. Enough to save him every goddamn time he needed saving. Enough to ask him to come with her. If he was twenty-one, he would’ve chosen to tail behind her, ready to follow her wherever. Except he had changed, he was not naive anymore. He’d like to think he made the right choice by separating their ways back in Spain. He didn’t know if he was going to be used again.

He also didn’t know what would become of them. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to abandon the mission and ride off into the sunset with Ada yet a part of him wondered about their alternate universe in which he chose to follow her. What would have happened if he just hopped onto that helicopter with her? Where would she have taken him? Was she planning on greeting him properly after all those years? Was he ready to forgive her after Raccoon City?

Perhaps she would have dropped him off somewhere, with a phone number or an address, leaving him confused yet again. Maybe he would’ve reached out, met her in a different circumstance where they didn’t have to constantly run away from trouble. Maybe she’d be living in a small flat and then she’d ask him to come over. Maybe he’d continue to visit her, make himself familiar with her small space.

Except that was not feasible at all, since she was a fleeting kind of woman, just like all the moments they shared. Not there to stay. And none of these would happen, it would always be a different hotel room, different city, barring him from being constant in her life.

A puppy love, he used to think. Young, naive, credulous love. No, he realized, it got older and bigger, sicker. It was time to put it down, put it out of its misery.

He sprinted to the bus station, his hunch was right, you were sitting there, arms folded on your chest, alone. You looked up the moment you heard his footsteps. He left a few steps between you two and braced himself by putting his palms on his knees.

“Why did you come here?” he asked, his eyes were focused on your red nose. Probably from the cold, he convinced himself.

“What do you mean? You asked me to,” you grimaced.

“You said we’re not friends, so why did you come here?”

Your head turned opposite of Leon, resting your chin on your shoulder and hugging yourself tighter. “I wanted some company,” you grumbled, the collar of your jacket muffling your voice. “I think Hunnigan’s right and I might need it.”

“Sorry I’m not a decent one.” He took slow steps to sit next to you on the narrow bench of the bus stop, his shoulder grazing yours. That made you perk up at him.

“I’m sorry for the things I said earlier,” you said, holding his gaze.

“You said a lot of things.”

“Well, I’m sorry for all of them, I crossed a line.”

“Don’t be, I needed the scolding.”

“I didn’t mean to scold you.”

He knocked his knee to yours. “Do you always regret the things you say immediately after? I was an asshole, you got angry, rightfully so.”

“But I was the one who started it,” you pursed your lips.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re not kids.”

“I, uh, called a taxi, should be here in a few minutes,” you said after a minute of silence.

“Okay, tell me something in the meantime.”

“What do you want to hear?”

His thumb caressed his brow, he was contemplating. “Would you consider marrying me?”

“What?”

“Would you marry me? If I asked?”

“No, I heard you the first time.” Your eyes took in every inch of his face, searching for a sign, anything that might explain this. “Leon, are you drunk?”

“No, I’m nowhere near drunk. It takes more than one drink for me to get buzzed.” He crossed his arms, imitating you. “Think about it, we can both try to live calm and stable.”

Your face was contorted in confusion, still for a slight pause. “People don’t marry out of spite, Leon. They marry out of love.”

“Who said anything about spite?”

“You’re clearly angry at something or someone.”

“I am not.”

“This life you are living right now… isn’t quite what you planned, is it? Some things didn’t go according to plan and now you’re here, trying to steer the reins again. And you’re angry.”

“What are you, my therapist?” This time his comeback didn’t sound as if it was meant to hurt you, but to make the air between you lighter. “I guess I do resent some things, doctor.”

You went along with his enactment. “Admitting is a huge step Leon, I appreciate the honesty.”

“Now you be honest,” he said, bouncing his leg in impatience. “Are you in a relationship? Am I being creepy by cornering you like this?”

“I’m not and I don’t feel cornered. If I did, I’d just get up and go. You just saw.”

He nodded, his lips in a thin line. “Experienced firsthand how you run away from your problems and I don’t mean it figuratively.”

You chuckled. “You are not a problem in my life.”

“Not a friend either.”

Your smile dropped. “I don’t think we know each other that well.”

He hummed, looking far away. “That’s probably your cab.” He got up, shaking off dust from his jeans. “Take my number before you get in and let me know when you make it home safe.”

You gave him your number but didn’t get to write your name in his contacts as the cab drew near. “Thanks for keeping me company, you didn’t need to run after me,” you said as you handed him his phone.

“We won’t dwell on it,” he winked as he opened the back door of the cab for you. “And think it over, okay?”

“What?”

“My proposal. We can get to know each other, then we can get married. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. It’ll be convenient.”

“Tell me one good thing that will be convenient.”

“Uh, okay. Here’s two for you,” he said and held up two fingers. “A better healthcare plan and tax benefits.”

You laughed and the driver seemed annoyed that you were still standing in front of the open door. “I should get going.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said when you finally got in the car.

You texted him again two weeks after his ridiculous proposal.

Hi, Leon. Do you remember what you asked me after the bar two weeks ago?

Hi. Yes I remember.

Were you being serious or should I pass it as tipsy nonsense?

There was no response from him for a few minutes and you had started biting your nails nervously.

I was being serious. I wasn’t tipsy.

You stared at his short text longer than it took him to reply. You had already made up your mind but it felt cheap telling him over a text. This was not the proper way of doing this. You also didn’t know how to convey this to him, so you resorted to a playful text.

Ask me properly and I’ll consider it.

I’ll ask you again properly over dinner next Friday? I know a good Italian place.

The next Friday, he kept his promise and said those four words in a fancy quiet Italian restaurant. You said yes.

“I have a request,” you said, swirling your wine before taking a sip. “I want a wedding dress, not like a gown or anything. Just a simple white dress.”

“Sure, I already have a suit that I can wear.”

Your heart tugged in your chest. The fact that you had to buy your wedding dress by yourself, no matter how simple you envisioned it to be, without Cathy by your side was making your ears ring, drowning out all the knife and fork clatter around you.

Here's my hand There's the itch But I'm not supposed to scratch

—Love Me More, Mitski

It’s four a.m. and you want to say you’ve actually seen it coming. Every time something good happens, its catastrophe follows eventually. Just like how Cathy’s mission was going so well until it wasn’t.

It’s four a.m. and the meal you’ve prepared for Leon has gone cold on the dining table. You thought he’d be hungry when he came back from mission, so you went out and bought ingredients, followed a recipe word for word, even made soup additionally just in case he didn’t feel like eating solid food after what his body’s been through. He said he’d be back at one a.m. and he hasn’t contacted you since. You’ve called and texted him numerous times but it was radio silence from him.

He had promised you, before you got married, that he would always let you know when he got back from a mission and he always did. He never once forgot because you were very serious about this, wanted to know as soon as possible that he was back safe.

It’s four a.m. and you feel like you’re going crazy, soaring into a heaving fit as each minute passes by.

The sound of his keys makes you clutch at your chest and before you even realize, your legs are walking you to the front door. He’s being quiet and you wait for him few steps behind the door. His steps are feather light, head bowed down to take off his shoes, he exhales a long breath as he places his backpack down.

He flinches when he sees your silhouette in the dark. “God, you scared me. I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“You didn’t text me,” your voice breaks, your hands are clutching at the sides of your pajama shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“I forgot.”

Your tears threaten to fall down and you’re grateful that it’s dark and he can’t see. You bite down your lip strong enough to make it bleed. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you didn’t need to stay up.”

It’s not like you chose to, you physically couldn’t lie down or eat anything when your mind went all haywire, creating the worst possible scenarios it could think of.

“I, um, made dinner.” You point to the table. “But it’s gone cold, I can heat it up. Don’t know if it will taste any good, though. Did you have any chance to eat something? I mean, if you ate dinner, it’s been hours and you’re probably hungry—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I also made soup, so it’s easier on the stomach. You’re tired, right? Just eat some soup and then go to sleep. I’ll heat that up and there’s also tea in the pantry, supposed to help you sleep. Oh, I filled up the bathtub, I’ll go drain it, the water’s gone cold and you probably want to have a hot shower—”

He cuts you off again by blurting out your name. “Hey, hey, slow down.” His calloused hands come up to hold your shoulders and you let out a small whimper of surprise, your chin dropping to your chest. “I don’t want anything, I’ll just sleep.”

You shrug and escape from his hold, so he doesn’t ask you why you’re trembling like a leaf. “But shower…” you manage to make out and point to the direction of his room.

“Yes, I’ll drain the tub and shower, you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” you say softly. He’s home, you repeat deliriously. He’s here, very much alive. The thought calms your nerves instantly.

He doesn’t turn on any of the lights while navigating his home in the dark. You crane your neck to watch his silhouette move to his room. He opts to turn on the bathroom light first. You listen to the water droplets as you put away the food you made for him in containers. He says something you can’t quite hear when he gets out of the shower.

“Did you say something, Leon?” you raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, did you clean my room?”

“It was messy. Thought it’d be nice to see it tidy when you came back.”

He doesn’t reply right away and your head turns to his direction as if he can see you through the door.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to.”

You actually cleaned the whole house when he was away, not that he had the chance to see it.

You were aware from the very beginning that this was what you got yourself into. You and Leon never promised each other love. But why are you feeling like this now? Stupid question, really. Because things have changed, you’ve grown to love him and you’re afraid. You’re afraid that one day you’ll have to face the world without him by your side because he has become your anchor, holding you in place where you now call home. It’s nice having his warm hands on you, it’s nice coming home to him.

However, in moments like now it feels like you’re playing house, actors going their separate ways after the lights go out. It awfully feels like you’re standing in the middle of a dark stage, curtains closed so nobody can see what goes down behind the scenes.

You’re in front of his door, first aid kit in one hand, knocking. “Leon?” You know he’s not sleeping. He can’t sleep well after he comes back from his missions, his insomnia making it impossible for him.

The door cracks open and you slide past him before he can say anything, perching cross-legged on the side of his bed, placing the kit on your lap before propping his pillow against the bedpost so he can sit comfortably in front of you. “Let me have a look.” You pat on the bed. “And turn on the lamp, please.”

You can finally see him when he does. The first thing you see is the big purple bruise on his side because he’s only wearing his sweatpants. His hair is wet from the shower, hanging to his eyes, eyebags dark and prominent, one of his forearms is freshly bandaged. Despite all, he’s standing tall in front of you.

“They already patched me up,” he says, showing his bandage.

You take his hand and draw him near, making him sit on the bed with one leg dangling from the side. Half of his face is illuminated like this and you can see the cut on his jaw in its full glory. Your fingers begin to work quickly, cleaning the wound all the while he winces by closing his eyes. “Seems like they didn’t take a good look at you. What happened to your ribs?” you ask to distract him.

“Got kicked. They’re not broken.”

You put the band-aid on his jaw and search his eyes as they open. He blinks slowly at you, understanding that you want to hear more. “Hurts when I breathe but it should be gone in a few days, it’s not that bad.”

You take his unwrapped hand in yours, the skin of his knuckles is very red, it probably hurts when he flexes it. You grab the ice pack you remembered to bring with you and place it on top on his knuckles.

“Not there,” he mumbles. “Put in on my shoulder, it’s really sore.”

You place the pack on the shoulder he points. He tries to turn his head that way but his face contorts in pain and he gives up, exhaling a long sigh.

“Did you have them wrap it up?”

“No, can’t be bothered to rewrap it later.”

“That’s why you have me to do it for you,” you hum, adjusting the ice pack. You’re closer to him like this, able to smell his soap and shampoo from his body. You can make out the shape of his chapped lips and yours ache to kiss his pain away, except you are overheated with grievance.

His eyes bore into you, taking you in. There’s an unassuming hand on your bent knee, squeezing lightly. “Did I scare you?” he asks.

“You promised me,” you gripe to him, fumbling with your fingers on your lap after you place the first aid kit next to you. “You promised me that you’d let me know when you were back. Of course I was scared.”

His forehead falls onto your shoulder, damp strands of hair pressed to the side of your neck as the ice pack tumbles down his back onto the bed. “I’m sorry, honey,” he says breathily.

He’s only called you by your name all this time, so this is new. And stomach lurching. Your cheek knocks the side of his head with your startled reaction.

“I have no excuse,” he murmurs. His palm on your knee slides up, leaving a burning sensation as it goes along your thigh, bypassing your hips and finding place on the curve of your waist.

“It’s okay,” you squeak when you feel his thumb caressing your ribs through your t-shirt.

You don’t remember ever sitting down with him, drawing lines about the nature of your relationship, lines that both of you never meant to cross, because you didn’t. You didn’t discuss anything about boundaries because at the time you were getting married, you didn’t know him much. Both of you assumed that it would naturally develop, silent agreements to come.

It was manageable before, now it confuses you to the point of ripping hair from your own head. There were times where you didn’t think twice about giving him a friendly hug, a pat on the back, a reassuring squeeze to his knee but after getting into bed with him, every action was testing the waters.

It wasn’t even a bed; it was the couch in the living room where you had countless dinners and conversations, the heart of the home, if you will. It felt shameful afterwards as if it happened in an open space, because it was quick and devoid of any intimacy, but it was in the confines of your own quiet home still.

You want to go back to the time when you were friends, and not what this was supposed to be. You want to go back to the time when you didn’t know how it felt to have him like that, when you didn’t know his touch would be so tantalizing, his lips unbearably addicting, his warmth conquering.

Initially, you thought you’d cross any bridge regarding him when you came across it, but there weren’t any bridges around to reach him to begin with. You quickly realized that he had burned them before you, for everyone. So, you painstakingly built each and every one of them with your bare hands, desperate to get to him. And him shaking them felt immensely unfair, all your hard work threatened to fall.

Your hand on his chest pushes him away ever so slightly before his hand drops from your waist. He hisses softly yet the action hurts you more than it hurts him. He yields to your touch, back leaning on his propped-up pillow, waiting for you to gather the scatter of your thoughts patiently.

“Stop confusing me, Leon.”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you exactly?”

“You’re my wife,” he says. Obviously.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“We never guaranteed that it would.”

“Yeah, I know that. All this time I thought maybe we were doing better, now I don’t know Leon, you’re confusing me. Either stop giving me hope or just say it outright.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That I’m just a fuck buddy to you.”

His jaw ticks, lips curl in disdain. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I know we never established any boundaries between each other but it’s gotten to a point where I don’t know how I should act around you.”

His face stays stagnant. “You can’t be serious. Your boundaries were set from the beginning. You never had a place for me in your heart.”

Time seems to stop for you in that dire moment, Leon’s blue eyes serving you a new wrench of dismay. “When did I give off that impression?”

“Our first anniversary,” he clarifies hoarsely. “We ate pizza on the couch, remember?”

You do, you even remember the Disney movie he had rented as a cheeky nod to time you two first flirted. The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

“I always wonder why you said yes to my proposal in the first place,” he said after taking a bite from his pizza slice. It had been a year since getting married, Hunnigan was the one to point out to him. Apparently, she was proud of herself due to the fact that she was the one to introduce you two.

“I thought of Cathy and what she would’ve said to me,” you said, watching the animated Quasimodo sing his heart out to the town below him.

“What would she have said?”

“That it is ridiculous and maybe I should say yes.”

“So, you thought of what Cathy would’ve said to you getting married but not your family?”

You turned your head to him, ready to get vulnerable. “Cathy was family to me.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yeah, we met when we were roommates back in college. She urged me to change majors and follow her path.”

“To become an agent?”

“No, she was the one who always wanted to be a special agent. I didn’t know what to do at first but somehow ended up working alongside her.”

“What were you studying before?”

“I was studying to become a nurse. Kind of in my sister’s path, she’s a doctor.”

He scratched his nape, looking ashamed. “I believe I never asked that before, sorry about that.”

You elbowed his side after taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, you better be sorry for not knowing what your sister-in-law does for work.”

He rolled his eyes upon your teasing. “Were they supportive of you changing majors? Your family, I mean.”

“My family’s always been small. It’s just me and my mom and sister. Dad’s never been in the picture. He left when I was a few months old. My mom raised us herself. And yes, she would support anything I did. She loved Cathy because she would make me do things I’d never do myself.”

“Your mom sounds like a great person.”

“She was. She died four days before Cathy did.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he said, much more ashamed than before. You didn’t blame him, the first year of your marriage flew by really fast, with him on duty most of it. Forget sitting down like this to talk, you rarely got any chance to see him.

“Yeah, their deaths being so close fucked me up really bad. We were on mission. My mom was living with my sister then because she was sick. My sister didn’t tell me her condition was even worse than before.”

“Why?”

“Mom knew we were working on something big and begged my sister not to tell me. She thought she’d see me after I was done with the mission. I had a whole fight with my sister about it. I felt betrayed.”

“I think I would, too, in that situation.”

“I was so fucking unprofessional after that. I couldn’t keep on helping Cathy properly. And she—”

“It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, meeting your gaze in the space between you two on the couch.

“I’m tired of hearing that,” you huffed.

“None of that is on you. It’s the truth.”

“It’s not. I knew the situation was going bad. Cathy tried to make me believe it was not. Somebody else had to be transferred to take my place instead. I insisted but I had to be taken out. That’s when we lost connection to her.”

“How did you know it was going bad?”

“I could tell from her voice. I know her better than I know myself. I failed to get her help. I should have never listened to her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, could you? She clearly gave you wrong intel. You can’t send back-up until—”

“I could’ve made it seem like she requested back-up. That would’ve saved her, exterminated the mission, but saved her. I’d have faced the consequences of my actions sooner or later. If I did that and saved her, she’d be mad at me for years but who cares as long as she’s safe and sound?”

“I get it. I’d also have someone mad at me if it meant they’d be safe.”

“In the end, she died for nothing. The cult she was infiltrating dispersed after they killed her, all fled to different countries. It’s harder to track them down now. They’re everywhere.”

“You follow through with it? It would be impossible to track down each mission.”

“Why do you think I’m in the archives? I have access to mission reports. They don’t think it is bioweapon related, so sometimes they let me see them.”

Esmeralda was dancing along people’s whistles, captivating every man in the square.

“You said Cathy died for nothing but you actually don’t want that to be true.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you said, “Obviously.”

“You’re loyal,” he remarked. “I’m sure she would’ve loved to see her mission completed. Do you ever think of working as an analyst again?”

“Nope.”

From his expression you could tell he wanted an explanation, so you gave him one, “I don’t want to see people get hurt anymore. It’s a dangerous job, you know it. Why are you asking me?”

“No offense, but then why did you agree to marry me knowing I do the same job? If you’re scared of losing someone this much—it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You sighed, having a hard time thinking where to even start. “You’re going to call me crazy.”

“I would never,” he said, half-jokingly.

“Okay, I really did think what Cathy would tell me to do. I always listened to her, the whole time we got to spend together. She told me what she wanted to do with her life, told me I looked depressed with what I was studying and maybe we should join an academy together. She was larger than life, lit up an entire room with her presence, never spoke ill of someone, liked to help people in any way she could. I’ve always been shy, so she went above and beyond to find me decent blind dates.”

“She sounds wonderful. She was also your matchmaker?”

“In a way, yes. Dragged me to parties with her so I could have some fun.” You gave Leon a smile, recalling Cathy and her antics in your mind, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Nothing sounds crazy so far,” he reassured you.

Finished with your pizza, you dusted off the crumbs into the box and lifted up your knees to sit cross-legged facing him. “I couldn’t keep someone interested in me for more than two dates.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, his eyes traveling up and down.

“No, seriously. This one time, a guy left mid-date, told me he had a phone call, paid for the coffees and just left. I waited there for half an hour. It dawned on me when I couldn’t see his car outside. Didn’t call me after.”

Leon shrugged one shoulder. “His loss.”

You smacked his bicep playfully as a way of thanking him for his compliment. “I only went on these dates because Cathy thought it would be good for me. I had a few fights with my sister about Cathy and her influence on me. She thought I was like her puppet but I genuinely don’t think like that. I told you I knew Cathy like the back of my hand. It was the same for her. Never pushed me to do something I’d be uncomfortable with. Well, I’d feel awkward at times but it would be momentary, I’d learn so much in the long run.”

“That’s a very healthy way of looking at things. I’m still waiting for the part where you think I’d call you crazy.”

“I trusted her judgment because I knew she only wanted the best for me. She’d definitely try to set me up with you if we weren’t so busy all the time,” you said, lips curling into a roguish smile.

His eyebrows shot up, being brazen about it. “Oh, you’re saying I’d have her approval?”

Especially when you keep raking your hands through your hair like that, you wished to say. “Yes, you would.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

“You didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she means so much to you, I feel honored that you think that way.”

A haze of grief washing over your heart, lungs expanding, you started, “I also… never mind.”

A comforting hand fell on you shoulder, shaking you slightly. “Now you have to say it, don’t leave me hangin'.”

“Here’s the crazy part,” you swallowed dryly. “Whenever I thought of my future, it was always with Cathy. I didn’t even think of getting married. I thought we’d retire together when the time came, she and Allison—her girlfriend—would live next to me. And if they ever had the chance, they’d marry and maybe have kids. I’d look after them like they were my own, be the best aunt. Isn’t it crazy, dreaming of looking after someone else’s kids and not yours? Sometimes I’d lay my head down and imagine myself in a little community, living next door to Cathy and her family, growing my own vegetable garden—though I don’t know the first thing about gardening but I’d learn! I would also grow pretty flowers and give them out to anyone who decided to come over. Go to the bakery in the morning, greet everyone on the way and grab my breakfast fresh out the oven. I’d get so fat! Eating baked goods every day, sounds like heaven to me.”

“Indeed.” With a fond smile on his face, he took of his hand from your shoulder and fully turned to you, bending one leg up on the cushions. “I don’t think I met an Allison at the funeral, was she there?”

“She was,” you said, remembering the painful conversation you had with her. “She arrived really early and left before anyone from work came.”

“What happened?” he asked, noticing you ripping skin off your fingers just like you had been doing during that day.

“I tried to talk to her. She told me I was a liar and walked out—” Leon interrupted your chain of thoughts by taking your hand, preventing you from damaging your fingers further. “I couldn’t keep my promise to her. It’s awful. I told her before the mission that it was going to be okay, we’d done this with Cathy many times and I’d make sure to keep her in one piece.”

Your other hand had a death grip on your knee, nails digging and leaving indents to keep yourself grounded. “They tortured Cathy while she was captive. She died because she refused to give them any information.”

Leon seemed like he didn’t want you to continue, placed your hand in his as though he was reading your palm and started to fidget with your gold wedding band on your ring finger. “Tell me more about that dream of yours. I bet you wouldn’t even install normal ceiling lights in your house. It’d just be little lamps everywhere.”

Giggling, you said, “Yeah! I’d be that auntie that collects little trinkets and displays them all around her house. I’d learn how to knit and make so many ugly sweaters for God knows anyone.”

“So, no partner living with you? Just you with your trinkets?”

“There’s so many types of love and I just didn’t see myself in a romantic one. It just happened that I never pictured myself alone. That’s it.”

His hands slipped away after your raw confession, broad back straightening, appearing tensed up. Yet again, you couldn’t make out what his expression meant.

Esmeralda was now singing a hymn, Quasimodo staring at her in admiration from the shadows.

“I talked so much today, now’s your turn. I feel embarrassed that you know my abysmal attempts at finding love. How about you, Leon? You got any embarrassing stories that you can tell?”

His answer was quick and mischievous, “Yeah, this one time this lady just got up and left me at the bar. In the middle of an argument.”

You pursed your lips and bumped on his knee on the cushions, restraining a laugh you know he’d get satisfaction out of. “Don’t piss me off, that wasn’t even a date.”

“I had a girlfriend when I was twenty-one, she broke up with me before I started working as a cop.”

“That’s so long ago and not that embarrassing if I’m being honest,” you sniffed at him.

“I already told you about how I thought I’d marry her. I really believed my first ever relationship would live to see its future.”

Offering him a new perspective, you explained, “Well, technically it did, it just wasn’t a bright one.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, turning to the TV, stretching before bending his arms behind his head. “Wait—you’re telling me I’m the only long-term guy you had?”

His late light-bulb moment pulled a chuckle out of you. “Turning it back to me again, okay. No, I did date a guy for nearly one year. And before you ask, he said I worked too much and wasn’t fun.”

Leon’s face scrunching as if he just ate something sour, he blurted out, “Where do you find these types of guys? Did Cathy set you up with this asshole?”

“No, actually, I found him myself.”

“Is he the one who made you think you’re not fun to be around?”

You were left stumped, unable to think of any answer.

“What? If he is, I disagree with him.”

“You only say that because I go along with your corny jokes.”

“Yeah, that’s the only reason,” he chimed sarcastically.

Quasimodo was saving Esmeralda from the burning stake, the sign that the movie was about to end.

“Your dream,” he cleared his throat. “I could just picture it like a happy ending to a Disney movie. You know, they all have happy endings. Besides, I don’t think you’re insane for wanting a happy, peaceful life.”

“What’s insane about it is that I even imagined myself dying before Cathy. Getting buried before I got to bury her. I’ve never thought I’d live the day she wouldn’t, yet here I am… I wrote an entire script for the rest of my life in my mind, that’s why I spiraled down and down and down when it was not possible to play it out anymore. So, I stopped. It wasn’t healthy for me to continue obsessing over my ruined happy ending. I decided to live in the present. Write as I live on. Be more like Cathy, hopefully.”

There was little beer left in his can but he raised it anyway. “In the loving memory of Cathy Donovan, then.”

“I don’t have any drink left,” you gasped, lifting your can. “Cathy, I’m so sorry, you deserve the fruitiest of Martinis.” If Cathy was there, she would’ve laughed like a hyena, found it hysterical that you managed to call her fruity given the context.

After the honorary toast, Leon leaned back and intertwined his hands on his stomach, eyes fixed on the TV screen where Phoebus and Esmeralda were passionately kissing.

“The novel’s ending was not family friendly, I guess,” you mocked.

“I haven’t read it.”

“If you’re planning on reading it, my lips are sealed.”

“Don’t know if I have the time. I don’t mind, tell me.”

“It’s painfully sad. Esmeralda gets hanged, Quasimodo pushes Frollo from the cathedral tower in grief and rage. That’s the moment he realizes he’s lost everyone he’s ever loved. He also refuses to let go of Esmeralda, starves himself holding on to her dead body in her grave. Years later, an excavation group finds their intertwined skeletons and when they try to separate them, Quasimodo’s bones crumble to dust.”

“Now that’s vile.”

Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside I'm not wearing my usual lipstick I thought maybe we would kiss tonight

Baby, though I've closed my eyes I know who you pretend I am I know who you pretend I am

—Washing Machine Heart, Mitski

“How would I know I’d end up here?” you ask him, voice shaking. “We didn’t promise each other anything, so I didn’t have any hope.”

You want nothing more than to ask him about the teddy bear keychain he has in desk drawer, why he holds onto it, ask whether you should be relieved that it no longer has a key attached to it.

There is that gut feeling, clawing at your churning stomach, that tells you he has someone. Someone else who knows him better than you, who is a better match to him, who makes him happier.

Someone he loves.

“But we had sex, it made me question everything and I’ve come to the conclusion that we were both lonely and weren’t thinking straight. You acted like it didn’t change anything, it almost made me go crazy. Please say something so I can finally understand, Leon,” you cry out.

“I don’t regret it,” he declares. “I don’t regret what we did. And I know how we started this marriage, I assumed it would always be the same after you told me your feelings.”

“I admit I’m hard to be with.” Your head hangs to the side, brows furrowed. “It’s hard for me to trust someone as much as I trusted Cathy. I’m sorry it took two years for us to be candid with each other. I used to be laidback about who I slept around with before. Now, I don’t know, I think twice about how I should touch you, talk to you. I used to think romantic love was not for me, so I wasn’t worried when you proposed because you didn’t expect it. I thought it wasn’t for people like us.”

“But you are capable of love,” he emphasized. “I know you are. You’re so good to me all the time. You stay up all night worrying when I’m not home, cook food for me despite your hatred for it, remember the smallest things and help me out, talk to me when I can’t sleep. I can’t even repay you for any of it and you still continue to be good to me. See, you’re speaking in a way that’s making me think there’s a chance that you love me and I still can’t say it back.”

Your silent tears unsettle him, this is the first time you let him see you cry. He has heard it before, the soft sobs and small chokes at night when you didn’t know he was awake.

You sniffle, “I know you’re capable of it, too, Leon. If the reason you can’t say it back to me is what I think it is, you definitely are.”

You quickly wipe your tears with the back of your hand when he asks, “What do you mean?”

“There is someone, right? You love them.”

His silence speaks volumes and it becomes your acceptance.

“Don’t let this thing between us hamper it, okay? I’m fine with it. To be honest, I didn’t expect you to keep up the faithful husband act.”

“Jesus,” he howls. “Just how terrible do you think I am? This thing between us is our fucking marriage. Not some situationship. Although I can’t make you think otherwise because you refuse to. I’m only gonna say this once, okay? I respect you enough to not sleep around behind your back.”

“Thank you, Leon, but I’m saying it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.” You take both of his hands, wanting to remember the feel of him. “You love someone else and it’s okay. You’re better off with them. Hopefully they’re better at love than I am.”

You take off your ring and place it in your palm, caressing it. “I know I probably shouldn’t be asking for this but I got so used to the weight of it on my finger. Can I have it as a keepsake?”

He grips your wrist tightly, grimacing. “What are you doing?”

“This is me letting you go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, voice thick. The way he places the ring on your finger again is a wretched overcompensation for not doing it before. You two didn’t have rings at the wedding and you were the one to place it on your own finger after purchasing them. “You’re running away,” he speaks in a hoarse croak. “Where will you go this time, hm?”

“I’ll resign and move close to my sister.”

His palms are cupping your jaw, fingertips in your hair. Him closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours is a way of saying I can love you if you give me time, I know I can.

“Stay,” he whispers, narrowing your whole world down to his warmth and you shudder from it. “Just tell me what you need.”

I need you to love me more, love enough to fill me up till there’s no crack left for me to write happy ever afters that will never come true. I need you to fill me full up, love enough to drown it out. Drown me out.

“Kiss me.”

“That I can do, honey.”

You know perfectly well that you’re selfish for wanting him like this. However, you yearn for the still of his hands on you, the irresistible feel of his skin on yours.

A kiss is placed on your temple, another one on your damp cheekbone, another on your jaw. Your eyes are closed the whole time he moves slow with his kisses. He grazes his nose beneath your ear, bringing you close to the brink of tears again. His hot breath is licking the other side of your face after, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“Scoot,” he says before gripping your waist and tipping you towards his torso. “My back is killing me like this.”

You’re afraid of hurting him with your weight but he insists, pulling you and placing you on his lap, getting you to straddle him, your thighs encasing his on either side. Your face a few inches above his, he tips his head back and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can see a gash on his shoulder that disappears down his back which you didn’t notice before and you become aware once again that this isn’t the right moment to ask him for this.

“Leon—”

He can tell you’re about to get off him and he shuts you up by pulling you in a crushing kiss, pressing your chest to his with arms around your back so you won’t get away. “Stay here, don’t run away from me,” he says between labored breaths. His fingertips dance on your sides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand. He can probably feel your heart thumping crazy against his chest.

You caress the indent on his chin with your pointer finger, leaning down to kiss it. Leon lets out a delicious sigh, hands feeling up the sides of your thighs.

“Why did you kiss me at the wedding? There was no one to see,” you finally ask.

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes flicking to the side trying to remember it. “The officiant was there. And the photographer.”

You nod and his lips are on yours again, tender this time. He opts to place quick kisses over and over again when he’s done being gentle. A chuckle escapes you when his nose bumps yours.

Fingers drifting under your shirt, he scratches your back up and down with his blunt nails. Any inch of skin he comes across, he kisses. Earlobe, jaw, neck, shoulder peeking through shirt. One hand splaying his fingers on your back, middle finger in line with your spine, right between your shoulder blades, the other one comes up front, lifting the front hem of your shirt. “Take this off.”

He doesn’t move the hand on your back when you’re taking it off, eyes dropping down to meet the new exposed skin. But you feel too naked, even though he’s wearing the same amount of clothes as you. You hug him around his neck, careful not to hurt him, bare chests pressed together.

He clasps the tops of your arms, biting the inside of one bicep.

“Ouch.” You retreat. “Why did you do that?”

“Let me see you.” He tips you backwards after his hand comes up to your nape, your butt slides on his lap, making you sit right on his crotch. He lets out a content hum, not embarrassed of his half hard erection. You cling to his biceps although his hand on the back of your neck is securing you in place.

A kiss is planted to the base of your throat and then to each collarbone. The hand on the front cups the underside of your breast, goosebumps rising on your skin. A wet kiss on the valley of your breasts, his breath cooling it. A low moan from you when he takes a stiff nipple in his hot mouth, finally giving it some attention. He twirls his tongue around it, teasing, before licking it right.

Your hips move involuntarily, rubbing against him through clothes all the while he sucks, kisses, grazes teeth. A jolt of electricity travels down to your core when he switches sides, underwear clinging to your sticky folds. You keen into him, pushing your chest out when he begins to suck a bruise under your breast. Your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging on his damp strands.

You discern his knitted brows and inclined back before tapping his shoulder. “Leon, stop.”

He halts the moment he hears you. The sight of a string of spit connecting his lips to your chest is obscene. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re hurting. You should lay down,” you say while standing up.

His eyes never leaving you, he gets off the bed as well. He seizes you under your arms, picking you up with ease. “See, honey? I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” He doesn’t let you protest and nips at your bottom lip before sloppily kissing you, tongue claiming every crevice of your mouth.

“No, put me down!” you wail, kicking your feet in the air.

“Okay, okay,” he grins, setting you down on the floor. Your heated cheeks amusing him, he takes your hand and places it on the waistband of his sweatpants. “This is the only thing you need to worry about.”

You decide to be daring and slide your hand down, palming him through layers of clothing. “Fuck,” he huffs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against yours, big hands pawing at your backside, fondling your ass. Your hand slips past his briefs, touching him without any barriers.

“Oh, just like that,” he encourages you when you pick up a pace. His abs tightening, it doesn’t take long for him to fully get hard. “Ah, wait—”

“Hm?” You look up at him, just holding him in your palm.

“Need to get a condom, be right back.” He squeezes your ass one last time. “You better take everything off,” he teases before stepping away to get to the bathroom.

Second thoughts come rushing to your mind the time he’s undressing and grabbing a condom in the bathroom. Maybe, you shouldn’t do this. It’s only going to make it harder for the both of you. You admitted loving him and he wasn’t able to say it back. But he told you to stay, he needs you, wants what you’re able to give him. And you desperately need to give him all you have, mind and body, even if it means for a short time.

Because you know you will never be able to love like this again.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a packet of condom is thrown on the bed in front of you, hands gathering your hair on one shoulder to return messy kisses to your neck from the back.

Your back meets his pecs, his erection snug between your bare ass cheeks, you sigh softly when his fingers find their way to your clit, making your spine tingle. You hold on to his forearm, clawing at his veins as he gathers your wetness from your entrance, back to circling your bundle of nerves with now soaked fingers. His bandaged hand urges you to spread your legs more before finding place on your throat. He ruts his hips against your ass, breathing loudly while you whine out incoherent sounds.

He groans your name, drawing your attention up to his scrunched face. “You’re so good to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper as he drags two fingers all the way along your slit, pumping them inside. The way you stretch around his fingers distracts him from the rhythm of his hips, making him still. But you crave the friction, arch back your own hips to get him to move again. Your hand winds around and finds his aching hard dick, thumb stroking the precum all over his angry red tip. Your head rolls back over his shoulder and you want nothing more than to properly see.

“Leon, I’m close,” you moan and push his hand away. “I want to see you.”

“Anything you want, honey,” he pants in your ear, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of it.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, endowing him the sight of your glistening slit before laying down on your back, waiting for him to get on top of you. He parts your legs, taking a good look before smearing his tip on your folds, a mix of your wetness and his precum making it extra slippery.

“Please,” you manage to make out, one arm across your chest, another resting on his shoulder.

He rips your arm from your chest and pulls both your wrists above your head. “I said let me see you.”

He doesn’t let you fuss, fucking up his cock against your clit, allowing himself the bare feel of you for a little while.

He kisses your pout away before retreating to roll the condom on. You hiss as his tip breaches your entrance, legs trying to close on instinct, but he’s laying between them. He gets you used to the feel of him inside before you nod for him to move, slowly at first. Once your back arches and your hips shift, he gets the message to piston his hips faster.

He searches for the right pace just by examining you, what your face does when he tries something new, how your back arches, by the sounds you make. Not too fast, not too slow, he eventually finds an angle you particularly like.

“Too good for me,” he chants whilst thrusting, intertwining his fingers with yours above your head. You notice the absence of his ring but you don’t worry about it because you know he leaves it on his desk when he’s away for a mission, not wanting to lose it.

Your legs hug him around his waist, heels pressing him into you deeper. “Yes, yes, yes…” You keep singing his name when you feel it building up inside.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he grunts, listening to the slaps of skin and your frantic cries of pleasure.

“Good ‘cause I’m so close.”

He takes that as a challenge, making sure you reach your high before him. He watches as you do, walls clenching down on his length, lips chasing his.

He’s cooing in your ear between your gasps, coaxing your bliss out of you. “I know, honey, I gotcha. You can let go.”

Your mouth opening in a silent moan as your orgasm ripples through you, hands trembling in his hold, legs trying to shut, your entire body quivering as you ride it out.

Irregular thrusts of his hips bouncing your breasts in front of him, he nestles his face between them, breathing in your scent. He noses the blossoming mark he left under there and moves slow, dragging it out as much as possible.

He sinks boneless on you, his weight feeling comforting rather than crushing. You embrace him as he softens out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He peels the condom off and lays on you for a while, head between your ribs, trying to catch his breath. You wipe away sweat from his temple, frowning.

“You’ll have to hop in the shower again.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he says, voice muffled and nasal. “And you’re coming with me, too.”

“Leon!” you shriek, playfully slapping his twitching bicep. “You shouldn’t tire yourself more.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was gonna ask you to wash my back.”

After a few minutes, you drag him in the shower, helping him soap his back. He stands under the hot rain when you’re cleaning yourself with his body wash, eyes and hands wandering, groping here and there. You smack his naughty hands each time, can’t help but giggle. However, he’s tired and sleepy, so he’s only playing.

You offer to change his sheets but he insists on doing it in the morning and tugs your arm to your room, preferring to sleep in your clean sheets. He nearly falls asleep as you blow-dry your hair, waiting for you in the bed.

As soon as you’re snuggled up to him, he tucks you to his chest, chin on your forehead. Soft sighs tickle the crown of your hair.

“Can I ask you a question?” he murmurs, barely audible.

Your pointer finger stops drawing circles on his pectoral muscle. “Mhm?”

“After your mom and Cathy passed away, how did you survive? There has to be a reason.”

“I actually planned to end it all after both funerals. I told myself to just get past that week. It’ll all be over in a week. But there’s my sister. She came with me to help with Cathy’s funeral. Forced me to eat anything she could cook while I lived on autopilot. She was washing my hair in the sink when I realized I can’t leave her behind. It’s just not fair. She has a wonderful husband but a husband doesn’t mean forever— I mean, look at what my mother got. A deadbeat husband who left her with two little kids. My sister doesn’t have any kids. Worst case scenario, her husband leaves her and—”

He retracts abruptly to search your face, hand on your cheek to steer you to him. “So, you wrote a script again. With a sad ending.”

“My sister is my only family left. I don’t want her to live unhappily.”

“Hey, I’m your family, too. Why are you talking like I’m not here?” He presses a long, soothing kiss to your lips. His fingers tip your chin up. “Look at me. What do you have in that mind of yours? What kind of script do you have for us?”

You lie. “I don’t have one.”

He smiles. “Good. Because we’ll write one as we go on.”

(a/n: a very short part 2 will be posted here in a few days, keep an eye out for that. ty for reading!)

PART I | PART II | PART III (finale)

#leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #i forgot to post this on tumblr #leon kennedy smut

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h-didanart · 3 months ago

Note

Good evening ✨✨✨

I may have exactly what you want ✨

Several versions even ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

What can I say, I saw an interesting plot point that was completely and utterly abandoned and unacknowledged and then proceeded to hammer it into as many aus of mine as is possible :3

I think we need more more AU that look into just how different blood copy (made by ruin) & blood moon (made by eclipse) are.

Like, the blood moon that ruin made was in the same boat as eclipse when they were alive, so it would be really interesting if anyone explored it more, whether it be from code mess ups, or just different dynamics, heck, even an alternate universe where someone just straight up tells blood copy that they’re not the original blood moon. I feel like that would be interesting.

They’re definitely routes that could be taken with this in mind, from possibly trying to distance themselves from the blood moon name (trying to push that they are not anyone’s tools), trying to prove that they are somehow the original/better than the original, an existential identity crisis.

Moe universes where ruin messes up their code in a way that creates someone that is supposed to be a blood moon, but is very different from said image also pretty interesting.

Hell even AUs where they have a completely different dynamic in October are interesting!

I really just feel like this singular concept of the animatronics ruin making just being copies of the original ones has so much potential that was never really delved into with the show. The most we got of this was everyone acknowledging that the eclipse ruined made isn’t the original eclipse. Would that’s it.

I wanted them to have a father-son relationship :D

#yes this is about the Grief Trio #Bloody and Harvest may have been in a breakdown but the distinctions between them and the originals were too strong for them to ignore—#—they don’t resonate with the Bloodmoon name anymore but they will carry it despite the horrors tied to it #also they made a small memorial for the originals in one of the trees they sleep at for the original’s birthday that’s been canon for 5 mont #Ruby and Vermillion are double this first being a BMII second by being reset from that state—#—they *hate* their predecessors and do not take the Bloodmoon name at all #Cherry and Mahogany were in the middle of splitting from what everyone expects from a Bloodmoon when they reached their breaking point #Original is weird in this regard. he understands he isn’t the first Bloodmoon but doesn’t think less of himself in that aspect—#—he even thinks he and Adaptation were the upgrades more apt for killing and brandishing the name #of course any and all passion for that went down the drain during April #as for other interesting cases #Ocean doesn’t have a distinction between the OG and copies they’ve all been around for some time but there is differences between—#—the more pushy and action oriented Bloody and Scythe and the more follower type and reserved Rabies and Harvest #Hunter is AN original AI in a copy body which you’d think would minimize the identity crisis. it doesn’t :) His memoriesget manipulated—#—and twisted into making him see Jigsaw as his other so when Jigsaw is no longer in the picture… things get bad #Fantasy dealt with being brought back to life from whatever traces of a soul Ruin could get which weren’t many—#—much themes of purpose and not knowing what to do with yourself with them #WH is also an OG ai in copy body but unlike Hunter Buzzsaw doesn’t manipulate their feelings so badly—#—they have an oddly wholesome roommate//only-person-i-can-rely-on dynamic #Horror BMII was supposed to be an incredibly mean prank on Eclipse having to do with his recently deceased sibling(s)—#—that’s the standard for them and things only get worse #I could go on but I feel like I kinda already overstepped in this so sorry about that I just saw someone ACTUALLY talk about an aspect abo—#—ut BM that I love and is extremely under appreciated and underused and I kinda just started typing and didn’t stop and #tldr; I like BM too much #tsams au confessions #posts by others #sams bloodmoon

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chahnniesroom · 6 months ago

Text

some loves

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: some loves are too hard to bear. years after being trainees together, chan still thinks of you all the time. he has no idea that a collaboration would lead him back to you.

word count: 6.9k

tags/warnings: reader is an independent singer/songwriter, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of past injuries, a little bit of jealousy, i am still in denial that chan doesn't do lives anymore, hongjoong from ateez is in this fic

read it on ao3 | masterlist

a/n: once again, sorry for the long time between posts. disclaimer that i do not know much about how the music/idol industry works and i did not really do much research. also i'm not an atiny so sorry if my portrayal of hongjoong is not realistic at all. also also i did a lot of the writing on a new tablet doing handwriting with a stylus to text so please forgive any typos or weird formatting! i didn't have a chance to edit much so i may have missed some things.

Chan’s in his studio when he gets the call. At first, he doesn’t even realise his phone is ringing. It’s 2am on a weekday and he’s been working away for a few hours so the rest of the world has just about faded into the background.

He’s both surprised and intrigued when he looks at the caller ID and sees Hongjoong’s name. Chan would consider Hongjoong to be a friend, but they’re not particularly close and he can’t think of a reason that would warrant this late night call.

“Hey hyung,” Hongjoong greets him briefly before getting straight to the point. “What’s your schedule like in the next few months?”

“It’s actually not too bad,” Chan replies after a moment of thought. “We’re just finalising all the music for the next album so it’ll be a bit of time before we get busy with recording and filming for the comeback. What’s up?”

“You don’t have the answer now and I don’t want you to feel any pressure at all, but would you be interested in doing a collab together?”

“A collab?” Chan repeats. “Like, ATEEZ and Stray Kids?”

“We could,” Hongjoong says reluctantly. “But actually, if you’re up for it then I was thinking more like just you and me. I have a couple tracks that we could work off of and I’ve roped in someone to help me with recording, engineering, and production.”

“Who?” Chan asks, interest piqued.

“Not sure if you’ve heard of them, they go by the name HALLA.”

Chan recognises the name instantly. When Chan had first stumbled upon HALLA one late night scrolling and listening to different independent artists, they seemed relatively unknown. However, a little research revealed that they had KOMCA credits on a number of songs for idol groups, some of which had become widely popular. Their personal work was a variety of genres and a majority of the tracks didn’t have vocals, but the ones that did had clever or thoughtful lyrics. There were a couple of different voices featured in the original songs, both of which were smooth and melodic. HALLA has a style that Chan thinks would complement Stray Kids and he’s considered reaching out to them a few times, but was always held back by something.

There was little about HALLA posted on the internet and while Chan definitely appreciates their privacy, he’s curious to meet the person behind all the songs that he enjoyed. There’s just something familiar about all their music that he can’t quite place, something that he wants more of.

“I’m in,” Chan agrees.

“You can take some time to think about it, talk to JYPE to see what their thoughts are too.”

“No need, I’m interested and I know I can convince management to support this.”

“Well that was easy,” Hongjoong says and Chan can basically hear him grinning through the phone. “And for my own pride, I’m going to pretend that you said yes the second I suggested the collab instead of when I mentioned HALLA-ssi.” Chan instantly flushes and is glad that Hongjoong can’t see him over the phone.

“It wasn’t-” Chan begins to protest.

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong interrupts. “I’m also pretty thrilled to get to work with them, so I understand. Didn’t realise you were familiar with their work, but I guess a hidden gem like them can’t stay hidden for long. I’ll send some files over to you and we can organise a time to work.”

—

Chan finds it easy to work with Hongjoong and they make quick progress on the song, writing lyrics and creating a guide within a couple of weeks. Before he knows it, they’ve scheduled a time for Chan to visit KQ Entertainment to record vocals. Hongjoong knows that Chan is keen to be involved in the production and arrangement of the song too, so they also have a couple sessions booked for that, although Hongjoong teases him relentlessly about just wanting to work with HALLA. The worst part is that Chan can’t even deny it.

Hongjoong meets him at the entrance of KQ Entertainment and quickly takes him through security.

“HALLA-ssi is already in the studio,” Hongjoong explains as they wait for the elevator to arrive. “I was getting input on a track that’s been killing me for the past few days.”

“Did they help?” Chan asks, a little surprised that HALLA is involved in more than just this collaboration. He still hasn't had a chance to connect with them other than quick introductions through text a couple of days ago and he's just as excited to meet them as initially.

“Yeah!” Hongjoong grins, eyes curving into little crescents. “HALLA-ssi is amazing. She only had listen to it a couple times before she came up with suggestions on a few different ways to fix the part that I hated. I left her to finish cleaning the song up and then it’s basically ready for review.”

“How did you start working with HALLA-ssi? I’ve been meaning to try to connect with her.”

“It was actually a friend that suggested working with her. For someone who isn’t signed with a label- which I don’t know how nobody has signed her yet- she’s surprisingly well connected within the industry. I’m sure that KQ would be more than happy to have her work with us, but when I hinted at that, she didn’t seem interested.”

“Really?” Although KQ Entertainment is still one of the smaller companies in the industry, most unsigned artists would still jump at the chance to work there since they have a good reputation, especially due to ATEEZ’s popularity.

“I haven’t poked too much, it’s not really my business. I thought I might as well try. I just know that she’s amazing at her job and I’m grateful that I get to work with her at all.”

They turn the corner to the hallway that leads to the recording studio. The door is ajar and Hongjoong opens it, waving his arm forward to allow Chan to walk through first, before following closely behind.

HALLA’s sitting at the desk and the second Chan sees her face, he stops in his tracks.

“Y/n,” Chan breathes.

You look up, startled, and your eyes connect for a split second before Hongjoong crashes into Chan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Hyung,” Hongjoong complains, unaware of Chan’s inner turmoil. “Why’d you stop?”

Chan lets out an apologetic wheeze from where he’s now trapped under Hongjoong, before resting his forehead against the ground. He needs a second to recover.

It feels like a punch to the gut to see you in front of the recording studio’s computer, fiddling with a track. You look different, but somehow it feels like Chan has been transported right back to his trainee days and all that time that the two of you had spent side by side.

It has been years since Chan last saw you. He had found out that you had left JYPE just months after Stray Kids officially debuted, but all efforts to track you down had been futile. You had changed your number and broken contact with all the other trainees. He had asked around a little bit, but everyone he talked to had been unusually cagey about the subject.

Suddenly, everything makes more sense, especially the little that he knows about HALLA.

As trainees, Chan’s favourite moments had been when you had regaled him with stories of growing up on Jeju Island. The two of you had connected early on through your shared love of the ocean. You had promised him that if he ever went to visit in his free time, you would take him on the best trails up to the Hallasan, the shield volcano, and show him incredible views from the highest point on the island. Occasionally, your parents would send you care packages and the two of you would open them hidden away in one of the vocal practice rooms, the sweet citrus of hallabong exploding in your mouths.

You had always spoken about Jeju Island so fondly, of course you would find a way to indirectly pay homage through the stage name that you chose.

“Oppa,” your voice rings out in the silence of the room. Now, Chan knows why the female voice on some of HALLA’s songs had always seemed hauntingly familiar. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” both Chan and Hongjoong say at the same time, then make eye contact with identical confused expressions.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you didn’t mention that the person you wanted to feature on the track was Channie-oppa,” you say, making it clear who you were addressing your concern to earlier.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hongjoong gets up slowly, dusting off his clothes and scratching at the back of his head, still looking bewildered. “I had no idea that you two knew each other, hyung mentioned he hadn’t worked with you before.”

Chan stays quiet, not sure how much you’re willing to share. Hongjoong must not know about your time with JYPE if he can’t piece together how the two of you could have met.

“Oh- I used to- We trained together back in the day,” you explain sheepishly. “I was with JYPE for a little while and all the trainees knew who Channie-oppa was. That was a long time ago though, I didn’t use the name HALLA back then.”

The five years that you trained at JYPE are more than a little while, but Chan forces himself to bite his tongue at your deliberate understatement. You don’t elaborate further and while it’s obvious that Hongjoong isn’t satisfied with your answer, he’s willing to drop the topic for now. You look relieved when he switches the subject to the song.

The three of you finish recording quickly. It shouldn’t be a surprise, the work so far with Hongjoong has been smooth so adding you to the mix has just made things easier, but Chan knows he’s a perfectionist and it often takes him an almost embarrassing number of takes before he’s satisfied. The only delay comes when Hongjoong decides he wants you to sing some of the backing vocals and resorts to actually getting on his knees and begging. Chan doesn’t go so far, but he can’t help but agree that your voice blends with the song perfectly. Of course, he also just wants to hear you sing.

You relent when Chan quietly voices his agreement and it really shouldn't make Chan feel as smug as it does.

It’s not even early enough for dinner when things are wrapped up. Chan is usually eager to finish a schedule early, but he’s reluctant to leave, taking his time packing up his belongings.

Finally, he doesn’t have a reason to stay any longer so he musters up the courage to ask.

“Do you guys want to go grab some coffee or something to eat?”

You and Hongjoong make eye contact before turning to look at Chan guiltily. His stomach churns for some reason.

“I’m sorry,” you wince. “I actually promised to help Hongjoong-ssi with an ATEEZ song and we need to go over the edits that I made before his meeting with the company later today.”

“Oh,” Chan replies, feeling a little relieved. “Right, no yeah I get it. Hongjoong actually mentioned that earlier, but I forgot. My bad.”

You offer an apologetic smile before turning to the computer, opening up a file.

“I’ll see you guys next time, then,” Chan says, starting to back out of the room.

“Of course! Thank you for your hard work and good job today!” you say brightly. Looking distracted, Hongjoong mumbles an agreement and waves goodbye. Unlike you, he’s not staring at the computer monitor though. Instead, his focus is solely on you. Even from his side profile, Chan can tell that he’s enamoured.

Honestly, Chan can’t really blame him, you look comfortable and confident, swallowed up in an oversized hoodie as you start explaining the alterations that you made to the track. Your voice is calm, but warm and you’re careful to start off by complimenting the work that Hongjoong had done previously.

Chan leaves, resolutely ignoring the twisted feeling that’s back with a vengeance and any thoughts of what the cause might be.

—

Chan can’t sleep. His thoughts are all about you, what you’ve been doing the past few years, what happened to you at JYPE that made you leave, and mostly trying to remember how and why your relationship with him slowly fell apart.

That’s the hardest part. In the darkest time of his life, when Chan had been discouraged and disheartened, you had joined JYPE with a brightness and enthusiasm that gave Chan the motivation to continue being a trainee. He had adored you. He still does.

In those last few months before the survival show had been filmed, Chan’s relationship with you had gone from being everything to nothing. It happened in the blink of an eye, and Chan had never understood what caused you to withdraw so quickly and thoroughly. The two of you had gone from spending almost all of your free time together to you avoiding him at the company, pretending not to hear when he called out your name or tried to get your attention.

The regret of letting you slip away has always eaten away at him, but now more than ever.

Of course, at the time it hadn’t felt so simple. The survival show was Chan’s first serious chance to debut, and not just that, but the weight of having eight other people’s careers depending on his leadership took a toll on all his other relationships. Your absence in his life still hurt, but Chan had lots of practice losing people. He had coped in the way that worked best in the past, throwing himself headlong into producing, training, anything to keep himself from wallowing in his feelings.

Chan doesn’t have any schedules for today, but he still heads to the company. He knows this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with things, but he doesn’t know anything else.

When he arrives, Chan just barely manages to catch a glimpse of a few familiar faces. He calls out before he can think better of it, jogging slightly to catch up. Sana, Momo, and Mina watch curiously as he approaches. He knows that Twice also aren’t in a busy period of the year, so he doesn’t feel guilty delaying them.

“Sorry to bother you all. Sana-noona, I was just wondering if we could chat?”

Sana makes brief eye contact with the rest of the girls before agreeing and waving them to go ahead of her. She follows behind Chan as he leads them into his studio, clearly interested in determining the reason behind this atypical meet up.

“What’s up, Channie?” she asks once the door is closed behind them.

Chan tries to think of the best way to start, not wanting to just outright ask, but not knowing how to subtly steer the conversation into the right direction. Finally, he abandons trying to be casual and just blurts out, “Do you remember Y/n?”

“Of course I do,” Sana says, sounding amused at the sudden mention of you. “You both had reputations for being veteran trainees. I mean, other than Jihyo.”

“I was always surprised that she never debuted,” Chan admits. “I just thought it would happen eventually and I was so shocked to find out that she had left. I didn’t- I don’t understand why she gave up on something she wanted so badly.”

“Give up?” Sana asks, sounding like she’s offended on your behalf. “Why would you say it like that?”

“What do you mean? It was like she was there one day and gone the next, I just assumed that she had enough and quit. Nobody seemed to know anything about it. I never found out why and it’s been kind of killing me.”

“You didn’t hear what happened?”

“What- something happened? To her?” Chan swallows hard, suddenly feeling unwell.

“It- I thought that you of all people would know-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, but- you never talked to her about it? You knew her better than any of us.”

“Noona, I didn’t know that she was gone until months later. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it to me, I never reached out at first. When I finally did, her number had been changed. What was I supposed to do?”

“I- It’s better if you were to hear it from her. I don’t know the full story and you know how things can be distorted through gossip. And you especially must know how dangerous that can be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really have no clue? The two of you were inseparable…”

“Please,” Chan pleads.

“You know how it is in the industry, you were so close, of course there were rumours…”

It suddenly clicks.

“But we were just friends! And the dating ban-”

“Chan, you know nobody actually sticks to those, right?”

“But really, we were never-”

“I believe you,” Sana says, carefully. “But you know that to management that it doesn’t really matter whether or not anything was actually going on. To them it’s all about the optics. A perceived relationship is just as dangerous as an actual one.”

“Management…” Chan repeats, his mind racing. “They never mentioned anything to me though.”

“You never found it suspicious? You two are extremely close and out of the blue she suddenly stops talking to you, then right after the two of you stop hanging out, you’re chosen for the survival show? Someone must have talked to her at some point. Maybe not management, but for sure someone.”

“You think that’s why it took so long for me to debut?” Chan asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“It was a liability,” Sana explains. “To have a dating scandal so early on? Neither of your careers would survive. It’s painful and a terrible part of the industry but it’s true.”

“And.. Why she left, you know about that too?” Chan pleads.

“I think I’ve said too much already. I know that it’s hard, but some things are really personal.” She pauses for a moment. “What brought this on, anyway? You haven’t mentioned Y/nnie in years.”

“I can’t say much, but I- I saw her today, got to talk to her, found out what she’s been up to.” Sana gasps. Chan continues. “It was so weird to see her after so long. In the back of my mind, I had always wondered, but…”

“I’m glad that you two got to reconnect,” Sana says gently. “The two of you cared about each other a lot, that much was obvious. Talk to her, I think at the very least you’ll be able to find peace about what happened.”

“Noona-” Chan reaches out and pulls Sana into a tight hug. “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I’m sorry that it took so long for you to find out.”

—

A few days later, Hongjoong schedules another session to work on the song. Leading up to it, Chan is both looking forward to it and nervous, not sure what to expect. Although he still really wants to know what happened to you all those years ago, he’s scared about what he might learn and any part he might have had in it.

After a sleepless night, he ends up arriving almost 15 minutes early. This time, Hongjoong isn’t waiting at the building’s entrance. Instead he had let him know a few days before that Chan could just sign himself in and had sent him the name and location of the studio that was booked. When Chan reaches it, he can make out conversation from inside.

“HALLA,” Hongjoong can be heard through the studio doors, which aren’t fully shut. His tone is petulant and much more casual than it was previously. Chan wonders how much time the two of you have spent together between then and now and he almost misses the next thing that Hongjoong says. “You never told me that you were a trainee before.”

That stops Chan in his tracks, interested in how you’ll respond.

“It was a long time ago.” Your voice is faint. You’re still nice, but Chan can tell that your voice is stiffer than usual. “It doesn’t really matter now.”

This time, Hongjoong doesn’t let it go.

“What happened?” he prods.

“Just drop it,” you warn him. “It’s the past, forget I told you in the first place. Nothing ever came of it anyway.”

“Y/n-” Hongjoong changes tactics, the nagging tone replaced with a quieter, more serious one. You sigh.

“It didn’t work out. Obviously. I’m just not idol material.”

“Oh come on, I don’t believe that for a second. Your producing is good enough that I know for sure you’ve been getting offers to work with more companies than just KQ. When you direct during recording, you can hit every note without any warm up or practice. And I’ve heard your original songs, you must have been considered for both the position of lead rapper and lead singer as a trainee because there’s no way that anybody would let your talent go to waste.” Hongjoong is breathing hard by the end of his rant and Chan can see that this is something that has been bothering him for a while.

“It’s okay, Hongjoong-oppa.” Your voice is gentle, like you’re trying to comfort him. “I’m happy with what I have right now. Really. I’m grateful for all the freedom I have. Getting to work on any project I want and experiment with my music without having to deal with the bureaucracy and politics of the industry? Having that independence is precious to me. I wanted to be an idol for a long long time. But even though that specific plan I had didn’t work out, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy with what I’m doing.”

Hongjoong stays quiet for a while.

“Do you think that if you had the opportunity to debut as an idol now, you would?” he finally asks.

“Oppa, it’s not possible. I can’t dance, I’m too old-” you protest.

“No no, just hypothetically. Like if someone walked into the room and handed you a contract and said that if you signed it in an hour then you’d be able to debut.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“What’s your gut feeling?”

“I think I left that dream behind, I don’t know if I want to go down that path again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says after another pause. “I shouldn’t have questioned you so much, you shouldn’t have to justify your decisions to me.”

“No, it’s fine. It seems strange, right? For me to be an artist in Seoul and not want to get signed, it's only natural for you to be curious. But I learned a lot when I was a trainee and I learned even more after that and I can say with certainty that this is what I want.”

Chan takes that opportunity to knock on the studio door and push it open.

“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, as if he wasn’t just eavesdropping on their conversation and purposely chose when to cut in. “Sorry, I’m a little bit late.”

“Hey, no problem man,” Hongjoong says. “We haven’t had a chance to do anything yet, so you’re right on time.”

“Good to see you,” you chime in. “I think this should be pretty quick so let’s get started!”

As you predicted, it doesn’t take long before a majority of the song is finished. Normally, Chan would be keen to stay involved until the very last detail is finalised, but he trusts you and at the end of this day, it’s Hongjoong’s song so he’s happy to give him the final say.

At the end of the session, Chan once again uses the opportunity to try to catch you alone. The two of you are side by side, packing your bags and Chan asks if you have any plans for the rest of the day. You confirm that you're available and Chan is about to suggest that the two of you take the time to catch up when Hongjoong interrupts.

“Oh, Y/n-ah,” he says. “I was actually hoping to get your input on something and I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier. Can you please stick around for a bit? Sorry, hyung.”

Hongjoong sounds so sincere that Chan almost doesn’t feel annoyed that he’s stealing all of your time and attention. Almost, because at the end of the day, Chan’s only human. Even though he knows he has no right to feel possessive over you, he can’t stop the petty jealousy that bubbles up inside of him. At this point, there’s no denying the emotion.

Just like the previous session, he leaves alone, heading directly to the studio. Hours later, his breath catches when he checks his phone and sees that you’ve texted him.

[Received - 8:04pm]

Channie-oppa~

[Received - 8:04pm]

This is Y/nnie

[Received - 8:05pm]

Sorry about earlier, I have a contract with KQ Entertainment and work comes first :/

[Received - 8:09pm]

But I’m free now! You still interested in catching up?

Chan stares at the messages until it feels like they’re burned into his retinas. Logically, he knew that you had his number, the two of you were in a group chat that Hongjoong had set up, but this was your first time messaging him privately. The first time you had reached out in years. A precious opportunity that he never thought that he would have. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He’s also shocked to see you texting so casually. Although the two of you have been comfortable in person, he wasn’t sure that it would translate to one-on-one conversation.

[Sent - 8:10pm]

Hey Y/n!

[Sent - 8:11pm]

No worries at all, I understand. I’m the same way too

[Sent - 8:13pm]

I still wanna meet up… but I’m all the way back in Gangdong-gu 😅 It’d be a bit of a trek for you if you're still at KQ

[Received - 8:13pm]

Gangdong-gu?

[Received - 8:14pm]

Ohh JYPE

[Received - 8:14pm]

My bad, forgot that you guys moved

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Yeahhh

[Sent - 8:15pm]

Headed straight back to the company after we were done, sorry

[Received - 8:18pm]

Well… If you’re willing to wait then I don’t mind. KQ is close to a metro station anyway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

Wait, really?

[Sent - 8:18pm]

No no no, don’t take the subway

[Sent - 8:18pm]

I’ll send a driver. They’re gonna pick you up in 20 min

[Received - 8:19pm]

Wowow

[Received - 8:19pm]

Private driver?

[Received - 8:20pm]

You’re a real superstar now haha

[Sent - 8:21pm]

alsfjshkafs noooooooo

[Sent - 8:21pm]

It’s just faster

[Sent - 8:21pm]

and safer

[Received - 8:22pm]

I’m not complaining

[Received - 8:22pm]

but I’m going to get your autograph when I see you

[Received - 8:23pm]

If I sell it then I can probably afford my own private driver 🤭

[Sent - 8:24pm]

Knew it

[Sent - 8:25pm]

You’re just using me for my fame

[Received - 8:26pm]

Ah you got me this time

[Received - 8:26pm]

*Your fame, your talent, and your good looks

[Received - 8:27pm]

Even tho you were the one that said you wanted to meet up

[Received - 8:27pm]

Hmmm maybe you’re the one using me?

Chan listens to his phone as it continues to vibrate from where it’s lodged in between two of the couch cushions after he threw it across to the opposite side of the room. His face is buried in his hands and flaming red. He feels both giddy and terribly embarrassed.

Chan’s no stranger to flirting, he’s experienced his fair share being on either side through interactions with the members and with Stay, but he forgot how flustered he was being on the receiving end of your teasing. The part he never understood is that your playful tone always gave way to sincerity. Even when the two of you would joke around, he could always tell that you meant every comment that you made about Chan being talented or attractive and that flattered him almost as much as it baffled him.

[Received - 8:32pm]

?? Speechless that I caught on?

[Received - 8:36pm]

I think your driver has arrived… Otherwise I’m being kidnapped

[Received - 8:40pm]

Don’t think I would survive a horror film… I got into the car with no questions asked

[Received - 8:42pm]

It was nice knowing you I guess

When he realises how much time has passed, Chan grabs his phone and runs down to the back entrance of the company. Luckily you haven’t arrived yet and he takes the time to reply to your messages.

[Sent - 8:53pm]

Sorry, lost track of time

[Sent - 8:53pm]

They’ll drop you off at the back door, I’ll meet you there so you don’t have to get signed in or anything

[Received - 8:54pm]

Don’t think you’re getting away with ignoring my other texts

[Received - 8:55pm]

But thanks

[Received - 8:55pm]

Is this back door, the famous one that only allows in authorised people?

[Received - 8:55pm]

I’m honoured

Chan rolls his eyes at your cheesy reference and is in the middle of typing up a response when he sees the car pull up. You step out cautiously, then brighten when you see where Chan’s propping up the door.

“Hey,” Chan greets you. “Glad that you made it safely.”

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, looking around curiously as Chan leads you to an elevator that takes you to the rest of the building. “So this is the new and improved JYP Entertainment. I’d say that it looks the same as before, but I never got the chance to come in.”

“Yeah,” Chan says, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he walks. “I mean it’s pretty nice, but at the end of the day a practice room is a practice room and that’s where we spend most of our time.”

“Hmm I think we might have to agree to disagree on that one. You have your own studio don’t you?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s technically a shared one, but practically I’m the only one that uses it unless we’re out of the country for a long time,” Chan confirms.

“Seems a lot better than what we used to have! Do you remember when we used to cram ourselves into that tiny room that barely even fit two chairs and a table?”

“I almost forgot about that, it was so terrible! In the summer it would get so hot that we’d keep the door open-”

“And then someone would come yell at us because we’d be playing music too loud-”

“I remember begging management to install a portable air conditioner on multiple occasions, but they always refused.”

“Of course! Even if they weren’t so stingy, there weren’t any windows leading outside in there, how could they install it?”

“Is that why? I always thought they just wanted us to suffer.”

“That too,” you giggle for a moment, before your smile fades. “But they weren’t totally unreasonable. Management has a different perspective than us, sometimes they know better than us because of their understanding of the industry. They can see things that we don’t.”

It’s clear that you’re no longer talking about air conditioning anymore. A lump seems to have formed in Chan’s throat when he recalls his conversation with Sana. Luckily, the two of you have just arrived and Chan forces himself to smile.

“We’re here,” he says, opening the door and motioning for you to enter ahead of him. “Welcome to Channie’s Room!”

“It’s cute!” you say as you step in. “Very… neat. It’s actually more spacious than it looks.”

“Oh,” Chan says, faltering in his steps for a second. “You- you’ve seen my studio?”

“In case you didn’t realise, you go live every week from said studio. I think at this point everyone in the K-pop industry and every K-pop fan has seen it,” you tease.

“Right, yeah. I didn’t- I wasn’t sure how much you kept up with that kind of stuff,” Chan stammers.

“K-pop or do you mean specifically Stray Kids?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Either I guess," Chan shrugs.

"I will admit that it took me a while to get back into it," you say slowly. "I wasn't... in the best mindset after I left." Chan stays quiet, sensing that you're not quite finished. "I know that I disappeared and I am sorry for not reaching out. I wanted to, but I also didn't know how. I know that I hurt you. That it was cruel to avoid you, not reply to your messages, ignore your calls. I had my reasons why, but it doesn't excuse the pain that I caused, and I'm sorry for that too."

“I think,” Chan swallows hard. “I think that the most difficult part was that for the longest time, I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I asked Sana about it finally, after I saw you again. And I just felt so stupid to realise that it was obvious to everyone except me."

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wanted to tell you, of course I wanted to. But I also knew you. If I had told you that us being together was preventing your debut-”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Chan finishes your sentence for you, starting to understand. “I would have done anything to keep you by my side.”

"Even if it meant throwing away your career," you say softly. "I couldn't let you do that to yourself. You worked so hard, how could I live with being the reason that you were stuck in the training rooms? You belong on stage, making music.”

"The part that I still don’t get though is why you left? You should have been able to debut as well, I know it."

“Ah,” you say wistfully. You look around and grab onto the pillow that’s on the couch beside you, fidgeting with it as you figure out what to say next. “You know, I actually was supposed to debut.”

“What? How come I never heard about it?” Chan feels a pang in his chest. All these years ago, the two of you had promised that the other would be the first person that they would tell if they ever found out that they had the chance to debut. It seemed that neither of them had kept their promise.

“It was supposed to be a secret project. JYP wanted to see how successful a surprise debut announcement would be. You should have seen the NDAs that they made us sign.” You shake your head, letting out a huff of air. “It turned out to be a good decision because it meant they could cancel it without anyone knowing that we existed in the first place.”

"Who was in the group?" Chan asks.

"There were five of us. I think you know all of them, Sumin, Ryujin, Sojin, and Hyowon," you list. You're right, Chan is either familiar with or has heard of all the girls that you mention. It doesn't make sense though, the group was filled with talented individuals and Chan can't think of any reason strong enough to lead to disbandment. Even more baffling is that of the five of you, only Ryujin ended up staying at the company long enough to join the lineup for another group.

"And they just cancelled it out of nowhere?"

“No... It was- I know that for any idol, preparing for debut is tough, but I think that in some ways, it’s especially brutal for the girl groups," you say instead. Chan doesn't question you further, knowing that you must have a point that you're trying to make.

“How so?” Chan has an idea, he’s seen what the female trainees went through, the differences in how they were evaluated and criticised. But he wants to hear it from you, wants to understand what you’ve been through.

“The visual aspect feels like it’s more heavily emphasised than our talent or skills. We were measured for our music video outfits the second they finalised the concept. It was really early on, but at the time I thought it was so exciting and fun that I didn’t question it. I think that all of us were so thrilled by the thought of debuting that we didn't think anything of it. We did our final fittings for it a few weeks before filming and they had made them all a size too small, everything was just a little bit too tight. They didn’t outright say it, but it was implied that they weren’t going to alter them. It was a choice to lose weight or our chance to debut was gone. We were devastated and angry and eventually just resigned. If that's what it took then I would do it. We dieted like crazy for the time leading up to filming,” you laugh, but it's in disbelief, the sound is hollow.

Paired with what you’re saying, it makes Chan want to burn the whole world down. He doesn't say anything, not sure if he can even open his mouth without letting his rage escape, something that you don't deserve.

“We were practising, like always," you continue. "There was a tricky step that needed to be fixed by the next day when we’d be recording, a flip that we hadn't quite mastered. I was the smallest one on the team, so I was the one being flipped. It must have been like 3 or 4 in the morning, we were all tired, hungry, and nervous about filming. Honestly, I don't quite remember what happened, it was all a blur. There was just this feeling that something went wrong and then pain."

You roll up the pants on your left leg and show off the skin there. Chan has to hold back a gasp at the sight. Even though it’s long healed, the scarring is extensive and obvious. Chan can't imagine how much it must have hurt.

“I broke my ankle in two places and sprained my wrist. I couldn't believe it, five years of my life just gone in an instant. It took months before I could walk and even longer before I could dance again. Even now, I can't dance anywhere close to the way that I used to," you say with a watery smile. “Sojinnie had a concussion from the fall and Suminnie dislocated her shoulder, I must have knocked into them or fallen onto them or something. What could we do? Three out of the five of us were out of commission, there was no time and no budget for a group that hadn’t even debuted to find replacements or re-record and re-film everything. I woke up after surgery and they told me that they were sorry, but my contract with the company was over. That someone had helped me pack up all my things in the dorm. I went back to Jeju-do as soon as I was released from the hospital.”

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't know," Chan says, clearing his throat roughly when his voice breaks partway through the sentence. " I wish that I could have been there, to help or comfort you. I should have-"

"Oppa," you respond gently. "It's okay. I didn't tell anybody what happened and the company also kept things quiet. I'm glad you didn't find out at the time. You had other, more important things to focus on, I didn't want to distract you from that."

"You're not a distraction," Chan says incredulously. "You're important to me, I would have dropped everything to be with you in such a difficult time."

"And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You've always been too good to me, Channie-oppa," you sniffle. "Look at you now! I'm so always proud when I think of how far you've come."

Chan lifts a trembling hand and carefully cups your face, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that has started making its way down your cheek. He hears your breathing hitch, but you don't object to his touch. If anything, you melt into it.

Chan takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, bringing you close. The gesture breaks the dam of tears that you must have been holding back. Chan rocks the two of you back and forth gently, just letting you cry and trying to surreptitiously wipe away his own tears. It takes a few minutes before you calm, taking huge shuddering breaths that break Chan's heart almost as much as your sobs had.

"I'm sorry," you say with a voice thick with emotion.

"Hey, no," Chan reassures you. "There's no need to apologise. Are you feeling better now?"

You nod slowly, head still pressed against Chan's chest.

"I think- I think I just missed you. I always thought it would get easier, not having you in my life, but it never did."

At your words, Chan can't help his arms from tightening, squeezing you close.

"I finally found you again," he says. "And this time, I promise that I won't ever let you go."

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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james-bucky-barnackle · 4 months ago

Text

Froyo

Synopsis: During a premiere red carpet with Drew, an interviewer’s question accidentally reveals that a seemingly ordinary dinner was actually Drew’s attempt at a first date covered by two random tiktoks. Pairing: Drew Starkey x Actress!Reader Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count A/N: I know I still owe you guys a Gwayne Hightower fanfic, but the chokehold Drew fucking Starkey has on me is insane. btw, I realized this is the second time I've created a fic based on real people vs the normal Marvel character thingy I do. And to be honest, there's gonna be a lot more... so maybe I should make this a series considering they're all triggered by an interview and Y/N's always an actress lol. ALSO at the end, there's a poll on what you think should happen next, and best believe I'll do my best to write that.

There’s an edit circulating on TikTok of you and your co-star Drew Starkey from your red carpet interview together. You’re both starring in an Amazon limited series about college classmates who become close after witnessing your professor’s murder and are now on a shared mission to solve the crime. You’ve known him closely for a year now, but have been following his career even before that. I mean, who wouldn’t? The man is gorgeous. But of course, you couldn’t let him know that.

As shooting began, the two of you grew closer, and you decided to be professional and put that whole fascination aside. You’ve both even dated other actors and celebrities, which have also been topics for gossip channels and paparazzi photos. Despite all that, you’ve hung out plenty, mostly in groups but also during breaks in filming—often grabbing lunch and coffee together.

Today, you and Drew are laughing as you finally see the edit that’s been at the top of both your PR’s nightmare list.

You’re dressed in an elegant beige gown, skin-tight and slightly sheer, which Carrie Bradshaw would definitely call the naked dress. Your hair is pulled back in a low bun, bangs effortlessly framing your face. You’ve just arrived at the red carpet, taking your time to chat with interviewers. The first few questions are light, mostly about how fun it was working on set and, of course, what you're wearing.

After a few minutes, Drew catches up to you. He’s in a baby blue suit, sepia shades covering his eyes, smelling incredible. His presence is like a tight, warm hug—well, a little tighter on your chest. His voice sends tingles down your spine as he whispers, one hand casually placed on the small of your back.

“What did I miss?” He smiles at you and the interviewer.

“Oh, nothing much, I was just telling Amelia how you’re always late to everything.” You smirk, shooting a playful look at the camera. Amelia, your interviewer, raises her eyebrows dramatically, playing along. Both of you laugh as Drew backs away, feigning offense.

“I’ve been here since like—” He starts to defend himself.

“Like five minutes ago,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Valid,” he agrees with a shrug, laughing.

Amelia continues her interview, moving on to ask about the possibility of a second season.

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to do a second season, for sure,” you nod, glancing at Drew, who’s nodding along, letting you take the lead. “But I’m not sure if it makes sense, since it was originally written as a one-season story. For that to happen, someone might have to die again so Kelsea and James can investigate something new.”

Kelsea and James are the names of the characters you play—who, of course, end up dating on the show.

“So you’re saying someone has to die for the two of you to get back together on set?” Amelia jokes, her deadpan delivery only making it funnier.

“I mean, I don’t know!” You laugh. “You’re twisting my words, Amelia!”

“I honestly think you just don’t want to hang out with me anymore, Y/N,” Drew chimes in, a playful pout on his face. “I’m hurt.”

“Is that why there wasn’t a second date?” Amelia asks, teasingly. Her tone is light, but the question lands hard. Drew’s eyes widen in surprise, his smile freezing as if even he didn’t see that one coming. He covers his mouth, trying not to laugh while you stand there, looking utterly confused.

“Second date? What?” You laugh, trying to figure out if this is some sort of red carpet joke you weren’t briefed on. You glance at Drew, who’s just shaking his head, still grinning but not offering any explanations.

You lower your voice, leaning towards him, “What is she—what date?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to maintain your cool, though the confusion is clearly written all over your face. Drew glances at Amelia, then back at you, and you can tell he feels a little bad now.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of awkward silence, Drew admits, “When we got dinner and froyo.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes you a second to process.

“That was a date?!” you whisper-yell, smacking his arm, your jaw practically hitting the floor. “You said it was just dinner!”

“I know!” Drew laughs, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I said that because I thought you didn’t like me back! I was sending out signals!”

“What signals?” you ask, still reeling from the shock. “That’s unfair, you said it was just dinner! I feel so bad—I didn’t know!” You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it apologetically. You’re both laughing now, but you’re also genuinely flustered.

“I did tell you!” Drew protests. “I said, ‘Do you want to have dinner with me?’ And you were like, ‘Are we bringing Madz along?’ And when I said no, you were like, ‘Why?’”

“That is not enough, Drew!” You laugh, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your PR team is probably dying, but at least this little moment might boost some publicity for the show. You actually remember the video Amelia might be referring to; your assistant had sent it to you a few months back. You found it interesting and even funny because you honestly thought it was just a fan shipping the two of you together—cutting together videos and photos of you and Drew when you were out to eat. You try to recall what that day was like and pick apart whatever signals Drew was referring to, but you really can’t remember anything different from the way he’s interacted with you since you two first met.

You realize the gag has gone on long enough and decide to wrap it up before the awkwardness can escalate further.

“Amelia, I’m so sorry about this,” you say with a dramatic sigh, trying to regain your composure. “Even while confessing his undying love for me, he’s still late. Men, what can you do?”

Drew, still chuckling, wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of apologizing. You feel a warmth settle over you, even as your mind is still catching up to everything.

The camera flashes pop around you, and suddenly, those TikTok edits of you looking perpetually confused start to make a little more sense.

When the premiere starts, halfway through the screening, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You check your makeup, but instead of heading straight back to the theater, you decide to take a moment. The whole "date reveal" situation has thrown you off more than you realized, and you need a second to process it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, replaying the interview in your head. You haven't had the chance to talk to Drew about it since, and the thought lingers in the back of your mind. You don’t want another clueless moment to make it into the tabloids.

You wash your hands, fix your makeup, and prepare to head back out. But as you step through the door, you see Drew standing there, waiting.

“Well, look who it is—the jokester,” you say, crossing your arms with a mock grin. “Here to ask me out on another one-sided date?”

Drew smirks, stepping closer. “Huh? What are you talking about? I’m just here to pee,” he teases, nudging your shoulder.

“Not funny,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but feeling a smile tug at the corner of your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” His smile softens, and for the first time since the red carpet, you can tell he actually feels a little guilty. “I really am.”

“You should be!” You huff, but your tone is playful now, your annoyance melting away as you meet his eyes. "That was so long ago."

Drew takes a step closer, and you suddenly become very aware of the quietness around you. It’s just the two of you now, the noise of the premiere distant, almost forgotten. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N…” He hesitates, like he’s trying to find the right words. “About that second date…”

“You mean actual first date?” you correct him, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep your cool.

Drew pauses, then chuckles softly. “Yeah,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Actual first date. What do you think?”

You stare at him, caught off guard. You weren’t expecting him to just put it out there like that. His easygoing nature usually means he hides behind jokes or avoids direct confrontation. But now, with no cameras, no noise—just you and him—he’s being sincere.

“You know,” you say, your voice quieter now, “if you made it clear the first time, I still would’ve said yes.”

Drew’s eyes widen slightly, and a smile slowly spreads across his face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. “Really.”

His grin widens, and there’s something boyishly excited about it, like you’ve just given him the best news of the day. “No froyo this time, I promise.”

“Good,” you laugh. “Because that wasn’t a date.”

“Duly noted.” He steps closer, his hand brushing yours, and this time it doesn’t feel accidental. His fingers curl around yours lightly, the touch sending a spark through you.

“You know, we could leave early,” he suggests, glancing back towards the theater. “Skip the rest of the screening, maybe grab some dinner… somewhere where I make it clear it’s a date.”

You bite your lip, considering it, but your eyes narrow playfully. “And deal with the wrath of our PR teams later? You must love living dangerously.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You make a good point. But I promise, after all the photos, after all the interviews... we’ll do this right.”

You nod, smiling at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, you both walk back into the theater. His hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before he finally lets go, and even as you take your seats for the rest of the screening, the air between you has changed.

You glance at him once more, feeling that familiar warmth return, only this time, it’s not confusing or awkward.

The noise of the film dims around you, though you’re still hyper-aware of the room, the hundreds of eyes on the screen, and the occasional flash from the press in the back. Drew leans back in his seat, arms crossed loosely, but he’s not watching the movie either. Instead, he looks over at you, catching your eye.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you quickly face forward, pretending to focus on the movie. But then, from the corner of your vision, you feel him move slightly closer. The tension that was always there, that you’d pushed aside so many times, is undeniable now.

After the premiere ends, there’s the usual round of applause and the hum of people slowly rising to leave. Drew stands up first, offering you his hand, and even though you can stand up just fine on your own, you take it. There’s something about that gesture that feels significant—like you’ve crossed a line you didn’t realize you were approaching until now.

You’re both still in work mode, nodding and smiling at the industry people you pass, but the moment you’re outside, the cool night air hitting your face, Drew turns to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Alright,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “How do you feel about grabbing that dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard by how fast he’s moving. “Tonight? We just got out of the premiere,” you laugh, though there’s excitement bubbling under the surface. “I know, but if I wait any longer, who knows what crazy schedules we’ll get caught up in again.” He steps closer, his smile genuine, warm. “I’ve waited this long to actually do it right. What’s a few more hours?"

“Alright,” you say, a grin breaking through. “Let’s do it. Dinner—our actual first date.”

His eyes light up. “Great. I know a place.”

The restaurant Drew takes you to is tucked away, quiet and intimate, and you laugh at how quaint it is, most of the other diners are old enough to be your grandparents. You feel comfort knowing most of them don't have phones let alone know who the both of you are. For all they care, you could be two kids coming home from a costume party just ending the night with a bite.

“So,” you say as you both sit down, menus in hand but neither of you really looking at them. “This is what a proper date feels like, huh?”

Drew leans back in his chair, grinning. “Better than froyo, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Significantly better.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, the kind where you both just look at each other and realize this is happening—really happening. You’re on a date with Drew, and it’s not some PR stunt or a casual hangout. It’s real. And for the first time, you’re letting yourself want it. "You think they're wondering why we're over dressed?" You hide behind a menu. "Overdressed? Excuse me? This is what I wear everyday." Drew retorts, making you chortle.

“So,” you say, resting your chin on your hand, “What’s the plan after this? Froyo?”

Drew chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

He grins, eyes glinting with that same playful energy you’ve always liked. “Well, I’ll make sure tonight’s memorable enough that it overshadows that.”

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haztory · 5 months ago

Text

a matter of principles

— diluc ragnvindr x f!reader; arranged marriages, best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, miscommunication trope, unrequited/requited love, lots of angst, fluff ending, she/her pronouns

— word count: 24k

— photo source: freminent hearth’s screenshot from hoyolab

— summary: Arranged marriages, Diluc finds, are the most atrocious of practices that Liyue has ever had the audacity to uphold in their commitment to contracts. Very much a Monstadt originated belief, but a sure one, he thinks. He heaves a breath, one that shudders at the slow cracking of his ribs and heart. “Surely, you don’t want me to make the decision for you?” “No… but advice would be welcome.” You say. “Fine.” He settles into his seat, noting with little amusement that he suddenly can’t get comfortable anymore, “Tell me.”

Prologue:

The number of friends Diluc has is often a point of teasing by many a drunkard who enter into Angel's Share. And while the banter would usually earn a simple glare and a cutting off of the drink, its lack of an answer has caused quite the festering of gossip in the tavern. Everynight it seems, whether the man is there or not, Diluc's social life becomes a topic of conversation.

Pestered and prodded upon with surgical precision, both in day and night. Names are thrown out, each person wondering if said individual would be considered a friend to Diluc, or even an acquaintance. And while Diluc would never outwardly venture forth to call a Knight of Favonius a friend, his lack of denial does little more than stir the flames higher.

Jean must be a friend, right? A reliable confidant, at least.

One did see Diluc conversing rather animatedly with Barbara at the Springvale Seasonal Gathering.

What about Kaeya? someone asks only to meet the unanimous and vehement shake of heads.

It isn't until Venti pries just enough that the answer is revealed.

"One," Diluc says with a sigh, wiping a glass down with a white rag and beyond tired of being the subject of this routine conversation. "I have one friend."

The whole tavern is suspended in silence, each member looking at one another with unsatisfied curiosity, silently nudging the other forward. All begging for the one question to be asked.

Until Venti takes the bait, "Who?!"

—

Diluc knows of you, in parts.

Remembers the separate fragments that make up the great whole of you— each moment stained in the wonderful tint of happiness, fitting together like a masterful mosaic that he pedestalizes in his head. Yellows, and pinks, and warmth spreading across his mind, all from you.

He remembers you in childhood, in the middle years, in the now; He reminisces on the happy parts of you and him, wistfully smiles at the sad ones, finds himself lost in thought at the great constellation of scattered fragments.

A child in the customary Mondstadtian colors of white and black, and another in the Liyue garments of dark reds and oranges, fretting across the span of closed eyelids and reliving the joyous memories.

He would never outwardly admit that you take up the great measure of his thoughts, but when he finds his gaze fixated on the flames of the dancing fire in his study, business ledgers strewn on his desk and exhaustion nigh, the colors ring eerily familiar and he swears, swears, that in the crackle of the wood that Adelinde has started, he hears a laugh oddly similar to yours ringing throughout the room; Sees your figure dancing in the swirling and heightening flames. As quick as he sees it, does it disappear. Embers crackling and images fading in the instant and it is then that he does come to terms with the circumstances at hand.

A friend he still considers you to be. One of the greatest to him. He isn't sure if the sentiment is reciprocated much these days as fall turns to winter; Oranges turn to white, liveliness turns to barren and with it, the fate of your treasured friendship.

His one and only.

Interlude: Fall

The friendship began before Diluc’s impeccable memory began to serve him.

An introduction through family, as all friendships are at such a tender age. Your father, one of the biggest exporting merchants in Liyue struck a good enough agreement with Diluc’s own about wine exporting to warrant a warm and frequent visit between the two businessmen, the children tagging along as all children do.

It wasn’t an immediate kindling, but one in the making, as the more he saw of you the more he grew to you and you to him. Friends, eventually; Playing in between the vineyards of Dawn Winery or exploring the cabins of your father’s ships while your respective handmaidens shouted and begged for your return. While his brother, a shadow of blue, followed close on your tails.

To no avail; Wherever it was that you wished to run to, it was hard to get Diluc to change his mind and do anything but follow you— stubborn, he is and was to a fault.

Even as the working relationship between your fathers’ came to an end with the death of Diluc’s, there were always the brief moments facilitated by the strength of the surviving bond itself. Letters and gifts, planned visits, ears attuned and pressed to the ground for rumors holding each of your names that crossed nations. The most entertaining of which being a whisper he heard during his time as a Favonius Knight as he patrolled the pathways right before Wuwang Hill, two elder women in their travels whispering of the esteemed Liyue merchant’s daughter finally receiving a vision!

Diluc, in that tender age in which he had hardly learned that the best way to learn details was to listen without looking, all but stared at these women— awaiting their tales. He soon discovered, just before being reprimanded by the two traveling passerbys, that you were suddenly granted the gift from the gods in the form of the Vision of Hydro.

A neatly written letter from you arrived in no less that one week after his hurried and hastily written one to you that would reveal that falsity behind the rumor. That you weren’t by any means gifted with such a vision, nor would you be granted one soon. It wasn’t in your nature, you wrote.

‘And how terribly offensive of you to think that the grannies of Liyue would soon learn of my gifts before you! For that transgression alone I will heartily withhold the details of my recent mythical learnings from my visit to Mount Hulao. That will certainly teach you.’

(The shame he felt was unlike anything he’s ever felt before, shame in being so invasive, but a subsequent visit from you a few months later would quickly quell such feelings. The sight of your smile and the sweet fragrance of you being more than enough to tame that which runs rampant within the flames of Diluc.)

There has never been a moment in which you weren’t at the forefront of his consideration; Of his time.

A friend, Diluc considers you to be— one of his most trusted.

You’ve arrived at his home today, the second week of the Fall season and the height of the vineyard sales, in what seems to be the finest carriage in all of Liyue— no spared expense for the only daughter of a wealthy Liyue merchant.

Diluc meets you at the end of the path trailing to his manor, a small smile on his face as he opens the door to your cabin and holds a hand out for you to step down with. Tendril of his red hair swaying with the breeze that has suddenly been brought forth on this day, no doubt by your arrival.

Elzer and Hartman are already at the back of the carriage, unloading your bags with smiles on their faces.

You take his hand, white silk gloves in his black leather ones, grip tight as his own and he feels the reflection of his own longing and deep yearning become electrified in the meeting of your palms. A feeling he swears must also plague you, one he only feels more compelled upon when you step down with the warmest of grips of your hand in his and the warmest of glints in your eyes.

An enchanting one, a sight Diluc can hardly tear his own practiced measured gaze from.

“Diluc,” You breathe out, grin erupting into a toothy one, voice airy and light and horribly, horribly, wonderful to hear after so long. The both of you are older now, clearly, in the way that he is no longer part of the Knights of Favonius, but the owner of Dawn Winery and you are no longer just learning the ropes to your father’s business but the actualized Ambassador to his overseas ventures. Seasoned and traveled, twenty-eight and twenty-five, adults still smiling at one another like children.

He says your name just as breathily as you have uttered his, followed with a gentle bow of his head.

“I hope you didn’t mind the late notice of arrival. This is all incredibly sudden and I’m terribly sorry for that. ” Your smile is overly apologetic, and Diluc scoffs. Come rain or shine, planned or otherwise, Diluc could never mind an appearance from you and you should know as much. Would be horribly blind if you didn’t. Diluc had less than a day of preparation for your arrival and yet Dawn Winery was ushered upright and ready for you by the pull of one thread by its master.

“Of course not,” He says. Mind, he never does, yet with his measured and calm tone, he cannot deny the fact that the abruptness of your visit and short notice itches within him. Something that, try as he might, he cannot scratch.

That nagging detail is quickly quieted by the latent realization that your hand has yet to let go of his, and, he begins to note, the danger of the creeping truth in the fact that he doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, he relishes it.

“Dawn Winery is always delighted to welcome you home, Ambassador.”

You smile brighter at both the sentiment and the title, if such a task was even possible. Warmth of the grin rivaling the rivulets of the sun, more blinding than the dazzling glow of cor lapis. The exact stone that sits on the corner of his desk after all these years and often finds itself the object of his fixation many an afternoon.

“I am glad to be home.” You respond in kind, a gem of amber brilliantly shining through the words and it takes every ounce of Diluc to return his attention away from your smile to the task at hand of guiding you into the home. His home.

Your home.

But he does, with the lightest of curls on his lips that he doesn’t even realize has made permanent residence upon his face now.

—

It is always a reunion when you manage to grace Dawn Winery with your appearance.

Adelinde shines with a smile that seems endless as she steps towards you in a warm embrace, a dramatic turn around from her very pointed sighs that are usually targeted towards the master of the house. Elzer is much the same, the older man alight with a jovial sparkle as he greets you, taking your bags in his hands without a second thought, and eagerly engages in conversations of matters other than business with you— a renowned feat that even the most skilled of conversationalists find hard to accomplish with the graying businessman.

Diluc, the master of the house and employer to his affable attendants, is all but pushed to the side the minute you’ve stepped foot into the threshold of the door, the congenial and loving welcoming imparted upon you in great Mondstadtian manner.

“Welcome back, dearest!” Adelinde exclaims, propriety thrown out in favor of obvious affection as she throws her arms around your shoulders and squeezes. “It is so wonderful to have you back. It’s been too long!”

“I have missed you greatly, Adelinde.” You say in kind, the same excitement and candor laced in the breathless laugh you exhale as the older woman smothers you in her embrace, swaying from side to side.

The head mistress all but shakes you vigorously when she pulls away from you, holding your shoulders in her hands as she addresses you. Mother henning instilled in the widening of her eyes.

“Have you eaten? Surely you must be hungry after such a journey to us. Come! I’ll prepare something for you. A Northern Apple Stew, perhaps? Or Sweet Madame! You were quite fond of that one last time!”

“Adelinde, please.” Elzer cuts in before either you or the neglected Diluc are able to intervene, a quiet scolding in his tone, “Let our guest breathe the air of nostalgia for just a moment rather than drown in the overwhelming one you are no doubt suffocating her in.”

He turns to you, bags in hand and a crooked elbow held out for you to grab. Gently smiling, “Come, my dear. We shall unpack and get you settled before Adelinde stuffs you to the brim with food and endless questions.”

Scoffing, Adelinde all but throws her hands down, slapping her palms against her apron-cladded thighs. “Oh, Elzer, how can you send a guest to their room on an empty stomach? After such a long journey, too! Liyue is a whole nation away and yet you would rather enslave her to the schemes of chores than a proper meal. Have you no shame?”

“I ask only for a moment, my dear Adelinde. If you can not even spare to be parted for one, then I must beg you to reconsider who should be shamed.”

And so begins the low clamor of a bickered argument, the two keepers of the manor diverting their devotions towards each other as they nip and poke at the other on the best way to treat you, their beloved guest. A frequent occurrence— exhausting, nonetheless. A look is shared between you and Diluc, one of annoyance from him and only pure amusement from you, that of which, turns Diluc’s own sour look into one of less acidity.

“Actually,” Diluc clears his throat, silencing the boiling argument. Your own delighted gaze darts to him in captured attention alongside the two head attendants of the house. Diluc folds his arms behind his back and gazes at his onlookers with little more than happy indignation— a feat only manageable by the likes of him. “Dinner preparations for our esteemed guest will be handled by me. I will also be seeing to the arrangements of the Ambassador's room, for old times sake. You both are dismissed for the evening.”

If life were a comedy, you were sure that this moment would be met with a thunderous roar of laughter. Elzer and Adelinde stare owlishly at Diluc, mouths open in stunned stupor as they stand almost a hair’s width apart, their fueled arguments replaced with something else entirely. Something more… bewildered.

“You… sir?” Elzer asks after a beat— a long, awaiting beat.

“Cook?” Adelinde follows, her voice raising in octaves as she takes in the master of the house, the boy she has raised.

Diluc rolls his eyes, “I manage a tavern, Adelinde. I can cook.”

“But can you cook… well?” Elzer questions after sparing a side glance to the graying woman.

“In all my years,” Adelinde mutters, more to herself than anyone, “I have never seen you cook, much less know where the kitchen even is—”

“Yes, that’s quite enough, thank you.” Diluc interrupts, eyes of garnet turned to slits, “You both have been of great help to us this afternoon, but I think it best we let our guest settle.”

“Well, if you’re interested in expelling yourself to such lengths for this arrival, maybe you would be interested in seeing to the manor’s gutters?” Elzer says with a knowing look and a teasing tone as Adelinde hides her laugh with a cough. “Now that you’re doing things you’ve never done before—”

Diluc’s eye twitches.

“You both are dismissed.” He hisses, but neither attendant takes much offense to it. Instead, they only let the playfulness of their smiles broaden on their faces. Their heads downward in acknowledgement to both you and the master of the house before exiting as prompted.

It isn’t until the sound of the door closing behind you two in the great entrance hall of the manor that the vibrant echoes of your laugh finally resound around the room. Diluc is quick on his heels to turn to you and point a finger in your face, a sternness to his voice and a furrow to his brow. Quick to halt the teasing before it begins.

“I will be pressed to remind you—”

And yet—

“Dinner?” You howl, and the sigh that escapes Diluc is enormous. Not that you could hear it, what with the volume of your fervent giggles masking it. He tuts, crossing his arms over his chest and watching with well-tempered amusement as you practically fold in half at the waist in laughter.

“Don’t flatter yourself. This is hardly out of the ordinary.”

“That is not what Adelinde says.”

“Adelinde does not know of my late night eating habits.”

“I would wager a guess to say that she knows more about you than either of us do.” As your laughter begins to peter out, you lift a finger to your eye to wipe a stray tear. “What is the occasion, my dearest Diluc?”

“Your arrival.”

You scoff, “I’ve arrived many times before and you’ve never demanded to cook for me.”

“I hardly demanded—”

“Insisted, then.”

“Then, there is no occasion. Only my wish to do so.” He says neutrally, hardly a rise or fall to his tone of voice as he says the words, but maybe that’s the tell all on its own. He doesn’t need the rhyme or reason in order to do as he’s never done before— no special date, no pertinent news needing to be shared.

Only ever really needs—

Your smile widens tenfold and you shake your head at the man before you. You're removing your gloves, finger by finger, then throwing them haphazardly onto the great dining room table that has been host to many of your great laughing fits. Hands of great elegance are revealed and soon placed onto your hips as you stand in the middle of his open foyer.

He should take offense to the gesture— should at least reprimand you for the lackadaisical way in which you make yourself at home. Prim and proper Diluc should not at all condone any kind of reckless behavior, especially in his own manor, but he hardly minds. Only huffs a breath through his nose at the sight of the gloves that now sit on the mahogany. The soft white of the fabric a stark, yet pleasant, contrast to the dark wood.

You stare at him, a slight shake to your head and the knowing smile on your face. “Well then, I shall insist that you allow me to be your sous-chef and assist you. Archons above know you Mondstadtians could benefit from some more spices in your life.”

You turn on your heel, leaving the great hall lined with the portraits of his family, of the great arts and literatures of Mondstadt, and enter into the kitchen held off to the right side of the manor.

The great entryway is one that he’s seen many times before, yet derives little comfort from. It’s a farce, of sorts. A living mausoleum of all that was and all that could have been, left to him to haunt the halls with. He’s confided this to you before, many years ago when it was too late to be called night yet too early for morning. Detailed it to you over the slow heat of a dying fire and the steady pace of a chess game, with your rook creeping eerily onto his knight, he confessed how much he hates the darkness of his home. How trapped he feels in it at times, how despite the many candles he lights, and the windows that Adelinde cracks open, it always feels cold.

Funny that, he had said, a pyro-user lying frigid in his own home.

Does it ever not feel cold? You had asked curiously, softly, genuinely vying for the answer. Orange hue of the fire lighting the side of your face as you studied him.

When you enter the dark manor with dark hardwood walls, and dark curtains this time, just as the many times before, you glow. Bring indescribable life to the empty home that only awakens upon notice of your incoming arrival— stays awake as you float from room to room, knowing the home as it is your own, and lay pieces of you across random surfaces.

Shining, effervescent cor lapis in the great abyss of this manor.

Sometimes, Diluc remembers responding quietly. Engrained even further, he remembers the gleam of the smile you gave him as it's the same smile he receives now. The one thrown over your shoulder as you prance forward into the kitchen, another tease rolling off of your tongue.

“I offer my home and my services to you, and get repaid in insults?” He finally speaks after willing his tongue to renew itself from sludge to form words, a false scoff in his tone. His feet follow behind you, spurred on by the geniality of a core memory as you pad across the tiled floor and wash your hands within the basin.

“A helpful tip!” You rejoice, “Seeing as you’ve suddenly decided that today was the day for cooking—”

“I have a penchant for burning things, you know.” It’s a thinly veiled threat, one that falls flat as you both meet eyes.

You smirk, “All the more reason to let me assist.”

“You are a great nuisance, Ambassador.” He says, discarding his coat to the side and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, left then right, almost missing the fixating of your eyes on his newly revealed skin, and how quickly you avert your eyes; Face contorting into a quiet scold. As though you were punishing yourself for indulging, for losing propriety in just glancing.

He should enjoy it, find delight that you find the muscles that have been earned through years of claymore wielding strength and battles to be admirable— but something mirs your tone immediately after. Something secret, solemn. A slight twinge that no one but him would catch, would understand to know that something was amiss.

Quickly, you grab a handful of vegetables from a box placed on the rack against the wall and bring them to the basin to wash. Potatoes and carrots galore.

You forcibly smile, “Oh, you love it.”

The itch flares tenfold.

—

Barbatos Ratatouille takes approximately four hours to make. It’s a slow cook, the lengthiest portion of its preparation being the time needed for it to remain covered on the stove on low heat. However, the most arduous part of the meal is the design of it. Not necessarily due to difficulty, but in the way that the carrots must be thinly sliced and laid in proximity to the cubed potatoes and strips—decorated to perfection. It’s halfway between a stew and a casserole, but alive with flavor as it simmers on a low boil.

A herculean dish, an amateur culinarian’s nightmare; Diluc’s personal choice for your arrival.

Truthfully, he should’ve begun the meal before you arrived—should’ve had it ready for when you entered the manor. But, with the dish on the stove and three hours to kill, the suggestion of a walk around the winery as a means of relaxation and much needed catching up is hardly punishment for his error. Even though you have already been chatting throughout the duration of your meal preparation, discussing nearly everything and anything that comes to mind.

But, you both reason, there is much he must show you.

The sun sits just above the horizon as you exit the manor, the great sky of orange and pinks lulling you both into a gradual and steady trot down the paths of the winery. Through the greens of growing grapes, he walks to the right of you, pointing to the items that have been updated since your last visit. Namely, the irrigation system to the vineyards. The slow and onerous move from a drip irrigation to one of a pumping unit handcrafted by Wagner located a few miles behind the manor. A hassle to craft, install, and maintain, he tells you with a tired smile, but a necessary venture for productivity.

It reminds you to recount the traditional manner of tempered inundation that you witnessed when you finally obtained traveling papers to Inazuma. Farmers cultivating their crops to the cycle of the rivers, relying solely on its seasonal rise and fall to serve as a means of irrigation.

“And what happens when the rivers eventually decide to break tradition and flood?” Diluc asks with dumb amusement as your conversation leads you down the path that turns to gravel, winding away from the vineyards and down towards the lake. He means it as a rhetorical question, knowing in both science and anecdotal evidence nature makes a great fool of prediction.

A large rock obstructs the pathway, and while it doesn’t take much effort to climb over it, he nevertheless holds his hand out in assistance. Nevermind the fact that this trail and this particular rock is one that you and he have taken many times before, one that you are fully aware that contains a rocky terrain as you walk nearer towards the body of water, and yet, ever the gentleman he is as he offers his assistance, you take his hand.

“Inazuma is the land of eternity.” You tell him succinctly, “They would be more pressed to believe that the world would end before the land and its dutiful Shogun would disrupt tradition and predictability.” You step over the large rock with great ease. Diluc makes sure of it.

“How archaic.” Diluc mutters once he knows your feet are on stable ground once more. You shake your head with a smile.

“That is only a matter of perspective. To Mondstadt, it is limited. To Inazuma, it is nature.”

Diluc only hums, his eyes narrow as carmine irises dart across your face. Any opinion of the idea, if you even had one, is imperceptible. Hidden carefully behind a neutral gaze and the generality of your statement. Trained, you are, to be as open and peaceful with any and all walks of life. Barbatos knows Diluc would hardly be able to bite his tongue with something he strictly disapproved of.

“Born and bred for the role of Ambassador. I would've offended a whole nation if I were in your shoes.”

“Nonsense,” You smile as you link your arm with his, hand holding onto his bicep as you both resume your trek to the waters, “I think you would make for a wonderful advocate for the people. You are tough and unmoving. The kind of person everyone would be lucky to have on their side.”

He says nothing more to that, content to let the conversation die and allow nature to become the fixation of your thoughts.

Compliments have never rendered well for the likes of Diluc. He knows too much about himself, of his nature, of his own beliefs, of all that he has done to ever be convinced by another that he is at all a good man. Especially on the basis of one’s words.

They never mean much anyway. Words are never strong enough to be binding; They are the buffer between hope and disappointment, and oftentimes find themselves leaning to one side more than the other. It is why he never makes promises he cannot keep, it is why he hardly believes in things that come from another’s mouth unless he himself has experienced it. The sting of old promises and their frosted bite are too ingrained within Diluc to compromise on.

Add that to one of many things Diluc knows to be true of himself.

He is too prideful, too stubborn, too controlling, too set in his ways to believe in anything other than what he knows to be true about himself and the world. He is the stark contrast to you, and, not for the first time, he wonders how a friendship of such strength could remain when he burns too bright and you—oh, you—

Where you are amenable and compromising, he is rigid and sure; Where you are appeasing and complimenting, he is static and blunt. He does not care for the pleasantries as you do when he doesn’t feel them warranted. He’s entirely sure, as sure as the sun that sets every day and as resolute as you are on the charm of cor lapis, that he would make for a horrible dignitary considering how opposite of you he is and how well you fit into the role.

But… the way that you say it. The way that the statement rolls of your tongue with hardly a second thought, the way that you seemed assured of his nature as though it were truth— the way that you seem to believe him an honorable man despite being worldly traveled and knowing many of many honorable people—

Gravel turns to sand and a quick glance your ways reveals the brightening of a smile as you both near the lake and all the tumultuous thoughts, the internal fight over the slightest of compliments and the need to extract the lies from the truth within them, silences as he looks to you.

Diluc burns, and he burns bright, and you extinguish the flames of him that itch and ache to hurt. This isn’t a new realization, but it is a staunch one as it hammers away at the walls of his mind and heart.

Everything about this is as it has always been, and yet, the habit of cynicism so ingrained in him makes it feel as though things are different. That behind these immortalized affections from he to you and you to him hides something of greater importance. As though something lies in wait behind the florals and flowerets of your arrival.

As his mind thrums with his well known truths and his heart sings with the surprise of your presence, he can’t help but wonder when the other shoe is to drop— he tries to never be doubtful of your words, but he trusts his intuition more.

And it tells him that whatever he is waiting for, is coming.

—

“To the water, Diluc!” You call to him, already throwing your shoes off of your feet and hiking the skirt of your dress up as you inch closer to the crystal blue waters.

He shakes his head, tendrils of red strands displacing themselves from his ponytail as the wind blows gently. While his face remains stern, contorted into the serious disposition many a Monstadtian recognizes, his hands are slowly removing layers of his clothing— the boots, first. Then his socks and cuffing the pants of his slacks. All the while, following behind your prancing figure.

“I find water to be rather disagreeable.” He calls out after you and you bark a laugh. One that echoes around the empty space of the open lake and high mountains. It dances on the wind, pirouetting its way back to him, sticking to him like honey— sweet, warm, sticky honey. Slowing his thoughts down in the sinewy constitution of it.

“What isn’t disagreeable to the great Duke of Mondstadt?” You tease as your toes brush against the edge of the chilled water. Though the blue certainly isn’t as warm as many of the lakes in Liyue tend to be, the change in climate isn’t an unwelcome one. Refreshing certainly, and as the chill jolts its way through your bare toes and travels up your spine, it’s an appreciated embrace when in the presence of such a ferocious source of heat like Diluc.

Diluc who sets things ablaze with his stoicism and piercing gaze, Diluc who uses such talents to stare at you from afar— the flames of something sparking in his irises— and the urge to drown yourself in the cool waters grows tenfold.

A determined reminder of things that you have shoved to the side for too long, truths that you were hoping to dismiss for just a moment.

Not an uncommon feeling to experience whenever you’re around him. Latently, you can hear the whispers of a wry voice belonging to a Favonius Captain comment on how he too wishes he could drown himself when in the presence of the tycoon, and you laugh quietly. Anything to distract yourself from the feeling of a heavy stare on you.

Your question, as redundant as it may have been to you, hangs in the air unanswered, but it doesn’t bother you much. Find your brain too swayed by the heat of his gaze and the chill of the water to think much of even trying to find an answer.

But he does. Silently, in the train of his thoughts that never end, the answer is abundantly clear.

You are entirely too agreeable to the Duke, he thinks, as you wade further into the water with a joyful yelp. The water halfway up your shins with your skirt bunched in your hands and your face furrowed as you will yourself to move further into the lake. You are entirely too agreeable, he thinks, as he finds himself approaching the edge of the same lake and following in after you—even though he knows it probably isn’t the wisest decision, safety reasons, all encompassing.

Should something emerge through the treeline, something he wasn’t particularly anticipating, and he were soaking wet— there would be a late reaction, late preparation in being able to protect the both of you. Or, if a Fatui officer were to find their way here to you both, with you being visionless and him impacted by the counteracting measures of water against his pyro, it would be a hassle to say the least. While he vigilantly patrols the acres of his land in strict routine, there is always the chance of those bastards infiltrating his lands. He would be remiss to put his guard down, especially when they’ve been establishing encampments only a couple hundred miles from his home, as of late.

Or, what if—

“Something touched me!” You squeal suddenly, running away from your place almost knee deep into the water and back onto the shore. It happens faster than he’s able to comprehend, but the sound of your yell is enough to have him propelling forward.

He’s rushing to you in fevered panic just as you rush into him. His left arm encircling around your waist and lifting, a flame already erupting in his right hand, aimed at whatever enemy has made an appearance. Your legs fold upward into his chest, your own arms tightening around his neck as your unintelligible squeals erupt from your mouth and into his ear.

“Where?!”

“I can’t—“

“Who goes there?!”

“Diluc—“

“Show yourself!”

“I think it was a fish!”

Chaos quiets in a second, Diluc’s burning fury splashes cool as his senses catch up to one another and the realization of your words corroborates his vision. He sees no enemies, clearly one couldn’t have slipped by in the few minutes since your entrance to the water. He does, however, see the speeding trail of a Medaka swimming away beneath the water.

The flame then extinguishes in his hand, “I loathe you.”

He feels your head rise from its burrow in his neck, “It scared me!”

“It’s a fish—“

“I didn’t know that! It could’ve been the tendrils of a slime!”

A bitter retort finds itself on the tip of his tongue, an item he is ready to unleash just as he turns his head to face you, only to feel it die at the sudden realization that—

—You are in his arms.

Held tightly to him, your body melding into his and your faces hardly more than an inch apart. Your eyes wide in residual panic, sparkling with the blend of humor. And then…he’s drowning.

Choking on the feeling of closeness, suffocating in the swarm of feelings in his lungs as he realizes that as abnormal as the occasion is to have you in his arms, it feels pointedly normal. He’s startled at how quickly he had thrown away the makings of a gentleman the moment your arms wound around his neck; Lost—completely, entirely, unabashedly—at how the weight of your gaze buoys him in the tides of a long lived affection.

An image of eternity finds him, then; A quick flash in the stagnation of thoughts, a future he had never allowed himself to fantasize of before— a cinder of hope to wake up tomorrow, two days, two years, two decades from now, and have this.

Knowing that it is something that he can never have, however, fills his lungs with a choking fluid.

“Enough of the water.” He mutters quickly, his cheeks tinting red in what you can only surmise is anger. “We should return for dinner.”

He’s lowering you back into the water then, making a short effort to remove your limbs from him and turn his back towards you, trekking towards the shore at a brisk pace.

It’s whiplash; A ferocious brand of rejection heats your body even as your feet are placed back into the cool lake. You stare at his retreating figure in dismay, but shock isn’t a feeling that registers. When he’s bitten by the bug of his own tumultuous thoughts, it doesn’t take long for Diluc to turn cold despite all of his heat. It’s a tell tale sign, one you can predict, but have never been able to fix. You can only pretend to understand what went through the mind of the Great Duke of Mondstadt.

Whatever it was that made him so cold, made the lick of heat that you’ve always associated with the man disappear in an instant, clearly is one he’s not ready to share. He has always been stubborn; An adult he may be, but a child he frequently can become. That, however, is always something you have been able to meet with equal measure. With a roll of your eyes, you follow after him.

“But Diluc!” You protest, rather immaturely, hand finding his and tugging him back to the water. “We just got here!”

He hardly budges. “I dislike the water and clearly, you dislike the fish that reside in it.”

“An overreaction on my part! I wasn’t mindful of my steps.”

“You haven’t brought any extra clothing. You’ll be walking home soaking and cold.”

“Then you can just snap your fingers and make me warm again!”

Diluc sighs heavily, “Ambassador—”

“So formal, Diluc. Let go, for a second. Come have fun with me!”

He yanks his hand away from yours, turning to face you in a ferocious manner. “Is that what you came all this way for? To have fun?”

All joy seems stripped from you in that moment as you halt in place, “Do you… not want me here?”

“Of course I do.” He says, and while the statement is true, his tone is stoic and cold—almost making you wonder about the validity of his claim.

He watches your brows furrow, watches as the skirts of your dress dampen as you no longer care to hold them upward but instead stare deeply at him. Watch as something clouds his mind that he cannot seem to shake off.

Shame, mostly, for his anger. “I just… am curious. You’re busy these days, my friend.” He says, eyes softening as he meets yours. You give him a gentle smile.

“As are you, dearest Diluc. I just wanted to see you.”

His heart should flutter and soar at this measly proclamation, but it doesn’t. Because in all the years that he has had the pleasure to know you, he can’t shake the feeling that something is off. That your arrival isn’t for any reason, that your touch is lingering, and that there is something you aren’t telling him.

He doesn’t confront you about it even though his mind races and wars and urges for him to. You will tell him in your own time, that much he trusts. If he confronts you now, when no initiative has been taken to show that anything is awry other than his own confidence in knowing you, then you will lie. Tell him that everything is alright, nothing is wrong.

Diluc doesn’t trust words, despises lies more— even if they do come from someone as agreeable as you. So, he says nothing. Only insists that you return home lest the food burn. And you do as he asks; Walking beside him in silence and climbing over obstructing rocks without his assistance. Feeling both of your skins burn despite no longer being close enough to touch the other.

—

“Well,” you say, peering over his shoulder and onto the food that he neatly plates onto two white porcelain dishes, “It looks edible.”

He huffs in laughter despite himself. A scolding tone far from his realm of view as he spares a sideways glance towards your face hovering above his shoulder.

“I can still arrange for it to be burnt.” He says, without any real threat.

“It was a compliment.” You meet his gaze in kind— soft over the warmth of his creation, diluted in the wake of previous tension.

“I recant all previous judgements of your character; You make a horrible foreign dignitary. I am terribly offended.” He says flatly.

“I hardly think my skills in flattery uphold our relationship.”

“You’re right. They destroy it.”

“The Great Duke, Mondstadt’s very own Darknight Hero, in need of reassurance?”

“Would you look at that?” Dilic begins boredly, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you, his index finger held upward in the air and a flame dancing atop it, “I suddenly have lost control of my motor functions.”

—

Dinner, even in the simmering of side glances and veiled suspense, is much like it has always been between you two. Easy and warm, seated beside one another despite the great length of the table; Him at the head of the hall table, and you to his left, finding one another and enjoying the closeness in company with a surprisingly well-made meal.

You tell him as much, with a shrug, a raise of your brow, and a disbelieving nod of your head. “It’s edible.”

He glares, you smile, and the ire of before dissipates into nonexistence. Neither of you able to remember what caused it.

The company at the table extends beyond dinner. Plates scraped clean of their respective meals, yet you remained seated. Weaving through the ebbs and flows of bountiful conversation and comfortable silences. Diluc listens with quiet interest as you recount the mining operations, the new additions to your family, friends and their gossip, books you’ve read and you, in turn, let him interject his dry responses that then turn into debates on trivial items. Most recently, the introduction of a new card game that you can’t understand the rules of no matter how many times it is explained, much to Diluc’s mild exhaustion.

It hardly lasts long, before you’re mentioning something and discussion is renewed. It is the most Diluc has spoken in months. A surprise to everyone but him. The night ticks on, a fire stoked and the familiar orange hue cast on your person and all is right once more.

It is in discussing ledgers and letters that it happens. The itch is finally revealed.

“Have you received any?” You ask, head tucked downward as you swirl your glass of wine, avoiding his eyes.

Diluc stares, and can only stare, startled upon the realization that he’s forgotten himself once again. Got lost in the intricate tethers of commonality and the sanctity of long-awaited reunions that he forgot that at the basis of he and you, lies a fundamental difference.

Between upbringing and duty, between values and expectations, between daydreams and reality. He knows exactly what you are asking, girl from the land of contracts.

“No.” He lies, easily. Diluc dons the farce of nonchalance that strains against the lines of his face at this very moment. He doesn’t need you to know of the large box that he tosses the offers in at the end of every day, the box that Adelinde insists he keep. The box piled with letter after letter that he hardly spares a second glance at. “Have you?”

He knows the answer. Maybe it’s hoping otherwise that has him asking anyway. Such is a stupid, stupid notion.

“Yes. A few.” You say, eyes still averted, neutrality in your words. No excitement or dismay, no begging or joy; Just fact. He nods, emptily. A motion without purpose.

“Have you accepted any?” He questions further, and it’s then that the mask slips. The air of coolness he so expertly concocts suddenly grows hot with invasive curiosity, with burning bitterness. His jaw pulses and his knuckles blanche beneath the table. Your eyes meet his, honest and open and he finally sees it.

The teachings of prim and properness fade and you crumble with the weight of emotion, too. Something, in your eyes. Slight and small, but noticeable to him— for he’s seen these eyes in every shade and situation. In childhood, in mourning, in light, in dark, in duty, and in dreams. Diluc knows your eyes better than his own; Sees them in every phase of the moon and every Spring.

He knows of longing well enough to be able to see it surface in the pools of your irises. He knows you, girl from the land of contracts. And the itch, that blasted thing, starts to be scratched.

“A decision is expected soon,” You say with a thick swallow, placing the napkin on the table yet never losing his heady gaze. The air shifts, the stale politeness gone and replaced with something more ignited.

You adjust in your seat and he watches. Shoulders stiffen, neck elongating, posture righting itself as if you’ve now realized the revelation that came to Diluc only a moment before, regarding the stiffness of the air; Regarding the mutuality in the suppression of all things inherent and true, burning and blazing alight.

“I wanted to speak with you before I gave an answer.”

He wants to yell, wants to throw the plates off the table, shout to the gods above about the cruel and cynical games they make him play, but instead he does as he has learned to do and stares. Looks at you, soft and comfortable, entirely at home in his manor. The manor he has made to be suitable for you.

Arranged marriages, Diluc finds, are the most atrocious of practices that Liyue has ever had the audacity to uphold in their commitment to contracts. Very much a Mondstadt originated belief— a city of freedom— but a sure one, he thinks.

He heaves a breath, one that shudders at the slow cracking of his ribs and heart. “Surely, you don’t want me to make the decision for you?”

“No… but advice would be welcome.”

“Fine.” He settles into his seat, noting with little amusement that he suddenly can’t get comfortable anymore, “Tell me.”

“There’s Liu Fuey’s son, an aspiring noctilucous jade merchant—”

He hums discontentedly and you pause in consideration of it. You look at him, and he places his index finger against his temple. “You couldn’t possibly think that an advantageous match, could you?”

You lift your cup to your lips speaking into the glass and shrugging lightly. “His son is quite nice. A bit too young, however.”

“Nice is one thing; Prosperous is another.”

You tease a gentle gasp, a coy smile curling onto your face as you ask, “Whatever do you mean?”

Diluc rolls his eyes. Sarcasm, unfortunately, a color you wear too well in times where it’s less than appropriate. You must know what he is going to say, wouldn’t be the inheriting child of one of the biggest exporting businesses in Liyue to not know— your father would all but roll over in his eventual grave before he ever let you exist without the capabilities to be exactly as you are now. And still, the fact that you're even contemplating a match of this nature turns him acetic.

The fact that this is happening at all turns him more bitter than the drinks he makes nightly.

“I hardly meddle with Liyue affairs and yet even I know one cannot derive a great fortune from the noctilucous jade market. Too much supply, little demand.” Diluc says after a gentle pause.

“Controversial opinion.” You smile at him and he must turn his gaze away before the cracks of an ill-tempered scowl breaks out onto his face.

“Yet, you agree with me.” He mutters.

Your smile—it’s too ill-fitting for something like this. He can hardly stomach it, much less fathom how you can even muster the curl of your lips when taking the businesslike approach to this. To think of your potential spouse as a transaction than what it actually is: the tying of life and body. It’s archaic; It’s depriving; It is the death to the bloom of life; It is not befitting for his beloved of Liyue that shines brighter than the most carefully extracted gems and blossoms with the incoming warmth of the replenishing seasons.

This is not you—but it’s not as though he could really say more than that.

He meets your amused gaze with little more than a stoic one, “Continue.”

You detail, with fine-lined trepidation and mirth, a number of other suitors that have been presented before you. Isamu from the Yashiro Commission, a match considered for the strengthening of national ties and Diluc grits his teeth because that’s hardly a bad option. Shabandar, the Navbed of Sumeru for merchant dealings and exports and while it certainly isn’t a creative choice, it’s a solid one.

“And—” You pause and Diluc raises his gaze. Hesitation flashes for the briefest second before you gather yourself, etiquette kicking in to disguise the weakness with mere coincidence. But he sees it, he sees all of it.

And he waits with a sip of his drink.

“The second son of Tsaverich, who will soon be taking over the overseas branch of his father’s merchant operations.” His glass of grape juice stays perched against his lips, halted at the words and weighted.

“Mikhail?” He repeats seriously, once the words have settled— albeit thickly— and you nod. “Mikhail, the one that engages surreptitiously with Fatui officers and embezzles from lowly merchants when he can. Namely, merchants here in Springvale; That, Mikhail?”

There’s a sharp edge to his tone that digs and pierces you at every syllable. Try as you might to not physically cringe at what he’s said, you can hardly suppress the waver in your voice as you speak.

“They’ve offered a grand sum for a marital union—”

“He’s a criminal.” Diluc spits and you sigh. Fingers place themselves onto the center of your forehead and press, attempting to soothe the beginning pulses of a tension headache.

While you hadn’t expected this conversation to be one of ease, you certainly hadn’t anticipated the extent of which this pit of turmoil would lie in your stomach. This surge of angst that causes your shoulders to tense and your heart to thrum with exertion. You’ve had far more heated negotiations with merchants and political officials that did less damage to your psyche than this.

You should’ve known better.

A conversation of this nature with Diluc would not only be painful, but would serve to have you aching and longing for a different fate altogether. One where he looked at you with less contempt, one where the conversation around marriage was less centered around other men and more around him, one where your hands were intertwined with his rather than clenched and white-knuckled.

You discard such a fantasy with the release of a heavy sigh, and begin once more. “The only reason you know that is because you interfere with Fatui business in an equally surreptitious manner. To everyone else, he’s just a wealthy young man. To my father, he’s a handsome prospect.”

Diluc scoffs, flaming and burning, aimed directly towards your heart. “And you would agree to a marriage and condone such immoral behavior? That is not you.”

“It’s not like I can make such a claim without evidence, Diluc. Tsaverich is funded by a number of businesses across Teyvat. They all have an interest in him and your preventative measures for some of his endeavors have caused quite the stir.” You explain, leaning forward in your seat if only to put yourself further into his blazing eyesight. If only to make him see.

“I’ve had a hard enough time convincing merchants to not pursue the Darknight Hero on their own volition, it would be even harder to convince them of Mikhail’s bad behavior with Fatui. Especially when he is the one fueling the hatred for your alter ego.”

Your words meet the side of his angular face as he finds his body slumping into the wooden dining chair. This is nothing he doesn’t already know, nothing you haven’t already transcribed in your monthly letters to him as he dons his nighttime persona and you wield the mantle as his political protector in the daytime. Nothing you haven’t discussed moments prior to this.

“Would you rather I expose your nightly endeavors in the presentation of proof and have the consequence be multiple nations come down against you and Dawn Winery for interference in business?”

His averted gaze meets yours once more, quickly. But he’s even quicker in his reply, “If it means you don’t marry him, yes.”

It is your turn to roll your eyes, as you throw yourself back into your chair, “Oh, please.”

“What I am hearing is that you would be okay with marrying a murderous, thieving, criminal—”

“I am not. I just don’t have a choice.”

“There is always a choice—“

“The Tsaverichs have been the most enticing opportunity that’s been presented thus far and my father’s never been much for politics anyway. And… hypothetically, if I were to marry Mikhail…” Your voice trails off, as though the mere mention of marrying the man were enough to have bile pushing up your throat, “Hypothetically, I would have more political leverage and be able to wield it in favor of the Darknight Hero and—”

“Do not use me as your excuse. I would never ask this of you.” Diluc adds, missing only the liquid of venom for his statement to be rendered poisonous. It stings nonetheless.

You shrug, defeated, “Your consternation is just a matter of principles, but you mustn't forget that this is just what it must be. I am just trying to consider all the positives here.”

“No. You’re wrong.”

“A contract is a contract—”

“One you haven’t willingly entered into yet.”

“Only because I was able to barter for some time of contemplation with my father. My time is running out.”

Diluc breathes out a wry breath of amusement through his nose, “Hence why you are here.”

His tone is bitter and disapproving, but you can only nod in agreement for it is the truth. “Hence why I am here.” You repeat, and Diluc turns his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“How long?” He asks, eyes finding the window, watching as the wind sways the orange trees and leaves descend to the fading green grass. Silence encompasses the room and drowns in the undercurrent of his ire and bitterness. Thick and unrelenting.

“Until Spring.” You supply lowly, and he scoffs. His head shakes, fingers finding his chin.

The food that once brought great warmth to you now churns unpleasantly within your stomach. Maybe it would’ve been better to have made a decision in private with your father and inform Diluc through an invitation to the ceremony— it certainly would’ve saved you the exhaustion of the debate you now found yourself glued to. But such a thing is a matter that you would never find it within yourself to do.

There is too much respect for Diluc, too much admiration, too much love to do something so cruel to him. Maybe, it is even crueler to make him privy and liable to the decision you make here, too.

You had prepared early on for the day requiring this commitment— knew in the depths of young childhood and the blossoming of your role as Ambassador and heir to your father’s business that this fate was inevitable. It was easy to separate yourself from it when understanding it to be a part of your duty. There were no tears, no despair, no tantrums thrown when your father presented the candidates he deemed most viable to a marriage. You had anticipated such a resignation of yourself throughout the duration of your choosing and eventual betrothed.

Here, sitting before Diluc in the home you know too well, in the space of memories that belong to him and you, and drowning in the heat of his anger, does such a resignation wilt and the weight of your repressed feelings come forward.

“Tsaverich does not fit with your name.” Diluc mutters after a moment.

There is one man you would choose without a moment’s hesitation, but he is not a candidate. Has not made himself to be one, no matter how often you wish he would. Unsure if he has ever thought about you as more than a beloved friend.

That is something you could live with—being his beloved friend for years and years, if only to have him close to you—but, you fear, as this conversation grows more sour and the figurative space between you seems to increase in size, that the berth has become too wide and a bridge of reconciliation is too weak to span such a distance. There are few things you dislike more than Diluc being upset with you.

But you try for remedy, nonetheless.

“I… knew,” You begin quietly after a moment, and Diluc finds his eyes drawn to you without much more of a reasonable request other than the sound of your voice, “I wouldn’t be able to get your blessing. But I figured I could at least get your advice. Or comfort… in your presence.”

He takes a moment’s pause, voice only finding grounding once he’s able to temper the severity of his feelings to little more than a dull ache in his chest. He’s monotonous when he says it.

“Is that what you want? My blessing?”

“I want to make a decision. And I want you to be happy with it.”

He scoffs once more, vicious and mean, and unafraid to be so because it’s you. You, who knows him in and out, through years of flaming moods and dark lows, who knows what he thinks and says before he even gets the chance to. He, who sits astounded because how could he ever say, in the gentlest ways possible, that his happiness on your betrothal to anyone other than him is something that would never be granted? And more importantly, how could you not know that?

“My happiness?” He responds, no longer trying to hide any disdain, “And pray tell, of what use could my happiness serve in making that kind of a decision?”

You tilt your head in soft dismay, “Diluc—”

“Would you like me to choose for you the best man I see fit, is that it? Lay the offers out on the table and have me select which seems to reap the most monetary benefits for you?”

You shake your head, “No, that isn’t what I—”

His tongue grows more ire, the toxin that resided in the depths of his soul is now unlocked, and seeping through him. Gasoline to the flame, and he burns, burns, burns. “Oh, I see. You’d like to make me equal, if not worse, to the role your father currently plays in this hell of a mess. You’d like me to select in accordance with familial values. What would make father happy, is that right?”

“You forget yourself.” You spit at him, equal in the anger that he has pushed you to. “Not all of us were born in the land of freedom. Some of us have duties that must be seen through.”

Diluc leans forward, elbow braced on the table as he pushes his finger into the hardwood for emphasis, “This isn’t duty, this is atrocity.”

(Diluc has only ever known duty to himself and the Dawn Winery. Diluc only expects that your own duty would be so aligned— duty to yourself and the business you hold dear. A voice speaks from the recesses of his mind, the parts not addled by fire and brimstone, reminding him that he has always had a duty to you, too.)

“Arranged marriages are common!” You speak with a broken laugh, in disbelief as the red-haired man stands from the table with a violent push of his chair back.

“A violation against the wants of the person, in favor of what?” Diluc paces around the table, feet taking him towards the walls decorated with paintings yet hardly sparing a glance. He turns back to you, hands placed on his hips and brows furrowed in desperate anger, “Connections? Land? Wealth?”

He looks to you in charged silence, awaiting an answer. You shake your head at him.

“It isn’t a simple answer, Diluc. You know that. It’s culture, and duty, and—and the need for security. I want to—”

“This isn’t what you want.”

“And how do you know what I want?” You narrow your eyes and such a thing would be insulting we’re Diluc already not a few stops short of a blown fuse. “You’ve spent most of this conversation speaking over me to know what I want.”

“Because I know you.” He insists harshly. “This is your father’s doing.”

He takes a step forward, “And if it's money he wants then tell him I have more than enough that I know not what to do with. If it’s land, tell him I own acres of Mondstandt with the plans for expansion. Your children, your grandchildren, and their children will have land to their name, I will make it my life’s mission to make sure of it. Connections?” He holds his hands out, letting them drop to his thighs with a resounding clap.

“You bring more of that than I ever could.”

To anyone else, his words sound much like a proposal.

To you, it sounds like a proposal.

Your breath hitches, and the words are practically whispered. “...What are you saying?”

And the truth that you both know in your own respective manners, yet remains unknown to the other, comes forward on his tongue. It waits there, stagnated yet burning in his mouth.

He should just say it, make the feelings that survive deep within the depths of his soul actualized in this very moment— where you demand them to make their appearance. Tell you that he says these things for the sole purpose of making himself the contender for your hand in marriage. Tell you that he says these things not so that you could abide by duty, but so that you could have the freedom to choose.

So that you could choose him.

The words are desperate in their crawl up his throat, digging their nails into soft tissue and drawing blood. His mouth floods with the ichor, too stubborn to swallow and too scared to spit.

So, he does nothing but choke.

“Freedom… within the contract.” He says quietly, cowardly. “I will… sponsor whatever fee or promise may be necessary if only to give you what you want. The chance to choose whomever it may be that you wish to marry. This decision isn’t mine to make. Nor should you make it because of me. And to be frank, I don’t want to be a part of it.”

Silence encumbers the space.

A look of measured disbelief sits ill on your face, and in feats unlike him, he finds himself raging. At this, at you, at himself. His decision feels like brittled tar coming off his tongue, settles in the room like a death sentence, and yet the stubbornness within him threatens the burning flame of truth in his stomach like a hovering guillotine. The blade shining with the promise of an ill fate.

“...sponsor?” You murmur.

Behead the hope before it can take flight. The blade descends.

“Yes. Sponsor.” He bites, “Until you can rid yourself of that inane notion of duty.”

You stare at him, a heartbreaking silence filling the room as fragments of the friendship seem to crack and shatter in place. Baring your soul to him, open and honest, vulnerability displayed at the most monumental decision you could make, when you were desperate for comfort, and he spits at you. Treats you pedantically, insulting the very thing you care deeply enough about to ask for consultation on; Throws things as insignificant as money your way and tells you, more or less, to leave him alone.

This is a Diluc that you have heard of yet, seen on occasion, but have never met. Angry and distanced, cutting strings before they have the chance to vibrate against him. You don’t like it. It sparks something within you, something equally as vitriolic and vile.

“What is it about this situation that angers you, Diluc? Hm? Because I believe that you are misguided in directing your anger to me.” You return to him woefully digging for a futile truth that Diluc has already locked deep within him, key thrown into a fire and burned with no remorse. If only you knew how close you were to uncovering it, the root of his ire. How your hand almost brushed the cage of his heart, fingertips barely scraping along the bars of its confinement.

He yanks you away, “You sit there content with this, amiable as you always are. You always want to placate, you stand up for everything but yourself when you clearly must. Then, you bring this to me, seeking help in something I greatly disapprove of, something I do not wish to be involved in, and yet I am misguided for trying to save you—”

“I don’t need your money, Diluc. And I certainly don’t need saving.”

“Then what could you possibly be doing here, then?”

“I apologize for inconveniencing you with my need to seek the comfort of a friend. How burdensome of me, how juvenile. Because I forget that the great Master Diluc can handle these things on his own, so why should I do anything different!”

“I gave you my answer.” He says, eyes burning. An ashen field of the garden of your friendship reflected in his stare, “I suggest you take it.”

And for the second time today, you feel the hot brand of Diluc’s rejection.

He doesn’t need to spell it out, his words are as clear as day to you— the professional linguist in Diluc's veiled bluntness. He has no intention of respecting your decision, nor does he intend to be involved any further within it.

The room is silent once more, this time in a way that is entirely different from the other instances. This is a silence of heartbreak as Diluc embraces the characteristics of his nature that he knows well and fine to be true of himself. This is the silence of heartbreak that shatters your soul and clogs your throat as it comes to actualization that your long held resignation of this fate was not born out of duty, but of hope that maybe, Diluc had felt the same way about you as you did to him. That from this, maybe, survived the chance of an outcome unneeding of your intervention, but instead a mutual confession that would sweep you off your feet.

Such a thing will never happen.

He does not return your feelings, nor will he ever. He sees you only as a pitiful friend in need; A friend that he can help free from the shackles of inane duty like a good gentleman should. You aren’t sure what stings more— the unrequited feelings, or the insult against your capability.

Diluc may be a formidable blaze that anyone may stand intimated by, but it is equally remiss to take you as something not equal in that strength. As a damsel in distress, as a child, as someone in need of a savior. He, of all people, knows better than that.

This is the silence of a heartbreak at the realization that a dear friend has misunderstood you horribly— romantically or otherwise. And born from its stillness is a blade of your own.

You rise from your chair. Vermillion eyes follow you with focused intensity, titillating as you waver not. Steel becomes you, and it is in the few moments like this that Diluc is astounded that the gods did not grant you a vision.

“That is an honorable offer, but I will not subject you to a stipulation of pity. This is not a horrid fate, it is a duty I have and will continue to embrace.” There is no amiability in your words despite the cordiality of them. Your tone is the embodiment of the negotiator that you have assumed completely in your adulthood.

Surely, he could back down now— apologize, admit his foolishness, but that would mean accepting the circumstances of the arranged marriage and that is something he could never do. He holds his head high.

Optimism lies decapitated most cruelly on the floor between him and you, two blades now stained with the blood of a lost union.

“A duty that I accept without remorse. Something I thought you of all people would respect. I see now that I was wrong.” You bow your head curtly to the gentleman of the home. “Thank you for the enlightening dinner and your hospitality, but I believe there is nothing further to be discussed. Good night, Master Diluc.”

You return to your bedroom without a glance backward, the sound of the bedroom door slamming echoing loudly throughout the manor. The mansion is soon thereafter submerged in a freeze that etches away at his skin. He stands there, the last witness of the murder.

If there was something to do, if he had an idea about it, maybe he would’ve handled the next moment more appropriately. But he doesn’t; he returns to his room a few moments later, stopping only to briefly glance at your door. No light peeks from underneath the door sill and no noise sounds when he leans his ear against it.

Sleep doesn’t come. Dawn breaks and his eyes ache with the need to fall yet his mind roams. It ambles around in so many directions he hardly notices the sound of movement in the hallway as the sun breaks the night and pinks and oranges become the day.

It isn’t until he receives silence when he knocks on your door that the thought of doing something becomes a tasteful thought. He knows it’s too late. Your room and all of your belongings are vacant by the morning and he does nothing but stand there.

—

Your sudden departure with a written note of goodbye on your neatly made bed inspired all of a twelve-hour huff and puff from Adelinde and a stern shake of the head from Elzer, but the deep scowl on Diluc’s face stops any further questioning cold in its place. Diluc is more than aware that such a response, particularly a nonverbal one, leaves much to be desired, but truth be told, he has no desire to explain himself.

Whatever transpired between you two rests solely between he and you, no one else; No matter how strong third party affinities may lie. He will honor the privacy of your friendship by keeping your argument under wraps and, subsequently, his rather… brutish behavior unknown to further scrutiny.

(Let it be known that that was hardly the deciding factor in his secrecy. His shame pride. No, of course not. Rather, he believes it pertinent to only describe a story if both sides are there to present it, lest any details become muddied by perceived rights and wrongs, transgressions and righteousness, little he said, she said’s. It is best to act accordingly, with honor to the other even if they aren’t there to defend themselves. Which is why he pledges his silence to the issue.

Even as he spends minutes, hours, days mulling over his words, reliving the argument and the kind of temperament that was exalted from him in response. He can hardly be ashamed by the genuinity of his anger, it is a direct reflection of his morals and to be dismayed by those is to be deceptive of himself.

So, no. He does not tell Adelinde and Elzer the intricate details of your battle, unsure as to whether he would omit certain phrases he had uttered or not, in honor of keeping the situation between the war of morals and opinion between you and he.

Or so he says.)

“You needn’t be concerned.” He tells the vexed headmistress, keeping his breath and stare as neutral as one could possibly muster when one hardly believes the words they say. “It was a minor incident. It will be nothing in two weeks’ time.”

The words do not placate Adelinde. They only serve to make the older woman shake her head in agitation and return to the kitchen in a brisk walk as she prepares breakfast. She mutters something underneath her breath, but Diluc is too concerned with pretending to focus on ledgers to listen intently to the words. If he did, he’s sure there would be some vernacular strung together to express the sentiment of “foolish” and “idiotic”.

And he’s likely to agree with them.

Winter

Fall exits Mondstadt with haste and winter follows on its heels with great delight. Nipping at skin and verdure mercilessly, the wind gusts powerfully from Dragonspine, expelling its subzero climate onto Mondstadtians as though it had been waiting for lifetimes for the chance to taste skin once more.

It has sparked many an overheard conversation. The weather being the heated topic of discussion, irony of the statement notated with a hearty laugh— even within the Dawn Winery.

Adelaide remarked to Elzer one frigid morning how unfathomable it was to even try to adjust to the suddenness of the cold as she wrapped a third quilted cardigan around her shoulders. Much too vicious, she screeched. Elzer nodded with little more than a mumble, trying to play off the chattering of his teeth as purposeful, pondering what could have brought forth such a merciless chill so quickly; So violently.

The answer seems obvious to Diluc, but that is a truth he keeps held tightly to himself.

Punishment, he thinks. You took the warmth from the manor and all of Mondstadt when you left. Absence of heat has left an arctic presence in its retreat. He tries not to focus too much on it; But the days grow colder, the days fall shorter, and life is ever more bleaker. Trees are barren, snow builds on the veranda, and the lake you once pirouetted and danced in freezes over.

Even worse, Ernst exemplifies himself as Mondstadt’s greatest mail courier in his commitment to delivery despite the freeze and danger. Diluc sees him every mid-morning, the man trudging through the blockage of snow with a wagon in tow.

Diluc nods courteously to the man’s gloved wave. Sometimes a greeting is verbalized, other times the two men meet eyes and continue on with the day, and yet try as he might to deny it, carmine eyes linger on the postman in repressed desire. Hoping even as the man treks past the deciduous trees and his figure becomes smaller and smaller in Diluc’s line of sight, that maybe, just maybe, the man will stop in his place. Maybe, he’ll look into the wagon that holds the great number of tied mail, and turn around in surprise. Run back to Diluc with paper in his hand and a hearty laugh, forgot your mail, Master Diluc! The phrase caught on the wind and swirling its way back to him. Your script on the front of the letter.

It never happens.

Ernst fades into the white blanket of snow and Diluc finds great difficulty in trying to take his eyes off of his figure. It is only when the chill finally catches up to him and Adelinde screeches a scold to him that he returns inside. No letter in hand. He can't say that he’s surprised.

It’s been a little more than two weeks and the incident remains frigid. Only, no longer is it a crime scene of stained blood, but a coffin buried in the ground. A headstone hidden under two feet of snow.

Reading: Here lies the friendship I once knew.

—

"Ah, Master Diluc. What a pleasant surprise."

"Kaeya."

It isn’t a surprise to see the owner of the Angel’s Share doing as he usually does behind the counter, but both men know that. To find Diluc in the sanctity of the tavern, away from the emptiness of the manor and in the warmth of the hearth is almost traditional. But there is a certain stink that circulates throughout the tavern this morning; A pitiful one, sour and rancid. It emanates from the bartender in a choking waft that is even more pungent than usual. Kaeya almost coughs.

Sauntering over to the counter, Kaeya seats himself with the kind of confidence that exists uniquely to him, hesitation hardly a recognizable shade in the man when asking for his usual. The request is met with a visible eye roll, but other than that, the two remain silent.

Angel’s Share is empty this morning, save for the owner— understandably. Seven feet of snow lines the buildings within the walls of Mondstadt and were it not for the official weather advisory granted by the Knights of Favonius, business most likely would have come to a standstill on its own. Not Diluc, though. Never the honorable Master Diluc.

His business stays open despite sending all of his workers home for shelter during the cold. How noble, how sweet. What a kind capitalist he is, one that knows exactly how to make Death After Noon just as Kaeya likes it.

Kaeya sips from the glass before finally deciding to break the silence.

“Lovely weather we’re having, wouldn’t you agree?”

Diluc grunts disapprovingly. Kaeya takes another languid sip. Despite being appropriately dressed for it at all occasions and all hours of the day, Kaeya knows rather intimately Diluc’s averseness to freezing temperatures and strikes of chills.

“There is something so beautiful in the snow. Shame that our neighboring nations don’t get to see it too often. I’ve recently returned from an expedition to Liyue,” The corner of Kaeya’s mouth curls upward as he swirls his wine around in his glass. A knowing smile in the fact that even as Diluc maintains a focused gaze on the glass that he is drying, he has his complete attention. Caught at the mention of the nation, of what resides there. “Whispers of an outgroup seizing trading merchandise a little ways beyond Stone Gate led me there, and I must say I am quite envious at how un-winter-like Liyue can be.”

“Fascinating.” Diluc drolls, placing one glass down only to pick another up. Kaeya plows on, hardly bothered by the man.

“The snow practically stops at the edge, right before the marker of the two nations. Pretty impressive, if you ask me. Apparently they will see the rare bout of snow pull in from Dragonspine in a particularly cold season, or so I’ve heard. From a… friend.”

There is no room for insinuation, it couldn’t squeeze into the damn place even if it tried. Your name all but shouted throughout the emptiness of the tavern. Diluc grits his teeth, and try as Kaeya might to find some smugness in this—sadistic joy in the way that the man grows uncomfortable and fights the urge to run— he cannot. For, try as he might to deny, Kaeya is and always remains his brother’s keeper.

And Kaeya knows a man in longing when he sees one.

He figures he might earn some deductions on his ledger of sins for ending the other man’s suffering early. So he begins again.

“You know, I was told a story during my time there. One, in particular, that I think you would find great value in.” Kaeya places the cup down, the sweet liquor of Death After Noon blossoming on his tongue, “Of course, it is a tale told to the children of Liyue to teach them certain morals, so I think you will be rather challenged in this story. Would you like to hear it?”

“I can’t imagine that I have much of a choice.”

“You don’t. Do try to pay attention.” Diluc gives nothing more than a bored glare at the man across the counter. Kaeya plows on.

“This story began with a question: When roads converge, do we assume them as fate, or do we impose our will upon them?”

And so he weaves a familiar tale of the target of two gods, Morax and Guizhong. The brawn and brains, the seal of a contract and the cursive words it comprises of written by plume, stone and dust; The firm and the wise. An unlikely partnership formed throughout the centuries, the makers of the era.

A tale of Morax, who has always been much too hard-headed, incapable of seeing the path laid before them, and Guizhong— sweet Guizhong, whose smile settled ashes and her wrath decimated stone to particles— finding herself as Morax’s advisor. The growth of wisdom from shouldered burdens and friendship, an unexpected term that hardened stone accepted in time.

A tale of growing affections, hidden smiles, and intertwining fates, lingering in the coiling of their lives together yet never voiced. Always dancing beneath the grounds of sand and stone. Until war ravaged their land of prosperity and brought an end to their union—Guizhong laying stricken upon the Guili Plains, her ichor forming into the rivers of the land, her flesh becoming one with the grass. Dying, in his hands, bemoaning their fate of all that was left unspoken.

“And Morax looked down upon the fallen god with what one could only describe as deep sorrow and asked, ‘Why has this happened? Why could you not have waited for me?’. Guizhong, taking her last breath, said to the god of stone, ‘I would if you had asked me.’”

Kaeya draws a finger around the rim of his cup, his one revealed eye flicking up to Diluc, knowing stare boring into the red-haired man. “A tragic story of missed opportunities. But of course, it is just a fable.”

Diluc says nothing, but meets his brother’s stare with a stoic one of his own. Cold and void, as it always is, but swirling in the iris of flames lies the starting spark Kaeya was looking for. The twinge of reminiscence; The flint striking against stone in the flicker of realized parallels.

“Riveting.” The barkeep says, tearing the windows of his soul away from the man who rivals him in skill of knowing all. But, is it really in the silent ability to read the room or is it in knowing Diluc well beyond any shadow of a doubt that has Kaeya acting as lighter for the wicker of ignition?

"I heard our friend came into town."

“You heard correctly.”

“I heard she came with a question.”

Diluc stills and Kaeya hums. As though he had nary a worry in the world and all the time for this moment, he brings the cup to his lips and takes a slow sip of the wine. Long and obnoxious and captivating for all the wrong reasons. Diluc can’t help but watch as terse silence settles between the two of them, the fire of frustration licking at the nape of his neck just as Kaeya seems to grow colder in his seat.

If only arrogant Kaeya would stop playing his mind games.

Detached and quiet and entirely too pleased, Kaeya sits at the fact that as much as Diluc tries to deny it, they both know he is dying for Kaeya’s next words.

If only precious Diluc would stop being so stubborn and admit that he needs help.

The glass is placed on the counter with a gentle clack, and neither man can deny the weight that escalates at that moment. “The poor girl practically offered herself on a golden platter. Well, as much as a dignified noble woman could.”

“She asked for my opinion on her suitors—”

“And she was hoping you would make yourself one of them.”

“That—you do not know that.” Diluc seems affronted, almost scandalized.

Kaeya sighs this time, loud and obnoxious, “No, of course I don’t. It’s not like she and I remain friends outside of you.”

Gloved hands place an ivory piece of paper on the wooden bar surface. Beckoned forward by unfettered curiosity, Diluc wastes no time in picking the item up, hardly remorseful even if a smirk settles onto the tanned man’s face.

“If you do not make yourself known, someone else will. Sooner rather than later, it seems.”

The paper reads: Kaeya Alberich, you are cordially invited to the wedding of Mikhail Tsaverich and —

Diluc tears his eyes away before he can make out the neat script of your name on the paper.

“I know that you have a tendency to make a fool of yourself, but do try to not waste the opportunity that is presented before you.” Kaeya raises a brow, leaning his head on his closed fist. “The gods have made the mistakes so that we do not repeat them.”

Vermillion eyes meet crystalline ones, perfect fragments meeting together.

“I am, unfortunately, rooting for you. I quite like our girl.”

The words linger within Diluc far longer than he would like to admit. They swirl around him even as Kaeya makes his teasing departure—Until next time, he said. They echo in the emptiness of the tavern, they trail behind him as he rides horseback to the manor. His boots are caked with the frost, and his ears are bitten with the freeze, but all that he can feel is the steady pulse of his Kaeya’s words.

Do not waste the opportunity before you.

Night falls but sleep eludes him. He sits in his bed and ponders, before deciding that he must do what he does with all of Kaeya’s keen words of wisdom and ignore it.

Imagine his surprise when he finds that he just can’t.

—

Rage finds Diluc in the guest bedroom a month later. Your bedroom.

The snow is at its thickest, wet and cold, blanketing all of Mondstadt in its frosty embrace and daring them to try to escape. No one attempts to compete with the force of nature, even the valiant Ernst throwing in the towel as blizzards obscure the pathways and the days begin to blur together in the white wall of relentless snow.

The manor is kept warm by the fires that Adelinde stokes, but it does nothing to soothe the deep and aching chill that settles within Diluc. It grinds his teeth, has him pacing the rooms. Unable to sit with the unease now in being so cold all the time.

(He remembers a time like this once before. When the shadows of blue and red converged so violently, only to part in equal fierceness. The kind of wintry bitterness that stings from the hollowness of a severed bond. The immediate aftermath of his father’s death.

Quietly, he wonders what Kaeya is up to.)

Adelinde, for all her mother henning, seems to understand that the discomposure that runs through him isn’t something she can solve. So, she keeps the fires warm, lights the candles in corridors and arched niches of the home, and keeps her distance. Although, if Diluc didn’t know any better he would think she’s keeping him out of her way. Annoyance and ire from the woman has been kept well fed and loved by her hand if her continued scoffs and mumbles are anything to bear in mind. It leaves her just one hair's width away from lecturing him once more—not that he needs anymore of it. He’s at the receiving end of his own indignation plenty.

Tonight, however, that familiar bite of his own self hatred is sparked by the flames.

In the crackle of the wood, he hears a laugh oddly similar to yours ringing throughout the room; Sees your figure dancing in the swirling and heightening flames. As quick as he sees it, it disappears.

He had been attempting to write a letter—an unfortunate consequence of Kaeya’s lingering words. At the very least, an explanation behind his behavior, a request for an update on your life, and maybe even, hidden beneath the flowery description of a cold Mondstadt and the dull season of the wine business, a quiet apology; A plea to reconsider. Each attempt is more pitiful than the last, the words becoming less poised and more of a mad man’s ramble as ink scribbles across the surface; Looking more jagged and unsteady than the previous. Paper after paper is thrown into the inferno and with it, his patience.

Frustration leads to the rage. He has no clue as to what parasite of uncertainty has bitten him so deeply, and that pushes him further. Hating that he has no idea where this has come from, why it is happening now after so many months, why this blasted thing won’t go away. Macabrely, he wonders what limb he needs to cut off to finally rid himself of its unabated punishment. It burrows so profoundly within him that he’s willing to take a gamble and partake in self-mutilation of all visible skin until he is fixed. Hack away at each joint of meeting bone with his claymore until the solution is found.

Until his mind is rid of your violent eyes and your corrosive goodbye. Maybe then he will find some semblance of sweet relief.

Diluc is proud fire and acidic sulfur. He does not and should not doubt himself. It is unbecoming of him to be so dubious of his own actions. Were you to stand before him now and pose the same question that you did in the Fall, he would have largely the same response that he did then. He’s sure of it. He would still be unmoving in his confidence that an arranged marriage was a barbaric idea; He would continue to rage at your disposition in being so accepting of it; He would maintain his morality in asserting that you need not be bound by such a restricting design. There was no need, no purpose.

But…if he was to be largely the exact same now as he was before, why does he keep replaying the memory in his mind? Running every look, every sigh, every word that comes off your tongue over and over and over. Wondering what could have been said differently to make you see what he meant; Wondering what he could have posed more nicely and less igniting to have made you stay.

He quickly shakes away the thought. No— there is nothing he could have done or said that would not have been a compromisation of his own ethics. He himself is not only to blame. You were equally as acidic, as defamin of his meaning in the height of the argument.

Such is the truth and the truth is final. The truth cares not about feelings. He has grown accustomed to that notion.

(Then why are his so hurt?)

His feet find himself in the bedroom before he knows any better. In search of… something. An answer, maybe, in an item left behind. Any sign of you that he can conjure up seeing as three months have passed since that wretched argument and he has nothing to show for the fate of the friendship other than its ashes.

No letter and no lingering scent of you; No gifted cor lapis and certainly no mundane detailing of day to day life, and thoughts, and jests, and imparted wisdom that he knows to only come from you. That he only listens to if they come from you. There is nothing left but a raging mind and the burning lacerated wound of a scorned memory.

It’s a fool's game, he knows. Adelinde had gone in and cleaned the room after her long stew of anger upon your departure, so chances are if there was anything for Diluc to find, it is long gone now. Having been taken away by Adelinde’s hand. The thought of that fills him with a quiet seethe that he knows is beyond irrational. It’s his fault he hadn’t entered the room after you left, much like it is his fault that he hadn’t entered when you were still here. Even with the light off, he should’ve entered, admitted his faults and come to a truce. If only to still have you.

The room is dark upon his entrance, lit only by the dying fire previously mended by the headmistress. The bed is made neatly, royal ruby covers folded with expert precision and the curtained posts drawn back to reveal the array of pillows that decorate its surface.

This room has, more or less, always belonged to you. It is where his father hosted yours and when you tagged along on business ventures, where you stayed. That tradition remained. The room becoming less of a guest room and more of your own room, right between Diluc’s and Kaeya’s. Playing in one or the other when either brother decided they wanted your attention.

Toys and Guoba plushies left behind remained in there, sometimes summer clothing and bathing suits would remain stocked and stored in the dresser drawers for your future arrivals. Remnants of you have always decorated the room beside his which is what makes its neat barrenness so much more jarring.

The room is practically wiped of any memory of you, due in part to the natural passage of time— where plushies were replaced with whatever task you brought that is seen as the new fad taken up by young socialites, and summer clothes were outgrown and changed with wear that are appropriate for maturing young women, everything in this room has aged just as you and he—

This is the natural progression of things, yet he remains resistant. This is what would have naturally happened; You would soon marry, arranged or otherwise, and this room that belongs to you would slowly become empty. Disused, void of you, unless you were to occasionally visit alongside your husband, whoever he may be. and your… children; because that too would be the natural progression of things.

Then this room would become theirs, and he would make sure it was known that it was theirs.

And maybe that is what bothers him the most. It never came to mind that this room would be empty because he had always assumed, one way or another, a part of you would always be in it—married or not. Ideally, it would have been you married to him. Or neither of you married. Together in the infinite in the ways and routines that are so known to you both, content with each other.

He would have been elated, beyond happy were that the case. It speaks volumes to him that he hadn’t realized that sooner or later, you wouldn’t be.

He is sat on the edge of your bed, lost in the thought of possibility, when Adelinde enters.

“Would you like me to start a fire, Master Diluc?” She asks, quietly, head poking into the room.

Diluc’s gaze is too fixed, too comfortable staring into the void, so he remains there. He says, “No, thank you. No need.”

“You are not cold?”

“If I was, I could surely start one myself.”

Adelinde hums noncommittally. She lingers for a second in the doorway before moving forward to him, sitting beside him on the bed. She heaves a great breath and Diluc prepares for the lecture.

He will take it, as he always does. He just hopes she’ll cut it short this time.

Instead, she asks only a question. “Are you going to finally tell me what happened or would you rather continue looking into the void?”

Quiet settles, in the same way that it has existed in this house for eons. Sobering, stilting quiet that aches and etches into the depths of bones. Weaving into the fabric of skin, unspoken truths tearing at the seams, begging for their voice.

It is through great misery and effort that Diluc is able to clench his teeth together and finally utter the wretched words. “She is… getting married.”

Adelinde’s face betrays no thought, unfortunately. There would have been great catharsis in being able to see some kind of validation seep into her face, but alas, wrinkled lines of wisdom remain soft. She hums. “To a good man?”

Diluc is quick. “No.”

“Does she know that?”

He grits his teeth, skin splitting further as the coal ignited deep in him simmers a low broil. “It was made abundantly clear.”

“Well, you have always had a way with words.” Adelinde folds her hands on her thighs with a sigh. “How do you feel about it?”

“Fine.”

“Hush now, child. Do not lie in this house. Your father taught you better than that.”

Offense should be taken at the reduction of age, but he cannot muster strength nor energy to deny the truth of the matter. The angst within him reduces him, grinds him, wears away the tethers of tendon to bone and makes him feel like the rageful child he once was years ago. Violent at the spring of growth, harboring resentment for a world that demanded so much from his father, from his brother, from him—

He is eleven, again. Furious at the news of his mother’s death at sea, Adelinde whispering in his ear to voice the tense feelings of grief that he could not yet name, feelings that you smothered with the feel of your hug. He is eighteen, blade stained with the ichor of his father, readying it at the throat of another and willing to stain it once more with that of his brother, stuck in the aftermath of a solitude interrupted only by the delivery of your letters—letters he could not answer, yet. He is twenty, swallowing the thirst for revenge with the blood of fatui, traversing through Teyvat in search of answers that will forever be inadequate, writing to you (finally) from wherever he lands, detailing no more than his safety and a promise to return home.

He is all of those at once, a child again. Sitting on this bed, feeling the emotion that turmoiled in his youth bubble once more within him.

“...Angry.” He grits out, finally. The ability to voice that which festers within him is less of an achievement of emotional intelligence but instead the identification of the familiar taste of a fire that simmers on his tongue.

“And why is that?” Adelinde probes. Diluc rolls his eyes.

“Because she should not marry him.”

Adelinde blinks calmly. “Because she should not marry him or because you do not want her to marry him?”

A mirthless laugh tumbles out of his mouth. “Is that not the same thing?”

Adelinde knowingly hums and he can taste wrath that settles like burnt tar, charred pieces of skin that rolls around in his mouth before he finally decides to spit them out. “If you have something to say, Adelinde, speak it.”

She waits for a moment, a solid and silent beat that weighs in the air before she asks. “Why did you not offer?”

“Arranged marriages are barbaric. She should be free to choose whoever she wants to marry—”

“And she had her pick to choose from. Why did you not make yourself one?”

“Selecting from a batch of suitors is not a free choice. That is asking to pick the lesser of two evils, where is the freedom in that?”

“There is freedom in the choice.” She says, simply.

“It is a forced hand.”

“One that only you are unsettled by.”

Diluc’s head snaps towards the headmistress, his eyes narrowed in a venomous stare that she meets with fortified steel. “What is it that you trying to say?”

Adelinde shrugs elegantly, as though this were a mere discussion about the weather, or dinner options rather than a fated conversation about marriage, and love, and you. “You are attempting to rewrite rules to a game that has existed long before you. You clearly want something, and yet, you are unwilling to navigate the game to get it—”

“You believing marriage to be a game affirms that my position is correct.”

“Diluc—” Adelinde says, suddenly serious. “Did you not offer yourself because you are afraid she would not pick you?”

Diluc stares widely into the woman, stomach dropping at the utterance of his great fear. Coal stifled in its blaze, water dousing the flame as he is realized in the words of actuality.

He stares, eyes of vermillion boring into the motherly figure. Adelinde takes his silence for affirmation and speaks with a heaviness that should take to mean her conviction in the matter, or, the extent of her confusion. “Why ever would she not?”

Words unable to string together, he is a child again. Figuring out how to piece emotions together through crafted hand cards made by the headmistress for moments when he could not voice what he felt, but instead could point. His finger, made bloody with how often he picked at the skin, pointing to the card written in purple ink, stained with juices of grapes for emphasis.

Humiliated.

He finds himself muttering, “You did not see how she looked at me.”

“As though she were angry?” Adelinde raises a brow, a quiet admonish to the man beside her that looks just like the boy she used to wipe tears from, “People are allowed to be angry at you Diluc and it mean nothing more than the fact that they were angry with you. Just as you were angry with her. It is not a statement of your character.”

“You do not understand.” Diluc begins again, self-hatred and reproach ready to be released from the confines of the mind that it has swirled around so viciously in for all of these months. He is tired. He is weary. He wishes he could wake up and have this be the end of the nightmare. “I am not a good match for her.”

“A decade of friendship would speak otherwise.”

“We cannot return from where we came because of how I acted. I was mean and insulting, and yet I had never been more true to my feelings. I could not hide my nature even for the one I love the most, how could anyone ever be deserving of that?”

“Did you ever think that, maybe, the severity of your feelings intensified your anger?” “That does not make it acceptable.”

“You are right. You are long overdue in issuing an apology, but my dear, you spoke without filter in the heat of a moment. It is but a mistake.”

“She deserves better.”

“Archons above, Diluc, one would think with your manner of speaking that you have violated her innocence! She is not a girl, she is a woman. Give her more credit to understand and make her own decisions—with,” Adelinde emphasizes, holding a finger up before Diluc could even think to interrupt her with a string of excuses explaining how you have, in fact, made your decision to marry, “all of the facts of the situation. Namely, how you feel about her.”

Adelinde scoffs. Tickled at her train of thought. “Besides, if either of you cannot handle one disagreement, then maybe marriage should be a tabled conversation.”

“This was a fight.”

“One you will overcome. Diluc, here you sit looking into a darkness that promises you nothing because you believe that is what you deserve. But I am telling you that you are deserving of a happiness that you may think is well beyond your reach, but it is right there. You need only to apologize and speak to her.”

“What if it goes wrong?”

“You have sat in rage for years, my dearest. Why not let yourself find joy in what you know will bring it?” Adelinde smiles. She steps closer, her fingertips brushing aside the stray crimson hairs that fall onto his face. “You forget, my darling boy, that I raised all three of you. I know each of you better than you know yourselves.”

And for a moment, Adelinde’s heart aches with a pointed swell. She sees a young boy once more, eyes glassy, fear holding tightly onto a long-held hope.

“When you decide to stop looking through your own eyes, and start looking through another, maybe then you will see that they want it, too. So instead, ask yourself, what if it goes right?”

Equinox

The Tsaverichs are an ambitious bunch.

Your father makes note of this characteristic to you in a low murmur, watching with little enthusiasm as your future father-in-law booms and bellows with audacious designs for the impending wedding. Gathered in your family’s office in Feiyun Slope, the Tsaverich Family sits opposite of yours as details of the union slowly begin to be ironed out—emphasis on slowly.

Despite the eager receipt in which the Tsaverichs acknowledged your acceptance of the marriage arrangement, their propensity for grandeur is oftentimes contradicting and irritating to your father’s own demands.

(“Cranes are a sacred animal to Liyue. We will not be detaining five-hundred of them for release at the wedding.”

“You wish to invite… how many people?”

“Out of the question! My daughter will not declare herself allegiant to the fatui in her vows!”)

Your groom-to-be sits quiet beside his father, silent to his demands and hardly makes any effort to look you in the eyes. Ten meetings so far about wedding preparations and your groom has done little more than provide a quick nod of his head and offer a surprised gasp at his father’s mentioning of future children. (Another detail attempted to be negotiated into the preparations: the immediacy of an heir upon your union. Your father—your hero, really—is quick to strike that from the table altogether.)

You do well to hide your smile as your father huffs another sigh of annoyance underneath his breath, but it remains a difficult task. Especially as your future father-in-law preaches incessantly about how important the venue to the wedding is for the sixth time, about what it means for the union, and other details that you try to listen to but repeatedly find slipping between the threshold of reality and thought.

Consciousness caught between the dismayed feelings of your reality, of the eerie creep of the winter chill that seeps through the floorboards despite the fire blazing in the corner; Thoughts linger on the remaining tasks for the day, impending ledgers to sign, travels to prepare for; Memories springing to the forefront of your mind, how you wish you were ten again, running through fields of open grass without a care or an obligation to a man who can hardly look your way.

How you wish Diluc were around to keep you company. How unassuming he would find these negotiations to be, how you would make it your life purpose to get him to crack a smile at that very moment. How angry you are with him.

You sip at your tea, bitterly.

“--and that is why we demand that the union take place in the Schneznayan Mountains, as a respect for our culture and a formal introduction of the bride into her new home nation.”

Your father heaves a great breath, rubbing the weariness out of his eyes with two fingers. “As mentioned before, Tsaverich, we do not oppose a celebration within Snezhnaya. This is a union of two families, we will have two celebrations.”

Tsaverich guffaws, his rotund stomach jumping with the action. “I will take a firm stance that two celebrations are preposterous! We are already spending a fortune on the one alone, two is simply making a mockery of the whole affair. And it must be in Snezhnaya, where the bride will live and where her children will be born.”

“I take this as a grand offense to my daughter’s nationality, Tsaverich. Do you wish to erase Liyue entirely from my daughter and my future grandchildren? These were not terms we agreed to upon acceptance of your arrangement.”

“Of course not, my good sir, but you must consider this from our perspective.”

“I have heard of your perspective greatly.” Your father sighs before standing to address the whole table. “I propose a different solution altogether.”

An array of pensive gazes follow his movements, your own included. Your father is prone to his eccentricities, the many of which have become great friends of his during his time as an entrepreneur. It has made for moments like this, a simple gesture coupled with a phrase having the entirety of the room still in anticipation of his next movement. Your father, a monolith, in a room full of mortal men.

“They marry in neither of our nations.”

Said monolith states his solution with little qualm, even as the entourage of advisors and planners emit a low gasp at your father’s suggestion and your own head snaps to him in earnest—beyond curious. It’s not an unheard of solution, but certainly a drastic one considering the company currently kept.

Your father bypasses the general din of unease with little more than a wave of his hand.

“If we cannot come to an agreement about either location, we shall find another means of compromise. Hence the idea. I believe I have sourced an appropriate and fair opportunity for this and I hope—” In perfect timing, a knock resounds throughout the office. The door behind your father being the spotted culprit. He turns towards it with comical eagerness, practically dancing on his feet. “Ah, right on time!”

He approaches the door with a giddiness that is hardly seen within a negotiation room— as though his victory lies behind the wooden divide. His trump card ready for presentation, willing to wipe the room and render everyone speechless.

There is much to admire about your father, but his ability to forgo proprietary notions in business meetings will certainly always be a top quality. It never fails to pull the corners of your lips, much like it currently does. A small smile crossing your face despite the horrendous nature of the planning so far, particularly when your father’s hanfu sways with his flippant movements. It is hard to deny that your father’s own excitement functions as a social contagion, your own interest beyond piqued.

“I present the solution to our venue issue!” With his hand on the knob, your father delivers a grand smile to the room of waiting attendants and a pointed wink your way. Opening the door, he announces his winning deal with grandeur and delight.

“Master Diluc Ragnvindr!”

Said interest shatters at the mere mention.

There is great fortune in the fact that the name of the individual is equally as egregious to your Snezhnayan counterparts as it is to you— your startlement quickly concealed by the furious uproar of your future father-in-law and gasps of his entourage.

A vision of red and black steps into the room, hardened boots deafening a hollow sound on the wooden floor as his presence fills the empty spaces of the room not contained by the shrieks of shock.

You stare in angered amazement; Three months of stilted silence and lingering wounds have obscured the memory of his face into something more treacherous, vicious, and unkind. But, as he stands in the room affronted with the great upset that his arrival has caused, in a room filled with people, his eyes find yours in a split second. And they hold.

You remember this face, even as your heart has tampered with recollection to protect you from the hurt, made him into something jagged and meaner. But you know this face, know the softness of his skin and the sharpness of his jaw; Dream of the breadth of his shoulders and the hauntingly beautiful warmth of his smile.

You have gone a great deal of time without seeing him before—such is the nature of a long distance friendship. But, this time, Diluc Ragnvindr stands before you exactly as you remember him to be— eyes still the same burning shade, sharp and narrowed and able to pick apart a person with little more than a quick flick up and down. He is dressed as intimidatingly as he always does and the air that surrounds him is much the same as it always has been, and yet— there is something entirely different about him.

He is not the same man that stood in the dining room staunchly opposed to you, alight with anger and a furrowed brow that creases the delicacy of his even face. He is someone new altogether; A renewed vigor. A sense of determination.

Handsome. Frustratingly so.

You do not dare to take your eyes off him, even as anger simmers beneath you and the memories of your argument fill the silence. He does not move himself either; He lets himself be scrutinized and the object of ire. Not a new position for him to be in, but it is clear from the direction of his gaze that he lets himself be seen—unabashedly, unwaveringly by the entirety of the room—for you.

A familiar language seems to speak in the meeting of your gazes. The words natural and inherent even in the gliding fit of anger. Bad habits finding themselves once more.

It is your future father-in-law that shatters the charged gaze.

“My, this is absolutely preposterous! You have invited a traitor to our familial conversations. He is not welcome here and I find your behavior to be most insulting to us and our great nation!” The Tsaverich patriarch boasts a face as red as jueyun chilis, his head shaking from side to side in search of validation in his entourage’s gaze.

Your father placates, his hands held up in surrender. “Please, Tsaverich. Hear us, for just a moment. Master Diluc is not only one of Teyvat’s greatest businessmen, but he is an upstanding gentleman and friend. His late father was my dear companion, and Master Diluc has come to be his exact likeness. He has been a most trusted advisor and also a dear ally to my daughter. Let bygones be bygones in pursuit of our children’s future.”

Only then does Diluc tear his eyes from yours, meeting the gaze of Tsaverich and his son with a polite bow of his head that you imagine he swallowed a great amount of pride to do.

It is only then can you finally exhale the breath you had not realized you were holding.

“I come only to offer a solution.” He says, low and even. Steadied, as if practiced. Sure, as though he truly believed the words he had said. “In favor of a friend.”

“Unbelievable.” Tsaverich mutters, and you can’t help but agree.

You find it difficult to believe, relatively unfathomable. You were made acquainted with a man blistering in fury at the prospect of your marriage to a Tsaverich and here he stands offering a solution.

Insult to injury, practically. A machination of divine intervention, surely, for only the gods would be so interested in seeing the mortals squirm with discomfort.

“I offer a venue in Dawn Winery.” Diluc begins again, his hands folded behind his back and his stature erect and poised. Standing beside your father, he appears the very picture of an intimidating man. The spitting image of his father, with the same sense of honor. “The couple can hold the ceremony on our grounds with the full assistance of the manor’s staff and complimentary wine to celebrate the event.”

“No. The couple will be married in Snezhnaya and that is final!”

“I offer Mondstadt not as a means to usurp your desire, but to find a middle ground. Mondstadt is a friendly and fair nation, it holds allegiance to both families. The couple marries on neutral lands and the families avoid a generational war of resentment. It is a fair offer, Tsaverich.”

Whatever logic could be perceived at the suggestion at this moment is thoroughly clouded by the vindicating sulfur of rage. Tsaverich ignores Diluc entirely, his gaze and finger aimed directly at your father. “This is an insult to our very name. You could not be honorable enough to suggest it yourself, you had to be in cahoots with an enemy to our great nation—”

“Not an enemy. Just banned from entry.” Diluc clarifies stoically and, finally, you find reason to interject within the conversation. Albeit, involuntarily. A huff of laughter escapes your mouth, one that you quickly try to mask lest you fuel fires further. (Either, the branding fire of anger belonging to Tsaverich or the slow burning flame in the eyes of vermillion that are waiting, begging, for the catch of wind to breathe life into it. You wish to avoid both. A glance upward reveals that you’ve stoked one.

Familiar eyes flicker to yours again and a corner of his mouth is pulled upward. For only a second.)

“For heinous behavior!” Tsaverich bellows again, finger wagging in the air.

Your father begins again, tone soothing. “Once more, I beg you to let things remain in the past—”

Tsaverich points a finger accusingly at your father, “This is all very odd on your part, my good sir. Are you intending to sabotage this wedding?”

“Why don’t we defer to the couple for their opinions on the matter?” Your father says, quieting the murmurs of the room. Eyes fall quickly to Mikhail for answer but you feel the flaming burn of a particular pair land on you.

Mikhail seems startled that things have landed on him. A cold sweat seems to emerge upon his brow as his hands wring together. “Me?”

“Yes, you! Out with it, boy!”

Mikhail hesitates, his eyes bouncing from his father to the other members of his party. His mouth opens, his own thoughts and words coming to the forefront—the first to have ever graced the many convened sessions of wedding planning so far— before they disappear entirely at the closing of his mouth. His father bores a heinous glare into him and, briefly, you see the rest of your life in this moment.

Set forever to be sat at a table on the discussions of your marriage between three people. You, Mikhail, and his father. It is a desolate image and, not for the first time since this all began, do you feel the bile of dread push up your throat.

Finally, Mikhail decides to voice an opinion. “I-I believe my father is right.”

“That settles it!” Tsaverich begins quickly thereafter, his hand clapping his son’s shoulder so hard it jerks the boy forward. “The couple wishes to be married in their future nation. Let us put an end to this nonsense—”

“There are two people to be married and one of them has yet to speak.” Diluc’s tone is that familiar bite, the kind that was aimed at you three months ago. It is a gentlemanly gnash of his teeth, but his intent is verbose. Poisonous as he tears his deathly glare away from Tsaverich before finally falling onto you.

Eyes softening, only then.

“You have not spoken.” He says to you, gently.

And you’ve never been one to need anyone to offer you the stage—you’re a negotiator, an Ambassador. You’ve learned how to command things when necessary. This is not Diluc being a savior, but instead, him being earnest—interested to know your position, determined to hear your thoughts. Which makes this all the more confusing.

He did not want to hear your opinion three months ago. Diluc was wholeheartedly, completely, and violently uninterested in any conversation surrounding arranged marriages— and yet, here he stands. Asking for your opinion on your own.

You hate how easy it is to give it upon being asked by him.

“Forgive my silence,” You begin after a long beat. Sparing a glance to the number of people in the room, you compose yourself as quickly as you can. “I meant only to consider all positions before offering an opinion.”

“Heartily forgiven, my darling.” Your father beams, sweetly. “This is your wedding, you are allowed to do and ask as you please. Forgive us for forgetting that detail. Tell us, what are your thoughts?”

You nod, fingers fiddling with themselves as you find the correct words to tell.

“It… is as Master Diluc says. Mondstadt is not only friendly territory for the two families that have conducted business there, but it is also my second home. Let us abide by a matter of principles. If venue is the object of contention, then I vote for the compromise.”

Tsaverich looks heartily annoyed by your words while your father beams a perfect picture of a proud man. Entirely too pleased to see that his plan has worked, thus far. You find your attention, however, drawn to someone else entirely.

Diluc stares at you as though fate were predicated on you entirely.

And it is. The words are heavy coming from your mouth, an admitted desire at the revelation of your long held truth. It is breathy and uneven and the unearthing of truths that shatters the foundations of carefully built walls.

“Let us begin a marriage with peace and trust. End the stalemate. I wish to be married on Dawn Winery.”

He looks at you, a burning flame in his eyes. And for a moment you can see the unspoken language, you can hear the whisper of what he means to say ring in your ear.

Your father claps, its startling sound resounding throughout the room.

“Well! There’s our answer! It is the bride’s big day after all, I believe we should defer to her wishes on this matter. Let’s put this down as a tentative idea. I will gather with Master Diluc to discuss more of the finer details of the venue, but for now let us all break for a much needed dinner.”

—

He is quick to follow you, right on your heels as you lead a path from your father’s office into the upper pavilion. Past the lingering staff and into the seclusion of your own personal office where high windows overlook Liyue Harbor and the sun casts its setting hue into the room. The warmth of orange bathes the quaintness of your personal items in a settling glow. Your desk is filled with papers, and ledgers, and charming trinkets given to you over the years; Pictures of your family, a childhood dog, and even him, scattered on surfaces. The room is hardly fitting for the arena in which your emotions threaten to spill onto the man before you, but you suppose neither was a dining hall.

You and Diluc certainly are aiming to have a knack for disagreements emboldened in the safety of personal spaces.

“Is this your way of mocking me?” You turn quickly on your heels as soon as the doors to the office close. The question is pointedly aimed and his face contorts into a furrow.

“No, this isn’t that at all—”

“Then petty revenge, is it? A final ‘I told you so’? Even if my father did come to you for assistance, you should not have involved yourself—”

“He didn’t.” Diluc interrupts quickly. He holds his hand up in gesture and you notice briefly that in the duration of the walk back to your office, he has removed his gloves. They remain folded in his hands. “I offered to your father the Dawn Winery as a venue for your wedding.”

Your head pulls back, confusion etched on your brow. “...You offered?”

“Yes.”

You blink owlishly and despite the discomfort, Diluc has never stood more surely on his feet. “I do not understand. You oppose this wedding.”

“I do.”

“You said you did not wish to be involved.”

“I did.”

“Then why would you offer?”

The question does not catch him by surprise. It is one he knew would be asked and yet it still renders him quiet. All that which he had rehearsed, fortified as explanation when sleep evaded him and his attention waning as he rode horseback between the trail leading to Liyue, falls through at the moment of demand. He is speechless despite having much to say.

The only words able to fall through his mouth at the sight of your furrowed gaze and waiting figure is: “I was a complete fool—“

“Of epic proportions.” You interject, and he nods absently. Deservedly.

“Yes. And, in my foolishness, I realized that I do not wish to be right. I care only to have you speak to me again. I was wrong to dismiss what was so important to you, and it was wrong of me to treat you so coldly. That is not how one treats their friends, and it certainly never should have been how I treated you, especially not when you had come to me for comfort.” He grips the gloves tightly in his hands, fingers wrenching over the leather material. If you look hard enough, you can see the blanching of his knuckles. “I was prideful, and angry, and that is my nature that I am ashamed I could not hide, even for you. But, I had to come. I had to see you.”

The space between you two—where he stands by the door and you by your desk—feels like the proverbial sea splitting apart lighthouses. Both of you, lamps circling and splitting through the fog, just barely missing alignment with one another.

"I am not, nor will I ever be, proud of the man I was that night." He says and there is no shyness to his tone. He almost seems to grow taller, more emboldened where he stands, displaying his seriousness to the words he speaks. He means to make no mistake with his words.

He stands before you replacing the man of rage you saw all those months ago with an apologetic one. Believing everything he says.

The hue of the setting sun wafts across his figure pristinely, softening the sharpness of the features that your angry mind made him out to be. The sculpted physique that has turned him from boy to man. An honorable man, always and still.

The fortified walls of your sorrow crumble at the sight of him. Three months of built steel and rage crumbling in an instant and it is pathetic, and pitiful of you. Your beating heart tears at the sinews and seams as the truth confronts itself once more. You are and will always be in love with a man you cannot have.

You will live your life in union with another, and still think of the tenderness of his gaze and the honesty of his words. Of his care for you. To cross a nation and offer his home in something that he despises, solely for the sake of an apology. For you.

For his friend.

You pull your gaze away, looking instead to the gold inlaid hourglass on your desk. You spin the object, more content to watch the sand spin than to look at the man before you. "I am not foolish enough to think that I am blameless in this disagreement. I cannot fault you entirely for your response. I knew it would draw forth an argument and still, I sought your counsel. And then, I ran when I was hurt by your feelings that were the fault of my actions. But, it was not your temper that hurt me."

The floorboards creak with the shuffling of his feet, his nerves once safely concealed by the steadiness of his figure suddenly betrayed by the squeaking wood. "Then…it was what I said?"

You sigh, sadly. "It was what you didn't say."

Diluc swallows, almost stuttering. "What... what did you want me to say?"

Your eyes are drawn to him, then. Something burns there, something that was burning once before in your father’s office. Your mouth opens and closes, hesitancy shuddering through you like a frigid chill.

It comes forward, the truth, "...Diluc." You exhale it away, softly, before shaking your head.

Diluc steps forward, crossing the sea and approaching the gravel of your shore. “No, no. Please. Tell me. I would like to be better. I would like to have my friend back.”

He takes your reticence to mean ways in which he can be a better comfort, a better friend in times of need. It isn't what you mean at all. You know what you wanted him to say, what you wished he would do.

Sensing you pulling away further, Diluc begins again. “I… do not know how to express myself so freely like you. I do not know how to express myself so freely to you. But in that inability I realized that I was at risk of losing one of the most important people in my life. So, please, tell me how I can be better and I will.”

It would be pathetic to tell him that you had hoped that he would declare a love for you that he has never given an indication of. How stupid of you would it be to admit that the love you held for Diluc is not in the way that friends do, but something deeper, something more consuming.

“Maybe we are no longer meant to be friends. Maybe this was meant to happen.” You whisper. There is a tightness in your throat, a stone forming in the depths that your voice cannot overcome. “I am to be married soon and off to another nation. The nature of our friendship will surely change. Maybe this is for the best.”

Diluc steps forward again, a desperate hurry to his movements as he draws himself ever nearer. “I do not believe that. And I do not believe that you believe that.”

“I cannot live with a crumbling friendship, Diluc. Let us end it, be done with it. This is too big of an obstacle, we cannot be as we once were.”

In a turn of efforts, it is Diluc then who is forcing himself into your eyesight. A sharp contrast to months ago when you were the one pleading to be seen by his avoiding gaze. He bends his head down, boring his eyes into yours as you try to lean away. “You mean to tell me that only I have lived in the misery of our silence for these past three months?”

And you want to lie, if only to further avoid the ache and the drawing out of this, but you cannot. Your heart does not allow it. Not with him.

“No.” The sharp threat of tears line your eyes. Diluc’s hands move quickly. They cast his gloves onto the surface of your desk and rest on the sides of your arms, gathering you into his hold. Squeezing you softly.

“You cannot live with a crumbling friendship, but I will never be able to live without you. Your company, your voice, just thinking of you keeps me sane. My words cannot be easily forgotten, I know, but I beg you, come back. Be angry at me, treat me coldly, I do not care. So long as you are here. I cannot live without my friend.”

“But can you live with a friend who has made a decision that you disapprove of?”

Slow moving and rolling fog of silence clutters the room. Diluc swallows. The answer is obvious in the wavering of his stare, in the tightening of his hands on your arms. You wait.

His voice is a low and a desperate plea. “Do not marry him—”

“Diluc—”

He remains determined. Words picking up in speed, in desperation.

“You deserve more than him. You deserve someone who knows you like I do, knows your heart—not your fortune. You deserve to be in a marriage that is happy, and true, and of your choice—”

“Some people are not meant to marry for love. Some concessions must be made. And that is my choice!” You argue, again. Shaking your vehemently. His hold on you remains fixed and in this battle you realize that his face has become so much more closer to yours.

“You can. We can.” He insists. “Make a choice with all facts presented before you.”

“I have—”

“Marry me.”

Your mouth widens, falling open and shut in a foolish manner. Your heart stops beating altogether. “...What?”

It is only then that he seems to realize what he has said. It flashes across his face in a masterful play of emotions. Surprise, fear, disbelief all replaced soon thereafter with a blazing determination.

It can no longer be denied. Diluc has run from this for too long. Words fall before he can catch them, truth and the resounding levity taking over him. His hands slowly move from grasping onto your arms, to cupping the underside of your jaw. Holding, gently, within his palms.

“I raged against the imposition of an arranged marriage because it forced me to confront the fact that I am a coward in not making my affections for you known. Yearning for your presence, your heart, your mind in every waking hour and yet having to discuss your future with another… A future without me. I could not bear it and so I was reduced to a child. Helpless, and angry, and afraid to lose you. But it has only pushed you away, because that is what I know best.”

Tendrils of loose hair fall onto his face, painting the perfect image of raw sincerity. He’s beautiful and it crumbles the remaining walls of your heart. “Three months without you have been agony. I wake thinking of you, I sleep dreaming of how you are. I would rather be near you than to ever be right about something, again. And I must tell you that I have been in love with you since I first saw you on your father’s ship all those years ago.”

His thumb sweeps against your chin, sweetly and you find your own hands being drawn to grabbing onto his wrists. He continues, his head dropping and finally tearing from your gaze, “I love you enough to hope for the return of your affections, but I will love you enough to put your happiness above my own. Even if your final decision is to marry him, with all the facts.”

You breathe out, disbelief and incredulity stiliting your words.

“Diluc, I don’t want this if you feel as though this is your last obligated effort to save me from something. I don’t want this if you don’t feel this.”

He shakes his head vehemently. Dispelling your thoughts before it could even take flight. “No. It should have been my first effort. I should have told you my feelings long ago. But, I hadn’t thought it possible. And, I was blinded by rage.” A humorless laugh tumbles out of his mouth, “Kaeya and Adelinde were quick to inform me otherwise.”

It is your turn to cup his face, his face falling gently into the touch of your palms. “You are everything to me, Diluc, and have been for so long. How could I not be affectionate for you?”

He shrugs, “Because I am prideful, and stubborn, and you deserve… much more than that.”

“You say that as if I am perfect.”

“To me, you are.” He says quickly.

“I am not. Our disagreement made each of our faults abundantly clear.” You insist.

“You are to me.” He says again, resolutely. “Even your faults are everything good. You are intelligent, kind, and beautiful and… the good things of me, what little there are, are because of you.”

His hands, strong and ungloved, calloused from years of labor yet soft to the touch, grab onto yours, then. Gently holding your palms to his, fitting together as though they were always meant to. He brings your hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to the surface as he utters his words. “And I do not deserve your forgiveness, but… if you will allow me to try, I will spend every waking moment of this life and the next hundred, earning it.”

And it is everything you had hoped and more. Eyes of vermillion boring into yours earnestly as he descends onto one knee and procures a ring. A single stone of cor lapis shining in the center of an embezzled design.

“If you will have me.”

Epilogue: Spring

It is finally accepted, the idea that was presented and discussed so feverishly once before. A ceremony will be conducted at Dawn Winery—with complimentary wine and the assistance of the full staff, as was promised. Which, fortunately enough, didn’t take much negotiation this time around, further doubling your father’s excitement. His sense of propriety and restraint was thrown out the window the moment you informed him of the change in plans.

Or rather, the change in groom.

No event could be more worthy of grandiosity than this. His daughter’s wedding— the long awaited union to the man they had all hoped it would be; had prayed to the gods to enact their divinity in making it happen. And in their blessed favor, it had finally come true.

Your father gleefully informed the Tsaverich family of the broken arrangement while shoving a drafted wedding invitation into their hands — one that crudely scratched off the Tsaverich’s last name beside yours and messily wrote ‘Ragnvindr’ atop of the strikethrough— and shouted from the rooftops in Liyue Harbor of the great news.

His beloved daughter was marrying the love of her life!

You had been more than content to have a small affair, and Diluc had been at peace to do as you pleased, but when your father in his great glory had appealed to your senses and emphasized how important it was to honor the union of your families and their respective nations—how great of a duty it was to respect the ancestral lines!— you both had acquiesced with little issue.

It would end the same whether the ceremony was performed in the great peaks of Mount Hulao or in the ravines of Windrise, whether there were two hundred guests or two people.

You would be married to Diluc, and he to you.

(And Diluc—

Poor Diluc who found himself at wit’s end with how elated is, who has found himself lost for words despite never trying to speak. A kiss from you, of which have they become more frequent these days, quells the simmering rage and forges a new fire in him; One of great joy, of great desire that he hadn’t even thought possible.

Poor Diluc who lays beside you on your shared bed in the manor as you peruse a booklet of different colors for table linen, offering a sweet yet lazy opinion whenever you ask for it, his fingers trailing slowly up the curve of your spine. Exposed skin the fodder for his eager touch, brushing over splotches of red, revealed only after the intimate moment of the night prior.

—realizes rather latently and with great awe that Adelinde was right.)

“This is a good look for you, my boy.” Your father had told him when it was just the two of them. You, having been stolen away by Adelinde and a few older women of your family to plan, plan, plan!, just a few moments prior.

Diluc raises a brow. “Hm?”

“Happiness. It does wonders for a man.” Your father says simply, patting Diluc on the shoulder, “My dear late friend would be proud of the man his son came to be.”

It’s a warmth he hadn’t realized he was waiting to hear. An affirmation he hadn’t realized he wanted. It strikes him rather deep in his chest. Has his throat closing and a sharp prickling irritating the corner of his eyes.

That is until your father, for all his eccentricities, pushes the matter further.

“He would, however, be humiliated to know that he now owes me ten-thousand mora.”

“Ten-thousand?” Diluc questions after swallowing the ball in his throat. “What for?”

“I wanted to formalize your union when you were children but your father insisted that you both would eventually find your way. Ah, the scruples of men from the land of contracts and freedom. We bet the amount on it.”

Diluc pauses, “Forgive me, sir, but it sounds as though you owe my father. We made the decision on our own accord.”

Your father hums, a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re right. It does sound that way. But it would not have happened without a little push.”

Your father gives a knowing glance to Diluc, patting him lovingly on the shoulder. Diluc huffs a mirthless breath, realization falling onto him.

"She was never going to marry Tsaverich."

"Archons above, no. Me? Tied to that man? Puh. I thought she was going to finally confront her ‘secret’ feelings when I informed her of the need to decide. Or, that you would have made your sentiments known when she brought that wretched boy to you as a candidate. But, you two have always been a stubborn pair, so I was hardly surprised when she came home early slamming doors. I decided to take matters into my own hands and push. With a little help from some friends, of course."

Diluc huffs a breathless laugh. Speechless. Curious how he hadn’t seen the two strategically placed agents in Kaeya and Adelinde before. “Ten-thousand, it is. I don’t suppose you have a preference on cash or check?”

Your father laughs heartily, “Keep it. Invest it in my grandchildren. Now go, your bride is calling you.”

You are married, twice, in the Spring. With the sun setting on the horizons and the cranes returning to the land from their winter migrations, blessing your union with their homecomings.

It’s a beautiful event, one that habitants of Liyue and Mondstadt are sure to discuss for the rest of their lives. Unable to forget the melodious romantic hymns of a joyful bard, and the profound prose of a well-versed director who insisted that this was the most harmonious wedding he had ever seen.

Now, that life has settled and the routine has become normal— your life being lived between Liyue and Mondstadt, in the warmth of the manor that was always yours and in the arms of the man that always belonged to you—when bar attendants jokingly ask Diluc these days how’s that friend of yours?

He tells them the truth with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.

“My wife is very happy.”

And when the manor is soon thereafter honored to welcome another guest to the home the following Spring—a swaddled bundle of joy with the scarlet hair of her father and the warm eyes of her mother that the gaggle that is your conjoined families can’t keep their hands off of—

Well, Diluc is all too pleased to admit how happy he is, too.

a/n: if you made it here, thank you. i have been working on this fic for four years now. its taken up so much of my heart and space. kind of in disbelief that its finished.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc <3 #tw: genshin #my writing #i expect exactly two notes on this fic lol #thats okay though! im finally DONE

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