#and some simply stunning performances

[ameliaava001]

wwe lol ,,,,,<<<

[plutotheplum]

XO

akaashi keiji x fem!reader

summary: being the manager of the msby black jackals is stressful, but when a handsome stranger shows up, you think you might’ve stumbled upon a hidden perk.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, post-time skip, kissing, oral sex, blowjobs, p in v, smut, fluff

wc: 5.3k

a/n: watched the movie last night and i cried (if you saw this post before, no you didn't) <3

also on ao3!

Six months in, and you think you might be ready to quit your job.

Sure, securing a job as the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager was one of your proudest achievements, but no one had told you that you’d be dealing with men like this. You understood that you were in the presence of some of the finest sporting talent in Japan, but these men were wildly immature.

It’s why you’re here now, glaring at the man who had made fun of his teammate.

“What were you thinking?” you hiss, pointing your pen at the offending man.

Atsumu groans, his head tipping back against the wall of the locker room. “I was only having a little fun.”

“A little fun,” you reply, nodding along, “right, and that’s why Bokuto is off sulking in who knows where!”

“C’mon!” Atsumu protests, leaning forward, staring at you desperately, “I made a comment on the color of his shoes! How was I supposed to know that was gonna set him off?”

You can feel a headache begin to set in and you sigh, pointing towards the door of the locker room.

“Just go warm up, okay? I’ll try and find Bokuto.”

Atsumu nods, and has the grace to look at least a little apologetic as he pats your shoulder and leaves.

You follow him soon after, out of the locker room. Bokuto’s sulking most likely meant he wasn’t going to perform as well. You knew about his bouts of being discouraged, had seen it during the occasional game when something would set him off. People are milling about, and you quicken your pace, turning a corner to finally find Bokuto sitting on a bench.

“Bokuto!” you call out, the relief in your voice clear.

The outside hitter looks up at you, a pout on his face. 

“You ready for the game?” you ask, putting on a wide smile to try and make him feel better.

“Do you think they’re ugly?” 

“W- what?”

“My shoes,” he says, pointing at them, “do you think they’re ugly?”

You have half the mind to tell him that they’re just shoes and that he should grow up, but the look of utter despair on his face has you holding back. A quick glance down at his shoes and from what you can gather, they look relatively… normal. You were definitely going to kill Atsumu later.

“They look fine,” you say, pausing when you see his frown deepen. Your fingers tighten around the clipboard clutched against your chest and you put on a cheery smile, voice pitching up. “I meant they look totally great! And they really suit you!”

Bokuto makes no attempt to move, simply stares down at his shoes and traces one of the stripes absentmindedly. You’re at your wits end, growing antsy as you check your watch and realize there’s only 10 minutes before the game starts.

“I could get you some new-“

“You doing okay?”

A voice breaks in through from behind you and your head turns, brows furrowing when you see an unfamiliar man. The lanyard around his neck has a card attached to it, bold letters spelling out VIP . 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto sits up, his eyes lighting up for a moment, “do you like my shoes?”

You stare at the pair of men, bewildered. The man, Akaashi, pats Bokuto’s shoulder and lowers his voice to whisper some words to the pro-volleyball player. In what you think might be the quickest change of mood from Bokuto yet, the volleyball player stands up and gives a hearty laugh, his chest puffing out. 

You’re even more stunned when he pats your back happily and jogs off in the direction of the court.

“How did you do that?” you blurt out, eyes flitting towards the man who was now standing beside you.

“I used to play with Bokuto in highschool,” Akaashi replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Fukurodani. I was the team’s setter so I had to get used to Bokuto's little slumps.”

Huh. That did make more sense. You narrow your eyes, examining the man a little more. He’s handsome, sure, his glasses sitting on the slope of his nose as he shifts on the spot. Akaashi stares back down at you expectantly.

“Uh- well, thank you,” you say, holding your hand out and giving him a sheepish smile. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get him onto the court at all today.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his hand shaking yours. 

You introduce yourselves and he follows you onto the stands, both of you overlooking the two teams as they line up on the court. Nervousness makes you restless, your teeth biting into your lower lip as you watch the players get into position. You really wanted the Jackals to win.

“Relax,” Akaashi murmurs, his head lowering to speak directly into your ear to help you hear better over the roar of the crowd.

Your eyes meet his and he stares back at you intently, his hand squeezing at your shoulder gently. You think some sort of magic might be laced into his words with the way your body loosens slightly, your tense shoulders dropping.

“Thank you,” you mumble, giving him a faint smile.

Akaashi smiles back and squeezes your shoulder one more time before his hand drops away. You nearly protest against it, wanting to feel the heat of his body near yours again, but you can’t because you’ve only just met the man and you aren’t that desperate.

The game goes perfectly well, thankfully, and you’re up on the tips of your toes cheering for the Jackals as they shake hands with the other team. Your previous nervousness has all  melted away, leaving only a feeling of pure giddiness. Akaashi claps with you, his reaction much more toned down compared to yours.

“You can come down with me,” you say breathlessly, flicking through a few pages on your clipboard to find the schedule for the post game press conference.

Akaashi nods, his eyes drifting over you for a moment. “Yeah, I’ll come. I need to congratulate Bokuto anyways.”

You beam up at him and against better judgment, hand him a copy of the schedule before giving him a wave and disappearing off to meet the team. Akaashi watches as you flutter away, skirt swaying, the piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand. 

- 

“No talk of shoes, okay?” you warn Atsumu as you had him a bottle of cold water. “We can’t have Bokuto breaking down on national television.”

“You worry too much,” Atsumu complains, pressing the bottle of water against his flushed cheek.

“My job is on the line!” you argue, giving the man a glare.

Atsumu only gives you a pout and you thank Meian when he comes to get his teammate, grateful for the captain’s unwavering leadership.

You slip into the conference room before long, making sure to give the Jackals an encouraging smile and a thumbs up before you sidle up to the wall, watching as the various reporters ready their questions.

A few bottles of water sit on a table beside you and you reach for one, twisting at the cap. The stupid plastic burns across your skin harshly, making a glare settle on your face as you narrow your eyes at the bottle of water. You try again but to no avail, the cap latching on stubbornly tight. A soft curse gets muttered under your breath before someone’s hand reaches out, grabbing the bottle of water from you.

You blink in surprise when you realize it’s Akaashi, his hand twisting at the cap effortlessly and breaking the seal. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“That’s the third time today,” he whispers back, his eyes glimmering with mirth, “should I keep sticking around for more of your thanks?”

A smile pulls at your lips and you glance up at him to find him smiling back. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” you mutter, elbowing him in the side lightly.

Akaashi hums in response, his warm hand grasping at your elbow to hold you in place. You freeze for a moment, surprise flitting across your face but then you lean into him slightly, avoiding his eyes as you press into his side. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, just stands there with you, his eyes trained on the little notes you scribble on paper as the players speak.

To your relief, Atsumu manages to steer clear from the topic of shoes, answering the reporters’ questions thoroughly with a bit of humor thrown in, to lighten the atmosphere of the press conference. You find that you can’t really be all that mad at the man, he knew how to get the job done when it came to it.

The press conference comes to a close half an hour later and Akaashi trails after you as you usher the men back into the main foyer.

“Good job everyone,” you announce before flicking through a few pages of your clipboard. “The Chairman has been impressed with your performance this season, so he’s personally sent a congratulatory cake.” You stare pointedly at Atsumu and Bokuto. “Please make sure to not make a mess.”

The men are gone in a rush before you can say anything else and you smile fondly, shaking your head.

“You gonna let me get in on this cake thing?” Akaashi asks, raising his brows.

“You’re welcome to join,” you reply, shooting him a smile as you try to not sound too eager. “You do have VIP status, after all.”

Akaashi smiles back and you think it might be a miracle that your legs haven’t given out under the soft gaze he sends you. 

Thankfully, Atsumu and Bokuto don’t make a mess although you do spot them bribing Hinata to bring them a few more slices, the orange-haired man utterly oblivious to the fact.

“Hey,” Akaashi murmurs, stepping in beside you as you finish off your piece of cake. “You’ve got a little something.” He motions to the corner of your mouth.

“Oh!” you flush with embarrassment, wiping at the corner of your mouth with a napkin. “Gone?”

“Just a little more,” he says, watching as you try and fail to get rid of the chocolate icing that’s smudged over your lips and the corner of your mouth. “Just- here, let me.”

You freeze when he reaches out for you, his thumb swiping over your lip and skin gently, cleaning you up.

“Napkin?” you ask weakly, offering it to him so he can clean his thumb.

“No need.”

Akaashi keeps his eyes on you as he licks the pad of his thumb, your hazy eyes following the motion of his tongue, a rush of heat pooling in your lower stomach.

“Do you-” you begin, clearing your throat when you hear how airy your voice has become, “do you do this often?”

A smile pulls at his lips and he leans in a little closer, his breath fanning across your skin as his mouth opens to murmur something into your ear.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

You jolt, half-lidded eyes snapping open when you find Bokuto slinging his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. Irritation flashes through Akaashi’s eyes but it seems to fade when Bokuto begins to speak animatedly, detailing the past events Akaashi had missed.

Part of you would’ve liked to speak to Akaashi more, but you can’t find it in yourself to fault Bokuto, deciding to busy yourself with getting another slice of cake. A heavy arm slings itself around your shoulders and you roll your eyes when you realize it’s Atsumu, the wide grin on his face making you feel uneasy.

“Saw you getting real chummy with Bokuto’s friend,” he whispers conspiratorially, trying to swipe at your cake slice. 

“I was being friendly,” you retort, glaring up at Atsumu.

“You look like you wanna fuck him.”

“Your observations are not appreciated,” you grit out, trying to squirm away from under him when he steers you into a corner.

“Good news is, I think he wants to fuck you too,” Atsumu says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ Why are you doing this?” you groan, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Because you, my lovely manager, deserve happiness!” he says cheerily.

Your eyes narrow, taking in the smile on Atsumu’s face, suspicion flaring. “What did you do?”

“What?” Atsumu’s smile falters. “Nothing. Why do you always assume I did something?”

“Because you usually do something, Atsumu,” you reply exasperatedly, trying to peek out from behind him to catch another glimpse of Akaashi.

Atsumu rolls his eyes, moving to the side so as to block your view of Akaashi.

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, peering up at him. 

He beams at you, his head lowering so he can whisper into your ear. “Just make sure you take charge. Guys like that sort of thing. Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him. My advice is foolproof .”

Was the advice really foolproof if the fool himself was giving it to you?

You shoot Atsumu a skeptical look, waving him off before he puts any more ridiculous ideas into your mind. 

As the night passes, the amount of players reduces, deciding to make their way back home. Atsumu shoots you a wink in passing and you glare back at him, fighting the urge to swat him.

“Heading home?” 

You blink up to find Akaashi standing beside you, his brows raised.

“Yeah,” you say, a wistful smile coming across your face, “it’s been a long day.”

“I could drive you home?” Akaashi offers, falling into step beside you as you both exit the volleyball stadium.

You had been planning to just catch an uber or something, but when Akaashi stares down at you like that , his gaze soft and lips looking sickeningly inviting, you nod immediately.

A few stolen glances later coupled with you biting back an inappropriate remark at the way his lithe fingers wrap around the steering wheel, you find yourself standing opposite Akaashi in the open doorway of your apartment.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” you say, peering up at Akaashi.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Akaashi murmurs, his hands shoving into his pockets.

Akaashi shows no signs of leaving however. Silence passes over you as you both just stand there, staring at each other. Your gaze dips down to his shirt, trying to stop Atsumu’s obnoxious voice from blaring through your normally rational decision making.

Yank him by the shirt or something and kiss him.

Eyes flitting up again, you decide to take your chances. Your hand curls into Akaashi’s shirt, yanking him towards you, lips crashing onto his. Several seconds pass and Akaashi stands there limply, his lips unmoving and non-reciprocating. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, feeling utterly mortified as you let go of him. “Atsumu said you wanted to fu- I mean- he said guys liked that sort of thing!”

At the same time, Akaashi begins to speak. “Bokuto said you weren’t interested.”

“ What? ” you sputter, eyes widening. Frustration sets your nerves alight and you fish out your phone, dialing Bokuto’s number, ready to give him an earful. 

“Hey,” Akaashi says, plucking your phone from your hand and setting it down onto a nearby dresser, “think you could do that after I kiss you?”

Your flurry of movements pauses, breath hitching when he steps inside your apartment, the door shutting behind him softly. He smiles down at you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering as he spins you around, pushing you up against the door gently, “y-yeah, I can do that.”

“Yeah?” he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing yours. One of his hands slips up higher, smoothing over the length of your neck to cup your cheek.

You let out an incoherent noise, managing out a jerky nod. Akaashi laughs, tilting your head to the side as he places a soft kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, heart racing uncontrollably in your chest as he drags his lips across your skin, planting another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

His glasses dig into your skin but you can hardly find it in yourself to care, pulling him closer desperately when he slots his lips over yours. Akaashi kisses you heatedly and you whine, arms wrapping around his neck to return his kisses eagerly. His tongue gently parts your lips, hands slipping back down to squeeze at your waist and move you flush against him.

A few stumbles later and you’re pushing his chest, watching as he falls back onto the couch. Akaashi grins, his thighs spreading invitingly as he gets comfortable.

“Come sit on my lap, baby.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You scramble up onto his lap, straddling his hips, lips finding his again. Akaashi groans when you run your fingers through his hair, hips rolling across his lap as he spreads his fingers over your skirt, groping at your ass.

“So- so you do wanna fuck me?” you ask breathily, unable to resist yourself from leaning forward and stealing another kiss.

“I thought I made myself obvious,” Akaashi replies, his hands slipping under your skirt to feel the warm, bare skin of your thighs.

A soft hum leaves you, fingers tracing across his cheek before reaching out to take his glasses off, setting them down. You smile down at him hazily and Akaashi smiles back, maneuvering your body so that you’re laying down, head nestled in the cushions.

You bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, sighing softly when he undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling it apart. Akaashi’s eyes darken when he sees the swell of your breasts in your bra, his hands reaching out to grope at them greedily. You fumble around, unclasping your bra, tossing it behind you.

“So pretty, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips before kissing down your body.

You gasp when his tongue swirls around your nipple, squirming underneath him as his hot mouth envelops it, sucking and licking, even nipping gently making your body twitch. Back arching, you moan, fingers tugging at his soft hair. Akaashi lets out a hum, mouth opening wide to suck your breast into his mouth, groaning when he feels your hips buck underneath him.

“ Fuck ,” Akaashi hisses, his fingers rubbing at your clothed cunt, panties utterly drenched, “you’re dripping. How long have you been like this?”

You flush, looking away. Akaashi clicks his tongue, grabbing your chin to turn your gaze back onto him.

“Tell me,” he coaxes, rucking your skirt up before he tugs your panties up, watching the hard press of the fabric outline your puffy folds.

“Maybe- maybe since you opened that water bottle for me,” you mumble, blinking up at him innocently. 

Akaashi’s grip falters, his brows shooting up in surprise. Your cheeks are hot, eyes dropping to find his cock straining against his trousers, the bulge making you lick your lips.

“That long?” he whispers, leaning in.

“Mhm,” you nod, arms looping around his neck to pull him into a sloppy kiss, tongue and all.

“If I knew it was that easy, I would’ve done it the moment I saw you,” Akaashi smiles, his nose nudging against yours as he continues to rub your pussy through your panties.

“Shut up!” you laugh, pushing at his chest.

He laughs with you, smacking a quick kiss to your cheek before slinking down, pulling your thighs apart. A contented sigh leaves you when he licks up over your ruined panties, mewling softly when he pulls them to the side to get a glimpse of your slick pussy.

“Such a pretty pussy. All of you is so pretty,” he murmurs, pulling your panties off. 

You don’t miss the way he tucks them into his pocket.

Akaashi’s mouth encloses around your clit, sucking with fervor. You let out a strangled moan, fingers fisting his hair roughly, thighs twitching. 

“A- Akaashi,” you whine, hips rolling up to meet his mouth needily, “ hah- oh fuck!- ”

His nose nudges into your clit when he stops suckling on your clit, licking up a wide strip along the length of cunt, a low moan slipping out of him as he watches your cunt clench and flutter around nothing.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rasps, arms curling around your thighs, thumbing apart your folds to press his tongue in deeper, licking over the velvety flesh of your cunt.

You moan again, breath catching in your throat when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud before his tongue presses into your aching pussy, thrusting in and out of you. He makes an obscene sound and you tug at his hair roughly, pushing his face deeper into your cunt, squealing when he shakes his head, tongue swiping all over you.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, beginning to chant drunkenly, “don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Akaashi grunts into your pussy, spreading apart your folds against to spit on your cunt, his tongue swirling around your swollen clit before sucking it into his mouth. He suckles on it hard ; the sensation making your toes curl and eyes squeeze shut tightly. 

“Gonna cum?” he asks, a hoarse laugh leaving him when you push his head back down.

You nod rapidly, hands squeezing at your breasts, pinching and tugging at your own nipples. Akaashi slips his fingers up past your chin and your mouth opens obediently, hips rolling up as you suck on his fingers. 

A whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue laving over it again as he sucks desperately, driving you further and further to the edge.

“Cum on my tongue, baby,” Akaashi whispers, “wanna watch you cum all pretty and needy.”

You don’t need any more encouragement, back arching as your body draws taut. You cum with a cry of his name, squeaking when he licks over your oversensitive pussy, thighs clamping around his head while your fingers tangle in his soft, black hair. 

Akaashi pulls away with one final suckle to your clit, peppering kisses up your body before slotting his lips over yours again. You whine softly, cupping his cheek to return his kisses feverishly, feeling the press of his clothed cock against your inner thigh.

“Take your clothes off,” you say softly, pecking his lips sweetly.

You squirm out of your skirt and top when he gets off of you, watching with hazy eyes as he pulls his shirt up over your head. The flex of his biceps has you letting out a low whine, fingers slipping between your thighs, unable to help yourself, rubbing your clit unabashedly.

Akaashi doesn’t miss the movement, shooting you a lazy grin, his hand smoothing over his trousers, squeezing at his bulge.

“Enjoying the view?” he murmurs, unbuttoning his trousers, “hm, baby?”

“‘m enjoying it a lot,” you reply airily, entranced by the motion of his hand as he grasps himself through his boxers.

Your breath catches in your throat when he pushes his boxers down, tongue feeling heavy as you watch the bob of his cock, heavy and thick. The hardened length twitches when he wraps his hand around himself, pumping his cock, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“T-taste?” you mewl, slipping off the couch and crawling towards him, “wanna taste, ‘kaashi.”

“Needy baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut when he bends, meeting his lips in a short kiss. Akaashi presses the head of his cock against your lips soon after, a moan slipping out of him when he sees the way his pre-cum spreads across your lips.

You lick your lips, mewling at the taste of his pre-cum, mouth opening wider, tongue lolling out.

“Want it,” you whisper, fingers digging into thighs, “please?”

“‘m gonna give it to you,” Akaashi rasps, grasping the base of his cock to smack the head of it against your tongue a few times. “Go ahead, pretty.”

You hum happily, mouth wrapping around his cock, hand curling around the base of it. Akaashi groans, his head tipping back as you squirm on your knees, fingers finding your slippery clit again.

“Just like that,” he whispers when you begin to bob your head, tongue swirling around the head of his cock, suckling gently.

Akaashi’s thighs twitch, the hand tangled in your hair tightening when you shuffle closer, mouth stretching open to take more of him into your mouth. 

You suck and lick, practically dripping onto the carpet beneath you as you hear the grunts and groans that leave Akaashi. He sounds pretty, the little airy gasps and stutters of his breath giving you the encouragement to try and take him deeper, your nose pressing into the black tufts of coarse hair at the base of his cock, before you pull off with watery eyes.

“I might have a hard time letting go of you after this,” Akaashi says, watching as you blink up at him with starry eyes, stroking his hand over your hair as you mouth lazily across the length of his cock. 

“So don’t,” you whisper, laving your tongue across the head of his cock, tasting his pre-cum.

You land a soft kiss to the tip, tilting your head to kiss at his heavy balls. Akaashi stops you before you can suck them into your mouth, dipping his head down to kiss you instead.

“‘m gonna cum if you do that,” he whispers against your lips.

“That’s sort of the point,” you smile, hand stroking along his length.

He snorts, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you up onto your feet. His throbbing cock presses against your stomach as you wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. Akaashi gropes at the fat of your ass appreciatively, both of you standing together as you makeout languidly. 

You pull away for air soon after, hands roaming across his firm chest, eyes growing hazier with the way the muscles of his abdomen flex under your touch. A glob of pre-cum beads at the tip of Akaashi’s cock and you grasp his hand, rocking up to kiss his cheek before pulling him after you.

“Wanna ride my cock?” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe gently when you lead him into your bedroom.

“Y- yeah,” you reply airily, crawling up onto his lap when he sits down, his back against the headboard of your bed.

You rock your hips, grinding your cunt against his hot length, mewling softly when the tip of it nudges against your clit a few times. Akaashi catches your chin, pulling you forward for another filthy kiss, his hands smoothing up and down the length of your back.

“Sink down on it, baby.”

A soft whimper escapes you at his low voice, hands gripping his shoulders as you rise up onto your knees. Akaashi wraps his hand around the base of his cock, holding it for you. His head tips back, a guttural groan leaving him when you sink down on his cock, your nails digging into his skin.

“ Oh- ” you whine, “‘kaashi- hah- ”

“Keiji,” he replies, fingers dimpling the fat of your hips, trying to gain some semblance of control with the way your cunt’s clenching around his cock, “call me Keiji, baby.”

You let out a dazed sigh, rolling your hips and whining again, your own head tipping back.

“K- Keiji, you feel so good.”

Akaashi moans appreciatively in response to your words, landing a spank to your ass to urge you to move. You hiccup, cupping his cheeks, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as you roll your hips one more time and begin to rise and fall on his cock.

He keeps his eyes on you, letting out soft pants as you mewl and whimper out his name, hips swaying back to meet his thrusts when he begins to move his hips too.

“Good girl,” Akaashi whispers, head dipping to suck your breast into his mouth, “gripping me so tight, baby.”

“Keiji,” you mewl, dragging out his name in a needy call.

“‘m right here, pretty,” Akaashi murmurs, arms wrapping around your waist more firmly. 

You squeal when he lifts you up and begins to drop you down onto his cock himself, his face pressing into your chest, leaving desperate, heated open-mouthed kisses against your sweaty skin as he makes you take his cock.

“Oh fuck-,” you begin to gasp out, eyes squeezing shut, “ oh fuck! ”

“Take it,” Akaashi hisses, hands drifting down to grip the fat of your ass tighter, “fucking take my cock, baby.”

A surprised squeak leaves you when he lays you down, his cock pushing into you almost immediately after. Your legs wrap around his hips, hand reaching for his as he fucks his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing lewdly throughout the room.

You scrabble at the bedsheets, trying to find some purchase as Akaashi drives his cock into you harder and faster.

“Gonna make me cum,” he grunts, face pressing into the crook of your neck, his body dropping to be flush against yours, hips rolling to a slow grind.

“‘m gonna cum too,” you say weakly, eyes fluttering as he mouths at your breast lazily. 

Akaashi peers down at you when he pushes himself up, bullying his cock into your cunt, balls pressed snugly against your ass.

“Can I cum inside?” he asks softly, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re a terrible influence,” you sigh, giving him a dazed smile as you pull him down for a kiss, “but yes, you can.”

Akaashi grins, mouth slotting over yours again, thumb rubbing at your clit. He groans when he feels you clench around him, his hips stuttering jerkily when you dig your heels into the backs of thighs, forcing him to push his cock in deeper. 

“Brat,” he hisses, head dropping forward as he lets out a low whine, cock jerking inside of you as he cums.

You squirm, back arching as his thumb rubs harder, thighs twitching as you fall apart on his cock. Akaashi pants against your chest, his eyes squeezed shut as he lets out a few more whines, thick cum filling you up.

He rolls off of you so as to not crush you with his weight, running his hand through his hair. You curl up into his side, leaning forward to kiss his jaw.

“‘m gonna go clean up,” you whisper.

Akaashi nods, patting your hip affectionately, his eyes trained on the sway of your hips as you disappear into the bathroom.

You tug on a fresh shirt and a pair of panties, crawling back into bed to find Akaashi’s pulled his boxers back up over his hips, the manga volume you had been reading last night in his hand.

“It’s good,” you inform him, pressing into his side, head resting on his shoulder as you look over the little panels of drawings.

“I’d hope so,” Akaashi says, his hand rubbing at your side absentmindedly.

“Why?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“I happen to be the editor.”

You stare at him blankly, eyes flitting from his towards the manga. “No way.” You snatch the manga from him, flipping through towards the large page. His name is there in the little lettering, plain as day.

Editing: Akaashi Keiji

He smiles at you, nuzzling into your cheek, pressing several kisses here and there.

“Well,” you say, setting the manga down and wrapping your arms around his neck, “now you have to tell me what’s to come.”

“My lips are sealed,” Akaashi replies, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Keiji!” you whine, pouting up at him.

“Not happening, baby,” he says, shaking his head before leaning forward to kiss the pout off of your mouth.

You let out an irritated huff, pushing his head away when he tries to kiss you again.

“Look at that,” he muses, “you get all sulky like Bokuto.”

“Please don’t insult me.”

[lustspren]

D.A | LUV N DEVOTION / obsession.

Male reader x Wonyoung, Karina, Giselle.

🔙 Previous update (for now) | 📄 LUV N DEVOTION / obsession |

word count: 19.7k

tags: fluffy and princess treatment for wony, cum slut rina, bi, car blowjob, foursome, triple blowjob, elevator sex, daddy kink, fingering, anal, overstimulation, squirt, creampie(s), rough sex, pussy eating, anal fingering, facial

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You knew that after that night in Tokyo things with Wony would never be the same, but not so drastically different.

Saying you were in love was not doing justice to what you felt for that damn girl now. Without going any further, the best way to describe it for you was obsession. Devotion. Not in a sick way, or toxic; you weren't that kind of guy. But since that October 12th, the only girl you thought about every day, 24 hours a day, was her. Only her.

In a way, that made you feel bad about yourself, because you had never felt that way for a person, not even for Hanni—from whom you were forced to emotionally detach yourself for a while at her request—or for Sully—who had simply started to like another person named Lee Chaeyoung and who was her girlfriend.

However, Wony made you happy on so many levels and facets that thinking about that had become something secondary. Something unimportant. Things were the way they were, and they happened because they had to happen that way. Period. Your conscience was clear: you were not to blame for your now failed relationship with Hanni, and you were not to blame for Sully's feelings leaning towards someone else. After all, you still loved them both, and their happiness was your happiness.

But if there was one thing you had to be thankful for, it was that all that chain of unfortunate events had brought you to where you are now: at the feet of a girl who reciprocated what you felt for her and who radiated perfection through every pore.

Wony turned out to be the antithesis of everything she seemed to you during all that time in which you felt hatred for her. You claimed left and right that she was a pretentious and spoiled bitch (she was just spoiled), and that you could never be her friend because she repelled you. Nothing could be further from the truth. While she had her bad attitudes like basically anyone, her virtues overshadowed everything; she was easily one of the sweetest and most caring people you had ever met in your life. Every single thing she did had you either sighing or smiling like an absolute idiot, and throughout the time you had spent together both in October and right now in November, you realized that she was everything you wanted and more.

And there was nothing more pleasurable and fulfilling than feeling reciprocated by her. By that monument made woman.

It was awards night. MMA's. You couldn't see each other on the day of the MAMA's because she had a pending appointment the next day and she didn't get permission, but things for that night were different: if everything went well, you would take her to dinner and then spend the night together. You were mad excited about it, and you couldn't wait for the hours to pass quickly so you could see her.

But for now, the priority was your damn job.

For some reason you had decided to do your daily stream at night, which was pretty stupid of you considering you knew you'd have to miss the red carpet as well as the awards and performances. Then you told yourself that just wasn't going to happen, and after only four hours you decided to cut it off just so you could turn on the TV and watch her.

You didn't regret it. Of course not. You had put on the stream just in time to see her and her members come out onto the carpet, and you didn't know how the hell you were going to function like a normal person again after seeing how outstandingly beautiful she was that night, with that high bun and that tight dress that hugged her curvy body and made it look like a total delight. You were so stunned that you couldn't help but take out your phone and record her through the TV screen until she left.

And with the phone in hand you couldn't help but text her either. You knew she wouldn't be able to answer you for a while, since you knew she was also going to be MC during the start of the awards. But you still had to let her know. You had to let her know how obsessed you were with her.

It was funny, because as soon as you sent the messages and read them you realized how screwed you were with that girl. It was a problem to fall so much at the feet of a person, it always was. But fuck it. If you were in a free fall into a bottomless abyss you were doing it with a big grin. It was something you talked about a lot with Sohyun and Hayoung. They had both insisted that you were giving yourself too much of a hard time with the matter, and that there was no point in thinking about the past or the future if your present was being this pleasant. Of course you objected using your recent history as an argument, but if there was one thing those two were good at it was giving you a good ass whooping so you would stop being a dramatic bitch.

In the end, well, you shut up and lowered your head to listen. Dealing with stressful situations rationally was their forte, not yours.

Time passed and eventually the awards show started. Wony came out as MC, looking radiant and charming as always to introduce the awards and welcome them. During all those segments, about an hour passed, and she didn't show up anymore. Then you got texts from her.

You swore to god you were going to throw the phone out the window and follow it closely. Instead, you opened that picture and stared at it with a rapt smile until you snapped out of the trance.

Screwed up. You were really screwed up and two steps away from asking for her hand in marriage. You had to fucking control yourself a little.

But god, she was like a fucking angel fallen to earth. She was your princess. Yours alone. She...

Stop. You really needed to stop. You were letting your feelings carry you along and you weren't thinking with your brain.

Now, that didn't stop you from feeling jealous when Wony, at the beginning of her performance, danced and was picked up by another guy. Wonderful.

She looked beautiful, yes, and you were extremely proud and happy for her. But that damn guy's hands... you were going crazy. It burned inside you, like you had lava pumping through your veins. It really wasn't that big of a deal, you knew the guy was just being professional. Still, you expected his hands to fall off for some mysterious reason right after that performance.

And now it was your Italianness that was thinking for you. For the last time, you had to calm down.

After that, the hours passed normally. You were able to see many of the performances you wanted, like IVE, Aespa and tripleS, but you were forced to miss others like IDLE and ATEEZ because you had to get ready to go out.

The occasion of the night was special, and that called for you to dress as such. But you had a little block, so you had no choice but to call your trusted seamstress. Well, one of them. You didn't want to talk to the other at that moment.

"Do you have some Bottega Veneta?" Danielle Marsh asked on your phone. You had been on a video call for about twenty minutes, and you had dedicated yourself to showing her almost your entire closet. "The winter collection is gorgeous."

You chuckled and looked to the right of the closet-room.

"Well, it's funny you say that, because..." you walked over and took down the tobacco-colored bonded leather trench coat from Bottega Veneta's latest winter collection. You showed it to Danielle, who opened her eyes wide and brought her face closer to the camera.

"Oh my god!" she sighed. "That thing it's like 11 thousand bucks, Ezio."

“It’s worth every penny,” you said, removing the hook. “The leather quality is insane.”

Danielle was about to say something, but apparently someone else entered her room and her attention was diverted. Unfortunately you recognized the voice, and your expression darkened.

“Do you know where my AirPods are? I can’t fucking find them,” you heard Hanni ask Dani. “Who are you talking to?”

“Uh...” Dani looked at the screen to see you and then back at her. “With… Ezio.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“Okay…” another small silence. “I’ll keep looking,” Hanni finally replied, and you heard the door close.

Dani once again focused on you.

“Sorry about… well, that,” she said, visibly uncomfortable being in the middle of your conflict.

“Don’t worry,” you shook your head, forcing yourself not to think about it. “We got the most important thing done, now we just need to pick out a good pair of shoes and accessories.”

The coat you pulled out ended up being the final choice, along with black wool trousers, a black Versace turtleneck sweater, and black brushed leather Prada lace-ups. As accessories you opted for rings: a Bulgari Serpenti on one hand and a Buccellati from the Opera Tulle collection on the other, in this case shaped like a green flower made of emerald. Nothing modest. But you weren't interested in being modest; you loved to show off.

Besides, you had a gift for your princess. What you had spent on it you preferred not to remember, but you were sure it was the first time you had genuinely spent so much money on a person (the Rome vacation with Sohee in September didn't count, the expense had been on yourself too). To you that meant a lot. But she deserved it, you were sure.

Now dressed you went out to the living room to wait for Wony's message. You expected a text, but instead she called you.

"Hi?" you answered the call, with the car keys in your other hand.

"Hi dear," Wony answered on the other end of the line. "You can come pick me up now."

"Aight on my way," you said, standing up. "But why didn't you just text me?"

You walked over to gather everything you were going to bring, which was your wallet and the gift box for Wony.

"Because I had something to propose to you."

"Huh?"

"You see, I know the normal thing would be to pick me up at the service entrance, but..." she paused briefly. "Why don't you pick me up at the main entrance?"

You chuckled. That was ridiculous.

"Good joke sweetheart, now tell me what you want."

"Baby, it's not a joke," she replied, and from the tone she used you could tell she was serious.

You stood there dumbfounded, staring at the wall.

"Vicky, sweetheart, have you gone crazy?"

"No!" she protested. "Just hear me out. We don't have to be so brazen, but I don't want to sneak around either."

"You're an idol, baby. Shit, you're like a goddess here in Korea. You'll get into trouble, a big one."

"Ezio, I know what I'm doing, and there's no media covering any group's departure here. It’s gonna be fine!"

"You don't know that, you know what those Dispatch bastards are like."

"Starship has no dating restrictions! I mean not for me at least, I don’t give a fuck about those asholes."

"And that saves you from your weird fans? Look what they did to that poor Riize guy!"

"Darling, I'm shielded from all sides, and I don't give a shit what those weirdos think about me or not."

"I know, I know," you sighed. "But honey, keep in mind who I am and the things I do and say on stream. I don't want to make the problem any bigger because I am the one dating you. You don't deserve that."

Wony giggled.

"Oh baby, being you is the main reason why I don't want to hide you, are you even listening to yourself and how cute you are?"

And just like that, she ended the entire argument. It felt like a prime Mike Tyson uppercut, but instead of knocking out a tooth from you, it made your cheeks blush. That was called being beyond down.

"I-I… should go out and pick you up right now?" you asked.

"Yes, silly, that's what I just said. Come here and pick up your princess."

Your fucking princess. Why did that shit sound so good?

The level of obedience was such that you didn't even warn that you were going to hang up. That had to leave her baffled and maybe a little angry, but you were determined to get the hell out of there and hurry to pick her up just to plant a big kiss on those perfect lips.

After a little check of your look and the things you had to bring, you went down to the parking lot of your building complex and got in the car to head to the venue where the MMA's were being held. The security belt was well established from corner to corner, and from what you could see there were no visible photographers covering the idols' departures. Wony was right, but that made the anxiety you felt about it lessen.

In order to get through the security belt you had to make calls, one to Wony and another to the IVE manager so they could get you the authorization. The situation reminded you When you had to pick up Hanni in Milan from the Gucci event, but here they were much stricter and more protocolary when it came to managing everything. It was a bit of a headache, since the lack of cooperation from the guards was coupled with the refusal of the girls' manager to let Wony go with you there, in full view of everyone. The situation was a mess, but half an hour later, all the parties involved agreed and you were allowed to enter with the only condition that your license plate would have to be covered, which was even better for you.

You parked the car diagonally at the entrance of the venue, behind a couple of vans that were being loaded with boxes. In the distance you saw familiar faces, which was to be expected, but only a few recognized your car; Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho from ATEEZ, Seoyeon and Nakyung from tripleS, Shuhua and Miyeon, and you thought you saw Karina and Winter behind a couple of people. Everyone stared at you in bewilderment, and rightly so, because you weren't supposed to be there.

The only ones who dared approach you—with proper supervision from a member of their staff—were the guys from ATEEZ, who you'd hung out with a couple of times since that IDLE party last year. You rolled down the copilot window so you could talk to them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mingi asked, dapping you up. "Someone's gonna kick your ass."

You almost answered him in English, since you'd been talking to Wony in that language all day. You had to switch to Korean.

"I'm expecting someone," you replied, as you dapped the other two up. 

"You're expecting someone? Here?" Seonghwa said with a chuckle. "Isn't that a like too reckless?"

"Tell her that. She's just itching to get into trouble."

"Woah, and you look expensive today," Yunho said, tugging at the fabric of the coat on your shoulder. "Dinner maybe?"

"You're right," you smiled, and behind them you could notice a new silhouette walking towards you. "Ah, and I think she's coming."

The boys moved aside and your line of vision was clear. Wony was walking towards you, in the exact same dress she had worn to the opening of the awards and with the same cute high bun. Her walk was confident; she knew she was untouchable at that moment, that she was the center of attention and all the spotlights were on how beautiful she looked. As soon as she met your gaze you both smiled, but her lips remained in a slight graceful curve to maintain elegance.

"Alright move aside apes," you said, and in a move even more risky than just being there, you got out of the car and walked around the front to open the passenger door the moment Wony was only a couple of meters away.

"Ah, this guy hit the gold mine," Mingi muttered in disbelief before bowing in greeting to Wony, Seonghwa and Yunho imitating him. "Hi."

"Hi!" Wony bowed back to the three boys before locking eyes with you. "Hi sweetie, thanks," she said, now in perfect, pretty English, before climbing into the passenger seat. You closed the door and saw the ATEEZ guys.

"I'm off, gentlemen," you said, walking past them to circle back around your car. "Take care okay?"

"You too!" the three of them said at the same time.

"Oh, are you doing anything tomorrow?" Yunho asked you. "We were planning on going to a club, a couple of the guys from Boynextdoor and Riize are going too."

"Uhm..." you opened the door and leaned in to look at Wony, who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow. Yes, you were definitely doing something tomorrow. "I can't, I'll be busy," you replied, looking at them over the roof of the car.

"Of course you will be," Mingi said with a laugh, stepping away from Wony's window and the curb.

"Yeah, sorry. But hey, you like FIFA right? You can come over sometime."

"Yeah that would be cool. We'll call you. See you later Tiramisu boy!" Mingi said goodbye, and Seonghwa and Yunho waved goodbye as well.

You finally got into the car, rolled up the tinted windows and looked at Wony, who was staring back at you.

"Tiramisu boy?" she asked with a chuckle.

"They met me eating tiramisu at a party last year, that's the explanation," you replied, adjusting your coat and making the car's engine roar a little to warm it up.

"Mmm, interesting, are you going to kiss me or not?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Oh yeah come here."

You leaned towards her and cupped the side of her face with your left hand before bringing your lips together. Wony took that hand and caressed the back of it with her thumb, while the other one held onto your forearm. You could have kissed her for a while longer if it were up to you, but because of the location you had to settle for a few seconds.

"You did amazing tonight, my sweet girl," you said as you pulled away from her lips, looking into her eyes with your faces barely separated. "And god, you look fucking gorgeous."

"You think so? Thank you darling," she replied, looking at you with a sparkle in her eyes worthy of the most beautiful starry night. Then she looked you up and down. "You look very handsome too. Almost as perfect as me."

You let out a laugh, and you settled back into your seat to put a hand on the steering wheel.

"Sure, sure," you said, backing up and then squeezing past the vans and driving down the street. "You looked like Jesus Christ walking on water back there, and getting into a Ferrari on top of that. Not discreet at all."

"Honey, what can I do if I'm that pretty and you decided to have this thing?" she asked with a hand on her chest. "It's not my fault."

"I know it's not, but getting you out of there was a fucking problem," you said, looking at the road. "I really hope you're not in trouble, baby."

"I won't be, silly," she said, placing her hand over yours on the drive mode levers. "Is everything set up at the restaurant?"

"I called on the way to the venue to make sure, so yeah, there won't be any problems."

"Will we have company?"

"Uh... yeah, a baseball player and a model or some shit, with their dates of course. No one who cares about us being there."

"How do you know that?"

"I asked!" you replied, as if it were a stupid question. "Imagine if there happens to be a newspaper editor, we're screwed!"

Wony giggled, leaned over to cup the left side of your face and planted a delicate peck on your cheek.

"My sweet boy, you worry too much," she said, still close to your face. "Let yourself go and enjoy the night with me, please?"

You shouldn't have because you were on a busy road, but for a moment you took your eyes off the road only to turn your face and give her a quick succession of pecks on the lips.

"Hey!" she pulled away laughing, grabbing your chin to turn your face forward. "Don't kill us, donkey!"

You just smiled, and drove for a little over a minute until you remembered something you weren't going to let slide.

"Oh, were that guy's hands comfortable or...?"

"Huh?" Wony turned to look at you, having been caught off guard.

"The hands of the guy you danced with," you said. "They must have been really soft because you looked extremely comfortable in them."

Wony let out a laugh.

"Honey, are you jealous of a dancer I'll never see again?" she asked in disbelief.

"Nah."

Yeah you were. Not in a serious way, but you were willing to tease her about it for a while.

"Well, it's good you mention it because yes, his hands were quite soft," she said, shifting her gaze to her window.

It was serious now.

"Oh, okay," you nodded slowly, and tightened your hand on the steering wheel. "You should tell him to take you to dinner then."

Wony looked at you, and out of the corner of your eye you noticed the mischievous smile on her face.

"I can actually call him right now if you want."

"Yup, go ahead," you nodded with a carefree wave of your hand.

Your face must have been a picture at that moment, because she made a move to take her phone out of her handbag but quickly retracted.

"Honey, I'm kidding!" she said with a giggle, shaking your arm to get you to take your resting bitch face off. "Don't be like that!"

"Don't talk to me right now."

Wony was quiet for a moment, waiting for you to say you were joking too.

"Are you serious?" she asked, and your response was silence. "Alright, I won't talk then."

Then, in a move you should have expected, Wony kicked off her heels, climbed onto her knees in her seat, and bent over your crotch in a perfect arc that highlighted her wide hips and cute ass.

"What are you doing?" you frowned, lifting one arm to rest on her back.

"Just what you asked me to do: no talking," she replied, and began working on the button and zipper of your pants.

"That's not what... oh fuck you," you gasped, as Wony pulled out your limp cock and licked it from balls to top.

You couldn't form a single word of protest from then on. Wony took you into her mouth, sucking you several times until your cock grew and hardened between her spongy lips. Now fully hard, she placed both hands on your thighs and slowly pumped her head up and down the length of your shaft, using her tongue to lick the front with each pump.

Wony's blowjobs were usually messy and frenetic since she was prodigious at it, but you were surprised when she now opted for a slower, more leisurely pace, allowing you to enjoy the silkiness of her lips and the texture of her glossy lipstick in detail. It was perfect, because it was driving you crazy and at the same time it kept you from getting dirty for your night.

When you stopped at a red light you could finally look down and admire how she pumped her head at different angles to suck and lick every possible corner of your shaft. Then you turned to the right to see her raised ass. You couldn’t lift her dress up, so you had to settle for groping over it. Wony purposely moaned around your cock, and then you couldn't help but remove your hand from her ass and put it on her neck to push her down. She was forced to deepthroat you, but it wasn't a problem due to her skill at it, so she effortlessly held you there for a few long seconds until she pulled you out with a soft gasp.

"Are you sucking my jealousy off or what?" you gasped, forced to look at the road again.

Wony certainly didn't respond, she was determined to make you cum as fast and hard as possible, so after a few kisses and licks around your tip she took you back into her mouth, now helping herself with her hand to jerk you off at the same time.

She brought you to the edge of climax in no time, and the only possible place you could reach your hand was on her slim waist, while you unconsciously twisted your hips upwards and let out soft moans. Deducing that you were close, Wony dispensed with her hand and went back to using only her mouth, now with slightly faster and shorter pumps. Not even ten seconds passed when you exploded inside her mouth.

"Oh god!" you moaned, tempted to put your hand on her head to push it down if it weren’t because that would ruin her bun.

Jets of cum were discharged one after another into Wony's mouth, who pumped her head very slowly over every inch of throbbing flesh. You used all your brain power in order not to swerve and drive as straight as possible, in fact, you had to use the steering wheel manettino to put the driving mode on comfort, but that caused you to slow down and a couple of cars behind you to honk. You couldn't do much about it, since your toes were still curled and your legs tense as you filled her mouth.

When your climax finally passed you came back to your senses and stepped on the accelerator so as not to disturb the cars behind you, still breathing heavily. After swallowing your entire load, Wony pulled you out of her mouth with a soft pop, and raised herself to get closer to your ear.

"You're not just the only guy I've ever let cum in my mouth or on my face," she whispered with a hand on your thigh. "You're also the only guy whose cum I could have for breakfast every morning without getting tired. Keep that in mind before throwing another jealous fit," she then licked your cheek from jaw to cheekbone. "I fucking belong to you, and I have zero interest in anyone else."

Another fucking hook straight to the chin, and this was your knockout. There was no way you were recovering from that.

"Do you have anything else to say besides 'I'm sorry'?" she asked, tucking your cock back into your boxers and adjusting your pants back up.

"I... no," you shook your head slowly. "Sorry, babe."

"Good boy," she said, giving you a peck on the cheek before settling back into her seat.

There was still a long way to go to the Shilla hotel and there wasn't much else to talk about at the moment, so you opted to connect into the car's sound system and put on some chill songs from your playlist.

It was a nice trip, one of the most peaceful and satisfying you had ever had with someone. Even though you weren't talking, the simple fact of knowing that you had each other fulfilled you, that was evident by how you constantly sought out each other's contact, whether it was holding your hands or placing your hands on your thighs. Ironic to say the least. Three months ago, imagining yourself in that situation with her would have seemed unpleasant, almost blasphemous, and now it felt like a lucid dream from which you didn't want to wake up.

For fucks sake, you were in love. And it was all thanks to her and the time you had spent together since that night in Tokyo. At first you were a little skeptical, but you made the excellent decision to give her the benefit of the doubt. Of course, she didn't disappoint you, as she took advantage of her opportunity to show herself just as she wanted you to see her. From that moment on, it only took a couple of weeks for her to take over your heart and secure herself with iron feet

She was your princess now, she belonged to you and you wanted to give her everything. Fucking cheesy, but you loved it.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do," you said, already a couple of minutes away from arriving at the hotel. "A bodyguard will accompany you inside while I park the car, then we'll meet in the lobby."

"Can't I just stay with you to park and then go in together?" Wony asked, annoyed.

"Honey, we already took quite a risk picking you up from the venue, and that was even in a controlled environment."

"Ugh fine," she said. "But just this once!"

"I think you keep forgetting who you are, what country you live in, and what kind of fans you have," you replied, turning a corner after a stoplight.

"Fuck that. Someone needs to normalize it someday."

"And you wanna be that someone? In the prime of your career?"

"It happened to Jennie when she dated Kai!" she protested. "No one cared and everyone got over it."

"That's a completely different context."

"In what way?"

"Jennie dated a guy who is deified here, and you are dating a guy who makes a fool of himself on the internet and has more than one stupid controversy for the stuff he says. Do you think that benefits you right now?"

"Honey, how do you know if it benefits me or not?" Wony asked.

"You're perfect in front of the cameras. Literally the perfect idol."

"So what?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I am... I don't know."

Wony chuckled.

"Your problem is that you're not as exemplary as I am in the public eye?"

"Aha."

"Why do you care?"

At that point you made a left turn and entered the slope that curved across the hill towards the hotel, which took up the entire view in the distance.

"Fuck, I don't know Vicky," you sighed. "I just don't want it to lead to anything bad for you, that's all."

Wony put her hand on yours, squeezed it, and then brought it to her lips to kiss the back of it.

"Gosh, what did I do to deserve you," she said. "Just trust me darling, I wouldn't be so sure if I didn't know what I was doing."

You remained silent as you made your way through the last stretch of the hill and rounded the bend to park in front of the smaller, wider, traditionally-styled building that housed the hotel lobby and a few luxury shops. The bodyguard who was supposed to escort Wony inside was already waiting by her door, hands clasped together and eyes scanning everywhere.

"I'm going to ask you one last time..." you said, and turned to look at her. "Are you sure about all of this? About everything you've told me? We're getting into murky territory, darling."

"Thousand percent," Wony nodded, looking into your eyes.

You nodded back and then looked at the bodyguard, who was still waiting behind the white line that delimited the drivable area from the walkable area. You were thinking about something, seriously considering it, and if you did, there was no turning back. Maybe it was a stretch to think so, but it could be a life-changing decision.

Fuck it, you were no weakling.

"Aight, just for the record, you asked for it," you said, then reached an arm in front of her to roll down her window. The bodyguard immediately leaned when he saw you looking at him. "Good evening, Mr. Cho. Are any of these spots free?" you pointed behind him.

"Oh, yes," he nodded. "Follow my directions, please."

The bodyguard walked over the white line and stood in front of your car, then began walking backwards to guide you to an open space in front of a sedan with tinted windows.

"Uhm... what are you doing, sweetie?" Wony looked at you with a frown. "Wasn’t I supposed to...?"

"Stai zitto, amore," you said, focused on not running over Mr. Cho.

"Non voglio!" she replied back in Italian, and you laughed.

"You've been practicing huh?" you raised an eyebrow, finally parking in the spot you were told to.

"Well yeah! I want to be able to scold you in your language someday."

You pressed the touch button on the steering wheel twice to turn off both the engine and the car.

"You can do it in Japanese, and without me knowing what the fuck you're saying," you said with a smile, grabbing the car's remote to put it in a pocket of your coat.

"The point is that you know what I'm saying, baby, not the other way around."

"We'll have to work hard at the private lessons then," you winked at her, then got out of the car to walk around and open the door for Wony, offering her your hand.

"Huh? Really?" she asked, looking at your hand, her mouth agape and a cute glint in her eyes.

"You have my unconditional trust, my sweet girl," you said.

Wony looked into your eyes, blinked a few times, and took your hand to slide her legs out of the car. Then, as soon as you closed the passenger door, she stood in front of you with her hands on your chest and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, in full view of whoever was passing by at the moment or watching.

You couldn't help but smile at the boldness of that damn girl.

"Come on, let's go inside," you said, and put an arm behind her waist to hold her and walk into the lobby with her.

Upon entering, you went straight to the reception desk to check in, it was then that you were told that you were allowed to take the elevator up to the restaurant floor. Mr. Cho escorted you upstairs, and led you to a small foyer before the dining area.

“I’ll wait outside if you need anything, Mr. Leone,” he said, and then opened the double doors in front of you.

“Thank you, Mr. Cho,” you nodded, and walked past Wony into the restaurant.

The dining room was a small, elegant and refined space, with cream-colored walls decorated with subtle textured patterns and nice warm lighting provided by circular hanging metal lamps. On the other hand, the floor was covered by a beige interwoven carpet, and the tables, dressed with crisp white tablecloths, were accompanied by champagne-colored chairs with curved backs and metallic details. To your left was a mirrored wall, with a pair of decorative panels with red-to-gold gradients, and to your right, three windows separated by pillars, which provided a beautiful view of Seoul.

The other two couples that would be there that night besides you were already inside, one settled in on the left and the other on the right at the back. You didn't know the baseball player who was there since you didn't like the sport, but the model turned out to be Yoon Young Bae, who had done campaigns for Gucci and Prada in the past. Your table was the one next to hers.

If it had been another occasion and another place, you would have asked for a photo, but for the moment you only settled for a bow to both her and the rest of the people present. Then you focused on your date.

“Here, your grace,” you said, opening the chair for Wony.

“Thank you, dear,” she replied with a nod, and took a seat with her handbag on her lap. You placed your hands on her shoulders, which caught her attention and made her turn to look up at you.

“I have a surprise for you before we start,” you said.

Wony raised both eyebrows.

“Surprise? For me?” she placed a hand on her chest.

“Aha, close your eyes baby.”

Wony complied and looked straight ahead before closing her eyes. You pulled the turquoise gift box out of one of your inner pockets, placed it in front of her face, and opened it to reveal the necklace you had bought her, a Tiffany Victoria Diamond Vine worth around $150k. A huge hit to your wallet, but one you were fortunately able to afford since you had finished paying off your apartment just at the beginning of November.

"Alright, open," you said.

When Wony opened her eyes and saw the necklace she immediately gasped and brought her hands to her mouth in surprise. She turned to look at you, and then back at the necklace. And then back at you, and then back at the necklace.

"Baby, oh my f..." she was about to curse, but remembered where she was and retracted her words. "Oh my god!"

"Come on, take it," you nodded, handing the box into her hands.

Wony examined the necklace inside the box for a couple more seconds before pulling it out and setting the box on the table.

"Ezio, it's gorgeous!" she said, putting the necklace between her fingers to get a closer look at the diamonds embedded in the platinum. "It's too much, really, you didn't have to..."

"Nuh-uh," you hushed her. "Yes, I had to, it's the least you deserve, my sweet girl," you then leaned down and showered her cheek with kisses.

"Thank you, darling, I swear I don't know what to say," Wony said, still stunned, turning her face to meet your lips and give them a small kiss since the place didn't allow more, out of respect for the other diners.

"You don't have to say anything, the important thing is that you liked it."

"I love it!" she corrected you. "Would you help me?"

"Sure," you nodded.

You helped Wony change her necklace, taking off the one she already had and putting on the one you had given her instead. You stood by her side to see how it looked, and you realized that it was probably one of the best investments of your life, as the diamonds enhanced her royal aura and fit perfectly on her beautiful neck.

After helping her with the necklace and taking a couple of pictures for your personal memory, you finally took the seat on the other side of the table. A few seconds later, a waiter was with you, ready to take your order. First you ordered your starters and drinks, Hamachi Usuzukuri for you and Kumamoto Fresh Oysters for her, accompanied by a bottle of Barolo DOCG Red Wine. After about 45 minutes you moved on to the main course, and another half hour later you were eating dessert.

"So what do you have to do in the next few days?" you asked, with your Matcha Tiramisu half-eaten. "You must have the day off tomorrow, I guess."

Your entire conversation in those almost two hours had been based on her telling you all about her days at both MAMA and MMA, and how stressful it was to have to attend to all that with comeback preparations just around the corner. You also talked about your job, but no matter what you said, nothing created a worse mental burden than hers.

"Yeah tomorrow I'm free," Wony replied, looking at her Raspberry Lychee Mochi. "But this week we have the live for the IVE anniversary and the recording of a 1,2,3 IVE, with zombies."

"Zombies?" you raised an eyebrow.

Wony nodded, cutting off a small piece of mochi and popping it into her mouth while you drank your wine. The bottle was already a few fingers less than half full. She had liked it a lot more than you expected.

"Uhm, I don't really have much of an idea of ​​what we're going to do but I know we'll have helmets with cameras."

You chuckled.

"Oh, that's going to be fun," you said with a smile. "You know, watching you run around."

"That's what you say, but I'll be terrified!"

As she spoke your phone vibrated in your pocket. Checking it you saw that it was texts from Rina, and thinking it wasn't important you ignored her for the moment. But about five minutes later the phone vibrated again repeatedly. Somewhat annoyed, you pulled out your phone again to open the chat, only to let out a slight bitter groan.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Wony asked, seeing you staring at the screen with a frown. You just showed her your phone. "This has to be a joke." she said as she finished reading.

"At least she had the decency to wait until this hour," you said, and with a heavy breath you began to share a few messages with her.

"So? What are we going to do?" Wony asked, not looking at you but at the view of Seoul through the window. She definitely wasn't happy at all.

"We were going home anyway, right?" you replied. "Just that well, we'll have some company."

"Yeah, that's what I didn't want," she said, one side of her face resting on her knuckles.

"Baby," you reached across the table and took her hand. "Tomorrow I'll be all yours, all day. It'll just be this early morning."

"Can't you just tell them to go away?"

"That would be too rude of me, sweetie, I'm not like that."

"Yeah, that's why I like you this much, ugh," she rolled her eyes and finally looked at you. "But I don't want it to be a recurring thing, for real. I'll let it go this time because they're already there."

"I get it babe," you nodded. "It won't happen again."

"When I'm with you I want you to be all to myself," she said, gently squeezing your hand. "I hate sharing, and you know that."

"I know that perfectly well," you nodded again. "And you have my word."

"Alright then let's go,” she let go of your hand. “I don't want to keep them waiting so late."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Yup, let's just order this to go."

"Aight, if you say so."

You called the waiter over and asked him to give you the bill and take the rest of the desserts to take away. After about ten minutes, with everything already taken care of, you and Wony left the hotel to get in the car and head to your apartment.

On the way you couldn't think of anything else but how you were going to kill Rina as soon as you saw her. She had been acting like that ever since that night you and Isa spent together, and you understood perfectly why because you felt something similar. But she was also prone to doing that, to showing up without full notice hoping that you would make time for her. You never had a problem with it, but this was the first time it coincided with something more important.

It was partly your fault tho, and you had to admit it. That night you had let out a side of you that was probably the closest to Podrick Payne in terms of sex that you had ever been in your life. Rina had been absolutely delighted with you thanks to that, but she hadn't been the only one,; you were kinda obsessed as well, because she was bordering on the perfection of sex appeal: amazing tits, pretty ass, perfect thighs, hot tummy, face card to die for and adorably fun personality.

And on top of that, she was the purest definition of a bottom you had ever seen in your life, surpassing even Sullyoon, which in itself was a big deal.

In fact, you had a feeling that you were going to get into a big mess because of your sexual chemistry with her, but you weren't going to give it any thought at that moment.

After about 20 minutes of a quiet ride, you finally arrived at your apartment complex, parked the car in your assigned spot and went with Wony straight to the ground floor of your building. There, Rina and Aeri were waiting, sitting on the edge of the artificial mini waterfall to the left of the elevator while looking at something on Rina's phone.

"May I know why you're still wearing those clothes?" you asked, approaching, now in English because you knew that everyone there spoke it—maybe Rina a little less—, seeing that they were still in stage outfits under their hats and wide down jackets.

"Because we haven't gone home," Rina answered, standing up to walk towards the two of you with Aeri, who greeted Wony with a smile and a reciprocal hug. "We went to get something to eat because Minjeong-ah was craving something and we felt like having some fun," she switched back to Korean.

"By invading my house?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, as Wony now hugged Rina. You thanked god that they had a good relationship with each other. "You literally live alone."

"Yeah, but my apartment was further away than yours," she shrugged. "And your balcony has a better view than mine."

You sighed, and nodded for everyone to follow you to the elevator.

"Did something happen with Minjeong and Ning? It's weird that they're not here too," you said back in English, and pressed a button for the elevator to go down.

"They were both exhausted and wanted to sleep," Aeri replied behind you.

"Just like Liz," Wony said beside you, holding your hand.

"It's because they're the main vocals, and we all sing live," Rina said with a sigh.

A ding sounded and the elevator doors opened. The four of you stepped inside, Wony standing in front of you and Rina and Aeri at your sides. You pressed the button that would take you to the 28th floor, and the doors closed again.

"You sing quite a bit in all the songs too, how come you're not exhausted too?" you asked.

"Because my desire to s-... to drink was greater than my exhaustion," Rina replied, and as you turned to look at her she avoided your gaze. You had noticed what she was going to say, but you hoped Wony hadn't.

"I don't see any bottles anywhere, woman," you said upon realization. "Do you think I have a liquor store at home or what?"

"Ah, it's because we don't have a car and you do," Aeri replied. "It's easier than telling our manager to drive us."

"Then why on earth are we going up to the flat when we could have gone right now!" you yelled.

"Because we're going to change clothes, duh," Rina said.

You let out a tired sigh, closed your eyes, and leaned your head back against the wall. Wony on the other hand couldn't help but laugh.

"What a bloody pain in the ass," you whispered to yourself.

A few seconds later the elevator arrived at your floor. The doors opened, and Wony stepped ahead of the three of you to lead the way.

"Are we all going?" you asked as you made your way down the hall.

"I'll stay, sweetheart," Wony said in front of you. "I don't feel like another car ride today."

"Can I stay with her?" Aeri asked as you now took the lead since the next door was yours. "So we can cook something for the guests."

You paused with your key and gaze on the lock, then blinked a few times and took a deep breath.

"Guests?" you asked quietly, not wanting to get upset.

"It'll be a few people!" Rina said before you imploded. "We don't mean to make a fuss, really."

"And you can invite someone too, don't you have any friends?" Aeri asked.

You sighed.

"Yeah but it's 2:30 in the morning," you said, and finally opened the door to immediately find Rory and Helios waiting on the other side. "Hi babies."

"Ahhhh hi sweetie!" Rina squealed back in Korean, immediately scooping Rory into her arms as you all filed into the apartment. She was her darling.

"Girl, we're going to have to look up recipes online because I have no idea how to cook," Wony said, probably talking to Aeri as you dropped your stuff on the dining table and went to close the window blinds.

"Do you know how to chop things and turn on a stove?" Aeri asked.

"Uhu."

"Then you're useful."

"Hey, you," you pointed at Rina, who was standing in the middle of the living room with Rory still in her arms. "Hurry up and change, it's not 4 o'clock."

"Aw, I'll have to keep giving you kisses later, Rory," she said to your cat, then set her down before looking at you. "I'm going to your room."

"Ash you wish but come on," you hurried her over with a wave of your hand.

Rina, being the obedient sub that she was, hurried down the hall and into your room. You took off your coat, left it on one of the living room chairs and waited for her near the hallway exit. Ten minutes later she came out, dressed in the outfit she had worn to the awards carpet only without the bow in her hair, now loose and with pretty curls.

The two of you left the apartment and went straight to the elevator. You went in first, and as soon as you turned around, Rina surprised you by throwing her arms around your neck and crashing her lips flooragainst yours. It was then that you realized why you were really rushing her so much, because you wrapped your arms around her and kissed her back without a shred of hesitation.

After pressing the button for the ground floor, you instinctively leaned against the wall of the elevator, Rina's perfect body pressed against yours and your arms around her waist. The kiss heated up quickly, and before you knew it you were already groping each other, her hand rubbing your cock through your pants and you squeezing her firm ass cheeks through your dress. You hadn't even thought about it, it was something that came out of pure instinct.

"Would you fuck me in here daddy? Please?" she asked softly, between kisses that became more passionate and sloppy by the second and with a squeeze to your already hard bulge.

"Here and now?" you asked back, with both hands on her ass. "Are you that horny today?"

"Mhum," she nodded with a moan against your lips, unbuttoning your pants and lowering the zipper. "Very much daddy. Just looking at you makes me so horny."

"Can't you wait until later when things are hotter?" You said that, but your hands had lifted her short dress up to her waist and were now busy squeezing her soft, spongy, delicious ass cheeks.

"Aniyo, I want you now," she replied, taking your cock out from inside your boxers to stroke it. "Those three daesang don't celebrate themselves."

"Fuck, that's right," you said, pulling away from her lips for a moment to look into her eyes. "Congratulations baby."

"Thanks, but I need you to fuck me right now," she said, and kissed you again.

The make out session went on for a while longer as she pulled your pants and boxers down to mid-thigh so she could stroke your cock comfortably; as it was already throbbing too much between her fingers, you decided to grab her by the waist, turn her around and bend her against the right wall of the elevator. Just as the doors opened.

Thank god it was early in the morning and there wasn't a soul awake in your building, because that would have been the most embarrassing experience of your life.

"Oopsies," you said, and pressed the button for the top floor, the 40th.

With the doors closed again you could focus on your favorite cum slut again. Rina had her pretty cake ready for you and her hands resting on the mirror. Normally you would have yanked her panties off, but these were just too pretty, black lace with subtle embroidery and fine stitching, so you just pulled them away to her left butt cheek.

"How long has it been since you had something inside that warm pussy?" you asked, and you spit on your cock to lubricate it and rub the tip between her silky folds.

Rina turned to look at you with wide pupils and a parted mouth.

"Since the last time you fucked me daddy," she replied. "I've been a good girl."

"Not even your fingers?"

"Nothing. Only you and your cock deserve that privilege."

You smiled, and slowly took your cock inside her to admire how that gorgeous face twisted in pleasure as her folds engulfed your shaft inch by inch. When you reached the bottom both you and she moaned at the same time, and you put your hands on her hips to give her slow pumps until the friction was reduced to almost a minimum.

"Mmmm fuck," Rina moaned, biting the entire width of her bottom lip. "I missed your cock so much."

"Oh yeah?" you asked with a gasp, slipping your hand under her bunched up dress to rest on her soft lower back. "But it's only been a week, baby."

"I don't fucking care," she replied, watching as you fucked her harder and harder and made her ass cheeks jiggle. "Every second that passes without you inside me is torture."

"Such a slut huh?" you asked through clenched teeth, now with both hands on her waist under her dress.

"Mhum," she nodded with a cute moan. "Just for you daddy."

You kept up that strong but steady pace for a while, not wanting to sweat and feel uncomfortable under the sweater you were wearing. She didn't care that you weren't the absolute animal you always were with her, it was enough with the little effort you were putting in and your good use of your skills to make her cum.

But just as you reached the 40th floor and the doors opened.

"Mmmgh fuck! This thing is going to give me a heart attack!" Rina moaned between spasms and moans, cumming around your cock as you pressed the button for the second floor; you weren't going to risk getting to the ground floor and having the security guard of your building see you by chance.

"Do I have to remind you who had the idea to have sex in an elevator?" you asked as the doors closed again.

"Shut up!" she squealed back in Korean, still going through the vestiges of orgasm.

"Make me."

Feeling challenged, Rina pushed herself off the wall and grabbed the back of your neck with her right arm to crash her lips against yours. You held her against you, your left arm around her abdomen and one hand on her neck. You started fucking her faster, but not too much, just enough to hasten your own climax.

"You can't cum inside me, can you?" She asked between gasps against your lips, fingers gripping the back of your neck and looking into your eyes.

"Not if you want to be sticky down there the whole ride," you replied, lowering your arm from around her abdomen to place your hand on her pussy and rub it. "The only option is for you to swallow it."

Rina took a moment to organize her words, as between the cock in and out of her pussy and the fingers rubbing in circles she had been paralyzed with pleasure for a few seconds, her mouth half open and nothing but muffled sounds coming out of her throat.

"G-god I don't know!" she managed to say against your lips. "Just cum, I don't care where."

Perfect. That was just the trigger you needed.

You grabbed one of Rina's thighs and lifted it up to your chest, forcing her to hold herself sideways against the elevator wall. It was the moment you decided to get intense and give her pussy hard thrusts, shaking her whole body and making her tits bounce under her dress. She reached a second orgasm while you were fucking her, but she controlled herself so you could keep going. You felt yourself coming just moments later.

"On your knees baby," you said between gasps as you pulled out of her pussy.

Rina complied and got on her knees, then grabbed your cock, stuck her tongue out and masturbated you furiously with your tip pressed against her tongue. It only took a few strokes for you to explode in Rina's mouth, who let you watch as your entire load pooled on her tongue. She then took you inside her mouth and began sucking off what was left in your tank, and didn't stop until you were empty.

But what you hadn't realized was that the elevator doors were wide open. Still breathing heavily, you turned your head to look down the second floor hallway and make sure no one was watching.

"Remind me not to listen to you again," you gasped, pressing the button that would take you to the ground floor. "I'm going to get tachycardia from this."

Rina pulled you out of her mouth after swallowing your load and stood up on slightly shaky legs, adjusting her panties and pulling her dress back down.

"But it was fun wasn't it?" she asked with a giggle, as you pulled up your pants and boxers. Just then you reached the ground floor.

"Oh yeah, a fucking roller coaster ride," you replied, and grabbed her hand to finally pull her out of the elevator. She intertwined her fingers with yours.

"And you like roller coaster rides?" Rina asked, leaning forward to look at you.

"Nope."

"Mmm, and what about me?" she pointed at herself. "Do you like me?"

"More than I'd like to."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" she asked as you walked out of the building to your car.

"I guess you'll find out later," you said, and then quickly changed the subject. "Hey, we can pick up two people on the way, so I recommend you let them know so they can get ready."

"Just two?"

You pressed the button on your remote to unlock the car doors and opened your door to slide in. Rina did the same with hers.

"I don't know if you notice that my back seats are single-seaters, woman," you said, pressing the touch button on the steering wheel just once to start the car's battery. "Call. No time to waste."

"You're not inviting anyone over?" Rina asked, pulling her phone out of her handbag.

"Fuck, I forgot," you reached out to the car's dashboard to touch the touch screen of the rotary dial and turn on the car's air calefaction in order to counteract the cold outside. "In that case it would have to be just one person. And you too."

"Oh don't worry, I know who I want us to pick up."

But you didn't.

First you'd rule out the people who would definitely be with someone else. Like for example, the guys from ATEEZ and your two friends from The Boyz. You texted Mingi and then Kim Sunwoo.

After texting them both came the real dilemma. Who the fuck were you going to pick up? It had to be one damn person, which left you with quite a few options, but you had a couple already in mind. First you had to take a shot with the Taiwanese princess, who responded pretty quickly.

She responded to that last message, but you decided to ignore her on purpose. Perfect, one of the few options ruled out. Next was Sohyun, but she didn't respond, probably because she was asleep. You tried Nana, but she was asleep too. No one from NMIXX or STAYC was in the cards; both groups weren't even in Korea at the time, neither was Somi. NewJeans of course, also ruled out. That left you with the Fromis girls, and you were sure none of them would be awake by now.

Except one. But in order to catch her attention, you had to call her.

“Hi?” Jiheon answered from the other end of the line. She never failed to be just as much of a night owl as you.

“Hey, do you want me to pick you up?” you asked. “We’ll be drinking at home.”

“Ah, you know I do,” she said. “Are you with someone?”

“With Rina, I don’t know if you two have met yet. Also Wonyoung and Aeri, and more people are coming.”

“Oh! Yujinie is going?” she asked, since the two of them were close.

“I have no idea. As far as I know she went to her house tired, but you know how that girl is.”

“Aw… well, I’ll get ready. Call me when you get here.”

You then hung up and turned to look at Rina, who had also been talking on the phone at the same time as you.

"Can we go now?" you asked.

"Yep," she nodded. "Who were you talking to?"

"Jiheonie," you finally replied, starting the engine. "And you?"

"Eunbie-unnie."

"Kwon...?" you stepped on the gas and pulled out of your parking spot heading towards the dorm's exit.

"Hwang. You know, GFriend... Viv..."

"Yeah yeah, the girl whose ass you couldn't stop staring at in that challenge."

"I wasn't!-"

"Yes you were."

That left her silent, with a frown and a cute pout.

First you went to buy the alcohol, a fucking difficult task since it was a Sunday at 3 in the morning and very few liquor stores were open, but after driving around downtown Seoul for a few times you ended up finding one. You had no idea if people would bring their own alcohol, so you opted to buy everything at once, an expense that you split in half with Rina.

With that done, you headed to the address Rina had given you to pick up SinB. The short-haired woman was already waiting on the street under a streetlight, bundled up in a cream-colored jacket and white cargo pants; she was also wearing a cap and a face mask. You parked next to her, and she got in the right back seat.

"Whose idea was it?" she asked. "I was pretty comfortable in my bed."

"Whose idea do you think it was?" you asked, pulling away again, now heading to pick up Jiheon.

"The only one that makes it look like it's not 7 degrees?"

"Exactly."

"In my defense, I love this dress and wanted to show it off," Rina said.

SinB chuckled.

"Well you're going to die of hypothermia from showing off your legs and shoulders," she said.

"Then it will have been worth it."

"Slut..." you muttered in English under your breath.

"What was that?" Rina looked at you.

"Huh?" you played dumb, and she stared at you for a few seconds. "I don't know what you're looking at, I didn't say anything."

"Liar..." she muttered, but you heard her.

You arrived at the next stop only about five minutes later. You called her, and she got down a couple minutes later.

Apparently, Rina wasn't the only one who wanted to show off that night, because even though Jiheon was wearing a black and white striped sweater with a furry jacket, she was also wearing a short black skirt that showed off her delicious long legs adorned with fishnet stockings.

"Hi!" she greeted everyone as she climbed into the last available seat. She hadn't recognized SinB, and doing so nearly gave her a heart attack. "Omo omo omo. Ah! Hi! I'm a huge fan. Ah ottoke!"

"Have you really never met?" Rina asked as SinB and Jiheon greeted each other.

"No," SinB replied. "We've met at shows but always from a distance."

Jiheon nodded.

"Ah, interesting," Rina said.

"Hey, you guys like speed?" you asked, realizing that the streets were completely empty at that hour, and surely the highway you were supposed to take was too.

"No, don't even dream about it," Jiheon said immediately, already knowing your intentions.

"My pretty honey nougat, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's 3am and I want to get home."

"Ezio, there's snow on the streets," Rina told you. "They're wet. Do you want to die?"

"I don't think a $700,000 SUV is going to kill us. Chill."

"Just step on the gas," SinB said. "Come on, come on."

Jiheon put a hand on your shoulder and whined repeatedly for you not to do it, but ignoring her, you put the car into wet mode and floored the gas. She and Rina squealed in fear, but you and SinB were having a blast with the sound of the engine and the speed you were going. The really funny moment was when you entered the highway, where you had a long straightaway where you reached 150km/h in just a couple seconds. Rina was clinging to you so tightly that she was almost going to tear your arm off, and Jiheon was going to deafen you with her screams. On the other hand, you and SinB could do nothing but laugh.

When you exited the highway and were forced to slow down considerably, Rina and Jiheon shook you around with little bumps, pushes, and scoldings. They could be as upset as they wanted, but you were sure that you had cut at least half of the 10-minute trip.

"Open the damn doors before I kill you," Jiheon said behind you as you parked the car in your spot and turned off the engine.

"Oh, they were already open," you said after checking.

"Did we do that damn race without the locks on?!" Rina shrieked to your right, then opened her door. “Oh my god!”

You shrugged.

“I didn’t know,” you said, and Jiheon pulled your ear. “Ouch!”

SinB opened her door and got out, followed by the other two.

“Hey! It was fun!” SinB came to your defense, still giggling.

You got out, closed your door, and headed straight to the trunk.

“Unnie! Don’t defend him!” Jiheon shrieked to your left, arms crossed as you put down the bags of bottles. You handed her one to carry, and she didn’t object despite being angry. “He did it completely on purpose just to give us a hard time!”

“Yeah! Look at him smiling!” Rina protested to your right. You handed her a bag as well.

“Wah, are they always this whiny?” SinB asked behind you as you closed the trunk and handed her a bag. You grabbed the only one left.

"One is worse than the other. I won't say who. Come on."

"I'm not whiny!" Rina and Jiheon protested at the same time, causing you and SinB to burst out laughing.

You entered your building and headed straight for the elevator. At that moment your gaze happened to go to the floor, and you noticed that near the right wall of the elevator there was a stain that looked like...

You immediately stood on top of it so that no one else could see it. You locked eyes with Rina, and from the way she looked back at you, she had noticed it too, and had to make an inhuman effort to hold back her laughter.

As you walked up to your apartment the aroma of freshly made food greeted you. Wony and Aeri were both in the kitchen, going back and forth chopping, frying, and roasting ingredients. They already had appetizers made, including a bowl full of Caprese, which was basically tomato, fresh mozzarella, and basil. The idea had been Wony's, who told you that they had looked up Italian recipes online for the things they were going to cook. You were grateful for the detail, but something told you that Aeri had something to do with it, probably as compensation for invading your house without full notice at 2 in the morning.

The guests started arriving not long after. First came the boys from ATEEZ, and then Sunwoo and Juyeon. To your surprise Yujin came too, and Aeri's guests were a guy you didn't know and Yunjin from Lesserafim, a girl with whom you had only shared a few words every time you had met her.

You were glad that the 'party' had turned out as Rina and Aeri had promised: healthy fun without fuss, which wasn't too difficult considering the number of people there.

At first, everyone was with their own little group. You and Wony were of course together all the time, and you were joined from time to time by Aeri and Rina along with SinB, Yunjin and the other guy who you later found out was called Haon and was a rapper. Jiheon and Yujin, being as close as they were, were also like two peas in a pod, primarily talking to the guys from Ateez and The Boyz.

But as divided as you all were, from a certain point in the early morning the group started to become more and more homogeneous, until finally you all started talking, laughing, and drinking together. You had a great time, and luckily for you, you knew Wony had too, despite having seemed unhappy a few hours ago.

Your calculations regarding the amount of alcohol you bought turned out to be incorrect, as many of them had a fairly low resistance to alcohol and had gotten drunk faster than you expected (Jiheon was the first to fall, to no one's surprise). This led to you being left with about 3 bottles of vodka and two bottles of whiskey unopened on the table. You weren't much of a drinker on your own, so you ended up telling the guys to take everything home.

By 8am everyone was gone, leaving only you, Wony, Rina and Aeri, lying on the couch staring at the ceiling. You were all drunk—maybe Rina and Aeri a little more so—not to the point of vomiting in every corner of the house and stumbling around everywhere, but you still knew that the four of you were dizzy.

"Great, I just needed to mess up my bloody sleep schedule again," you said, lying with your hands on your chest on the right wing of the couch, which also functioned as a bed. You had your head resting on one of Wony's thighs, and she was leaning against the wall with her legs spread out between the backrest and Rina's body.

"And we have a trip tomorrow," Rina said, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I don't think this was the most responsible thing to do."

"Oh, you think so?" you asked sarcastically.

"Hey, can you please understand me? I won't have any days off for like two weeks!"

"You know, I just find it funny that you're the two oldest in your group and at the same time the most reckless," Wony said with a giggle, caressing your hair.

"Oh mind your own business, little princess," Aeri said from the other side of the couch. She was lying face down, her dress rolled up to her thighs to highlight her ass.

"But don't be mad at me!" Wony said, still between tipsy giggles. "It's not like I'm lying."

"You're the prettiest and most elegant in your group and who knows how many times you've choked on your boyfriend's cock. That’s worst"

Yikes. Now that was a counterattack.

Flabbergasted, you kept your gaze on the ceiling. You could only hear a discreet laugh from Rina.

"I do it all the time and I love it, so what? You try to put me on the ropes bitch?" Wony asked.

Aeri let out a giggle.

"I certainly wouldn't mind tying you up with ropes," she said. "That would be hot."

"Weren't you mad at me a second ago?!"

"I'm still here, just so you know," you said.

"Oh yeah, right," Aeri looked at you. "Tell me something, Ezio, do you like Japanese cake?"

"Ah... the cheesecake that's fluffy and tasty?" you asked, genuinely clueless about the true intent of the question.

"Wah, I love Japanese cheesecake," Rina added. "It's like eating a marshmallow."

"Hey! I was just talking to you!" Wony protested, and threw a pillow at Aeri that went over her and fell into the dining room.

"Nuh uh, I'll ask you again, and look at me," Aeri said, and you turned your head to look at her. "You like Japanese cake?"

As she asked that, she grabbed the dress and pulled it up over her waist, revealing her tasty bubble butt adorned by a burgundy thong.

"Ahhh! Don't look!" Wony squealed, and covered your eyes with both hands, but you had already seen what you needed to see.

You heard Aeri giggle.

"I'm just kidding, princess," she said. "No need to get worked up. Or are you afraid he'll get a boner from my ass?"

Wony wasn't blocking your view properly, so you could still see that wonderful ass perfectly. In that state it was impossible for you to control what you thought, and the inevitable happened.

"Ah, he already has it, look," you heard Rina say, and when Wony removed her hands from in front of your face, you saw Rina pointing at the hard bulge in your pants, which Aeri was staring at.

"That's only because it was a dirty move!" Wony protested. "You're such a slut!"

"Better not say it too much, because I'm starting to believe it and get horny," Aeri said with a giggle.

"He's my boyfriend!" Wony crossed her thighs around your head, in a fit of pure possessive instinct that felt like heaven. "Mine!"

"Well, girl," Aeri stood up, and with her dress still bunched up around her waist, went to sit on the edge of the end of the couch, right between your feet. The dress she was wearing left very little to the imagination, with that bare straight back that could drive the sanest man crazy, and her ass looked amazing in that thong and position, she just had to... take off the dress, which she did. "I know he's yours," Aeri looked over her shoulder at your bulge and bit her bottom lip. "But that cock is staring me right in the eyes."

Wony had to have been stunned by Aeri's sudden, bold move as well, as she didn't say a single word or move a single muscle.

"Don't talk about his cock or I'll get horny too," you heard Rina say to your left. "Every time I think about it I want it inside me."

"My god! You two are a couple of whores!" Wony squealed, releasing your head from between her thighs. "A couple of whores with... nice asses and nice tits."

"Both," you added.

"You shut up!" Wony slapped your forehead, startling you.

"Oh, you like us, don't you?" Aeri asked, and then she turned around and climbed onto her knees at the edge of the couch so you and Wony could admire her pair of round, nice, firm, perfectly sized tits.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Rina couldn't help but follow Aeri's lead and was taking off her dress, under which, just like Aeri, she was only wearing panties and no bra.

"I didn't say that!" Wony said, and as you looked up at her you noticed that her eyes couldn't stop staring at Rina and Aeri's bodies. "I just said that..."

She trailed off, and as you looked back up at the front you realized why. Aeri had crawled up on top of you, her hands on either side of your head and her knees on either side of your hips. That pair of breasts were right above your face, tempting inches away that you didn't dare to shorten just yet.

"What did you say, Vicky?" Aeri asked with a giggle, looking at Wony from very close, ignoring you despite having you underneath her. "Because I remember you said I was a slut."

Rina, half naked like Aeri, straddled Wony's calf with two hands above her knee, just watching her like a cat did with its prey.

"Y-yeah, because that's what you are..." Wony glanced at Rina out of the corner of her eye. "Both of you."

"I told you not to call me that or I would take it seriously," Aeri replied, and put a hand on your chest to bring her face so close to Wony's that you thought she was going to kiss her. "Come on, say it again."

"Slut!" Wony repeated instantly, without a hint of hesitation. But the tone she used sounded like a challenge to you.

"Fuck, I am," Aeri moaned, then giggled as she moved her hand down from your chest to your bulge to squeeze it without Wony noticing. "Again."

"Me, me, tell me," Rina said, now settling herself closer to Wony's knee.

Aeri was massaging your cock over your pants, making it throb with each deep squeeze. You didn't want to stay still, so you discreetly moved your hand up to her crotch to rub her pussy over her panties.

"You are the biggest slut!" Wony said now looking at Rina. "You fuck my boyfriend all the time!"

"Oh yeah and I fucking love it when he fills my pussy," Rina moaned, now adjusting herself on Wony's thigh. From the slight movements it seemed like she was rubbing herself against her. "You don't?"

You heard another moan, but this one was from Wony. Looking up you noticed that Rina had pulled her dress down, and now had her pair of cute little tits free.

"Y-yes I do..." Wony replied with a gasp. "Can we suck his cock already or...?"

"Nuh-uh, you're going to kiss me first," Aeri said, and then kissed Wony right above you.

Rina took the opportunity to wrap her arms around Wony's waist and dive into her neck with kisses, as she and Aeri kissed like they had been lusting after each other all night. And you, seeing that things had already gotten out of hand without you even having to intervene, finally leaned up on your elbows to take one of Aeri's tits into your mouth.

You had no angle of vision to know what was happening behind you, you could only hear muffled moans, fabric being manipulated and kiss after kiss. Aeri was trying to unbutton your pants with one hand, but noticing her inability you had to help her. Then when you took off your shoes, pants and boxers, she grabbed your cock with a reverse grip and rubbed it slowly.

Aeri's tits remained your focus for another long seconds; you moved between each mound, sucking and licking her cute nipples with your hands on her waist. A moment later Aeri moved away from Wony and lowered her body to straddle your abdomen. You were then able to turn to see what was happening behind you.

Wony was no longer wearing her dress, and like Aeri and Rina, she was only in her panties as she kissed and groped Rina, who was sitting on her lap with her hands around her neck. You didn't know how to feel about it, but your current state of mind only made the scene turn you on twice as much.

"Hey, I exist too," you called out to both of them, as Aeri climbed off your abdomen and went to settle on her knees between your outstretched legs. Now she was able to get a good grip on your cock and stroke it slightly faster.

"Hmm, sorry daddy," Rina said, breaking away from Wony's lips. "Her lips are too fluffy and delicious."

She made to lean in to kiss you, but Wony quickly put her hand between both of them.

"No!" she stopped Rina. "I'm not letting you kiss him, whore! That privilege is mine!"

"But I just kissed you!" Rina protested. "What's the difference?!"

"I just said no!"

"Shut the fuck up both of you and come suck my cock," you said.

"Yes daddy!" they both said at the same time, completely forgetting about their argument.

There wasn't room for the four of you on the couch together, at least not for what you wanted to do, so you told them to go to the bedroom. There were your two cats in there, which you dragged out to make room on the bed. You got in first, piling the pillows up in the middle so you could lay down with your head propped up. It was then that they joined you, Rina on your left, Wony on your right, and Aeri on her hands and knees between your legs.

Rina and Wony had their backs to you, lying on their sides with their faces on either side of your cock and their elbows resting on top of your abdomen. The first to take you into her mouth was Aeri, with slow sucks halfway down your shaft while Wony and Rina kissed the sides of your base, licking the sides every time Aeri moved up. With Wony it wasn't necessary since she still had her hair in the bun, but with Rina you brushed her hair back just to delight in that double view. Cute backs drove you crazy, and if that wasn't enough, their asses were just as cute.

"Fuck, it almost fit in my mouth," Aeri gasped, stroking your tip with her fingers in a ring, while you caressed Wony and Rina's lower backs. "Just the way I love it."

"The first time I was unable to take it all," Rina said, kissing and licking along with Wony every corner of your cock.

"Ha! I've always been able to take it down my throat without any effort," Wony said.

"Oh yeah? Then do it," Aeri goaded, and slapped Wony's face a couple of times with your cock. "Be a good girl."

Wony didn't hesitate and grabbed your cock and took it straight into her mouth. Unlike when she gave you head in the car, she was now true to her skills and gave you a sloppy blowjob, with plenty of saliva built up from the start. Rina and Aeri meanwhile sucked your balls, and you groped Wony and Rina's asses.

After a few seconds she put her hands on your thighs and lowered her mouth to the base of your cock in one smooth motion, taking every inch without a hint of gag reflex to let your tip rest against her throat for a while.

"Damn, you got a fucking talent for it huh?" Aeri said, as Wony slowly twisted her head from side to side with your cock stuck in her throat, something she did just to show off.

Wony pulled you out of her throat a couple seconds later, her breathing completely steady but her mouth full of saliva and connected to your cock by slimy threads. She stroked you quickly.

"Come on, I fucking challenge you two bitches," she said, looking at Aeri and Rina. "I bet you can't even hold it in for five seconds."

"Bet," Rina and Aeri said.

Again, they were pretending you didn't exist and were just an NPC with a usable cock. You didn't mind tho, and it wasn't like you would care when you were drunk.

Rina was the first to make her attempt. You knew she wasn't bad at it; she gave excellent blowjobs, but deepthroats were perhaps her only weak point in general. She grabbed you by the base, caught your cock between her lips and slowly lowered them down until you were in her throat. One... two...—first gag—, three—she coughed against your cock and pulled back with labored breathing.

"Ha! One out," Wony said with a smug little smile on her face. "Come on Uchinaga, you fucking gorgeous packed up whore."

"Fuck, I'm going to lose this shit..." she muttered, already accepting her fate.

Aeri took her shot, first flipping all her pink hair to the side and then grabbing your cock and plunging her mouth in. The outlook didn't look too hopeful for her, since halfway through she seemed to have a hard time taking you, but to your surprise she did reach the bottom. One... two... three...—first gags, Wony worried—, four... and just as the five seconds were about to pass, a huge gag reflex made her take you out of her mouth.

"I won!" Wony said, the cocky grin back on her face. "Ha! You can't beat me on that, sluts."

"Without preparation it's cheating, bitch," Aeri said, wiping the saliva off her chin with the back of her hand and side looking at her.

"I don't care, it's time for me to choose my prize!"

"Do you win a contest that you organised yourself and also choose your own prize?" Rina asked.

"You're right!" Wony replied, and got on her knees to cup Rina's face in her hands, give her a little kiss and then look at you. "My prize will be daddy eating my pussy and fucking me first!"

"But!-" Rina tried to protest, but Wony held up a finger.

"Nuh-uh, you didn't win the contest, refrain from protesting Miss Yoo."

Quite a comedian when she was drunk, and above all, a whore.

Wony then straddled you right on your chest, slowly slipped her hand into your hair to tangle her fingers there, and then raised her hips to pull you towards her pussy. You immediately ate her out like she was a three-star Michelin dish, making her moan and grind her hips against your face.

Aeri and Rina, without much other option, both focused on your cock, in a combined action in which they both sucked you off in the most messy and frantic way they could. You moaned against Wony's pussy, and she loved it. She let you know that by the little tugs she gave to your hair every few seconds.

You moved your hands up to hold Wony's small waist, and from there you moved up her back until you reached her tits, whose nipples you pinched in between light squeezes. Then you moved one of your hands up to her mouth, and brought two fingers inside for her to suck on while you attacked her clit with the tip of your tongue.

Aeri and Rina were going crazy on your cock. You couldn't see what they were doing, but their tongues felt amazing. It led you to moan more and more, and to breathe heavily against Wony's pussy, which led her to cum in your mouth.

"Mmmgh fuck!" she moaned between cute little spasms on top of you. "Can I ride you daddy?"

"Oh, now you ask?" you asked. "I thought you had forgotten that I have an opinion."

"I know you're always gonna say yes to everything, but consent is important daddy," she said, and took your hand to give the back of it a peck.

With this done, Wony got off your chest and turned to look at the girls.

"Get off his cock bitches, time for his girlfriend to ride him."

Rina and Aeri were diligent and moved away from your cock to give Wony room, who mounted you with her knees on either side of your waist and raised her hips to grab your shaft, aligning it with her pussy and slowly impaling herself on it with a long moan of satisfaction that made her face look like a work of art.

Wony left her hands on your chest, looked into your eyes and began to move her hips up and down, taking your cock in and out of her suffocating pussy. Rina positioned herself on the right, on her knees and facing Wony, to grab her chin and kiss her. Aeri approached you from the left, and got on her hands and knees to kiss you without Wony noticing.

"Would you mind lending me your face as a seat, love?" she asked after that brief taste of your lips.

"Whenever you want," you replied between gasps, as Wony was now bouncing faster on your cock.

Aeri stood up and positioned herself above your face, with her knees snug against the sides of your chest and her calves on top of your arms. She then lowered her hips, and pressed her pussy against your mouth for you to eat. You immediately grabbed her ass, delighted with how soft and round her buttocks were between your fingers. She moaned, but just seconds later those moans were muffled against Wony's lips.

You reached out with your right arm and without looking you reached for Rina's cute ass, which you groped while you ate Aeri's pussy and ass equally. Now you could hear Wony's moans loud and clear, and looking up you realized it was because Aeri and Rina were kissing and licking her tits while she bounced on your cock with her hands on your abdomen.

"Mmmgh fuck fuck fuck!" she moaned, fingers digging into your belly. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Fuck!!"

Wony sank down with a sudden thud to your pelvis and ground herself against you, spasms making her pussy walls throb around you. You continued to fully engage Aeri's pussy and ass, licking between her wet pink folds and butthole until she raised her hips.

"Alright get off bitch, my fucking turn," Aeri said to Wony. "You give Rina a good time."

"Yeah, come eat my pussy baby," Rina moaned, and grabbed Wony by the back of the neck to pull her off your cock, make her lay down together and make out beside you.

That left you 'alone' with Aeri, who only had to crawl down your body until her ass was positioned above your cock, which you grabbed and pressed against her pussy so that she only had to move her hips down and make your shaft slowly disappear between those glorious ass cheeks.

"Oh fuck," Aeri growled, her ass resting against your pelvis. She looked at you over her shoulder. "You like the view, baby?" She asked with a giggle.

"I very much fucking love it," you said, giving her right ass cheek a firm squeeze and then a spank to get her bobbing up and down.

Beside you, Wony and Rina were in the middle of a hot make out session, with the taller girl on top of the most bottom girl you knew. Rina was spread legged, and Wony had two fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. Again, you didn't know how to feel about it, you just knew it was hot as fuck.

Aeri was moving like a fucking demon on your cock, giving you quite the show of how to properly ride a cock in that position. It was hypnotic to watch her ass go back and forth, and her long pink hair run down her pale back. She kept going for about a minute more of you spanking her ass several times, until she planted her feet on the mattress and started squatting up and down on you, slamming hard against your pelvis.

To your right, Wony went from fingering Rina to being between her legs eating her pussy. Rina had one hand on the back of Wony's head, and the other was playing with one of her own tits, squeezing it and pinching her nipple between moans. Wony was apparently amazing at eating pussy too, as Rina's moans were almost as loud as Aeri's.

On the other hand, Aeri's ass, as massive and firm as it was, was almost taking your breath away with every crash against your body, but she didn't notice either because she was too horny or because the alcohol in her system didn't let her notice. The solution was pretty simple: grab her by the waist and push her off your cock, have her lie face down on the left side of the bed and get back inside her in that prone bone position.

"Mmm yeah daddy be fucking hard on me," she moaned, one side of her face buried against one of your pillows. You brushed her hair back and placed it in front of her right shoulder, so you could put your hand on the back of her neck and fuck her as hard as she wanted.

Fucking Aeri Uchinaga in that specific position felt like a luxury. Her ass looked amazing, jiggling with every thrust and quick spank you gave her. At one point you leaned forward and placed your fists on either side of her shoulders, pushing your cock hard up and down, then you stood up straight again, grabbing onto her waist to make her lift her ass slightly and pulling it towards you every time you pushed forward. What this created was absolute madness for Aeri, who moaned, screamed and groaned into the pillow until with a thud to the mattress, she came hugging the pillow.

You slowly fucked her through her orgasm, caressing her back and shoulders. To your left Rina was going down the same road. Wony was still eating her pussy, but now she was also fingering her at the same time. Rina's face reddened, twisted, and finally froze as he came in Wony's mouth as well.

"Daddy," Wony called to you, pumping two fingers in and out of Rina as she writhed in pleasure. "Come and fuck her, I want to see her being overstimulated."

Without hesitation you pulled out of Aeri's pussy and went to take Wony's place between Rina's legs. She looked into your eyes and then at your cock, well knowing what you were going to do. You didn't make her wait: you quickly grabbed your cock, and still soaked in Aeri's fluids, you took it inside Rina.

"Mmmgh wait wait wait!" Rina squealed with a hand on your abdomen, twisting her hips as your cock slid easily into her still sensitive pussy.

"Shut up and take daddy's cock," Wony ordered, lying down on your right with her face next to Rina's.

Rina brought her hand to her mouth to muffle her whimpers the moment you started pumping back and forth. At least you had the mercy to not go hard at first just to not make it too unbearable for her, but that was only a brief five seconds after which you went faster and faster.

“At least kiss me daddy… c-can you?” Rina asked looking into your eyes, her tits bouncing from your thrusts.

“No!” Wony immediately replied in your place.

“Pleaseee!!” Rina whimpered again, squeezing her tits as her eyes became teary. It was quite a deal for her not to be able to kiss you during sex – she was just too used to you spoiling her.

“I said no!” Wony repeated, and cupped the side of Rina’s face so she could see her. “Kiss me instead you little slut.”

Rina did so, muffling cute moans against Wony's lips while you had your hands on her thighs to keep her legs spread wide. Aeri had already recovered from her recent orgasm, and moved to get between Wony's legs and eat her pussy while she maked out with Rina.

Wony pulled away from Rina's lips and looked at Aeri with her mouth half open between gasps.

"It's about time you ate me out, Uchinaga," Wony moaned, entwining her fingers between strands of pink hair.

"Were you craving for it?" Aeri asked, licking between her folds and then her clit.

"Since I saw you making those faces while riding my boyfriend's cock," Wony replied.

You meanwhile continued to fuck Rina as hard as you could, squeezing her tits, her neck and making her suck on your fingers. She came within seconds, but you ignored her body's signals and kept going until you brought her legs together, pressed them against her body and held them with yours to now fuck her in a matting press.

"Are you gonna fill my pussy daddy?" Rina asked between moans, looking into your eyes as you hammered her pussy up and down. "Please do it... I need it! I need it so bad daddy!"

"Are you gonna cum again for me if I do baby?" you asked between gasps.

"Yes! I'll do whatever you ask daddy, anything!" she replied.

Your climax was just around the corner, it only took a few downward thrusts when you felt the tingle run down your cock.

"Then fucking cum, slut," you growled, and then exploded inside her.

Rina moaned in ecstasy as she felt your cock throbbing and shooting out jet after jet of cum inside her, and instantly she came too, her body shaking and her moans sweetening your ears. You continued to pump slowly, making sure to leave every drop inside her without any waste. She loved every second of it; it was what drove her craziest by far. She had to earn her nickname from somewhere.

To your right Aeri had stopped eating Wony out and was now on top of her, kissing her and rubbing her pussy in circles. You pulled out of Rina's pussy and looked at them.

"Hey, clean up, what are you waiting for?" you said, pointing at Rina's cum dripping pussy.

Aeri looked up, looked between Rina's legs and went there, pushing you out of the way. Wony followed her, and the two of them took turns cleaning your cum from Rina's pussy. You laid down on the pillows, leaning against the headboard between heavy breaths to rest.

Aeri and Wony looked up at you, and with cum pooling in their mouths, they shared a sloppy kiss that spilled your load over their jaws and onto the sheets below. They didn't stop until they shared every drop of thick liquid and were both clean and herself.

"Now that I think about it... there's one thing I do beat you at," Aeri said to Wony with a giggle, both of them sitting on their knees in front of Rina's spread legs.

Wony frowned and looked at her as if she was insane.

"Huh, at what?" Wony asked.

Aeri then looked at you, and crawled past Rina until she was between your legs, lowering her face and licking your cock from balls to tip. She then moved up to align her face with yours.

"Wanna fuck my ass daddy?" she asked, caressing the back of your cock until it was hard again.

"What?" Wony quickly crawled over to you, tripping over Rina on her way to your side. "N-No! You can do me too!"

Aeri giggled as she saw that Wony had fallen for her trap.

"Really, Vicky?" Aeri turned to look at her. "You don't look like you've ever tried to get fucked in the ass, have you?"

"W-well..." Wony avoided her gaze.

"No, right?"

Wony snorted.

"No! But I can try and I know my boyfriend is going to love it!"

Aeri then looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

"You hear that baby?" she asked. "The little princess wants your cock in her ass."

"Get the lube then," you said, nodding towards the nightstand to the right of the bed.

Aeri moved to get it, but Wony just stared at you with a scowl.

"Huh? What do you have that for?! Who are you fucking in the ass other than me?"

You didn't know how to tell her all the girls who had passed by that bed and been fucked in the ass.

"Yujinie loves it," you replied.

"Ugh!" she slammed her fist into her thigh. "That bitch!"

Aeri came back to you, with a bottle of lube that was almost gone but you knew would be enough for the night.

"Get on all fours, pretty girl," Aeri told Wony, and she complied.

"What are you going to do?" Wony asked, getting on her hands and knees on the right side of the bed, her ass facing you.

"I'm gonna get you ready."

Aeri sat on her knees beside her, opened the bottle of lube, and looked at you.

"You don't mind getting the sheets dirty?" she asked.

"I don't fucking care at this point," you shrugged and shook your head.

"Great."

Aeri then focused on her self-assigned task. She poured lube on each of Wony's ass cheeks, spreading it around until each one was a shiny pearl. She then moved on to her butthole, which she treated with the utmost care even as she stuck two of her fingers in there just to stretch it out a bit.

"Fuck..." Wony gasped, looking over her shoulder. "I-is that it?"

"It's perfect," Aeri said, and gave Wony a smack that made some lube splatter. She then looked at you. "All yours."

You moved on, going to kneel behind Wony. She looked at you with adorable little eyes, wanting you to be as careful with her as possible. Of course you would be. She was your sweet girl after all. Your princess to take care of and pamper. You would never be able to hurt her, not even accidentally.

"I just need you to relax, sweetie, okay?" you asked, one hand running up and down her back. She just nodded. "And let that hair down, I want something to pull on."

Wony complied and brought a hand to her bun to pull it free, freeing her wavy, shiny brown hair to fall down her back and in front of her shoulders. She also spread her knees further out to the sides, leaving her ass at a perfect level for you. Your cock was already hard again, and you brought it to her butthole to press slowly forward, as carefully as you could.

"Hey, don't tense up girl," Aeri said from your left. She had been applying the same treatment to herself as she did to Wony. "It'll be harder for you."

"I'm trying!" Wony protested, gripping the sheets with her fingers as you barely got your tip inside. She took a deep breath, and you saw her relax her hands. "Come on baby, you keep going."

You pushed forward a little more insistently, slowly taking every inch of throbbing flesh inside that tight butthole. There were a few hiccups, as was usual when someone did that for the first time, but a minute later you were fully inside her, suffocated by those tight walls.

"So? How does it feel?" Aeri asked, getting on her hands and knees beside Wony. Her wonderfully lubed up ass was a bit of a distraction, but you had to focus on your girl.

"It feels..." Wony closed her eyes, gasped, and buried her forehead into the mattress with her arms outstretched. "Baby, move."

You placed your hands on her buttocks and pulled back, slowly bringing your cock out and then pushing forward again. Wony let out a sensual moan as you repeated the same thing several times.

"Oh yeah it feels fucking wonderful," she moaned, and turned her face to face Aeri with a frown of pleasure.

"Wait until it gets intense then," Aeri replied with a giggle. "Cumming like that feels quite different."

As the seconds passed Wony became more comfortable, allowing you to go harder and faster. Wony loved every moment of it, and you were immensely happy about it, as her ass felt amazing. Aeri should be proud, for she had created a potential monster, both in you and Wony.

Wony's ass was your little toy for a while. You were fucking her hard, mercilessly, making your pelvis and ass make a sexual cacophony of clashing and wet sounds. Her hair and waist were your grip points at all times, one you pulled back in a fistful, and the other you held tight, not wanting her to slip away.

You would have kept going until she came, but to your left a delicious Japanese cake waited, glistening in the light of your room. Aeri watched as you fucked Wony in full attention, and bit her lower lip waiting for her turn. The moment you turned to look at her she just happened to meet your eyes, and you simply weren't going to say no to that look.

"I'll be back with you in a second, my sweet girl," you told Wony, and carefully pulled your cock out of her.

"Nooo!" Wony whimpered. "Fuck only me!"

"Don't be selfish, bitch," Aeri said as you positioned yourself behind her. "If it weren't for me you wouldn't have found out that you love that."

You repeated the process with Aeri, one hand on one of her buttocks as you brought your cock into her ass. The experience she had was evident, as your shaft slid inside with relative ease without her even wincing in pain. All that was visible on her face was pleasure; pure ecstasy released in a moan when you reached the bottom.

"Fuck," Aeri gasped, biting her bottom lip. "You really want to gatekeep that cock Vicky? How inconsiderate of you."

"Yeah, because it's mine," Wony replied.

"And why is it inside my ass?" Aeri teased with a giggle.

Any desire to tease Wony disappeared the moment you started moving your hips and fucking her hard, making her ass cheeks jiggle with each thrust. Your hands went to her waist, then up her back until you reached the nape of her neck and pushed her face into the mattress. Aeri kept her ass raised, perfect for you to plant your feet on the mattress and drill her butthole up and down.

After another while you went back to Wony, fucking her the same way you did Aeri: hand on the back of her head, face against the mattress and ass raised for your hammering. She came a little less than a minute later, with an aggressiveness that denoted that she was a first timer being fucked in the ass.

"Oh fuck!!" Wony screamed into the sheets, wrinkling them and twisting her hips. "Fuck it does feel quite different! God!"

As Wony's orgasm wore off you now moved to Aeri, but you had a different idea of ​​how to go about it with her. From being on her hands and knees you now rolled her onto her side with her legs drawn up. As you moved back into her ass you moaned, since it felt twice as tight and warm in that position.

"Mmm, are you gonna fill my tight little ass daddy?" Aeri said, looking into your eyes with her head tilted as you picked up the pace. She had her pink hair all messy, with strands sticking to her face from sweat.

"Every fucking corner of it," you replied between gasps, one hand squeezing one of her tits and the other gripping her waist.

"Then fucking do it, mmmgh!" she moaned, holding onto your left forearm and with her hand on top of yours on her breast.

You moved your hand from her breast to her neck, and pressed your fingers there to get really intense with your thrusts. The bed shook as if an earthquake was happening, so strong that one of the pillows on the edge fell to the floor. Aeri tried to scream in pleasure, but the obstruction on her neck by your fingers prevented her from doing so. Her face turned red, and her hands went to hold on to your wrist until she came. You fucked her despite her spasms, but not for too long, because it only took a couple of seconds for you to explode inside that wonderful round ass.

"Oh my god!" you groaned, unloading every thick drop of cum inside the ass of the hottest Japanese girl in the entire industry.

"Oh yeah put it all in!" Aeri squealed as you loosened your grip on her neck. "Fill my ass daddy, fill it like a fucking cum dump!"

Aeri looked too fucking gorgeous with her face twisted in pleasure, mouth parted and hair messy, but if you leaned forward to kiss her you were probably going to sleep on the couch with Helios and Rory. You just grabbed her face and made her look into your eyes, then stuck your fingers in her mouth and had her suck on them as both of your orgasms passed.

Seconds later you pulled very slowly out of Aeri's ass, letting your cum spill out in several rivers that fell straight onto the sheet. But making her star appearance after a while of lethargy, Yoo Jimin came back to life and stuck her head between your knees and Aeri's ass to collect your cum from her butthole without even a fuss.

"And there's my fucking cum slut," you panted, sitting on your own ankles as Rina ate Aeri's ass and ate your cum.

"Mmm yeah," Rina nodded, wiping her chin once finished, and knelt up beside you to lick the entire side of your face. "And your cum slut wants to ride you."

"I just filled your groupmate's ass, honey," you said with your breath still uneasy, turning to look at her. "Can I have a little break?"

"You can have the break by eating my pussy," she replied, making eyes at you. "I don't deserve it?"

"Are you seriously going to manipulate me?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Does it work?"

"Yes," you said, and grabbed her waist to lay her down with her head between two pillows. "You're unbearable."

"You're obsessed with me and it burns you to say it," Rina told you, as you spread her legs and laid face down with your face in front of her pussy.

"It's funny you say that, Miss 'fuck me in the elevator because I'm so needy, daddy'."

"Huh?!" you heard Wony say, but in order not to be hung up by the balls, you decided to ignore her and plant your mouth on Rina's pussy.

Rina moaned and moved her hand directly to your hair to tangle her fingers there. With Rina's thighs on your shoulders you moved your hands up as well, to grab her tits and massage them as you tasted that delicious pussy that you were certainly—and very dangerously—obsessed with. You didn't take long there, just long enough until your cock was ready again.

"Come on and ride me then, slut," you murmured, and gave her pussy a peck before laying down beside her.

She quickly stood up and straddled you, grabbing your still wet cock and bringing it into her spit-soaked pussy to fully impale herself on every inch of your shaft. Without a doubt, that was one of your favorite sights in the world: Rina on top of you, with your cock disappeared behind her perfect belly like magic. And those tits, fuck, those fucking tits. You needed them in your mouth.

You grabbed her waist and pulled her towards you, wrapping your arms around her body and smothering yourself between her tits. Rina moaned and began to move up and down on your cock, with a certain speed and neediness already from the start. You ate each breast between gasps, covering them with kisses, licking them, sucking them and taking as much of them as you could inside your mouth. It drove her crazy, and she translated it into killer hip movements that drove you crazy.

A new weight to your right on the bed made you open your eyes. It was Wony, lying next to you and with her legs open for Aeri, who was eating her pussy with a good part of her hair covering her face. Something impractical, but considering how horny she was, it didn't surprise you.

Wony grabbed your face and made you move away from Rina's tits to kiss her. You didn't refuse, and you tasted her lips in a kiss full of passion and saliva. Something told you that Rina was a little jealous, because she was whimpering more than usual and quickly jumping on your cock to somehow get your attention.

"I want you to kiss me! Ugh!" Rina whined when you didn't turn to look at her. "Please!" she dug her nails into your chest, just to poke you a little.

"I already told you no, whore!" Wony said, pulling away from the kiss to slap one of Rina's tits.

Rina moaned, and went slower but harder and deeper on your cock. Wony repeated the slap, now on her other breast to make it bounce. Several slaps later, Rina's pale tits were red as apples. That left her too stunned to move properly, so you took the reins and planted your feet on the bed to grab her waist and fuck her hard, thrusting down and up.

Unable to find relief from you for her need for kisses, Rina collapsed forward and crashed her lips against Wony's, covering your face with her long red hair as you continued to hammer her pussy. She muffled moans and screams against Wony's lips, who also moaned against hers. Within seconds Rina came, shaking on top of you as if she was being electrocuted. Your only response was to grab her ass and spank both of her ass cheeks at the same time to make her squeal out between her moans.

"Alright bitch, enough," Wony said, pushing Rina off of you. "My boyfriend is going to give me his last load, as it should be."

You knelt up and went between Wony's legs. Aeri had already moved away for you, and laid down on Wony's left. Rina laid down on the opposite side, and as you took your cock inside your girlfriend, Aeri and Rina each took one of Wony's tits into their mouths to kiss and suck on.

As you picked up the pace and gave Wony hard thrusts, the other two demons got wilder and wilder. The main focus remained on Wony's tits, but then Aeri moved to her long neck to kiss it, and Rina settled in to specifically lick and kiss her abdomen. All together, it elicited cute whimpers and angelic moans from Wony, which filled the room and reverberated off the walls.

A minute later Aeri added another coat of paint to the work and brought her hand to Wony's pussy, to make circles on her clit while you fucked her with your hands behind her knees. Rina then kissed her too, and the two engaged in a make out session until Wony came.

But unwilling to give any quarter, you pushed Rina off Wony's right and lay down in her place to put your girlfriend on top of you. She made herself comfortable as best she could, but you didn't wait to take your cock back inside her and fuck her like you did to Rina a few minutes ago. Her face, as gorgeous and sexy as ever, with her hair all disheveled in front, was paralyzed with pleasure at the overstimulation.

Aeri and Rina knelt behind her. Aeri had dropped the now empty bottle of lube on the floor, and the next thing you knew, she was fingering Wony's ass with three fingers while Rina rubbed her tits against one of her oily buttocks. Wony looked at you with tears in her eyes, and with small squeals that wouldn't come out of her throat. It wasn't long before she slapped your chest a few times, and knowing what that sign meant, you pulled out of her so she squirted all over your cock, between grunts and strong spasms.

"OH MY FUCKING GGGGOD!!" Wony screamed, burying her face in your neck and clinging to your shoulders, trying to catch her breath as she continued to drench your cock with jets of squirt.

"Fuck, I had no idea she could do that," Aeri panted, her wrist visibly tired once she pulled her fingers out of Wony.

"She didn't know either," you panted, hugging Wony with both arms. "It was a nice surprise."

"G-give me... your load... on my face," Wony murmured in your ear. "Only me."

You carefully pulled Wony off of you and laid her on her back where you were. Once again, Aeri and Rina laid down on either side of each other, and you straddled Wony's chest to masturbate right over her perfect sweaty face and full, parted lips. A few quick strokes later, you exploded with moans, filling every corner of your girlfriend's face with cum, especially her sexy lips that were still purposely parted. Wony was a good girl and a perfect canvas, her eyes closed and completely still until you finished painting her.

"Daddy... can we help her?" Rina asked, looking at Wony's face biting her lip.

"Go ahead, I'm dead," you nodded with a gasp.

Rina and Aeri got to work. They licked every drop of your cum off Wony's face and slowly accumulated it inside their mouths. Relatively finished, Wony opened her eyes and then her mouth, also sticking her tongue out. Then Aeri and Rina rose above her, and let your cum fall from their mouths into Wony's mouth, who swallowed it all despite the drops falling on her chin.

"Oh… wow..." you said, completely flabbergasted, and fell back onto the mattress.

Somehow, your body had completely ignored the fact that you were drunk while fucking. But your senses had returned to 'normal', and with it, the alcohol in your system that reminded you that you haven’t caught a sleep in almost 22 hours. You fought as hard as you could, but you were so fucking exhausted that you simply got knocked out.

—————————–

Spren Notes: I hope you guys appreciate this, because it's been a while since I put so much love into a fic lol. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[papiliotao]

HOME SWEET HOME — neuvillette x reader

content: 13.3k words, lovers to exes to hopefully lovers again, reader goes to jail, mixed feelings (i hope i wrote them decently), murder, poison, lots of investigation

summary: a singular trial is all it takes to tear your world apart. after being framed for an atrocious crime, you're sent to the fortress of meropide by the decree of your own lover. however, as new evidence emerges years down the line, you're offered freedom at last — the only catch being that you must confront the real culprit (and your complicated feelings for the man who broke your heart).

a/n: merry (late?) christmas @https-sourlimes!! i'm your secret santa. i am SO sorry about the wordcount; i got carried away while writing. i really hope you enjoy! <3

Happiness is a fragile ephemerality.

One word is all it takes to set your world ablaze in a frenzy of roaring flames, once-comforting hues of warmth roaring in a final performance of oceanic havoc. A numb horror manifests in subtle shivers that wrack your body, piercing your very soul with its glacial frostbite. Echoes reverberate within your mind.

Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale, [name] is guilty.

Neuvillette’s words seem to ring in the air, long overstaying their welcome as they persist in a buzz of illusory ostinatos over a backdrop of stunned silence. No one stirs as the tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers unfolds before them. Instead, they watch with bated breath, never once daring to intervene, allowing every act of fate’s cruel masterpiece to play out in flawless tandem.

Nothing feels real until the moment the guards slip a pair of handcuffs around your wrists. Gradually, a sense of panic envelops your senses, prompting you to desperately turn to where Neuvillette had been standing. Fear begins to well up in the pit of your stomach.

You need his help.

But when your eyes land on the spot where your lover had once been, you find that he is all but gone.

Emptiness is all that remains as you’re escorted down to the depths of Meropide.

“Wriothesley,” you greet the man in front of you politely as you step into his office.

It’s only six in the morning, but you were unceremoniously dragged out of your bed earlier when you were informed that Wriothesley had sent for you. A few years ago, you would have complained about how rude it is to rouse someone from slumber without warning. However, after spending thousands of days in prison, you’ve grown to understand that societal norms have no place within the lifeless metallic walls of Meropide.

Everything runs on incentive alone. Coupons are all that matter within the underground prison, and as such, most inmates spare less than a thought towards moral obligations and frivolous sentiments. It’s a home for some of Fontaine’s most infamous criminals, for crying out loud! Only a fool would expect pleasantries to have any place in this bleak world.

Your train of thought is interrupted as Wriothesley gestures towards a chair in front of his desk.

“Take a seat, [name],” he says, his voice gruff yet comforting.

He’s been your only companion throughout your time in prison, as the other inmates have been a little too uncouth for your taste. Although Wriothesley tries to pretend he simply wants to be your friend, you know he has ulterior motives. You know the reason why he’s always checking up on you so often — why he’s been suspiciously interested in your day-to-day life.

Someone you’d rather not think about put him up to this.

Someone you used to love.

(You still remember the crystal raindrops that kissed your skin mere moments before you were taken underground. You wouldn’t put it past him to watch you from afar.)

“Is something up, Wriothesley?” you inquire.

The more he talks the better, you decide. Right now, anything is better than silence because silence is a harbinger of spiraling thoughts and unpleasant recollections. At the moment, you want nothing more than to drown the mantras gnawing at the edge of your conscience in a sea of cascading words.

“Brace yourself,” Wriothesley warns, “This is gonna be a tough one to stomach.”

You nod hesitantly. Wriothesley usually keeps your conversations lighthearted and casual, so you’re absolutely certain that he’s serious this time. His foreboding preface sends a slight shiver down your spine, but you steel your nerves and meet his gaze. Irises beaming with fading moonlight scan your eyes for any traces of hesitation, scrutinizing every sentiment that graces the windows to your soul.

“I’m ready,” you reassure him.

Although Wriothesley raises an eyebrow when he hears the tremble that unsteadily articulates your growing anxiety, he continues on. One thing about Wriothesley you’ve grown to appreciate is the fact that he never pries into your affairs (at least not openly).

“Alright,” he sighs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tension becomes tangible as momentary silence fills the atmosphere; it’s almost deceptively peaceful. Every transient second feels more akin to an eon spent in stagnation as suspense gnaws at your conscience. As much as you hope for the hush to dissipate with every fibre of your being, you also dread the moment your false utopia will shatter.

“Is it really that bad?” you make the mistake of asking Wriothesley.

The grimace that adorns his weary features tells you all you need to know. Before your mind can run through all the possibilities in a frenzied delirium of panicked theories, Wriothesley finally speaks up.

“It’s about him,” he clarifies.

You immediately know who he’s talking about.

It’s funny. A few years ago, you used to speak his name in a hushed tone, filled with admiration and brimming with ardor. Every whisper used to feel adoring, almost reverent, and as such, you had mistakenly believed your love was akin to an all-enduring everblaze, a crimson flame of passion that would burn bright and persevere through all.

The irony is nearly laughable. Dying embers and hollow sentiments are all that remain now. His name has become a taboo, a word that feels all-too-foreign as you attempt to fill in the silence.

“Neuvillette,” you whisper shakily.

An unpleasant ringing seems to manifest in your ears as all the memories you’ve been trying to repress ebb and flow in a wave of aquamarine recollections. You’re aware he’s always been an overwhelming presence, yet it becomes all the more obvious as thoughts of him invade and overload your mind.

Wriothesley confirms your suspicions in the form of a solemn nod. To your surprise, his steely grey eyes soften for what feels like the first time since you’ve met him, a gentle warmth stirring beneath layers of permafrost.

Great, so your situation is so abysmal that even Wriothesley is starting to feel sympathetic.

“What does he want?” you manage to breathe out.

A part of you doesn’t want to face your ex-lover ever again in this lifetime. And yet despite it all, your heart screams for closure, resolving to remain unrelenting in its desires until every loose thread of your tragedy has been tied up neatly. You don’t know what to hope for at this point.

“You remember the poisoning case from a few years ago?” Wriothesley questions you.

It takes all your willpower to resist the urge to scoff.

“Who would forget the murder that changed their life forever?” Your voice comes out wry, bitterness intricately working its way into each inflection. Despite your attempts to exercise restraint, you find that your emotions are beginning to overtake rationality.

“Alright,” Wriothesley says hesitantly, “then I guess there’s no better time to break the news.” The suffering in his drawn-out sigh is palpable. “Suspicious new evidence related to the case has emerged recently. The Marechaussee Phantom is beginning to suspect that there’s more to it than what they initially found,” Wriothesley starts. Before he can continue, you interrupt him.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Right.” With an exasperated click of his tongue, Wriothesley moves on. “That’s where you come in. Since you’re so closely-linked with the events that occurred that day, the Iudex has specifically requested your help in the investigation. I take it the possibility of freedom is incentive enough?”

You huff. “Seriously? He has the audacity to ask for my help after all this time without so much as a word? Not even freedom could convince me to work with that absolute — !”

The stern look that manifests within Wriothesley’s sterling irises is enough to prompt you to pause. Although he doesn’t vocalize his concerns, the diamond-esque glimmers of worry that manifest in his eyes speak volumes. Don’t say something you might regret.

So instead of continuing on, you allow yourself a single sigh — an attempt to alleviate all your frustration in a single exhale.

“What I meant was, I’m not sure I could work with the Iudex in any official capacity,” you say, gritting your teeth lest any unsavory words find a way to slip out of your mouth, “given our… complicated history.”

Wriothesley shakes his head, a subtle showing of his displeasure at being caught up in a lover’s quarrel. You can’t really blame him. Any bystander would feel beyond vexed if they were tasked with piecing together the fading ruby fragments of a once-blissful relationship.

“I thought you might say that,” he responds, raising a hand to massage his temples. At the moment, the bags under his eyes appear more prominent than ever, and you begin to wonder how much grief your personal issues with Neuvillette will cause poor Wriothesley. “That’s why you have a week to decide.”

You narrow your eyes to meet a gaze woven from the essence of dimming moonbeams. Wriothesley stares you back, unflinching in his poise.

“Good luck getting me to change my mind,” you scoff. “I’m not facing him ever again.”

A pause.

Silence threatens to consume all under its weight, and you’re left wondering how nothingness can feel so heavy. Wriothesley’s nonchalance seems to disperse, vanishing in the midst of the tense ambience. Now you’re absolutely sure you’re in for a heartfelt conversation — an anomaly amongst the casual paradigm the two of you have been defining over the past few years.

“I’m not great with all this sentimental stuff,” Wriothesley starts, “I mean, I’m hardly experienced with romantic relationships myself despite my age.” He chuckles, and suddenly you feel as though the mood has lightened ever-so-slightly. “But trust me when I say Monsieur Neuvillette still cares deeply about you.”

Does he? Why would anyone stand by helplessly while the person they supposedly love more than life itself is taken from them forever?

Despite the protests that practically fly to the tip of your tongue, you continue listening attentively. Although you keep telling yourself you no longer care about your former lover, perhaps there’s still a small spark of incandescent hope lying somewhere within your heart — an ember of love awaiting a day where it will burst into brilliant flame once more.

“Think about it,” Wriothesley hums, his casual tone slipping effortlessly back into place as if he never broke character. “It’s been years since your case has been closed, and all the loose ends were supposedly tied up when you were sentenced, which means…” He trails off, waiting for you to piece together fragmented bits of logic within the recesses of your mind.

The muddled pieces of knowledge confound you, yet as you consider the implications of Wriothesley’s statement more carefully, a flicker of ingenuity comes to life in a sporadic burst of aureate sparks.

“Which means he never stopped investigating,” you conclude. “He believed it wasn’t me all along.”

The realization dawns on you in shades of phantasmagoric navy. It’s chilling, akin to the unwelcome touch of icy waters. Likewise, it overwhelms you. Its implications are far too profound to be ignored or pushed aside, and you begin to understand that you won’t be able to run away from the man you once loved for eternity.

“And?” Wriothesley adds.

“And he’s been trying to prove my innocence,” you breathe out, feeling disconnected from the moment.

Everything feels surreal, and the last few seconds feel no less oneiric than the ludicrous dreams you’re pulled into every night. It’s as if your world is twisting and turning upside down. You’ve spent all this time trying to incinerate every ounce of affection held within your heart for Neuvillette, bitterly blocking every memory of him from your mind all while he’s been tirelessly working to reunite with you.

Guilt pierces your entire being, enveloping you in a venomous sort of discomfort. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize how unfairly you’ve been treating the man you were once hopelessly-devoted to. Even back then in your emotional state, you should have known he would never betray you, much less in such a profound manner. Yet a part of you is still bitter that it took him this long to do anything. You can’t find it in your heart to forgive him entirely.

Remorse is a complex sentiment. While it pushes individuals to grow and defy past ordainments, it also drives them to make decisions that become ironically more regrettable later on. You feel as though your situation will fit in the latter category as a desire to reconvene with your past lover blazes to life. You’re still beyond enraged when you think about him, but a small flourish of love still remains in your heart. There’s so much you want to know, so without a further thought, you relay your hasty choice to Wriothesley before you can stop yourself.

“Fine, take me up to the surface. I need to speak to Neuvillette.”

The moment you resurface for the first time in years, an epiphany overcomes your senses. You realize how much you missed all the sights and sounds of the outside world — how much you had taken everything for granted back when you were still free.

Every caress of an aquatic zephyr feels like a gentle luxury, and the sensation of golden sunbeams enveloping you in threads of luminous comfort is something entirely otherworldly. You savour the ephemeral peace and serenity that surrounds you, losing yourself in the salty spray of azure waves and the vast beauty of the divine skies above.

As someone who’s allowed above ground routinely for official business, Wriothesley either doesn’t notice your wonder as he escorts you to your destination, or he chooses not to comment on it. Perhaps the beauty of the overworld has become nothing more than a mundanity to him.

The Palais Mermonia is every bit as grand as you remember. It towers over Fontaine, as if watching over the city and all its affairs. The smooth stone walls and opulent detailings adorning the building serve as a welcome reminder of how magnificent Fontaine’s architecture can be — a nice change of pace after spending countless days locked away within the monochromatic metal walls of the Fortress of Meropide.

As Wriothesley leads you through the intricate doors of the Palais Mermonia, you feel a sense of anticipation swell within your heart. Polychromatic butterflies desperately flutter their wings in the pit of your stomach, manifesting in a swarm of discombobulating chaos. With every step you take towards Neuvillette’s office, you feel your feet grow heavier. By the time you’re standing before the entrance, you feel as if you’re practically glued to the ground. The only things that keep you going are Wriothesley’s watchful stare and careful guidance.

The dark-haired man beside you pushes the door open and motions for you to enter first. As much as you’d rather hide behind Wriothesley, you decide to swallow your nerves and step into the office before him.

Unfortunately for you, the first sight that greets you upon entering the office is the face of a man you’ve been trying to avoid for years now, whether in the waking world or slumber. Against your own will, you note that he appears just as breathtaking as the day you lost him. Every detail of his suit is as pristine as ever, not a single wrinkle in sight, no matter how hard you scrutinize. His hair looks as soft and voluminous as usual, each strand of cerulean a sharp contrast to silken starlight. Simply put it, nothing has changed, and as you look into his eyes, you realize just how accurate your inference is.

Molten tanzanite fills eyes akin to galaxies occupied by subtle glimmers of emotion. Even now, you find that you can read him perfectly. Although he appears serious on the surface, a single examination of Neuvillette’s gaze is all it takes for you to spot the luminous adoration that gleams beneath layers of carefully-crafted defenses.

Damn it. Don’t look at me like that.

It’s a look you’d recognize anywhere — a look you had once loved with all your heart, yet now it feels detestable more than anything. The ironic juxtaposition between your feelings in past and present nearly makes you laugh. It’s a bleak reminder of how greatly circumstances have shifted — how everything is wrong now.

Not a word is spoken as you sit down in a chair across from Neuvillette. Although you had assumed Wriothesley would join you, he stands off to the side before you can even protest. Any attempt to call him back over would definitely make it obvious that you didn’t want to have what was essentially a one-on-one conversation with your ex.

“[Name],” Neuvillette greets you formally, his tone steady and practiced. It feels unnatural after all you’ve been through; in the past, endearment would lace his tone each time he spoke to you, conveying the true depth of his feelings with a single whisper. This stiff rendition of the fantasia that used to be your name falling from his lips is nothing like the soft melody you’d become accustomed to so long ago.

“Neuvillette,” you shoot back, trying your best to keep your voice from reverting to its affectionate default. Although you’re unsure about acting cold towards the man, you’re certain neither of you would be fine with immediately going back to the way you were before the entire disaster unfolded in a matter of mere seconds.

(And besides that, you’re still somewhat angry it took him literal years to find a way to get you out of Meropide.)

“I hope you’ve been well,” Neuvillette says, his tone softening ever-so-subtly. Vulnerability works its way into a slight waver of his voice, a nearly-unnoticeable detail that any average person would miss. However, you are not an average person. You’ve acquainted yourself with every intricacy of Neuevillette’s personality over the years, and even now, every detail is preserved perfectly within the archives of your memory.

“I was as well as I could be in prison, I guess,” you mumble.

Even you’re not quite sure if your passing comment is an attempt at humour or a jab at your previous lover. Fortunately for you, Neuvillette doesn’t attempt to laugh. Instead, he simply nods.

“I see…” he trails off, staring at you intently. Eyes filled with hues of softened lilac and faint periwinkle blue bear into your soul, inspecting you with a gaze woven from twilight. Stardust suspicion seems to glint in Neuvillette’s irises, but he doesn’t pry. “What have you be—”

“Enough small talk. Can we get to the point?” you force out. You’re still not quite sure how you feel about the fact that Neuvillette still cares about you, so you push aside your emotions for the moment to focus on the main issue. As much as you want to ask what your relationship has become, everything feels far too overwhelming now that he’s in front of you again for the first time in years. “What exactly do you want me to do for you?”

Neuvillette pauses for a second, mulling over his next words. He doesn’t try to push the previous topic. Instead, he complies with your request.

“Work alongside me,” he says. “I’m aware that you may not find this to be the ideal arrangement, but ever since your sentencing, your reputation has become…” Neuvillette can’t bring himself to finish his sentence, so you interject.

“Awful? Dismal? Lower than low?” you chuckle bitterly. “I know. I didn’t expect any more when I agreed to come back up to the surface.”

For a second, pity sparkles in Neuvillette’s eyes, a look reminiscent of fragments of sunlight reflecting off sapphire ocean waves. You promptly decide that you hate it.

“Yes. Although I would not put it in such — brazen terms. If you would like an opportunity to clear your name, I would suggest putting serious consideration towards aiding in the second round of investigation. Please do let me know your verdict as soon as possible.”

“Why are you asking me as if I have a choice? It’s either help you or return to prison. Obviously one option is better than the other,” you sigh as a shiver runs down your spine. You know you’ll be in for an awkward few weeks. Spending every second by Neuvillette’s side is a harrowing nightmare come to life, but there’s no better way out of your dilemma. “I’ll join your stupid investigation.”

“Very well then,” Neuvillette responds. “I will show you to your accommodations in due time. Guards will be stationed outside your door around the clock in everyone’s best interest.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Even with contradictory evidence, you’re still going to be treated like a criminal until you’re proven definitively innocent.

“Please note that you will begin assisting me tomorrow.”

With that, Neuvillette turns to Wriothesley, acknowledging him for the first time since the two of you entered the room. “Mr. Wriothesley, thank you for escorting [name] to my office. You may now take your leave.”

A part of you wants to beg Wriothelsey not to leave you alone with Neuvillette, but for once, you decide that you have to start being brave. So with bated breath and a heavy heart, you watch as your sole companion in recent times turns away, heading back to an unreachable world below the surface.

You’re on your own now in a place that has become entirely foreign to you.

The silken covers of the bed you’re provided are surprisingly comfortable. Wrapping each seafoam-coloured blanket around your body feels like being enveloped in a cloud, and sinking into a soft mattress is a luxury you have long forgotten after becoming accustomed to your dorm in the Fortress of Meropide. Needless to say, you find your slumber shockingly restful despite all the turbulent feelings arising within the pit of your stomach, threatening to overtake your rationality and fill you with a cold, chilling panic.

No, the panic only sets in when you’re escorted back to Neuvillette’s office the next morning by the two guards sent to oversee your activities. It’s akin to being plunged into the depths of freezing lapis waters, losing your grip beneath waves forged from midnight essence. A whole day alone together with Neuvillette is going to be a challenge, and unfortunately, your nerves get the better of you.

You hear his voice as cool perspiration forms on the back of your neck, slight shivers running down your spine.

“Good morning,” Neuvillette greets you, as composed and regal as ever.

You envy his ability to behave as though he’s tranquility personified, even in such an awkward situation. His composure is a virtue.

“You let me sleep in,” you note. The sunbeams that filter through Neuvillette’s window in a flurry of faded daffodil shades look nothing like the gilded threads of light that grace Fontaine at sunrise. Besides that, you can already hear a fair amount of chatter outside the office, and you even recall spotting a few passer-bys scurrying about as you were accompanied to the Palais Mermonia.

“Indeed I did,” Neuvillette confirms your suspicions.

You glare at him. “I thought you wanted me up bright and early to help you investigate.”

The man before you sighs. “Based on your behaviour yesterday, I inferred that the past few days have been rather taxing on you emotionally. I wanted to give you ample time to recuperate to ensure that you would be able to think optimally today.”

Neuvillette’s eyes soften, a rare sort of gentleness manifesting in dulled lavender, a hue pulled straight from an evening afterglow.

You recall a passing thought from a time you had watched nightfall overtake the heavens with Neuvillette a few years back. At the time, he had looked at you with the same soft gaze, examining you with an expression that conveyed unspoken understanding and affection. You remember noting the way his irises seemed to reflect the muted iridescent shades above. Back then, everything had been so tranquil, euphoric. A part of you can’t help but desperately wish to go back in time.

“Thank you,” you relent, finally acknowledging Neuvillette’s kindness.

Neuvillette shakes his head. “There is no need to thank me,” he states. “This is beneficial to both of us. After all, I don’t expect you to work effectively with a tired mind.”

Without another word, Neuvillette pulls out a pile of official documents, their worn ivory pages a stark contrast to a second untainted milky white stack he sets on his desk.

“As you may be able to tell, these are the case files from the initial investigation,” Neuvillette points to the first collection of papers, “and these are documents containing new developments.” He points at the pristine new records.

“Can you summarize what exactly made you revisit the case?” you ask Neuvillette. Personally, you don’t feel like spending a full day poring over documents instead of investigating. That’s just inefficiency at its finest. Why do that when you have someone who seems to revel in records to explain everything to you?

Neuvillette allows a light chuckle to slip past his lips, the sound a nostalgic fantasia as it reaches your ears. “I see that you haven’t stopped finding the easiest way to complete your tasks,” he jests, “but very well. This will save us a considerable amount of time.”

You sit with bated breath, suspense filling the atmosphere as you patiently wait to learn the exact evidence that may have altered your fate entirely.

“Firstly, to reiterate, the murder was a poisoning,” Neuvillette starts. “A member of the Marechaussee Phantom was found dead at a banquet with a drink in hand. Its contents were found to be normal for the most part, but when investigated more thoroughly, trace amounts of a toxic substance were found.”

You nod with fervour, every intricate puzzle piece of the case that had dictated your destiny all those years ago still fresh in your mind.

“You were the one who poured the drink.” Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you because for the first time in your life, you hear Neuvillette’s voice tremble slightly, like a resplendent leaf as it drifts on an autumnal breeze. “There was no way to prove your innocence at the time, and no matter how hard we tried to trace the origins of the poison, all we could discern was that it was fast-acting, which thankfully meant that there were no other casualties. Unfortunately, we were unable to find any compelling leads…” Neuvillette pauses, “until now.”

“Recently, a worker from a drink factory has approached us with reports of suspicious activities within the facility. Although most employees are kept in the front of the building to manage the machines and ensure that the quality of each bottle sufficiently meets company standards, there are a select few allowed in the back to oversee the entire operation.”

“What does this have to do with the case?” you interject. You can feel your interest waning as Neuvillette’s words become tangent-adjacent.

“Not everything is as it seems,” he assures you. “Around a week ago, the worker ventured into the back, desperately searching for one of their superiors. The higher-up in question had assigned them a task, and afterwards, they proceeded to disappear for weeks on end. When looking for their manager, the worker discovered the truth of the facility.”

Your breath hitches in anticipation.

“Put simply, the entire drink production operation is a deception. The company’s real purpose is to produce a rare variety of poison. Fortunately, we managed to procure a sample of it, and when tested, it was found to be identical to the very substance used to assassinate the victim of your case.”

Although you want to correct Neuvillette, you hold your tongue. There’s no point in getting off-track.

“So you want me to help you find out who put the poison in the bottle?” you ask.

Neuvillette nods. “We could have simply paid a visit to the Fortress of Meropide and interrogated you from there, but I thought you would appreciate a little freedom and control over your own destiny. Besides that, I know you’re competent, and the rest of the investigation could greatly benefit from your assistance.”

“Is that really all there is to it? I’m sure lots of people out here were against the idea of letting me roam free for fear of their own safety, so it must have been quite a challenge to get me out in the first place,” you scoff. “If my comfort was the only factor in play, then you would have simply taken the easy way out and questioned me in prison to appease everyone.”

For a moment, Neuvillette hesitates. Transitory silence fills the air before being fragmented into crystalline shards of dissonant revelation that cause goosebumps to grace the surface of your skin.

“Your intuition is as sharp as ever,” he sighs. Suddenly, he looks all too exhausted, and you begin to realize how hard he fought to earn you your temporary freedom. “All the citizens of Fontaine believe that the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale is perfect, flawless in its very nature. However, after your sentencing, doubt started to circulate, and I found myself among those who questioned the outcome of the case. It felt as though the full truth had not been revealed to us yet, and your punishment was ordained solely by a hasty collection of shaky facts gathered through a rushed investigation. It was entirely… unjust… the opposite of what Fontaine stands for.”

“There it is. You’re doing this all in the name of what’s right, as usual.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting Neuvillette to say. Perhaps you wanted him to tell you that he would never lose faith in you, his once dearly-beloved. Or maybe you were wishing with every fibre of your being that he would simply say he still cared and wanted you back.

But no, he’s Neuvillette.

Above all, he is fair.

He is justice.

The gazes of everyone in the interrogation room seem to burn with the light of a thousand stars, their pressuring radiance serving as an instrument of truth — a way to seek sincere answers to any questions that are posed. You shrink under their phosphorescence, feeling insignificant as the demands of all the officials in the room coalesce.

Before you stands Neuvillette, a few guards, and a couple members of the Marechaussee Phantom. You recognize the latter two as personal friends of the victim — people with personal stakes in the case.

“Do you remember who gave you the bottle?” a melusine inquires.

You force yourself to take a deep breath in, oxygen feeling like the sweetest ambrosia as you try to calm yourself. It’s funny. The small creature is at most half your size, potentially even less, yet you’re the one who feels intimidation well up in the pit of your stomach like the ebb and flow of an evening tide.

“A man named Gabriel, I think? He handed me the bottle while I was walking around and asked me to pass it around for him because he was busy running other supplies around the party.”

“That seems to line up with the records from the trial,” Neuvillette muses, flipping through his documents, “but when we investigated, we found no trace of such an individual, which leads us to believe that they utilized an alias and a disguise to conceal their true identity.”

You have enough restraint to hold back a groan. Here we go again with all the complexities.

“The bottle was screwed shut and completely full before you poured the victim a glass of juice, correct?” The melusine continues their questioning, meeting your eyes with a gaze composed of molten tourmaline.

“Yes,” you confirm. “Doesn’t that just make me look more guilty though? Clearly the poison couldn’t have been in the drink because the bottle hadn’t been unsealed yet, so the court deemed that the only logical conclusion was that I slipped something into the victim’s drink in the split second where nobody was looking.”

The melusine sighs. “With the emerging evidence, we’ve come up with a new theory. If the person responsible for the murder truly wasn’t you, then perhaps the actual perpetrator had a different means of mixing the toxic substance with the beverage. Keep in mind, the poison manufacturer is also a drink manufacturer.”

You pause for a moment, a frown etching itself into your features. You’re starting to see where this is going, but you don’t quite understand the big picture yet. “Elaborate, please.”

Neuvillette takes over. “If our new running theory is correct, then this is how the timeline of events occurred. The suspect was likely an authority figure at the aforementioned drink company, or at the very least, they were relatively close with someone who had power there. In order to throw off the investigation, they managed to spike the beverage before it was sealed in the factory. By doing this, they falsely led us to believe that the poison was poured into the cup instead of into the bottle, thereby alleviating the manufacturer of any suspicion.”

Oh. Suddenly everything is beginning to make a lot more sense. As each string of evidence begins to fall into place, a tapestry of truth is woven. At long last, an alternate story is starting to replace the false narrative that had been in circulation at the time of the case’s unraveling.

“It worked,” you breathe out. “Nobody even bothered to check the contents of the bottle because they were so focused on who was close enough to sneak something into the victim’s cup in the brief moment between the pouring of the drink and the first sip.”

“And for that I must apologize,” Neuvillette sighs, a thousand unspoken regrets lacing his tone. “Our investigation was not thorough enough, and this time, I do not intend to allow any more injustices to befall you.”

As you peer into Neuvillette’s eyes, you catch sight of sincerity manifesting in their depths, each glint of violaceous luminosity conveying a silent promise to protect you. At that moment, you’re sure that Neuvillette believes you were nothing more than an innocent bystander entangled in a web of schemes. Even if the rest of the world is still against you, at least you have him.

“Thank you. I’ll try my best to help you as much as I can.” You finally relent and decide that perhaps it’s time to adopt a policy of compliance; now that you’re sure your intentions all align, you feel ready to work with Neuvillette without reservations.

“Permission to share what we found out about the bottle?” the melusine from before interrupts your moment with Neuvillette, your transient flash of bliss disappearing within a blink. You can’t blame them, as your main priority right now is getting to the bottom of things.

Neuvillette nods, wordlessly indicating his approval.

“As you may know, we took in all items related to the investigation that day. The bottle of beverage was among them. We recently tested the liquid inside, and as expected, there were traces of poison mixed with the drink. It’s worth noting that the drink itself is the same one produced by the suspicious facility we received a report about recently.”

“So I’ve almost been proven entirely innocent?” You can’t resist the urge to ask, the idea of being pardoned after being assumed guilty for so long a saccharine respite.

“Yes, as long as we can apprehend the real criminals and get them to confess to their crimes, you’ll be free,” the melusine confirms. “Fortunately, the worker and the contents of the bottle have led us to the perfect place to start our second inspection — the factory.”

Not even a day later, you rise bright and early to look into the manufacturer with Neuvillette. As the suspect framed in a murder linked to the factory’s poison, your reappearance above ground is bound to set off some red flags in the minds of those who helped orchestrate the entire ordeal. Consequently, you don an uncomfortable disguise while Neuvillette simply plans on masquerading around the place as himself.

It’s ironic. Neuvillette, the renowned Iudex of Fontaine, can roam without fear of interference as his genuine self. Meanwhile, you, a mere nobody, are forced to adorn yourself with layers of obscurities, masking every aspect of your identity.

The contrast between your situations is almost amusing, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh. Even as silken strands of opulent golden sunlight grace your skin, sending a rush of warmth through your body, you can’t help but tremble. The stakes are high, and the possibility of being discovered is distressing to an extreme.

“Shall I go over the narrative one last time?” Neuvillette asks you as your destination seems to grow larger and larger. The grey stone that the building is forged of is reminiscent of the colour of storm clouds — ominous and foreboding.

“Wouldn’t hurt to,” you mumble, willing yourself to stop shivering immediately. You’ll draw even more attention to yourself if you continue to shake like ultramarine ripples on the surface of a turbulent lake.

“Fontaine’s food and drink products have been suffering a decline in quality lately,” Neuvillette states, “and we are here today to perform a health inspection. Although the Iudex is typically not involved with investigating such trivial matters, the issue has become profound. The lives of several Fontainians have already been jeopardized, so in an attempt to prevent any further tragedies, I have decided to personally step in alongside my assistant.”

You hum absentmindedly, still distracted by your nerves. It feels as though permafrost has infused itself with your soul, as you continue to quiver despite all your attempt to ground yourself. “Compelling,” you manage to force out.

You’re drawn back to reality by Neuvillette’s next actions. To your horror, his familiarity with your emotions due to your shared history is your detriment. Before you can process what’s happening, he takes your hand in his. His gentle grip is soothing, and it serves as a much-needed reminder that you’re in this together.

“No matter what happens, I will be by your side,” he reassures you.

For a second, it feels like you’re back in the past. Everything is fine between you and Neuvillette, and you can still trust him unconditionally. Although your relationship has deteriorated now, you find that his presence still brings you a sense of comfort.

Perhaps some sentiments are simply meant to endure forevermore.

There’s nothing remarkable about the inside of the factory at first glance. As expected, typical assembly lines are present within the vicinity to ensure that every bottle is assembled and packaged in an efficient manner. On the surface, nothing seems out-of-the-ordinary.

Your tour guide is friendly and welcoming, not intimidated in the slightest by Neuvillette’s regal presence. Although his appearance garners a few curious glances from the employees you pass by, no one is outright alarmed.

“So as you can see, our humble facility does indeed live up to all the health and safety regulations mandated by Fontainian law,” your guide concludes as your mundane tour draws to a close.

In all honesty, you’ve learned nothing even remotely useful. However, you refuse to leave empty-handed. As such, you decide to make an impulsive decision — a choice that will perhaps cast suspicion upon you, but if everything goes well, you could obtain crucial evidence pertaining to the case.

“We haven’t seen the back of the factory yet,” you muse. “Is there something you’re trying to hide from us? Mold, perhaps?” you pause for dramatic effect, trying your best to play it up. All you can do is desperately pray that your acting skills are enough to convince the tour guide you’re being genuine. “Or maybe an insect infestation.”

A laugh slips past the tour guide’s lips, piercing the awkward atmosphere with a timbre and articulation far too forced to indicate any sort of amusement. No, the guide is nervous, which means something is definitely off. You just need to gather concrete evidence of the misdemeanours being conducted behind the scenes of a grand diversion — something that means more than a simple vial of poison hailing from an unknown origin brought to you by a worker.

“Oh, my superiors typically prefer privacy,” the guide continues to chuckle, a slight hint of anxiety permeating his tone. “There are lots of important meetings held in the back, and they’re not the most fond of disturbances.”

One scrutinizing glance from Neuvillette is all it takes to send the guard reeling. Eyes swimming with delicate lilac narrow, any hint of gentleness fading like the brilliance of wilting petals.

“But I’m sure they can make an exception for our most honoured guests.” Swiftly, the guide makes his way over to the door leading to the back, pulling it open and gesturing for both you and Neuvillette to pass through.

Yet again, you find that you’re met with a sight that’s mediocre at finest. There’s nothing extremely telling about the meeting rooms you’re led through. However, as you wander through the winding corridors and desolate hallways of the surprisingly large area, you spot it — a sizable wardrobe sitting within what feels like the hundredth meeting room you’ve passed through.

Like everything else in this strange place, there’s nothing off about the furnishing upon initial inspection, but after a few moments of careful consideration, you note that it’s far too sumptuous to be in a place like this. It’s horribly out-of-place, a polished oak eyesore amongst the cool-toned decorations within the room.

As you share a look with Neuvillette, you can see that he’s having similar thoughts. At some point in time, someone moved the wardrobe into the room, likely to conceal something. Taking a closer look is essential, but first you need to find a way to distract the guide.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt the guide’s tangent. “Is there a bathroom anywhere nearby?”

Within a matter of minutes, both you and  Neuvillette are escorted over to the nearest bathroom. You enter the room and lock the door. Although you haven’t had an opportunity to discuss a plan with Neuvillette due to the prying ears stationed right next to the two of you, you know what he’ll do next. You’re sure he understands you well enough to know that what you need at the moment is a diversion.

Sure enough, your silent pleas are answered as Neuvillette walks a few steps away from the bathroom door, his footsteps thrumming against the frigid ground as a percussive background to the eerie soundtrack that seems to flood the entire factory.

“Is that an insect?” he inquires.

You hear a rush of frenzied steps, ones that you can distinctly differentiate from Neuvillette’s. That must be the guide.

“Where?” the guide’s voice rings out.

You hear the soft rustle of clothing as the guide supposedly leans over in order to take a closer look. Then, a loud bang shatters the quietude into jagged shards of chaos. You take it as your sign to open the bathroom door and sneak off quietly.

“Ah, forgive me. I was mistaken,” you hear Neuvillette’s voice fade into the distance.

The labyrinth of passages is difficult to navigate, but thankfully your memory is sufficient enough to guide you back along the route from whence you came. In a matter of minutes, you’re back at the wardrobe, scrambling to unveil every enigmatic secret hiding behind its prosaically plain exterior.

Common sense tells you to simply open it first, and sure enough, you find that the back of the furnishing has been hollowed out in order to form a passageway leading to an unknown location. Although you’re nervous, moving forwards is the only way you’re going to make any progress.

You force yourself to confront the mysterious tunnel, heading into its depths in order to collect the next piece of information you need to fully unravel the identity of the true killer.

This is for justice, you tell yourself. Begrudgingly, you also find thoughts of it’s what Neuvillette would do invading your mind.

When you finally step into a mundane office space, you feel as though you can breathe again. The daze slowly begins to subside, and in its wake, you find rationality once more.

Time is of the essence, so you decide to head over to the singular desk stationed in the room. On its surface is a collection of scattered papers, some frayed and others in mint condition. Immediately, you make a dash for the yellowed pages, scanning each one quickly before setting it down.

The documents seem to detail transactions between the company and those buying from their hidden business in the back. Each one is stamped with a date and a signature from the buyer stating that they will not (under any circumstance) reveal where the product they purchased came from. Perfect — all you have to do is find a file that seems to align with the relative time period where your crime took place.

Fortunately for you, the once-daunting plethora of papers is actually a far more meager pile than you had initially thought. Perhaps not many people know about the nefarious schemes that lie behind the factory’s fabricated façade, or maybe humans are simply sensible enough to avoid purchasing poison.

You search urgently, constantly looking over your shoulder and hoping, praying, to any archon listening to keep your deeds obscured and unwritten. However, through it all, you’re hindered by the fact that you have to actively try not to move things around too much. If someone returns to see that objects have shifted on their own, they’ll surely be on high alert.

After what feels like eons of blindly flipping through anything you could get your hands on, your eyes settle on a splotch of achromatic ink bleeding into canary. It’s a familiar date — around a week before your entire life fell apart. You grab the paper, and with one last scan of the other files, you’re nearly certain that it details the transaction of the very poison that broke down fate’s last defences, landing you in a prison you were never supposed to step foot in.

With haste, you stuff the document into your pocket and set off back to Neuvillette.

“We used to frequent that restaurant often,” Neuvillette muses as you wander the streets together.

Your tour had concluded around half an hour ago, and now you’re on your way back to the Palais Mermonia. Although you assured Neuvillette that you had obtained some useful evidence earlier through words whispered in the secrecy of a hushed voice, you know that you can’t discuss anything openly for fear of nosey bystanders — or worse, the criminals themselves — hearing.

You had taken a long time to find what you needed, so consequently it had been difficult to throw off any lingering doubt harboured by your guide. However, thanks to Neuvillette’s quick thinking, you were able to come up with an alibi.

The whole “bathroom” ruse had simply been a test — a plan to conduct your thorough inspection of the facility in an area typically skipped over, even on the most comprehensive tours. You had chimed in and said that the company passed with flying colours, and at that the guide simply beamed and continued leading you through meeting rooms.

Your reminiscence is interrupted as Neuvillette speaks again.

“Perhaps we should take a detour and visit,” he offers. “You must be famished after a day of hard work.”

You freeze, and your body tenses against your will. Isn’t it more important at the moment that you safely transport your evidence back to Neuvillette’s office? You tilt your head at Neuvillette curiously, as if to pose a question. Why are we wasting time?

“Trust me,” he leans in to whisper. You can feel his breath tickling your ear, yet you don’t flinch. It’s a feeling you had grown accustomed to years ago, and even now, having him close to you feels detestably right. “It will seem more like a casual outing if we make a leisurely stop along the way back. If we’re seen rushing back to the Palais Mermonia with a sense of urgency in our stride, then those around us will surely conclude that something is wrong.”

Neuvillette’s reasoning is sound, so despite your aching feet and your desire to simply get away from the cacophony of symphonic noise surrounding you, you allow him to pull you towards the restaurant. As you walk in, you find that all your senses are enveloped by the familiarity of deja vu. The pleasant lighting and floral arrangements begin to pop up in your memory, and the ornate furnishings that adorn the place are the same as ever.

A part of you finds that you missed this. You missed your simple traditions with Neuvillette.

The two of you are seated the moment you step foot in the restaurant. You can’t seem to recall if the staff had ever been this efficient before, but something tells you this is a special circumstance.

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” a waiter greets the Iudex as you both take your seats. You find that you recognize him. “It’s been a while since you’ve been here with company, much less someone other than [name].”

Right. No one recognizes you because you’re still clad in your stupid disguise.

“Ah, good evening, Pierre,” Neuvillette responds. “My companion here is a newly-hired assistant. They have been working tirelessly all day, so I decided to treat them to a meal. Although they are not [name], I hope you will be able to treat them with the same hospitality.”

A frenzy of nods follows Neuvillette’s words.

“What can I get for you today?” Pierre frantically asks you. As usual, people are eager to please Neuvillette, his position of power ever-pertinent within the recesses of their minds.

You scan the menu, and a rush of nostalgia overwhelms you for what feels like the millionth time in the past few days. There are a variety of dishes listed in neat loopy handwriting, each cursive word causing recollections to ebb and flow within your memory. However, your eyes settle on one menu item in particular — a former personal favourite of yours. Feeling satisfied, you decide to place your order. As you speak, you notice shock dance across the waiter’s visage.

“Is something wrong?” you question Pierre, scrutinizing his dumbfounded expression. If you could, you would dissect the meaning behind every line etched into his features — examine the anatomy of his curious stare.

Pierre shakes his head with fervour. “Nothing’s wrong, per se…” He trails off, the aquamarine lakes that comprise his irises fogging up with a shine unique to someone who’s reminiscing. “It’s just… that dish is one of our least popular, but [name] used to order it all the time. Nowadays, the only person who really consumes it regularly is Monsieur Neuvillette himself.”

Tension begins to materialize within the previously-lighthearted air of the restaurant. Suddenly, the atmosphere feels heavy as the implications of Pierre’s statement sink in. Once upon a time, you had offered Neuvillette a bite of your food when dining here, and although he didn’t mean to insult it, he did say that he understood why it was unpopular. In other words, he indirectly insinuated that he didn’t like the taste of the dish.

Perhaps you’re overly-optimistic, but a part of you begins to speculate that Neuvillette only willingly ordered the menu item regularly because of the memories associated with it. It’s a shockingly sweet revelation. Despite your distance over the years, he’s still tried his best to keep you in his heart.

Bittersweet affection gnaws at your heart, chipping off pieces of garnet in a cataclysmic heartbreak. As if you don’t already feel bad enough about your attempted erasure of his existence from your memory during your time in prison.

You zone out as Neuvillette places his order. All you manage to catch is the fact that he doesn’t ask for a serving of your favourite meal this time around.

So it really was all for you.

As Pierre walks away, you turn to study Neuvillette, your gaze sharp.

“What was that all about?”

For a second, Neuvillette stills, collecting his thoughts. Then, he makes eye contact, a stare composed of crepuscular shades of amethyst.

“I must admit, my heart longed for you throughout the years we spent apart,” Neuvillette confesses.

Darn it. Why can’t he be normal for once?

Your heartbeat, once a steady rhythm, begins to become erratic. It pounds in your ears with an unmatched urgency, as if its ultimate goal is simply to leap out of your chest and retreat back into your ex-lover’s gentle grasp.

“I see,” you mumble, beginning to feel awkward.

Silence envelopes your own personal world with Neuvillette as you wait for the waiter to come back with your food. Neither of you can bring yourselves to keep the conversation going. Any small talk would seem disingenuous at this point, and the mere idea of pressing on with the previous topic is enough to make you shudder.

Thankfully, Pierre is surprisingly quick (although that may have something to do with the fact that you’re dining with the Iudex himself), and you find that you’re able to dig into your meal to distract yourself in no time.

It tastes the same as you remember. In fact, nothing has really changed, even with the passage of time. Out of everything in the entire restaurant, you find that you and Neuvillette have undergone the most profound transformations, your once-loving relationship eroding into a confusing mess of broken trust, dubious betrayals, and yearning.

(At the end of the night, you find that a miniscule ember of love remains alive in your heart — a weak crimson glow beginning to ignite once more.)

The journey back to the Palais Mermonia is tranquil, the night air soothing the anxious thoughts plaguing your mind. Stars beam down at you from above, shedding brilliant silvery light over the entirety of the nation. Likewise, the moon guides your path back to the grand building where you wrap up your investigation for the day.

Upon entering Neuvillette’s office, you immediately beeline for his desk, pulling the document that took you a painstaking amount of effort to obtain out and setting it on the polished wooden surface. Curiously, eyes the shade of dulled anemone petals scan the contents of the page.

Neuvillette reads quickly, taking in all the information contained within the file in no time. After a lifetime of poring over records, he’s become accustomed to processing critical points of knowledge efficiently. However, he freezes as his gaze settles on the signature at the bottom of the page.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

You’ve never seen Neuvillette quite so shaken up, his composure torn away from him momentarily. In the moment, all that matters to you is ensuring that he’s okay. Before you realize it, you find yourself reaching out to him, an evanescent flash back to the past in a present that feels so far-removed. A few days ago, you never would have dreamed of comforting him, much less allowing him to make any sort of contact with you. Now, however, you’re beginning to unwind all the hasty misconceptions you had harboured for years on end.

You’ve come to understand that despite being worlds apart, you were still at the forefront of all Neuvillette’s sentiments throughout the past few years. He’s cared about you from afar beyond simply spying on your life through Wriothesley for all this time. It’s time you finally start treating him right.

To your relief, he doesn’t refuse your hand. Instead, he intertwines your fingers as he continues to gape at midnight upon ivory, reading the buyer’s name over and over. Finally, the calm returns to Neuvillette, his vulnerability dissipating after what feels like eons (in actuality, it’s no more than ten seconds).

“Apologies,” Neuvillette says, his voice as steady as ever. “Seeing the signature of the buyer… confirmed a suspicion of mine. However, this revelation is not necessarily a thrilling one. In fact, I would say that it is rather… disappointing and tragic.”

You tilt your head slightly, wonder swirling through your thoughts in spirals of erratic questions. “Why’s that?”

The sigh that Neuvillette heaves out is perhaps the most dramatically-depressing noise that’s ever left his lips. Creases line his forehead, marring porcelain skin with lines that convey concern and dismay.

“This is the name of one of our current Marechaussee Phantom members,” Neuvillette breathes out. “As a matter of fact, he was the one who assumed the position of the victim after their death. In addition to this, he was the only member who was intentionally not informed of the dealings of the deceptive factory. I withheld information from him because I had my own suspicions. I fear that my judgement was correct. If I had informed him that we were looking into the facility, these records would have been destroyed long before we stepped foot inside the building.”

“Wait a second! That sounds way too suspicious,” you say, your voice coming out slightly more aggressive than you want it to. You flinch as your tone reaches your ears. “Why didn’t anyone look into them or at least suspect them?”

“He was the deceased’s lover.” Your breath hitches as Neuvillette continues his explanation. “His grief after learning of the death was immense, so much so that no one could dare to consider the possibility that…”

“That he was the culprit,” you finish. “No one wanted to believe the lovers could betray each other.” You nearly scoff as you realize the irony of you saying this to your very own ex.

Neuvillette nods as you exhale tiredly. Everything is finally coming together after years. At long last, you’ve found another candidate for the possible murderer — the real deal this time.

“I had my doubts about him,” Neuvillette mumbles. “Although tears serve as an effective distractor, insincerity shines brighter than even the most dramatic of theatrics. I have never revealed this to anyone, but besides his qualifications and honouring the memory of our fallen comrade, one of the reasons I assigned him to his current position was to maintain a close watch over him at all times. Despite the precautions I took… I had hoped with all my heart that I would not be proven right.”

“And yet you were, so what now,” you inquire. “Do we just apprehend him and call it a day?”

“I would be pleased if it were that easy,” Neuvillette smiles wryly, “but there are many who would still be unwilling to trust our claims without further evidence. Think about it — would you really want to believe that a trusted member of the Marechaussee Phantom is a cold-blooded murderer? The very notion is inappropriately ironic.”

As Neuvillette’s reasoning sinks in, you nod along. What he’s saying makes sense, but you’re unsure of how you should proceed from here. To your relief, Neuvillette has a solution, as always.

“Considering the fact that the perpetrator has insider information, he’s already aware that we are currently revisiting the case,” Neuvillette reiterates. “As such, his main priority at the moment is to cement your status as the real culprit behind the crime. All he needs is an ample opportunity.”

This is getting far too complicated for your liking.

“In order to catch him in the act, we’ll organize another banquet. It will be the perfect opportunity for him to frame you for another poisoning.”

Neuvillette’s logic is hard to follow, and as you pause to think about it, every thread of reasoning becomes lost in a jumble of nonsensical speculation.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you mutter. “He’s not stupid enough to assume that I’d poison someone right after obtaining freedom. That would look too hasty, so foul play would be suspected immediately.”

“And that’s why I think he’ll target you with his poison,” Neuvillette interjects.

Your frown deepens as his claims become more and more bizarre.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Let me explain everything,” Neuvillette starts. “In order to connect the two cases to each other, the perpetrator will likely use the same weapon again. However, this time his target will be you. As you pointed out, if he harms anyone else, it will instantaneously appear as though someone is eager to falsely accuse you of committing crimes. By non-fatally poisoning you, he can claim that you willingly drank your own weapon in an attempt to throw off suspicion. He can point to the similarities in the compositions of the substances used in both cases to frame you as the one true mastermind behind everything.”

The pieces finally begin to coalesce in your mind, forming a shaky plan that hinges on oceans of luck and protection from Celestia above. It’s risky, but it may be your only chance to set things straight.

“Your great plan is just based on endangering me in order to collect a sample of whatever that person is going to give me?”

“I understand that it may be difficult for you to trust me entirely after everything,” Neuvillette sighs, “but if you agree to my proposition, then I promise I will personally ensure that no harm will come to you.”

After the events of the past two days, you know where your heart wants to stand. In spite of this, your mind screams at you to reject Neuvillette’s idea. You’re scared — terrified. The thought of being let down by Neuvillette again induces a fear in you like no other. Despite it all, you understand that you’ll never truly heal if you don’t at least try to give him another chance, so ultimately, you decide to comply.

“Alright, let’s start party planning.”

Weeks of preparation lead up to the big evening, every passing day a countdown to a finale to end all finales. On top of gathering supplies, arranging catering, and decorating, you’re also drilled on how to act when the moment of danger eventually arrives. You train relentlessly to ensure that Neuvillette’s scheme will go off without a hitch.

All your tireless practices pay off. As you walk into the banquet venue, hand-in-hand with Neuvillette, you find that you’re far less nervous than you had been when the idea was initially proposed. The kaleidoscopic butterflies that once fluttered around in the pit of your stomach have stilled, and you’re utterly calm — exactly what you need to pull this off.

Despite assisting in the planning of the party, you still find yourself awed by the extravagance of it all. You’re not quite sure if Neuvillette has come up with an occasion for celebration yet, as he had initially stated that it was a surprise on the invitations he had sent out. However, you’re sure that no matter its grandeur, the sheer opulence of everything around you is more than sufficient.

Aureate accents adorn nearly every item in the room, and the crystal chandeliers above gleam as though they’re catching moonlight from the midnight sky. The music that envelopes you is warm, each melodious note ringing out in a sweet droning of strings. It’s a perfect backtrack for an elegant waltz.

Most noteworthy of all, however, are the guests that surround you. Not a single person is dressed less than exceptionally. Sparkles, gems, and sequins are commonplace here despite being everyday rarities. Shades of seafoam, cobalt, turquoise, and periwinkle surround you as if the fabric of every guest’s clothing is a component of a lavish ocean of luxury.

Everyone around you dons elaborate masks that obscure only a portion of their faces. It’s a masquerade — a way for you to conceal your true identity from innocent civilians without appearing odd.

You’re quickly dragged out of your thoughts as Neuvillette leads you into the crowd. Everyone is swirling around in a series of intricate steps, twirling to the song that’s resonating within the idyllic air of the room. If not for Neuvillette’s tight grasp on your wrist, you fear you would have been swept away by a tide of partygoers.

“Do you recall how to waltz?” he asks, leaning in closer to ensure that you’re able to hear him over the unpleasant discordance surrounding you from all sides.

“Why does it matter?” you shoot back. Although you’ve opened up more and more to Neuvillette with each passing day, you’re not quite sure you want to dance with him just yet. “It’s not like this is necessary.”

“If we simply sit on the sidelines and observe everything, our suspect is bound to notice,” Neuvillette explains, his voice hushed. “Their eyes will be on you all night.”

The words send a shiver down your spine.

“So do your best to enjoy the moment and act as though you’re simply here to rejuvenate yourself.” Neuvillette pulls you closer, yet he leaves enough room to ensure that you’re not outright uneasy. “Is this arrangement sufficiently comfortable?”

You nod shakily as words seem to stick to the sides of your throat. It’s as though saccharine honey is sugar coating everything, its viscous properties slowing both your lips and your mind.

With your consent, Neuvillette guides you through the steps of a graceful dance. Although he moves with tact, practiced sophistication, you’re the absolute antithesis. Throughout your years underground, you never saw the opportunity to waltz, and as such, you’ve forgotten every intricacy of the choreographies you used to run through with Neuvillette. Thankfully, he keeps you in line, correcting every misstep you make with gentle guidance.

You find that the tenderness with which he handles you is something you’ve missed. Even now with contrasting feelings warring in the depths of your conflicted mind, Neuvillette’s arms are comfort manifested in a physical form. At the end of the day, he’s still home to you, and maybe he always will be. No one else will ever be capable of calming you down right before a criminal attempts to poison you.

For once, you decide to take Neuvillette’s advice. You forget all the duress of the current moment, and instead, you allow yourself to savour the warmth of Neuvillette’s embrace. So much for not being sure about dancing with him.

Time becomes an anomaly. Although each moment seems to slow, drawing out in a montage of careful movements, the dance is over before you know it.

Neuvillette leads you over to your table, and you take a seat atop the rose-coloured cushions of a plush chair, allowing a cream tablecloth to drape over your legs. As you sit down, you feel him tap your shoulder. He’s pointing to a man clad in a striped grey suit, his mask adorned with midnight blue stitching and matching feathers.

It’s your culprit, Francis, as you’ve learned. You don’t intend on allowing him to get away this time.

Patiently, you wait for him to approach you and Neuvillette. You already know he’ll walk up to you with the intention of ensnaring you within his trap. However, you’re two steps ahead in this twisted game of chess.

Sure enough, a grating voice rings out behind you before long.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Predictably, you’re met with the face of your prime suspect as you whip your head around. “And [name].” Right. He knows exactly who you are. Perhaps your imagination is weaving deceptions from preconceived notions, but you swear that you can hear a hint of a sneer in Francis’ words.

He spends some time chatting with Neuvillette, his dialogue consisting of flattery and exaggerated compliments. You’re not sure what your suspect believes he’s accomplishing, but a frown dances across your features as you continue listening in on the conversation. Any average person would be able to detect the deceit in his sickly-sweet tone, so the fact that he’s trying to utilize such a tactic on Neuvillette of all people astounds you.

You can’t help but wince as he makes blunder after blunder, your frustration welling with every sentence that comes out of his mouth. Finally, when it all becomes too much for you, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“Neuvillette, I’m parched,” you complain. “Wanna go get something to drink?” Your own voice makes you cringe. Note to self: learn how to act in a compelling manner if you manage to make it out of this absolute disaster.

“It would be my pleasure to accompany you, but unfortunately I must remain here. Although tonight is a night of leisure, I still have matters to discuss with certain individuals, and they are expecting me here.” You find it fortunate that Neuvillette’s performance is more convincing than your own, his mannerisms and timbre completely natural.

“Oh, don’t worry about them, Monsieur Neuvillette,” Francis says. “Tell you what. I can bring them over to the drinks table for you and give them a few recommendations. I can promise you that I am an expert when it comes to this kind of stuff. My brother owns a drink company.”

This time you’re sure your mind isn’t distorting reality. The smile that he flashes at you is downright devious, assuring you that Neuvillette had been right about his schemes all along.

You take a deep breath before eagerly accepting his offer.

“Sure. Thank you so much for joining me.”

The walk over is silent, Francis’ bright persona dimming the moment you step away from Neuvillette. Instead, fractals of glacial tension seem to settle over the atmosphere, frosting everything over with a hostile air.

When you reach the beverages, you immediately reach for a cup. However, Francis waves you down.

“Allow me. I insist.” He picks up a cup for you, placing it down in front of the selection of drinks. Before you even have the opportunity to voice your preferences, Francis picks up a bottle, inspecting it thoroughly before unscrewing the lid. “This delightful beverage was produced by my brother. You simply must have a taste.”

For a brief second, Francis obscures your vision of the cup with his back. His hand traces a path to the front pocket of his suit. You know what he’s doing, so you don’t bother attempting to sneak a glance. It’s futile.

As he hands you the drink, you thank him politely. You’re careful not to spill a single drop of the liquid as you make your way back to your seat. When you finally sit down next to Neuvillette again, you continue bantering, each second ticking down and burning away into oblivion. The more time you waste the closer you draw to your goal. People are on their way to test the contents of the spiked beverage at this very moment.

Despite your attempts to simply wait it out, a problem arises when Francis begins to pester you.

“Go ahead,” he urges you. “Try the drink and let me know your opinion. I’m eager to take notes for my brother!”

In response, you shake your head with fervour. Sampling poison is just about the last item on your bucket list. As you continuously refuse, Francis begins to become irritated, his words beginning to crescendo in volume.

Neuvillette’s crystalline lilac gaze begins to grow concerned. Subtle moonbeams glint within his irises, reflecting his worry for your wellbeing. However, his eyes continue to hold an unuttered promise — an oath to ensure that no harm befalls you whatsoever.

That’s what comforts you the most when Francis finally snaps, lunging at you as he jabs a finger into your face. As he begins to speak, his tone is accusatory more than anything.

“You set me up, didn’t you?” he snarls. “The two of you,” Francis glances back at Neuvillette, who’s silently watching the entire exchange. “You’re not drinking the beverage because you knew I’d poisoned it all along.”

“Mister Francis, I would advise you to remain silent,” Neuvillette speaks, his tone authoritative. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in court of law.”

Unfortunately for Francis, he doesn’t take Neuvillette’s advice seriously. Instead, he’s hellbent on exacting his revenge. You begin to realize his philosophy is one that entails dragging others down with him when he pulls out an enchantingly-gorgeous translucent vial from his pocket.

It’s deceptively beautiful, its design making it seem as though it should contain nothing less than the finest divine nectar. However, you know how deadly the contents of the glass tube really are, and as such, a sense of panic begins to overtake your senses, overwhelming your head with countless scenarios where everything goes horrendously wrong.

Every diverging path vanishes into nothingness the moment Neuvillette steps in. A swift burst of aquatic energy fills your vision, and a cascade of pristine dewy droplets of water splatters your face as you close your eyes. When it’s over at long last, you glance around to find that Francis is on the ground, drenched and shivering as Neuvillette bends down to collect the vial he had been carrying.

“This will make for good evidence,” he notes, setting it down on the table alongside the drink.

It doesn’t take long for your backup to arrive after Neuvillette knocks Francis out. In fact, the timing of the poison-testers is a little too serendipitous to be organic. You’re starting to think that Neuvillette had planned to provoke Francis all along, but you don’t find an opportunity to ask before the team confiscates the drink and the vial to run experiments.

A crowd of onlookers has already begun to congregate, amalgamating in a curious frenzy. Everyone thinks they’re slick, but you can clearly see the way their eyes wander over to Francis’ unmoving form on the ground every so often.

“Follow me,” Neuvillette tells you as he takes off after the forensic team. Someone carries the samples of liquid that have yet to be tested, and a few others grab Francis and haul him off with you. You lose yourself in the winding hallways of the venue, each twist and turn serving only to further discombobulate your frazzled mind.

It feels like forever before you finally reach your destination. It’s quite ordinary in comparison to the sumptuous party occurring outside its doors — each wall a stark and blinding snow white and the lighting sterile and plain.

Francis is set down, and the forensic team promptly begins their investigation. As they labour, you turn to Neuvillette.

“Was it really necessary for you to use so much force when stopping him?” you reprimand him. “I’m grateful, I really am, but I think we attracted a little more attention than we needed.”

Upon hearing your words, Neuvillette chuckles. The sound of his laughter is a sonorous tune that you’ve missed hearing, no matter how much you want to deny it. Your heart races involuntarily.

“I was not intent on leaving your fate up to chance,” he says, sincerity weaving itself into every syllable he speaks. “Although keeping our operation a secret would have been ideal, I wasn’t planning to compromise anyone’s safety in exchange — especially not yours.”

Sometimes you resent Neuvillette for saying the most romantic things without realizing it. Every single rose-tinted word is like a shot to the heart, ensnaring your feelings in crimson threads of love. It’s as if you fall deeper and deeper into oceanic clutches, drowning — suffocating — as the weight of emotions hailing from both the past and present overwhelm you.

“We’re finished,” a member of the team chirps.

You feel the tension in your shoulders alleviate as both you and Neuvillette rush over to take in the results of the investigation.

“The two poison samples match the exact substance that was used all those years ago,” the analyst confirms, presenting you with the conclusions drafted on a sheet of paper. “With all the eyewitness evidence and the fact that he personally confessed to having connections to the very factory that prompted this investigation in the first place, it’s safe to say he won’t be seeing the light of day for a while.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief that you’ve been holding in for weeks. Your name has finally been cleared, and the real threat has been eliminated.

Above all else, justice has prevailed once more.

To your surprise, Neuvillette leads you to the grand stage at the forefront of all the festivities the moment you re-enter the main hall. Despite the pandemonium that had become the most prominent spectacle of the banquet earlier, people have resumed their lighthearted conversations and elegant dancing, swaying to and fro as if the alarming exchange between the Chief Justice and Francis had never occurred in the first place.

As people begin to notice the diminuendo in music and Neuvillette’s presence at the anterior of the room, the chatter gradually begins to die down, diminishing in a steady waning of volume. Eventually, silence consumes all, and you’re reminded of the sheer gravity of the Iudex’s aura alone.

“Greetings, esteemed guests.” The hall amplifies Neuvillette’s voice, each booming word reverberating and echoing off the opulent walls. “I stand before you today to announce a joyous cause for commemoration as well as to clarify the cause behind the commotion that some of you may have witnessed earlier.”

Whispers permeate the crowd as gossip and speculation begin to circulate. However, Neuvillette shuts everything down as he continues.

“The person here by my side today is [name],” gasps ring out in the silence, fragmenting every semblance of false tranquility that exists in the moment. “Yes, the very same [name] that was sentenced to life in the Fortress of Meropide due to suspected misdemeanours that resulted in an egregious death.”

Protests spread like wildfire through the rambunctious group of people gathered in front of you. Flames of disapproval threaten to engulf your entire being, stinging you with a rutilant aggression as you try to tune out everything.

“Silence,” Neuvillette commands. Thankfully, it’s enough to get everyone to settle down. “I apologize. For the past few weeks, I have concealed the true nature of the situation from you all. A while ago, I personally received a report detailing the suspicious activities of a company producing drinks as a front. Their more sinister schemes laid behind the scenes, as they produced toxins and other deadly substances away from the watchful eyes of the authorities. The composition of the poison they created was identical to that of the weapon used in [name]’s case. With this new evidence, we decided to reopen the investigation.”

Yet again, a shocked reaction is elicited from the crowd, and you begin to wonder how many times they’ll collectively gasp before the end of Neuvillette’s speech.

“When we looked into things more thoroughly, we discovered that the true culprit was Francis, a member of our very own Marechaussee Phantom. At the moment, he has been detained and is currently awaiting trial.”

Relief propagates amongst the crowd, blossoming in a pure flourish of unadulterated solace. A few people look at you with pity, each starlit glint of their eyes conveying their woe on your behalf.

Neuvillette waits this time, allowing the partygoers to mutter amongst themselves. When they begin to settle, he moves on to more positive news.

“I would like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to listen to my rather mundane explanations,” Neuvillette says. “Now for something more lighthearted.”

He gestures for you to take centre stage, and you reluctantly comply, gazing out at the ocean of people surrounding you.

“[Name] has finally been proven innocent, and as such, they will no longer be required to return to the Fortress of Meropide. This feast has been organized in their honour as a celebration of their return as well as an apology for years spent in isolation.”

Chants of your name begin to flood your ears along with cheers and apologies alike. At long last, you’ve been absolved of the burden wrongfully weighing on your shoulders.

“Welcome back,” Neuvillette whispers to you as he intertwines your fingers to help you off stage. “You’re finally home.”

You hum.

“Thank you.”

No one has the ability to predict the future, and fate’s ordainments are always an enigma to even the most omniscient entities that traverse Teyvat. You have no way of knowing how your relationship with Neuvillette will develop with the passage of time — whether it will mend or fade away as the last spotlight upon the very murder case that brought you back together fizzles out. However, you think you’ll take a chance and revel in his proximity for the time being. He’s proven that he still cares immensely over and over again.

Perhaps with enough patience, your seed of hope will bloom and fill the abyss that had once overtaken your heart, transforming it into a garden of romance reborn.

The weight of Neuvillette’s words begins to settle as you realize that yes, you really are home.

Even after a desolate rain of bitterness and sorrow, the feeling of your hand in his is still home — home sweet home.

thank you so much for reading!! sorry for the long wait riko!

[mangocustard16]

Seventeen's reaction to you not recognising them when drunk ♡

| genre: fluff

| warnings: mentions of drinking, pet names, cursing, lmk if i missed something

| w.c: 0.5k

| a/n: please reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated✿

hhu version | performance unit ver.

S.coups:

he got a call from your friends that you were drunk and rambling about how you missed him and so he came over to get you 

"I'M SUPER SHY, SUPER SHY BUT WAIT A MINU-" you were singing screaming at the top of your lungs

"Babe, come on let's go"

"Who are you, sir?"

the man was too stunned to speak

he tried to regain his composure

"I'm your boyfriend love"

"No, my boyfriend, is cute and adorable" you chirp "But-"

"But what sweetheart?" he asked, slowly guiding you to his car

"But he's always busy," you said yawning, as he buckled your seatbelt

he hums and decides, to take the week off to spend some time with you

Wonwoo:

would be complaining, when he got a call from your friends

but his heart will melt after he sees your clingy state

when he asked you to come home with him but you simply refused

"I'm sorry sir, but I have a boyfriend I love"

he wasn't surprised by your drunken behavior and tried to convince you that he was your boyfriend

"No, my boyfriend is way more handsome and stronger, no offense sir" 

he wasn't sure whether to take your words as an offense or a compliment

when you continued to ramble about how you had the best boyfriend ever and you weren’t planning on changing him or cheating on him

he'd gladly take you home pretending to be your boyfriend's friend

Mingyu:

he's pouting when you can't recognize him referring to him as your designated driver

"Why are you following me to my front door, sir?"

"Umm...these days we are supposed to make sure our passengers get to their homes safely" 

You nod your head, as you try *keyword try* to punch in your house code

he's laughing seeing you struggle and decides to enter the code for you already thinking of an excuse as to how he knows the code

but what he does not expect is you swatting away his hands, saying that he's trying to take advantage of you

"Sir, you're making me feel uncomfortable, please leave or I'll call security," you said, taking out your phone

“Baby you’re so drunk, let me take care of you” he begs

All of a sudden the designated driver is gone here's your boyfriend

"Gyuuuu, you’re here” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him

Vernon:

you had a night out with some friends and your boyfriend was always the person to call when you got hammered 

one look and he knew you weren't sobering up tonight

he would take you into his arms and to his car

"Sir, I have a boyfriend, he is very strong. He will beat your ass if you try anything"

"I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind. And he'd kill me if I didn’t take care of you" he'd say chuckling

"He loves me so much" You would nod agreeing.

Vernon would use this as an opportunity "What about you? Do you love him?"

 "I love him this much" you'd say opening your arms like a small kid to show him how much.

@kflixnet @k-labels

[senseofnewness]

lovesick!patrick zweig because why not

• when he first saw you at the academy, he knew he had to have you, there was something mesmerizing about the way you moved, running off the court with your racket in hand, your tennis skirt fluttering with each stride, revealing the hem of your shorts that barely covered your perky ass

• sure he was a horny boy and the mere sight of the bare skin of your thighs drove him wild, but there was something so irresistibly attractive about your obliviousness to your own beauty, you were simply playing, enjoying yourself, completely unaware of the effect you had on him

• he finally gathered the courage to introduce himself, seizing upon a stray ball as his excuse, you smiled, a radiant beam showcasing your perfect, pearly white teeth and plump glossy lips, his breath hitched, heart skipped a beat, in that moment he not only stuttered saying his own name but envisioned you moaning it in his ear later on tonight

• at first, the attraction was purely physical, your stunning beauty evident in your little tennis dress that embraced your godly proportions, your long, graceful hair tied back in a tight ponytail, your legs moving swiftly across the court, and your hands gripping the racket so tightly that he longed for his cock to replace it soon enough

• he later found out that you were not only the hottest woman he had ever seen, you were also smart, witty, passionate and caring, you made him laugh with every comment you sent his way when you meet him at the water fountain, your little unofficial meeting place

• he began to perform small gestures to show his affection : fetching extra water bottles for you, offering you snacks during breaks, and even staying late to help you practice your serve, you noticed, of course, and you liked the attention

• one evening, as you confided your doubts about going pro, he struggled to offer encouraging words, relating a bit too much, but hoped the soothing sensation of his hand stroking your arm provided the comfort you needed, while it had the opposite effect on him, he was on fire

• he spent hours talking with you after practice, every night, about your lives, dreams, and desires, feeling closer to you than ever, you were now more than just a crush, he adored everything about you, from the way you giggled to the playful slap you gave him when he flirted a bit too openly

• after some pep talk from art, he decided to make his intentions clearer with you, waiting for you to get changed after practice and grabbing your hand to lead you outside to talk, he confessed he liked you, and you simply answered "why", leaving him at a loss for words as there wasn't any real explanation for love

• he pulled you into a long lingering kiss, a kiss so sweet that his heart shattered a little because he knew something so good could not last forever, "i don't have time to date" you told him, "i can wait until you have time" he assured you

• you didn't have time to date, but you always found time to get yourself cornered somewhere, your arms wrapped around patrick's neck and his hands on the small of your back as you kissed passionately

• hands started wandering and soon, it was getting harder to breath for him when your hands were so dangerously close to his length, almost fondling him, he had been a good boy until now but you're tempting him to be bad

• he went to your matches and you went to his, but he found out rather quickly after a match you couldn't attend that your absence was causing him to lose, his mind filled with questions about your whereabouts instead of focusing on the ball and his racket

• while he knew there was nothing official between you two, you had made it clear, why did it break his heart to see you talk with other men? sure, he did see other girls from time to time to take care of the blue balls you gave him, but weren't you the one with no time to date?

• in the midst of the season, you were excelling while he struggled, and he couldn't help but blame it all on you, he confronted you, pleading for a chance to have you, just once, one night, so he could purge you from his system and return to his former self

• "i'm not fucking you patrick" you said, rolling your eyes at him "why not" he asked, nibbling his lower lip "because i know you like me and you will want more" that was probably true "that's not true. and even if it was, what would be so wrong about it?" you both were attracted to each others and consenting adults "we're both about to go on tour! i need to focus" you sighed, "would i distract you?" he asked, pleased, a smirk on his lips "well, yes" you admitted, a boy was the last thing you needed

• he made you promise to revisit the subject after the tour, you agreed but only on the condition that he would win, you knew he needed the motivation but to be quite honest, you weren't so sure he was still capable of it, so you told him that any match won was a step closer to your 'divine' and 'life changing' pussy and he regained his confidence

• the following week, you both left the state, competing in different tournaments, but kept track of each other’s achievements, true to your promise, you sent him nude pictures after each victory, it began with just your breasts, and now he had a full view of your cunt

• he had looked at the pictures so often that he could swear they were burned into the inside of his eyelids, his post-match routine had turned into an endless session of masturbation, all thanks to your pictures

• thoughts of you lingered in his mind daily, coloring every moment with excitement, when he saw you on tv, his pulse quickened, and a smile effortlessly found its place on his lips, but then he remembered that you were still not his and it was breaking him

• and then he was in town at the same time as you and you gave in, it had been so long and tour was lonely, he was some warm comfort and you missed him, kinda, he knew it, so he gave you his all to prove to you that he was the one for you, the perfect guy to fulfill your needs

• he never felt that before with any girl, with your legs resting on his shoulders while he was ramming into you like a maniac, it all made sense, he felt like he was finally complete, like it was always meant to be, and it felt so good, you came, he came and so it happened again, and again, and again, and again

• he suddenly stopped fucking other girls, he wanted you to know he was serious about you, ready to settle down, get married and have kids, but the truth was that no one would ever be able to make his eyes roll back into his head and his thighs tremble like you did when you rode him

• he didn't want to play anymore, literally and figuratively, so he slowly stopped qualifying for tournaments to focus on you, to come watch your matches, he was always there, making sure you were stretched and hydrated, and he always cheered for you the loudest

• before competitions, you were always so tense and he found out that eating your cunt helped with that, he made it his life mission to make you the most relaxed girl on earth, he spent hours sucking on your clit, and you were, without a doubt, the most delicious meal he ever had

• when you lost matches, he also made sure to be there for you, holding you tight, cuddling you in bed, reassuring you that you were the best player in the world, and he was right, you were, you played with his heart like nobody else, but in those moments, he was pretty sure that he was madly in love with you and you would fall for him too

• he told you, you laughed it off, he told you again, what did he know about love? all you knew was that he was the guy who never grew up and was throwing his career away for a stupid teenage obsession

• you were eating lunch when you asked him "tennis is what you want, right?" he nodded, but the truth was that you were the only thing he truly desired, tennis seemed dull next to you. "you need to focus, you're playing like shit" you tried to be harsh to wake him up but he already knew that, but he could not do anything about it, it was your fault

• all he could do was thinking about you, enjoying the few moments he got to be with you when you were in town, he couldn't even afford to fly over to see you anymore, so he waited for you to come back, and he made sure to fall asleep inside of you each time, that way you would not leave in the middle of the night without saying goodbye

• he was not even a tennis player anymore, he barely played while you spent your time out of state or out of the country winning, sexting with patrick had lost its savour, it used to be exciting but now it just felt like it was holding you back, you were meeting new people and he was still the guy who followed you around like a puppy when you were 20

• years passed and getting back into tennis was hard for patrick, his body was rusty and he lacked motivation, you were not here to coach him to be better anymore, he had not seen you in years, plus, the fact that you had met someone, a tennis player, the kind who wins competitions, not a loser like him, was not helping, so what was the point in trying? he simply didn't know what else to do

• you went on with your life, he watched your radiant smile dazzle him from the TV screen as you held the trophy, a ring on your finger, a bittersweet ache filled him, a reminder of what might have been but never had been

• he mourned the love that slipped through his fingers, much like his career appeared to fade with each passing match, yet, amidst it all, he found a flicker of solace in knowing that you were happy, despite the fact that you should have been happy with him

[taro-bae]

AHH Your work on a figure skater reader was so beautiful and well-written! I went to watch a circus show recently, and the trapeze act was stunning, so could I request the same Twisted Wonderland in your figure skating post with a reader who is really good at trapeze acts, but doesn’t work at a circus? Thank you so much, and at the time of requesting this, your forehead kisses post just went up, and I would also like to say that it was so good too! Thank you again! 🫶

I absolutely love this request!

I'll add Floyd to this one, he's such a menace to society.

TrapezeArtist!Reader x TWST

Summary: They find out reader is good at trapeze acts but isn't part of a troup.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Floyd Leech, Vil Schoenheit

Notes: gender neutral, set in readers room with ariel trapeze equipment, I adapted some scenarios to other ariel acts (Lyra for Vils), no warnings

Riddle────

Housewarden Riddle was checking over Heartslabyul making sure everything is to standards and rules. After his duties he decided to see how you're doing. He makes his way to your dorm his heels clicking against the ground. When he arrives at your dorm bedroom he knocks on the door wondering if you're there right now. He hears sounds coming from inside the room and some light music playing in the background. He opens the door carefully, "y/n, I-", he cuts himself off when he sees you hanging on a longish bar that's supported by two ropes that are attached to the ceiling of your room.

He's speechless watching you perform a flexible hold while you're high off the floor. He's never seen anything like it before, he knew there are people who do such things but he's never seen it in person (take him to the circus). He watches you as you hold onto the bar with your knees, while your body is hanging off in an arch. You swiftly change your grip back to your arms and come down. He stays silent for a solid minute, he takes notice that the clothes you are wearing currently show alot of skin, obviously to help grip the bar and not slip but nevertheless.

"Are you sure that's safe?", he's concerned for your safety considering you are doing this in a normal room with noone to spot. You ensure him you are trained and know what you are doing, as well as the steady condition of your equipment. He glances over the bar and the other alternative equipment you have, it's clear you are well trained. "So are you part of a circus crew perhaps?" He asks out of curiosity. He is suprised to hear that your are not and you do this as a hobby. He can understand the fitness side of it to maintain good strength and health but why do something so risky just for a hobby.

He hears your explanation that you simply enjoy doing it and that you're confident in your abilities, also that it gives you a sense of thrill and adrenaline. He supports of your trapeze skills but can't help but worry over your safety.

"Could you explain how that...hold...works?" He wants to understand your interests better and is fascinated his eyes sparkling slightly like a kid in a candy store.

Take this boy to a circus he needs to experience some joy in his life!

Azul────

Azul enters your dorm room wanting to share some new deal offer ideas with you. He pauses when he sees you on the trapeze bars swinging to press yourself up into a static pose later. His reaction is confusion.

He is constantly impressed by the possibilities of the human body, the strength and flexitime you have to move your body in such ways let alone off the floor on a suspended bar. He stands at the door holding the handle watching you with his mouth agape trying to blabber out some form of a sentence. He's rather flustered seeing your flexibility and how you carry yourself with incredible control. "You're even more incredible than I gave you credit for" He stutters out.

Regaining his composure he interrogates you on your practice and training background. He is already scheming plans for you on how you can profit off this. He offers you an opportunity to perform at Mostro Lounge, "not only can you demonstrate your talent, but it will bring in more customers", he wants to show you off while also help advertise his totally not shady business too.

He is going on a rant about the perks and benefits this would bring while also complimenting your abilities his mouth running faster than his heart beat as he pushes his glasses up to his eyes. You sit on the bar listening to his ramble, weather you agree or not is up to you (do it, he wants to watch you do that everyday for the rest of his life)

Floyd

Two words - Good Luck

Floyd bursts through your door exclaiming a loud "shrimpyyyyy~", atleast he didn't kick your door open this time. You are mid way through a skill when he comes in slightly startling you you manage to keep yourself steady despite the small scare at the sudden intrusion. Floyd's grin only grows as his eyes widen seeing the bar and ropes set up. "Little shrimpy! You're a little monkey now, huh" he comes closer his tall stature meeting your eyeline.

He does not care if you're on a bar right now, he comes closer giving you a tight squeeze. "I missed you shrimpy~" He lifts you up hugging you very, very tightly, "Are you like a circus monkey~" he laughs as he teases you. He's interested when you tell him you don't belong to a circus group and just do this for yourself.

Before you can finish, his eyes look at the bar mischievously "I wanna try!" He moves you out of the way gripping onto the bar swinging around trying to climb it. "This is fun!" He's shining on it like a child while you're trying to warn him to get down before he hurts himself. His response is "You're no fun~", pouting at you.

He gets bored eventually getting down, but beware now that he knows you have trapeze bars in your room he's going to visit more often. He really likes this about you he is intrigued by the way you move and perform those tricks, he is definitely bragging to Azul and Jade about this.

Vil

He's very knowledgeable about performance arts and finding out you are a trapeze artist piqued his interest.

He walks in on you suspended off the floor in your room as you hold onto a hoop performing a transition into a horizontal split. He admires your flexibility and endurance, and the fact you are doing this without any cables. He trusts your skills and capabilities in maintaining your safety. He observes you silently his hand near his chin, he admires your form and the shapes you create with your body and the hoop.

"Splendid, dear." He speaks up. "The way you hold yourself is beautiful". He takes in your outfit, the tight clothing that highlights your body shape and the showing skin near you arms, legs and back that helps you hold on the hoop.

He questions weather you're part of a studio or a circus crew, when he finds out you're not he does offer promoting your skills. He sees so much potential in you, wanting you to improve. Being the influential celebrity he could help you make a name for yourself if you are willing.

Vil is interested in seeing what else you can do, asking about the pose names and how they are performed, appreciating the aesthetic lines you body creates complimentary to the hoop. If you do something like a back balance he does get a little nervous concerned over your safety but trusts that you are well trained and won't fall.

"You don't stop surprising me, do you?" He smiles genuinely feeling pride and admiration for you.

♡♡♡

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

[ravenna-reid]

Black Vixen & Ballet

Jason Todd x Ex-Ballerina Vigilante Reader

Another ballet show held in the heart of Gotham City. The opulent building was filled with the rich and conceited with their glistening jewels, glasses of alcohol and expensive clothing. You stood on the balcony that looked over the entrance and small bar that sat outside the theatre, silently judging and observing them all. Soon, all of the aristocrats that were here drinking and gossiping would file into the theatre and watch the Swan Lake, and pretend that they weren't some of the worst and most corrupt people in Gotham.

Hair cascading down your back and your fitted, satin dress the colour of the midnight sky trailing behind you, you simply held onto your untouched wine glass and watched. Someone's hand suddenly slipped between yours and your glass, smoothly taking it from your hold. Turning to see who was asking for your attention, you just managed to hide your surprised expression. That cologne, those eyes, you recognised it all instantly.

"Mm," He hummed, looking down at your nails as he took a sip from your glass. Claws is what the thugs on the streets were calling them, and it made you laugh. Black, slick and sharp, they were both pretty and lethal. Just like you. "I'd notice those nails anywhere."

His eyes flickered up to look at you, his dark raven hair hanging before them, still a little damp from his shower. He wore an impeccable suit, but it did little to hide how muscular he was.

"You're not still holding a grudge against me, are you?" You asked softly, a smirk on your lips as you took your glass back.

He cocked his head to the side, a disapproving glint passing through those ocean blue eyes.

"You scared me, what was I to do?" You reasoned, pretending to be upset and wearing your best, fake saddened expression. Jason moved behind you until he was at your other side, looking down at the bustling audience below.

"So is that what you do?" He began, "Hit first and ask questions later?"

"I guess I've been hanging around you for too long." You smiled, and he failed to suppress his own smile. Your eyes trailed down his tie to where his stomach was, and you could imagine the claw marks you had accidentally left behind.

"I did apologise." You replied, voice smooth like wine. It did something to Jason. Made him both love sick and feral. Weak at the knees and desperate.

Yes, you had apologised. You remembered that night and how he hesitantly closed the space between the both of you. How you had held your hand over the scratch marks to try and ease the pain. The look in his eyes and the thrumming in your chest. The cool breeze. The dark alley way with its broken streetlights. You had quietly explained to him what you were doing, and he gave you a curt warning to stay safe. Then he had pulled his hood back over his head and disappeared as quickly as he came.

Glasses clinking and fake laughter rippled through out the warmly lit room. He leant down on the railing and you couldn't help but take note of how close the two of you were. Just centimetres away from arms brushing against each other. So close yet so far away.

"Reminiscing?" He asked looking over at you, voice like whiskey on ice. You forgot that he knew you were once the foremost ballerina in Gotham. The night that changed it all being the night you performed as the Black Swan. Strong, elegant, skilled and striking. You were a dazzling star. Your hair was in a slicked back bun, make-up beautiful and fierce, adorned in black lace. He once mentioned how he had been there that night, much to your surprise, leaving out that he'd been forced to go by Bruce and Dick for socialising reasons. He thought you were the most stunning girl he'd seen, but soon realised you were too good for him.

You hummed in response, and he wondered how you went from an esteemed Ballerina to a feared Vigilante. From the Black Swan to being called the Black Vixen. You suddenly turned, leaning your back on the cool, gilded railing and turning to him. He watched as your silky hair moved against your shoulder. He swallowed hard, the intense fluttering continuing in his chest.

"If you're here for Dickinson..." you began, gliding closer towards him so no one else could hear you, "You better be smart about it. His thugs are everywhere."

His head instinctively moved closer to yours. How did you know about Dickinson? How did you know that was Jason's latest target? "What do you know?"

"Not enough." Your perfume flooded his senses, his eyes trailing from the end of your black dress back up to your eyes.

"You're here on a mission?"

Turning from him, you shrugged.

"Are you armed?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Without meaning to, he grabbed hold of your arm. His grip gentle yet demanding. "Listen, you can't mess with these guys-"

You fiercely turned to face him again. "Don't you think I know that?"

You were both back in that alley way, looking at each other like you'd die for each other. So much longing. So much yearning.

"Jason!" Your eyes turned to another boy, hair dark and eyes bright like his, as he made his way over. Jason. It was nice to finally put a name to the face. The boy gave you a large smile before focusing on Jason with a sly smirk. "Well, who is this?"

Jason let go of your arm as he turned to his brother and cursed his timing under his breath. "She's a...a friend. She used to be a ballerina." Jason turned back to face you, but found an empty space instead.

"Huh," Dick chuckled. "Looks like she needed an excuse to quickly ditch you. Glad I could help her out." His laugh rang in Jason's ears, his arm falling around Jason's shoulders in a joking manner.

Jason shot his brother a cold look before searching the area for you. But you were no where to be found.

"Black Vixen...what are you up to?"

[tommydarlings]

PATREON - bad spotlight | c.l

pairing: dom!charles leclerc x reporter!sub!reader

warnings: smut, covering mouth, marking somebody up, chocking

w/c: 0.4k [full work 2.3k]

summary: Putting the infamous charles leclerc purposely in a bad spotlight for your entertainment was a fun idea, or was it?

Being a reporter for formula one was always on your bucket list, but what task wasn’t on your bucket list, was hooking up with the Ferrari driver Charles leclerc.

You knew that it was bad, being a rather well known journalist in the paddock and then you’re casually hooking up with the so called 'prince of Monaco‘, the 'il predestinado' — a really bold move of yours.

But you simply couldn’t resist him, you couldn’t stay away from each other, neither your tempting body’s, nor your lustful gazes, it was like you were both in a trance as soon as you were around each other and it was dangerous.

You were currently interviewing Lewis, asking him some questions about the Brazil GP while Charles arrived next to you with his manager, waiting for you to interview him next,

“And now we’re gonna hear Ferrari driver charles leclerc's opinion on the race! Charles, not really one of your strongest performances, am I right?“ you asked as you turned towards him and put the microphone in front of his mouth.

Charles was a bit stunned, you were usually extra sweet and kind with your questions and comments towards him but apparently not this time.

“Uhm, yeah it was really not my strongest performance today but it happened and I can’t change it now and I’m just gonna try my best to put my focus on the next race and prepare myself properly for it,“ he shrugged as he looked into your eyes.

You nodded along, staring right back at him, “would you say you tried your best today and delivered all you could possibly deliver for the team?“ you asked with a hint of sass that only Charles was able to make out.

He raised his brows, a tiny but smug smirk on his face, one that didn’t go unnoticed by you since you knew him too well already, “well I’m sure that the team isn’t really pleased with my performance, I mean that’s no secret, but I bet that they’ll just tell me what I’ve already told you, to just focus on the upcoming race,“ he nodded along his words.

You smiled one last time at him, “thank you, Charles,“ you mumbled before you quickly went to the next drive, who was lando.

And Charles only clenched his jaw in an angry manner as he realised how smiley and sweetly you talked with his rival, even laughing and joking around with him a bit.

And that was the first moment Charles realised that you’re doing this on purpose.

CONTINUE READING ON MY PATREON! -> 2.3k

[koqabear]

Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

 “The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was. 

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy. 

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse. 

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together. 

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands. 

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life. 

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks. 

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough. 

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it. 

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you. 

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly. 

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word. 

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss. 

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—” 

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin. 

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out. 

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer. 

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right. 

⤬⤬⤬ 

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind. 

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show. 

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours—  and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him. 

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead. 

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long. 

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door. 

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight. 

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready. 

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit. 

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely. 

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it. 

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet. 

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand. 

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area. 

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai. 

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly. 

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you. 

He freezes entirely. 

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage. 

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side. 

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you. 

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling. 

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…” 

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return. 

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind. 

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it. 

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation. 

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase…. 

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you. 

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again. 

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you. 

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was. 

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by. 

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking. 

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

[wordy-little-witch]

Okay but One Piece being in the pirate era and the lack of a frankly inordinate amount of sea shanties hurts me. Like you know DAMN well Roger was a partier, Buggy and Shanks undoubtedly know an incredible amount of shanties, from their first crews, from the new crews, from exploring and seeing and experiencing the world so thoroughly from such a young age.

Shanks would be the type to belt them, top of his lungs, but always adhere to the Codes, though he does think on it for a moment. People think he'd be a pirate head to toe, through and through, and he is! Truly, he is. He just doesn't really live by the Code and die by the Code the way some of the older generation does.

Buggy, despite popular belief, is the one to cling to those Codes with all he has. It's subtle, in the way he hums certain songs to himself but never sings the full lyrics without Meaning. He will sing and dance and party with his crew, they will make merry but they will do so properly. He's avant garde and nouveau expressionism but he's also old fashioned.

When he finds out Shanks taught this scrawny rubber twink everything the kid knows about piracy through sporadic meetings over a year, nearing a decade ago, he is absolutely livid. The swordsman is stupid but has a decent head on his shoulders for behavior. The redhead, from what he sees, knows more than most. He decides to put class in session.

He's surprised to be beaten so thoroughly and then furthermore to be removed succinctly. He's not gonna let it slide, obviously, but he'll play along. Sure. Could be fun. He was getting bored anyway.

Shit just so happens to hit the fan with this decision and all that follow. Shanks, knowing the truth of things, is simply VERY amused and Buggy is debating fratricide.

He's been playing this role for so long, it feels unnatural to drop it. It feels wrong. It makes him panic, makes him Itch.

It only comes to a head years later as he's humming to himself late in the evening on a certain day in September, having spent a good chunk of the day on his own, away from company and to the surprise of very few. Crocodile and Mihawk are among those who do not know why, but they alone are the ones to look for him.

Finding Buggy, singing softly to an animal as he gently brushes out their fur, surrounded by calm animals who seem to nearly build a wall with their bodies between himself and the world, was not anticipated to either men. Nor was hearing Buggy's voice, usually so shrill and rasped, flow gently over a melody with a grief filled expression. Ritchie, among the ones closest, gently head butted the clown with soulful eyes. Mihawk and Crocodile simply watch, seeing Buggy groom and pamper the creatures within the stables this far from town as he sings a specific sequence of songs.

Mihawk realizes first just what they're witnessing, and he grips the logia user's arm, guiding them both back. Crocodile, startled, goes to ask, and Hawkeyes simply shakes his head sharply. It is only once they are far enough that Mihawk breaths a stunned, "He's performing Rites."

"What?"

"Rites," the swordsman reiterates, sending the other a suspicious look. "The Rites of the Code."

The mafioso takes a drag from his cigar, gesturing for the other to go on.

Mihawk sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I forget," he remarks dryly, "how uneducated in ours ways you are."

"Excuse me-?!"

"Rites," the other interrupts, "are a form of mourning. Frequency varies, and the honoring actions can be altered as well. The constant component are the shanties sung in remembrance and the flags flown. For some, a single instance can be sufficient..." Golden eyes drift to the side, unfocused, as he continues. "For others, there is a need to continue doing so. Often, it is a crew mourning a commanding officer. Unlike Marines, Pirates all share an unspoken connection. Though paths may vary and goals may differ, we all care Her in our veins."

Violet eyes love to the expanse of blue, the horizon bleeding across the world. He knew. He may lack some of the nuance of the Code from his priorities laying further inland, but he knew this. How could he not when his own blood sang salted sprays? He knew this much at the very least.

"So the clown is in mourning."

"Yes."

".... why?"

"...... ....... it is September."

"And?"

"The 28th."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You were there, too, 25 years ago. Loguetown."

Silence falls.

The wind rustles branches overhead. It carries the faintest wisps of a voice. The two men pointedly ignore it and the choked quality it had.

".... I see."

"..... yes. That is my theory, at any rate."

"............. Hawkeye."

"What?"

"He was on the King's crew."

"Yes, this has been established."

"Why?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Why him? Why the clown? He's not even 40 yet, so that day... he'd have been, what, 15, at the most? He'd have been on the crew for years by that point. He was there before the man was crowned, after all."

"Shanks was, as well. I believe the earliest mention was when he mentioned an incident from their childhood. He'd said they were... oh, what was it? Seven? Thereabouts. To be on a crew so young..."

"To be there so long, Hawkeye. The brat would have been with them since childhood. That crew was infamous for the things they did - the clown does not fit the pattern."

"He does not boast anything nearing the decorum expected of a fledgling of a King..."

"He knows the Codes, something never mentioned to us nor taught explicitly to his crew that we know of. He served under the King and kept it hidden from the world government for decades. He escaped the Grandline and settled as an East Blue nuisance for years. He was imprisoned in Impel Down with no sea stone."

Golden eyes widen. "You believe he has been hiding more than simply his heritage."

"What makes more sense? This, or what we have thought so far."

"How would we confirm it?"

"Just ask me, maybe?"

Neither man will admit to being startled when a new voice chimes in, soft and hoarse, drowsy. Buggy leans into Ritchie's side as the lion purrs loudly, the clown rubbing his eye.

He continues. "Tomorrow, though. It's late, I'm not feeling well, and Ritch and I have a date with my blanket nest."

"The lion?" / "Blanket nest?"

Buggy giggles softly. "Weighted blankets are expensive. Weighted Ritchies only cost snacks and chin scritches," he remarks softly. "As for the blankets, nests are the way to go. Good night."

Two dark haired men are left by a drowsy clown and lion in the woods on the edge of town with much to thing on and a list to compile for the next day.

The first question? How Mihawk had not sensed him whatsoever on approach.

[ultram0th]

James Ellis walked into the locker room, his blue tank top drenched with sweat from his rigorous workout. He wiped at his brow and went to his locker so that he could change out of his sweaty clothes and rinse off.

“Hey James,” one of his fellow gym goers, Adam, greeted the 40 year old fitness influencer. He was also changing out of his sweaty gym clothes, done with his workout for the day.

The older man just nodded in his direction, not too keen on being in the locker room with Adam at the same time. Adam was a nice guy, and James had no issue at all with gay people, but he didn’t like the lustful stares that the younger man would give him every so often. His hungry eyes would always find a way to travel up and down the stud’s chiseled chest or seek out his toned butt whenever he’d perform squats. Still, wanting to wash off the musky odor from his body, James wrapped his towel tightly around his waist before shucking his shorts and underwear.

James worked out and he even took pictures of his fit body to inspire others to follow his regimen, but he didn’t work out to have other men ogle him like he was a piece of meat. He hurried over to the shower room, oblivious to Adam’s devious smirk.

The shower room was one of the older, military-style ones where it was just an open room with the shower heads lining the walls. Three other men where already in there when James arrived, each one facing his respective shower head so as to offer the illusion of privacy.

James placed his towel on the rack and walked nude over to one of the shower heads and twisted it, releasing the spray of hot water that felt good on his smooth skin. He went about washing himself, following the unspoken rule of facing his own shower head. However, he bit down on the inside of his cheek in irritation when the shower head literally right next to him turned on, and he didn’t need to look over to know who it was.

Adam began to wash himself next to the fitness influencer, not even being stealth about sneaking a glance here and there, his smirk plastered onto his face. “Showtime,” he whispered.

“What?” James almost barked, incredibly aggravated that the guy would choose to shower right next to him. He shook it off and started to lather up his toned muscles with his body wash, the suds clinging to every contour of his shredded body.

There was a slight pressure in his groin, and the older man cocked his eyebrow as he looked down at himself. He suppressed a gasp so as not to bring attention to him and his hardening cock. For seemingly no reason at all, James was stunned to watch his cock inflate to its full seven and a half inches, sticking straight out in front of him as he showered in a room with other men. His hard cock bobbed in front of him and his first instinct was to immediately cover himself.

But he couldn’t do it.

James turned red with a mixture of embarrassment and horror over the fact that no matter how much he mentally told his hands to shield his erect member from view, they simply continued to lather up his muscles with soap. He strained and grit his teeth as he tried to push through whatever odd paralysis he was experiencing.

The horrified man felt his lips part and his heart fell when he let out a low moan. “Ooohhh,” he moaned, his deep voice echoing out in the tiled room.

He saw from his peripherals that Adam was now full on watching him, and for some reason, that knowledge made his heart speed up excitedly.

The older stud winced internally as he felt his body turn around on its own accord, making him face outwards and present his erect cock to the rest of the room. His beefy hands began to stroke his sudsy chest, slowly feeling up each curvature of his muscles.

“Ooohhh yeah,” he moaned again, louder this time.

The the other men in the shower, confused as to what was happening, each turned around. One of them looked weirded out and left, disgust written all over his face. However, the remaining two only nodded in approval and hungrily watched as an erect James couldn’t stop running his hands all over his soapy chest.

James was screaming inside of his mind, especially when his fingers started to pinch and tug on his nipples. The action sent jolts of electricity straight to his hard cock, making it twitch wildly as he moaned loudly, unable to stop himself. He had no idea why this was happening, but based on the hungry stares of Adam and the other men, he knew that it was definitely a sight to see.

The mortified man felt himself turn back around, but his relief was short-lived when he started to thrust his bubblebutt outwards, trying to seductively present it to the small crowd. He felt his hips wiggle as he bounced his cheeks for the cheering men, screaming the whole time in the inside, but all that came out of his mouth were the lustful moans.

“Finger yourself!” one of the one grunted.

No! No! James pleaded with himself, especially when his head turned and he winked playfully at the men.

With a smack, both of James’s hands slapped down onto his large cheeks. He kneaded them, his fingers sinking into the abundant flesh before spreading them apart to show off his tight hole to the room. The older man was convinced that his humiliation couldn’t get any worse, but then, without any warning whatsoever, one of his thick fingers shoved itself inside his hole.

“OOooooOOHhh!” James squealed wildly with pleasure. He pressed his face against the tiled wall as his knees grew weak simply from playing with his ass. After a little bit of time, the horrified man shoved in another finger, and another, pumping them in and out.

James’s pleas with himself to stop were halted as his ass brought him immense waves of pleasure. The older man had never had anything shoved up his ass before, but now his hole was bringing him pleasure unlike anything he’d ever felt before in his entire 40 years. His moans were ringing out in the shower and they were so loud that he was certain people on the gym floor could hear him— but he didn’t care at the moment. His cock was twitching like crazy and his free hand found its way back to his nipples, roughly tugging on them.

The dual sensations of having his ass played with and his chest worked left the stunned man a moaning mess of hormones. Pleasure waves suffocated him and his humiliation was momentarily forgotten when he spasmed, shooting loads of cum all over the tiled wall in from of him from his untouched cock.

The men cheered as James came before returning to washing themselves, acting almost as if nothing had happened.

It took James a good minute to recover from blowing the biggest load of his life, his muscles still twitching with orgasmic power. He rubbed at his face, not quite grasping the concept that he was in control of his body again. He was so confused as what the fuck had just happened to him. He’d been showering and then all of a sudden, he’d had absolutely no control over his actions and he’d came from just fingering himself. His face was bright red with humiliation over his actions… and shame over how much he’d liked it. His ass still tingled with want, and it took all of his self control to not shove a few fingers up there again.

“Thanks for the show, James,” Adam said as he clapped the silent man on the shoulder. “I can’t wait for tomorrow’s.”

James felt his stomach drop at the thought of replaying what had just happened. The blood drained from his face as he envisioned himself pleasuring himself in front of men again, fingering his hole while tugging on his nipples like some depraved freak. 

Worse was that James could feel a stirring in his cock at the thought, a small part of himself looking forward to it.

[gayf1hoe]

Sleep is of the Essence

Request - Y/N is a driver for Aston Martin and he just falls asleep in random places. Like between races and red flags and even interviews. He also falls asleep on max a lot. People are confused how he is a really good driver because all he does is sleep.

It's a typical race day, and by that, I mean Max is being forced to wake Y/N up from another one of his “I just closed my eyes” naps. Despite racing for two different teams, Max often has to make the voyage from Red Bull to Aston Martin to wake up his boyfriend because the guys at Aston Martin are undeniably scared of waking him.

It's like waking a monster; he gets incredibly pissed off if his sleeping session is abruptly interrupted by anything other than a life-or-death matter. But Y/N's incredible and unparalleled performance on track makes up for his rather sharp attitude after being woken up, so the team has learned to accept his flaw outside the car for his amazing talent in the car.

When he was asked to replace the outgoing Fernando Alonso, no one thought he could replace the Spaniard. But to their surprise, he was extraordinary behind the wheel—so much so he would teach his seasoned professional teammate, Lance Stroll, a thing or two. Of course, Lance didn't like taking advice from a junior driver, but he accepted it, wanting to do just as well.

On one occasion, in the middle of the Singapore Grand Prix, Y/N was trailing behind his boyfriend in P2 when the red flag was brought out because Ocon and Gasly had taken each other out of the race. After checking that all parties involved were fine, he had one thought on his mind: sleep. The interval between red flags and the restart can differ depending on the severity of the collision, but Y/N worked out that he could get at least 25 minutes of quiet rest. The only problem was he had to find a quiet place near the car.

He couldn't stay in the car as the temperatures were incredibly high, almost suffocating the drivers, so he decided to line up some of the pit crew's chairs and lie across them. It was unconventional and in no way looked comfortable, but as long as Y/N had a place to lay his head, he didn't care where it was. Most drivers were talking with their teams about changing the strategy, but Y/N had faith in Aston Martin and their ability to know what they are doing; after all, they are one of the top teams. But then again, so is Ferrari, and we don't need to talk about their strategy.

Once again, the job of waking him up was delegated to Max, so 8 minutes before the restart, an Aston Martin mechanic was seen frantically running down the pit lane to borrow Max. By this point, Christian and Max’s engineer, GP, were used to this routine, so they didn't really care all that much. Max walked into the garage, sticking out like a sore thumb wearing the dark blue Red Bull race suit amongst the sea of Emerald Green suits worn by the mechanics in the garage.

He gently ran his hand across the side of Y/N’s face so as not to startle him when waking him. Y/N stirred quietly and was about to go on a tirade of cuss words at whoever woke him, but when he realised it was Max, he simply let out a slight smile and rose from the chairs with one of the worst cases of bed hair after a 15-minute nap. But he was going to be wearing a balaclava and a helmet soon, so it didn't really matter what his hair looked like. Many would argue that after just waking up, Y/N wouldn't be prepared for the testing nature of the Singaporean track. But in the end, he overtook Max in a risky yet stunning manoeuvre on the last lap for the victory in one of Formula 1’s most physically and mentally testing tracks.

During the Canadian Grand Prix Free Practice, Y/N had to be wheeled into the garage to make numerous setting changes, and instead of getting out of the car, he decided to stay in it. It was much warmer as the engine acted as a heater, and as it was cold and raining as usual in Canada, he decided to just stay put. But the warmth was too comforting, and the engineers were taking their time making the changes, so he ended up falling asleep.

“Y/N, we are ready to go back out.”

“Y/N, radio check.”

“Y/N, hello?”

In the end, one of the engineers lifted up the visor of the young driver and used one of the brake fans to abruptly wake him. It worked, but at the cost of the driver cussing out the entire garage before going out and being top of the timing sheet for FP1. The team still question how he did it, but they don't really care.

On another occasion, during the British Grand Prix press conference after the race, it had taken the interviewer some time to get round to Y/N, and after a hard-fought 70 laps, the young driver had fallen asleep in his chair. But rather than wake him, Danny Ric and Max asked the interviewer for a sharpie and proceeded to draw over Y/N's eyebrows and give him an Italian-style moustache. It wasn't until he got to passport control in Heathrow Airport that he realised what the two had done to him. He then proceeded to shout, “I'm going to murder you two,” which he learned wasn't the best thing to shout around airport security in one of Britain's main airports.

But after an hour in detention, he was finally let go and proceeded to change his seat to sit as far away from Max and Danny as possible. And after about 3 or 4 weeks of endless apologising, he eventually accepted their apology. But that doesn't change the fact Y/N had to stand on the top step of the podium in Hungary and shake the country's leader with a ridiculous moustache and eyebrows. No matter how much he tried to get rid of the sharpie, it didn't seem to come off.

It's often asked how this man is one of the top drivers in motorsports, and well, it's simple—much like a lot of the other drivers, he just has a natural talent that enables him to excel in any type of car.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write Jason x daughter of Apollo reader who’s always overworking herself at the infirmary

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when the skies are gray"

author's note: I intended it to be full fluffy but I made it hurt comfort instead, I hope you don't mind <3

Jason hadn't seen you in days…. recently the infirmary was packed with patients, Jason literally being one of the dozens. The apollo healers were at their peak of pressure. You were performing stitches while the others were performing surgeries. After all the chaotic rush cooled down a little, you told Will to take some rest, while you checked off the list of patients that were admitted in your notepad.

That was when Jason stepped inside the infirmary, you didn't even notice until jason vigorously back hugged you.

“What?” You snapped, you were exhausted and didn't really want to see anyone at the moment, not even your boyfriend. Jason pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers, smiling brightly while giving them to you. What a sweetheart.

Unfortunately, you had too much coffee and that made you cranky.

“thanks. Put them in the vase.” You said, not taking your eyes off of your notepad while aloofly gesturing to the empty vase on your desk.

You felt Jason frown genuinely. He put the flowers inside the vase as you asked him too, which you did albeit a little coldly. But he knew you were stressed out, so he didn't think much of it. He put a hand on your shoulder gently and moved closer to whisper in your ear.

“sunshine, don't you think you should be taking a break? You look exhausted and you didn't show up to dinner yesterday, have you even eaten? Be honest please” he asked in concern

You always loved Jason's worried mom behavior because you thought it was endearing, but today, the pressure levels of the past few days, witnessing your siblings in distress because they failed to save one patient, watching fellow campers in physical pain, just got too much, that you snapped.

“I am FINE Jason! Just because I didn't show up yesterday does not mean I didn't eat. Have you considered the possibility that I had food sent to me over here in the infirmary? Gosh.. can't you see I'm busy? Why are you so overbearing? Leave me alone, please.” you regretted your words the moment they spilled out. Jason looked like a kicked puppy, as a flash of hurt went through his eyes. But they disappeared almost immediately as his eyes were replaced with steely coldness.

“I was just checking on you, babe. because I was worried.....tell me how many of your friends have actually come in to see how you were, the past week?” He asked, with a dangerously calm and steady voice, staring at you deeply while making a very fair point. That's what happens when you were raised in the most unemotional camp ever. You switch back to your old ways.

You looked at him a little stunned, and were unable to respond to his question. Because you had no answer. Nobody apart from your siblings had come to check on you, up until Jason arrived.

“Exactly. So if you think that me caring about my girlfriend’s health and being worried about her is “overbearing” then fine. If you continue to push me away when I clearly mean well, then so be it. I hope you like the flowers, and please, for the love of god, get some rest. We'll talk when you're feeling less mad” he added.

But this time, you could've sworn that his voice was shaky and that broke you. You had never said mean stuff to him like this before, and this time, it had clearly affected him. He had done nothing but be sweet to you. Even now, he was talking you calmly without telling at your outburst.

You watched miserably as Jason walked out of the infirmary. Tears slipped out of your eyes as you reached your breaking point of the week. You had officially pushed away the one person who loves you more than anything. Simply because you were stubborn to hear him out.

It was currently 1:00 AM, and you finally collected yourself to go apologize to Jason. You needed to fix what you broke before it was too late. You found yourself staring at the flowers he'd oh so happily given you before you ruined his mood.

You tentatively stepped into his cabin, trying to make as less noise as possible. You couldn't wait until morning for this, you missed him to death. Jason was sleeping quietly, he was never the one for snoring, he wasn't a deep sleeper either, so every time you had even accidentally brushed against him, he'd wake up with a jolt.

You gently got into his bed, and wrapped your arms around him from behind while burying your face into his hair. This time though, he didn't wake up with an alert jolt. Instead, he took your hands and tightened your grip around himself.

“You're awake?” You whispered to him curiously.

“Well, what do you think?” Jason whispered back, the smile in his voice evident. He turned around to face you, and you held his cheeks with both your hands, softly stroking them. He was staring at you, this time, any trace of coldness had vanished. You took a few seconds to admire his gorgeous eyes before you spoke.

“Jason… I'm sorry… I didn't mean anything I said. I really didn't.. I was just feeling cranky about how shitty my week had been, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you.. I had no right, especially not when you were so sweet abou-” you were cut off with his lips pressing on yours.

“That's okay, love. I know you didn't mean it, I just wanted to give you space to think everything through. I was never mad. Just upset that you were overworking yourself too much.” he replied after pulling away.

You teared up again.

“I love you so much.” You said, pressing your forehead onto his. He smiled brightly.

“I love you too. Now, do you want to talk about how you've been feeling? You need it, Let it out babe. I'm always here.”

Both of you spent the rest of the night, talking about each other's feelings and cuddling. Jason felt fulfilled as he saw you peacefully napping, getting the rest you deserve.

“Sweet dreams, sunshine.” He whispered, kissing your hair.