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natsaffection · 16 days ago

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Ghosted by You. | N.R

Spy!Natasha x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, stab wound

Word count: 3,7k

A/N: It’s based on this ask here! I tried to create the dynamics exactly like in the movie, but somehow also needed seriousness..🥸

You should’ve stayed home. You really should’ve stayed home..But no. Your brain, in its infinite wisdom, decided that after one amazing date, Natasha disappearing from your life had to mean something dramatic. That she was in trouble. That she needed you.

That she hadn’t just ghosted you because..oh, I don’t know, maybe she didn’t want to see you again. But did that logic stop you? No. Because instead of letting it go like a normal person, you tracked a random transaction on her credit card, hopped on a plane, and landed in London. And now? Now, you were tied to a goddamn chair in a dimly lit basement, with very angry men staring you down.

One of them paced in front of you, arms crossed. His accent was thick, British but rough, the kind that made you instinctively gulp. “Who sent you?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Who. Sent. You?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your face. “We know you work for the CIA.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “THE WHAT?!”

The second man sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes like you were personally wasting his time. “This one’s gonna be difficult.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wait, wait- hold on a second, you think I’m in the CIA?!” You let out a weak, breathless laugh. “Oh my God. Wait, I think I’m gonna throw up..”

“Cut the act.” The first man grabbed the chair, tilting it back so that you were nearly falling. “We know you were following Romanoff. What were you planning?”

Your what now? “Natasha? Natasha Romanoff?” You nearly choked on your own breath. “She’s, she’s a spy?!” The two men exchanged glances before the first one grumbled, “Great. The kid doesn’t even know.”

“Wait, hold on.” Your breathing was turning erratic, panic rising in your throat. “She told me she was a florist..?” The second man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.” You were spiraling. Your hands shook against the restraints, your brain struggling to process what the hell was happening.

“No! Wait, you don’t understand..” you stammered, words tumbling out too fast. “I literally just followed her because she ghosted me! I thought she wasn’t answering because she was in trouble! I-I thought I was being romantic!”

The first man just stared at you. “You followed a CIA agent across the world because she didn’t text you back?”

“…Yes?” For a second, neither man spoke. Then the first one turned to the other and said, “We should just kill her.”

“W-WHAT?! NO! No, that’s not necessary!” You wriggled against the ropes, full-on panicking. “I’m not a spy! I barely passed high school! I cried last week because my WiFi went out! Does that s-sound like someone who works for the CIA?!”

The second man pulled out a knife, twirling it between his fingers. “Too bad.” You squeezed your eyes shut. God, I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die because I followed a hot woman to London like a freaking idiot..

The door exploded inward. The first guy turned just in time for a bullet to tear straight through his shoulder. He collapsed with a scream. The second one lunged for his gun, but before he could even blink, Natasha stepped into the room, raised her pistol, and shot him twice in the chest.

Your brain short-circuited. Natasha didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink as she put a bullet between someone’s ribs. “Oh my God..” you whispered, eyes darting between the two men, one dead, one groaning in pain. “Oh my God, you!! You just killed-”

“Not now!” She stormed forward, cutting through your restraints with a huge-ass knife. “Are you hurt ?”

“YOU JUST SHOT TWO PEOPL-”She grabbed your wrist, yanking you to your feet. “I swear to God, Y/n, I will have this conversation later. Right now? Move.” She shoved you toward the door, and your legs felt like Jell-O. “I-I don’t think I can walk..” you stammered.

“Then crawl, I don’t care!” Gunfire erupted outside. Natasha grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind her as she stormed into the hallway, firing with precision. One man barely turned the corner before she put a bullet straight between his eyes. You screamed again. “Y/n, I will leave you here if you don’t MOVE!” she barked.

“What-” you whispered, watching people DROP like flies. “Don't look at them.” she snapped, grabbing your face and physically turning it away. “What the hell is happening?” Your breathing was getting worse, your chest tightening. “I—Natasha, I don’t- I don’t understand-”

She groaned. “Oh, for fu-”Before you could process, she picked you up. “N-Natasha!”

“Shut up!” She kicked a door open, carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “I can shoot faster when you’re not slowing me down!”

“I CAN RUN!”

“Clearly NOT!”

Gunfire shattered the walls behind you. Natasha spun, firing two bullets into the men chasing you. They collapsed instantly. Your breath hitched. “You’re killing them..” you whispered. Natasha didn’t hesitate. “And I’ll kill ten more if it gets us out of here alive!” Her coldness made your stomach drop.

You saw it now. The emptiness in her eyes, the precision, the way she fired without flinching. The woman you had been falling for, the one who had smiled at you over dinner, who had kissed you so softly..was a killer.

She caught your expression, saw the fear on your face and for a moment, her own softened. But there wasn’t time. She threw you into a stolen car, slammed the door, and sped into the streets. For a long time, you couldn’t speak.

“You’re scared of me now.” she said flatly, breaking the silence. Your mouth opened—closed. “You should be.” she muttered. Her hands were still covered in blood. You pressed yourself against the door, heartbeat pounding.

This wasn’t the Natasha you knew. This was someone else entirely. And you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into. The car ride was dead silent. You sat rigidly in the passenger seat, hands curled into fists on your lap, still shaking.

Natasha gripped the steering wheel like she wanted to break it in half. Her knuckles were white, her jaw clenched, and her entire body radiated fury. But you didn’t say anything. Because you were terrified. Your brain replayed it all on an endless loop, the gunfire, the bodies dropping, the blood on her hands.

You had thought she was a florist. You had kissed her, flirted with her, trusted her, And she had just killed six people without flinching. Your stomach churned. “Say something.” Natasha finally snapped, eyes still locked on the road. You swallowed, voice weak. “Where are we going?”

“A safe house.” A safe house. Right. Because that’s a normal thing to have. You nodded slowly, gripping the door handle like you might have to jump out of the moving car. Natasha let out a harsh breath, running a hand through her hair. “You’re still scared of me.” You flinched. Her grip on the wheel tightened. “I just saved your life, Y/n.”

“You also ended six others.” you whispered. The air in the car shifted. Her eyes flicked to you, calculating, cold. “That’s how this works.” You swallowed hard. “This?”

She exhaled sharply, looking back at the road. “You’re in my world now. You don’t get to judge me for doing what I have to do.”

“I didn’t ask to be in your world!” She let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? Because flying across the world to follow me sure as hell says otherwise.”

Your face flushed with anger. “I followed you because I thought you were in danger! Not because I wanted to be thrown into some goddamn murder spree!” Her grip on the wheel tightened.

“You think I wanted this?” Her voice was eerily calm. You hesitated. “I don’t- I don’t know what to think, Natasha.” She went silent.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you. The reality that you had just witnessed multiple murders. That you had watched Natasha—the woman you had been falling for, kill like it was nothing. Your chest tightened. Natasha let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered, “We’ll talk when we get there.”

She parked in a dark alleyway, leading you through a maze of backstreets until you reached an abandoned-looking building. The second she closed the door behind you, she turned, eyes blazing. “What the hell were you even thinking?!”

You jumped. “Excuse me?!”

“You followed me across an ocean. You got kidnapped. You almost died!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE A SPY!”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT BETTER!”

She stalked forward, and for the first time, you actually backed away. Her face immediately fell. You weren’t just arguing.

You were afraid of her. Natasha inhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Y/N…”

You pressed your back against the wall, shaking your head. “I don’t..” You swallowed hard, voice trembling. “I don’t know who you are.” Pain flickered across her face, but it was gone just as fast. She turned away from you, exhaling through her nose. “You shouldn’t have come.” she muttered.

“You could have just told me the truth!” She spun back, eyes flashing. “Are you out of your mind?! If I had told you- if you had known- you would’ve been in even more danger!”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh yeah? And what now?” You threw up your hands. “I know now, Natasha! I was just kidnapped and almost killed!” She winced. Just for a second.

Then, she stepped closer, voice dangerously low. “You want to know the truth?” she murmured. You swallowed. “No-”

“You would’ve been fine.” Her voice was cold, calculated. “If you had just stayed home. If you had just let me go. But now?” Her jaw clenched. “Now, you’re a target.”

Your stomach dropped. “Wait, what?” She sighed, rolling her shoulders. “They think you’re CIA. They think you know something. You don’t, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Your heartbeat thundered. “So- so what? What happens now?” She gave you a pointed look. “Now? I clean up your mess.” She grabbed a first aid kit and tossed it onto the table.

“Sit.”

“I’m fine-”

“Sit down.”

You gulped and sat. She grabbed your arm, not gentle but not rough and started cleaning the scrapes from where they had tied you up. The silence between you burned. You stared at her. At the red stains on her shirt. The blood on her hands. The way her shoulders were still tense from the fight.

She was different now. The Natasha who had laughed at your stupid jokes? The one who had kissed you in the rain? That Natasha was gone. Or maybe…maybe she was never real. She caught you staring. “What?” she muttered.

You hesitated. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Her hands froze. Then, she dropped the antiseptic, stood up, and turned away.

“…It was never supposed to go this far.” she admitted. Something inside you ached. Because deep down, you knew, this meant goodbye.

She exhaled sharply. “I’ll get you back to the States. I’ll make sure they lose your trail.” Your heart clenched. “You’re just sending me away?”

“Yes.”

“But I-” Your voice cracked. “What about you?” She looked away. “I’ll handle it.” Tears burned your eyes. “Natasha-”

“This isn’t your life, Y/n.” she said firmly. “It can’t be.” Your chest ached. You had risked everything to find her. And now, she was pushing you away. But deep down, you knew she was right. You weren’t built for this. For her. And it broke you. Natasha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you home tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Well..You and Natasha had been on the run for three days. Three days of gunfire, stolen cars, dodging assassins, and sleeping in dingy safe houses with barely enough time to breathe. Somewhere between nearly dying for the second time, sneaking across borders, and sharing a stolen coat for warmth, something between you shifted.

You weren’t just running anymore. You were running together. Natasha was still infuriating. She still rolled her eyes at your bad decisions, still called you reckless, still snapped at you for asking stupid questions. But now? Now she also held your hand when you got too cold. She taught you how to fire a gun, not that you were good at it, but she didn’t make fun of you when you missed.

She touched you more. Small, quick touches, her hand on your back, her fingers brushing yours. And most of all? She looked at you differently. Like she actually cared. Like sending you away wasn’t an option anymore. “We’re almost there.” Natasha muttered, pressing her hand to her earpiece. You both crouched behind a pile of rubble in an abandoned city square, panting from the last disaster of a shootout.

“Tell me ‘almost’ means we’re five minutes away from hot showers and real food..” you whispered. She gave you a dry look. “Try ten minutes and two more obstacles.”

You groaned. “Of course.”

“Look.” She pointed toward the far end of the square. A black helicopter was parked near an old church, CIA agents waiting by the doors. Your chest lightened. The helicopter was right there. You could hear the roar of the blades, see the CIA agents waiting, their weapons ready. Safety was so close you could taste it.

But of course..It was never that easy. You heard footsteps. Too many. And then, before you could react, an arm wrapped around your neck. Cold steel pressed against your throat. Your breath hitched. Natasha whipped around, gun raised. But it was too late.

The man holding you was grinning. He was tall, strong, covered in tactical gear. His knife dug into your skin just enough to make your pulse spike. More men emerged from the surrounding buildings, mercenaries, armed to the teeth. Your stomach twisted. You had walked right into a trap.

“Drop your weapons!!” the man holding you barked. The CIA agents hesitated. Natasha didn’t move. She stood rigid, her gun aimed directly at the man’s head. Her eyes burned. “If you touch her..” she said, voice dangerously low, “I’ll put a bullet between your eyes before you even think about blinking.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, Agent Romanoff. You care about this one, don’t you?” Her jaw clenched. “Drop. Your. Guns.” he ordered again. The agents exchanged glances. Natasha’s finger hovered over the trigger. You could feel her rage. The barely controlled violence. She was waiting for the right moment.

“Natasha.” you whispered, trying not to move against the blade. “Just go.” Her eyes snapped to you. And the way she looked at you, it was the kind of look that said she would burn the entire world down before leaving you behind.

“Not happening.” she said. Your heart clenched. Chaos Breaks Loose And then, everything happened at once. Natasha moved first. The bullet hit its mark, straight through the mercenary’s shoulder. His grip loosened just for a second. And that was all she needed.

You ripped yourself free, stumbling forward as gunfire exploded around you. The CIA agents opened fire. Natasha was a blur, taking down enemies like they were nothing. You scrambled backward, searching for cover, but the mercenary wasn’t done. He lunged.

And before you could react, the knife sank into your stomach. The second the knife plunged into your stomach, the world snapped into sharp, unbearable agony. You gasped, choking on your own breath, as fire erupted through your entire body. The blade twisted.

A raw, animalistic scream ripped from your throat. You collapsed, your legs giving out, your body feeling like it had been set on fire from the inside. The mercenary smirked. “Oops.” A bullet tore through his skull before he could even take another breath. His body dropped.

Her hands immediately pressed against your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Her face was wild with panic, her breaths coming too fast, her usual iron control completely shattered. “No. No, no, no-” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had shoved glass into your stomach, and every breath dragged shards deeper into you.

“Nat..” Your voice broke. “It- It hurts..”

“I know, I know..” she nearly screamed, pressing down harder. The pain spiked. You choked, nearly blacking out right there. “Stay awake, Y/N!” Her voice was frantic, almost desperate. “Do you hear me? Stay awake!”

Your ears rang. You barely registered the CIA agents rushing toward you. “We have to move-” one of them started. Natasha snarled. “Get a Stretcher on that helicopter NOW!”

Your vision blurred at the edges. Your limbs felt too heavy, your fingers tingling as the blood poured out of you. You could hear shouting. Gunfire? More soldiers? More fighting? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were cold. And so fucking tired.

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you as she hauled you up. “I got you, I got you.” she kept muttering, her voice wavering. You let out a weak whimper as she lifted you. The pain was indescribable. Like your entire insides had been ripped apart, burning, splitting, bleeding. “I know, just hold on, okay?” Her voice cracked badly.

She ran with you, gun still raised, still firing behind her. You felt the cold metal ramp beneath you as Natasha threw herself onto the aircraft, clutching you close. “Get us out of here!” she roared. The helicopter lurched. You barely registered it. All you could feel was pain. Someone was grabbing at you, pressing too hard on the wound.

“S-Stop..” you whimpered, the pressure making you see stars. Natasha snapped. “Be careful!”

“We’re trying to stop the bleeding!” a medic barked back. Natasha was breathing too fast. “She’s losing too much blood-”

“We know!” Your fingers trembled, reaching out. You didn’t even realize what you were doing until Natasha grabbed your hand. Her grip was tight and desperate. You tried to squeeze back, but you were too weak. That was when you saw it. The look in her eyes. The pure, unfiltered fear. Natasha was scared. Not of the bullets. Not of the mercenaries.

But of losing you. “Nat…” You barely got the word out. “Shh, it’s okay..” she whispered, pressing her forehead against yours. “Don’t talk. Just stay with me.” Your breath hitched. Everything was spinning. The medic’s voice faded. Your eyes fluttered shut.

Your body felt heavy. Everything ached. The dull beeping of a heart monitor filled the room. The scent of disinfectant burned your nose. You blinked against the blinding white light, your brain foggy, sluggish. Then, you heard her. “You better wake up soon, because if I did all of that for nothing, I swear to God-”

Her voice shook. Your lips parted. “Nat..?” The chair beside your bed screeched as someone jumped up. Hovering over you, her eyes wide, raw, frantic. “Oh my God.” You barely registered the way her hand grabbed yours, gripping it like she was afraid you’d disappear. You blinked up at her, throat dry. “Where…?”

“You’re in a hospital.” she said, her voice hoarse. You could tell she’d been awake for a long time. Your brows furrowed. “How long?”

Natasha hesitated. “…Three days.” Your breath hitched. “Three..?”

“You almost died, Y/N.” Her jaw clenched. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was?!” Ah. There it was. The anger. The Romanoff rage. You offered a weak smile. “Saved your life, though.” Her eyes flashed. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t joke about this!” Her grip on your hand tightened. You swallowed, watching her. Because beneath the anger…She looked wrecked. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair a mess. Still wearing the same clothes from the extraction. “Have you even left this room?” you asked quietly. She exhaled sharply, avoiding your gaze.

You sighed, shifting slightly, then immediately regretted it. White-hot pain tore through your stomach, forcing a shaky breath from your lips. Natasha’s head snapped back toward you. “Hey, hey-” She reached out, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving. “Don’t do that. Just..stay still.”

“…Natasha.” you murmured. “It’s not your fault.” Her jaw tightened. “Yes, it is.” Guilt..The Romanoff Way of Suffering She stood up, pacing.

“You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be on the helicopter. Not..Not bleeding out in my arms..” You watched her. “You saved me.” you pointed out.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? And look at you now.” You exhaled, trying to push through the pain. “You would have died.” you said softly. “That guy was gonna kill you, Nat.”

Her eyes snapped to you. And something cracked. “Then maybe I should have let him.” Your stomach dropped. “No.”

She shook her head, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I should have protected you. I should have been faster. I should have-”

“Stop.” She froze. You struggled to sit up, ignoring the way your body screamed in protest. “Natasha, look at me.”

She did. Her expression was so raw, so pained. “You think I regret saving you?” you whispered. She swallowed, lips pressed together. You reached out, grabbing her wrist. “You think I’d rather be lying in a grave than here?” She exhaled sharply. “…You almost were.”

“But I’m not.” you murmured. “Because of you.” She looked away. You squeezed her hand. “Nat.” Nothing.

“Natasha.” Her jaw tensed. Finally, after what felt like forever, she turned back. And the moment she met your gaze, something inside her broke. Because suddenly, her arms were around you. Holding you so tight it should have hurt, but you didn’t care. You felt her shudder.

“Hey..” you murmured, pressing your face against her shoulder. “I’m okay.” She shook her head. “You almost weren’t..”

“But I am.” She let out a shaky breath. Her grip didn’t loosen. You hesitated, then turned your head slightly, whispering against her skin. “I’d do it again.”

She stiffened. Then, she pulled back, her eyes burning. “If you ever do something that reckless again, I will personally kill you myself.”

You grinned. “I swear to God, Y/N-” You grabbed the front of her jacket and kissed her.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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batboysanonymous · 2 months ago

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Shadows Between Us

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Y/N’s world shatters when the mating bond snaps into place with Azriel, her brother Cassian’s best friend, and the one person who doesn’t want her.

Pt. II

Pt. III

Continue reading below ⬇

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Y/N’s fingers hovered over the last strap of her Illyrian training leathers, the leather stiff and worn from years of use. Her reflection in the ornate mirror stared back at her, a hollow version of the confident warrior she once believed herself to be. Her chest tightened as she smoothed the dark fabric. This armor protected her from the elements—but not from him.

Azriel.

The name echoed in her mind, a haunting melody she couldn’t escape. The bond between them was a cruel twist of fate, tying her to someone who didn’t want her. Not like that. Not like a mate.

Her brother, Cassian, was oblivious to the turmoil. She could hear his booming laughter from down the hall, sparring with Nesta in their private suite. Her brother’s bond with Nesta was vibrant and undeniable, like the sun blazing in the sky. Theirs was a bond that had been welcomed, nurtured. Nothing like hers.

“Are you ready?” Nesta’s voice broke through her thoughts. She leaned against the doorway, her sharp features softened by genuine concern.

“I’m fine,” Y/N lied, tightening her armor. “Just another day of training.”

Nesta crossed her arms, skeptical as always. “You don’t have to put yourself through this. If Azriel is going to act like a blind, ungrateful idiot, that’s on him.”

Y/N flinched but didn’t let her expression falter. Nesta had seen too much already, had heard the muffled sobs Y/N tried to hide. It was Nesta, after all, who had been scouring ancient libraries for a way to break the mating bond.

“What if there’s no way to break it?” Y/N had asked one desperate night.

“There’s always a way,” Nesta had replied firmly, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Even if I have to tear it from the Cauldron’s hands myself.”

Nesta’s fierce determination was both a balm and a knife. Y/N wanted to believe her, but the bond’s presence was constant, unyielding, like a second heartbeat she couldn’t escape.

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Azriel’s indifference wasn’t new, but it hadn’t always been this unbearable. For years, he had been polite, distant, a quiet presence in her life. That changed the night the bond snapped into place. She had felt it instantly, the overwhelming connection that pulled her toward him like gravity. She thought it would be the start of something beautiful.

It wasn’t.

The memory of that night was etched into her mind:

“I didn’t ask for this,” Azriel had said, his voice a low growl. Shadows curled around him protectively as he paced the room. “This bond—it’s a mistake.”

Cassian had been livid. “How dare you?” he had roared, fists clenched. “She’s your mate. You’re supposed to protect her, cherish her—”

“I didn’t ask for her,” Azriel had interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “And I don’t want her.”

Y/N had been listening from the shadows, her heart shattering with every word. She had fled before either of them noticed her.

That night had marked the beginning of her descent into a quiet, agonizing heartbreak. Azriel didn’t want her. And now, he barely looked at her unless duty required it.

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The training grounds were alive with the sounds of sparring and laughter when Y/N arrived. Cassian greeted her with a grin, his wings flaring dramatically as he held up his practice sword. Nesta sat on the sidelines, her sharp gaze keeping an eye on everything, especially Y/N.

And then there was Azriel.

He leaned against a stone pillar, his hazel eyes scanning the room. His shadows curled lazily around him, an ever-present reminder of his power. When his gaze landed on Y/N, his expression didn’t change, but she felt the weight of his stare.

“Late again,” Cassian teased, tossing her a wooden sword. “Better be ready. Nesta’s been waiting to knock you on your ass.”

“Like that’s new,” Y/N shot back, forcing a smile.

Azriel said nothing, his shadows whispering secrets she wasn’t privy to. He didn’t look at her again, not as she stepped into the sparring ring with Nesta or as she exchanged blow after blow with her sister-in-law. But she felt him watching all the same, a phantom touch that set her on edge.

“Keep your guard up,” Nesta barked, her blade coming down in a swift arc.

Y/N blocked it, her muscles straining. “I’m trying!”

“Try harder,” Nesta said, her voice sharp but not unkind. She feinted left and landed a glancing blow to Y/N’s ribs. “You’re distracted.”

“Am not,” Y/N muttered, even as her mind screamed at her to stop lying.

“You’re predictable,” Nesta continued, stepping back. “And predictable gets you killed.”

Cassian clapped from the sidelines. “That’s my mate. Brutally honest and brutally effective.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, her gaze flickering to Y/N. “You need to focus, or—”

“I’ve got it,” Y/N snapped, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Let’s go again.”

But even as they resumed, her movements were sluggish, her thoughts fractured. Azriel’s presence was suffocating, his silence louder than any words he could have spoken. When the session ended, Y/N barely waited for Cassian’s critique before heading toward the showers.

“Y/N.”

His voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned to find Azriel standing a few feet away, his shadows coiling around his boots.

“What?” she said, her tone sharper than intended.

He hesitated, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk.”

Her heart twisted painfully, but she forced herself to stand tall. “About?”

“The bond,” he said, his voice low. “I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her throat tightening. “I already know how you feel.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “You don’t.”

“Don’t I?” she snapped, stepping closer. “You don’t want me. You don’t want this bond. What else is there to say?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone.

“It is,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ve made it perfectly clear.”

His shadows stilled, wrapping tightly around him as if to shield him from her words. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” she lied, her voice breaking. “Except maybe honesty. But I guess that’s too much to ask.”

She turned and walked away, ignoring the pain that threatened to consume her.

That night, Y/N lay awake, staring at the ceiling of her room. The bond pulsed faintly, a reminder that no matter how far she ran, she could never escape him. But the tears didn’t come. She was empty, her heart a hollow shell.

In the darkness, she made a decision: If Azriel didn’t want the bond, she wouldn’t force him to accept it.

Even if it killed her.

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seresinhangmanjake · 10 months ago

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The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

Words: 2650

Notes/Warnings: Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Angst but also fluffy-ish stuff. Implied smut. Mention of pregnancy. I think that’s it. TG:M people ignore me. I don’t know what I’m doing here either, but i'm embracing it for now.

Part 2

When your brother pierced through armor into pale flesh, you felt it as if he had driven that blade into your body instead of the body of the man you love. You felt the shock of icy steel penetrating warm and delicate tissue, and the suffocation that came from the mutilation of your lung. You felt droplets of blood run down your front as you reached for the blade that was not there. As children, you were taught not to remove it. Not unless sufficient care was nearby to stop the bleeding before too much was lost.

Paul did not respect that knowledge. He yanked his knife out of Feyd’s torso and watched with relief as he collapsed to the ground. His body landed with a thud that matched the heavy beat of your heart. A beat that reminded you your blood was rushing strong, keeping you alive while your lover was draining dry of the strength to keep himself from leaving this world, from leaving you.

You wailed in the silence of those around you. Screamed at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face. You tried to go to him but the Fremen snatched you before you could reach him, forcing you to your knees, one of them slapping a hand over your mouth. This was not the time for hysterical outbursts; it was a time to stare in awe as a new leader accepted his victory and claimed power over the emperor and his daughter.

“Shut up, girl,” a male voice spit in your ear. He was tired of the struggle you were putting up against the hand squeezing your face. You were ruining his opportunity to witness a beautiful moment in history. A defining moment. A moment you didn’t give two fucks about.

No one spared you a glance save for the witch whose vibrant eyes were drilling into the side of your skull. A woman your father had instructed you receive as a stepmother following your third birthday. A manipulative woman whose smile in front of the Duke had masked the scowl permanently seared onto her face when looking at you—a decades-long act that the capture and death of your father had freed her from. And she’d wasted not a second displaying her distaste for his daughter.

Not long ago you'd thought to thank Lady Jessica for not loving you. Her lack of love made her so terribly desperate to rid herself of you that when cornered the night your family was attacked, she’d thrown you right into the arms of the Harkonnens—a fate she believed would destroy you rather than thrust you into a life you would come to cherish.

“A gift for you, nephew,” the baron had said after the fighting ceased and the soldiers, with you in their grasp, had returned to their unfamiliar home.

Feyd-Rautha had not rushed when he descended the staircase and approached you for the first time. His eyes were unblinking as he’d taken in his present; a slow drawl from head to toe that sent shivers down your spine.

“An Atreides,” Feyd had said in a low voice, deep and thick and eerily lovely.

The baron’s voice did not contain the same appeal. “Yes. Do you like it? A new pet for you to ruin.”

You’d stood frozen as Feyd traced a knuckle down your cheek before grasping your chin and running his thumb over your bottom lip. He’d possessed not a lick of shame when his index finger drew a line from the dip of your throat to your cleavage. There had been no consideration for your feelings when he tucked that same finger between your breasts and the neckline of your nightgown and lightly tugged you forward.

You had gasped with your stumble, your hands pressing against his chest to catch your fall while he smirked at the blush tinting your cheeks. His tongue then darted out to dampen his lips before he moved his hand to the curve of your waist and squeezed.

“Perfect,” He’d said, not in a loud declaration of appreciation, but in a tone meant for your ears only. Then he’d grabbed you by the wrist and led you to his chambers.

When the door had slammed behind you after you were jerked inside the room, you were suddenly filled to the brim with panic. You’d heard the rumors. What would he do to you? How would he do it? Would you suffer long?

A tear had slipped down your cheek that, once noticed, was brushed away with his thumb.

“Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”

You’d swallowed, stuttering, “Wh-What do you mean?”

He’d pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing pale skin taught over defined, well-trained muscle. Then he’d stepped into your space, inching you backward until your spine was flush with the wall. He’d fisted the flimsy, nearly see-through fabric of your nightgown in his hand and slowly dragged it up your body until fingers could sneak under the hem to graze your inner thigh.

You’d sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable waves of heat that rippled from his touch.

“Atreides or not, you’re much too precious to ruin the way my uncle suggests,” he had said, his lips a hair's-width away from yours. “I've been looking for you for so long. You're mine now, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He hadn’t loved your hesitation—you could see it in his eyes and in the downturn of his lips—but he was satisfied when you’d truthfully said:

“No.” Because you weren’t. Not after he had brushed that tear off of your cheek.

His next question had caused your heart to skip a beat from the concoction of emotions it shot through you. Fear of the unknown mixed with unexpected excitement.

“Have you done this before?”

You’d shaken your head and in response he lightly nodded, his nose nudging yours.

“You want to?” he’d asked, hiking your leg up to his hip, and you found yourself nodding as well. “I won’t make it hurt.”

You’d replied with a soft “Ok” before accepting his kiss with as much fervor as he was giving it, thankful that what you’d imagined was awaiting you upon your arrival in foreign territory was far from what you were receiving.

Days later, when you had mentioned that he did not live up to the rumors of his cruelty extending to all areas of his life, he’d hummed. Said, “I make many bleed, and enjoy it. I feed off of their pain. Those who have been in my bed are not spared this, and it will not be uncommon for you to see me stained with the death of others, including my former pets.”

He’d paused then, allowing you a moment to question your future as one of those pets, if that's what he considered you.

“But I have been searching for something that I’ve wanted for a very long time,” he’d said. “Something that hasn't existed within these walls. Something I will never want to harm. Something…soft…and sweet,” he had admitted to your surprise.

He’d then told you that you were that sweet thing. That he’d known it from the moment he saw you. That he was choosing you.

But it was a choice that had its repercussions.

All things must have balance, and you had tipped the scales. From his gentleness toward you, a darker, more gruesome beast emerged when facing off with others. A brutal warrior who never surrendered and never lost. A sadistic man who showed no mercy to the opponents whose blood you would later wash from his body. He had annihilated his previous reputation as just the famed killer of Geidi Prime and evolved into something more, all because of you.

That was why you thought he would win against Paul. Your brother was skilled, but the universe had long known the name Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his prowess in combat and his ruthlessness which had only grown with time.

So why was it not your brother on the floor with his love sobbing and struggling to reach him?

In the thirteen days since your lover’s death, it is that question that has robbed you of all peace.

Despite your brother having escorted you back to Caladan for the time being, you find no sense of home or happiness in your birthplace. You walk the beaches and fields that, as a child, you dreaded one day leaving, but they are not the same. Nearly a year has gone by since you were last here, however, so much of what you once loved about this planet is overshadowed by the shattered heart caused by Feyd's death.

When you were young, your father would often express his wishes for your future. He would paint a beautiful image of you bringing your children to play in the gardens of your childhood home, carefree and unburdened. It was a source of comfort that he used to mask the reminder of your duty as an Atreides: that you would not be marrying and having children out of love, you would marry in the name of peace and produce heirs in the name of security. And it seems in the end, he was right.

With Feyd unable to claim you, Paul will be the one to secure new arrangements for your future, which just so happens to greatly fare in his favor. After all, he just declared war, and you are the ripened political pawn at his disposal.

“Are you well?”

You turn as sharply as you can at the intrusive voice, but the uncomfortable skirts of your dress are thick and stiff, restricting your movements. Feyd never made you wear anything like this and you forgot what it's like to be weighed down by layers of fabric. You fucking hate it.

Paul stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back and a light smile on his face. Clearing his throat, he joins you on the balcony attached to your old room.

“I know we haven’t spoken much about what’s to come. I’m sure you’ve been curious,” he says.

You shrug, shake your head, and return your gaze to the horizon where ocean meets sky.

“We have matters to discuss.”

Matters such as where he will be sending you off to be married, you imagine. He must act quickly if he intends to establish and gain control over house alliances, since they weren't overly enthusiastic about accepting him as their leader.

“Let's sit down,” he tells you. He grasps your hand before you can object and guides you to one of the balcony benches. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat beside you and says, “I am going to ask you something. And I want honesty.”

You sigh. “What?”

“When you were with the Harkonnens for those many months, were you treated like a slave as I had feared, or were you something far from it?”

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important,” Paul states, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the way you wept over him after we fought, and how he denied every offer I made in exchange for your release…” With his pause, he shakes his head. “I thought maybe he had messed with your mind, confused you, and that was why you were so hysterical over his loss…but that’s not right, is it.”

“Paul–”

“Does he love you?”

It takes conscious effort to keep your body from shifting uncomfortably. “What is it to you?”

“He survived his wounds,” Paul says.

The casualness with which he shares that news heavily contrasts everything that runs through you. Your heart stops. Your lips part, unsuccessful in drawing in oxygen. Your eyes no longer see anything but Feyd’s face as it flashes in front of you. The way he looked when he last smiled at you. The way he looked the last time he came inside of you. The look of him when he died—or almost died. Death had been there, looming over him.

You’re trying to will away the tears. Paul is watching you too closely. “Wh–What?” you say.

“He’s alive, and he is demanding you be returned to him,” he informs you. “So, tell me: is he truly threatening me so aggressively over one of his ‘pets’? Or is he threatening me to get back the woman he loves?”

The woman he loves. You never imagined yourself in a situation where your brother would ask if a member of a centuries-long rival house loves you. But then again, you never imagined a member of a centuries-long rival house loving you to begin with.

You remember the night he told you. It was late and your bodies were bare after having bathed together. You were searching for your nightgown when he said “Come to bed, my love.”

You sighed, defeated. He’d called you that before, but whether it was real or not was such a mystery and it hurt your heart a little bit more each time. “You shouldn’t call me your love unless you mean it,” you finally told him.

You heard his footsteps when he stood from the bed. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Why would I call you that if I do not mean it?” he asked. Then he hummed and said “You know me better than that, my love” before dipping his head lower and nipping the shell of your ear with his teeth.

So yes, he loved you—loves you. But there’s something in Paul’s voice as he asks you that question that gives you pause. It’s too gentle as if luring you into a false sense of security. The Harkonnens are not known for their capacity to love, and Feyd loving you could be seen as a weakness; his one vulnerable spot.

As monotone as you can manage, you reply, “If you’re being threatened you should just send me back and be done with it. I know you have more important things to worry about.”

Paul’s lips thin in disappointment. “I can’t send you back,” he says. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He sighs. “Because I believe he loves you. And I need to see how far a Harkonnen is willing to bend for an Atreides,” he says. “If he wants you back, he will have to be open to negotiations.”

You stand sharply, take a few steps from him, and blow out a heavy breath through your nose. You were told your brother changed after drinking that magic water and it shows. Holding you hostage for political gain is not the same as marrying you off.

“I would like to be done with this conversation,” you say with a huff.

“I understand,” he replies, so you turn to enter your bedroom. But before you’re fully through the door, he says, “There’s more, though.”

You freeze.

“I had a dream,” he says, his voice coming closer. “There was a boy, no more than five years old. He had your features and your hair but his skin was of the same paleness as the Harkonnens.”

Sucking in a breath, you brace yourself with a hand gripping the door’s frame.

“You’re pregnant, sister,” he tells you, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. “But I'm very glad to know that the heir of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a product of love rather than an unfortunate incident,” he says. “Additional incentive, should it be necessary.”

In your shock, you can’t look at him. He doesn’t need you to. You can see his smirk in your peripherals, then he pushes off the frame and heads toward the main door of your room.

“Try to get some rest, sister,” he calls over his shoulder. “You really shouldn't be on your feet too long.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune movie

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amongemeraldclouds · 4 months ago

Text

dark desires

Theodore Nott had been the perfect boyfriend, yet there’s a darkness within him that you longed to unravel, to explore. So this Halloween, you came up with a proposal: a spooky mask, a haunted house, and a night for dark desires. Be careful what you wish for.

dark!Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, characters are aged up, dom!Theo, consensual non-consent (cnc), roleplay, knife kink, mask kink, oral (m! and f!receiving), degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, mirror sex, piv, creampie

a/n: posting my first ever kinktober fic! thanks to my wifeyy @pizzaapeteer for proofreading, you're the best ♡

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist | 4.4k words

Prologue

Theodore Nott is the ideal boyfriend. He celebrated your wins with you and encouraged you when you faced challenges. You received thoughtful gifts from him and your conversations always led you to new discoveries about the world. Being with him was an adventure just as much as it was home.

Yet the more you got to know him, the deeper your curiosity grew. Theo is a complicated person and it was clear there’s always more to him beneath his wild hair and ocean eyes. There was especially a darkness in him that drew you in. A shadow he hid from the world and you wanted to be that one person he could share it with. The one he confided in, explored it with. After all, it was the same darkness you saw in yourself. And so, you came up with a proposal.

One night of unrestrained exploration, a safe place for your dark desires.

“I want to know all of you. I’m not afraid of your dark,” you said, ending your proposal.

Theo hesitated, “you should be afraid.” Yet there was an unmistakable glint in his eye, a wilderness that rattled against the cage of his stoic restraint. Desperate and ready to be let out.

“That’s for me to decide,” you argued, searching his eyes. Asking him to trust you. “I want to know who you are when no one's watching. I want you to show me all the sinful acts you'd do to me knowing I'd take it all and enjoy every last touch,” you elaborated, sliding a finger down his chest.

Theo closed his eyes and sighed, his composure waning at your words. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky?” Seeming to gather himself, he hesitated. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It's okay, I promise. I want to free us from the restraints of polite society. Just you and me, Theo, let’s carve our own world together.”

His eyes softened, you were already his entire world. “Do you trust me?” he asked, gently caressing your hair as you laid in the crook between his shoulders and neck.

“Always.”

“That’s my girl,” Theo leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, sending tingles down your spine.

You basked in his praise and continued, “how would you feel about roleplaying a stranger in a mask? I promise we’ll discuss the details, set rules, and establish a safe word.”

He smirked, “I think we’re going to have so much fun.”

A faint glow led you deeper into the hallway. Around you, cobwebs were strewn across cracked tombstones, the names far too smeared to read. Your heart slammed against your ribcage as your hands shook. Another scream pierced the air from a distance. Your only companion was the weight that settled in your stomach the second you stepped into the haunted house.

Fog hissed in the corners. Wisps of smoke snaked from the ends of the room, creeping towards the centre. The cool air snatched your legs like the greedy outstretched arms of a zombie. A coffin laid in the corner with its lid missing, its sinister insides inviting you to settle in and rest your weary bones. You shook the thought away and walked as fast as you could, reminding yourself to breathe.

You were so close to the next room. So close to the end of all this horror.

And then you screamed. A figure growled beside you, where had he even come from? A mummy reached out, its skull tainted bronze with time. You ran through the rest of the hallway, laughing in relief when you reached an empty corner. A break from all the chaos. The next room was serial killer themed, adorned with blood-soaked bodies hanging limply from the ceiling. You took another moment to catch your breath and let another group of visitors pass you.

Closing your fist, you steeled yourself. Just as you lifted your leg to walk, a strong arm grabbed your waist and pulled you into the shadows. Your arms were pinned down your sides, trapped. The breath rushed from your lungs as you collided with a muscular body, your back pressed to him. His free hand tugged at your hair so that you were looking up at him. All you saw was hollowed out eyes and a gaping mouth. He was wearing a mask.

“Well well, who do we have here?” he said in a low tone, his gravelly voice followed by a malicious chuckle.

Your chest heaved as you tried to take lungfuls of breaths only to come up empty. Panic swam through your mind, thoughts plunging deep into the ocean of your subconscious. Out of reach.

“Want to play with me, amore?” He continued, releasing your hair so he could caress the side of your face. A gesture far too intimate for a stranger to make. His other hand kept your hips firmly in place. You tried to squirm, to move out of his grasp, but he was much stronger than you were.

His words sent a chill down your spine. Something was wrong. Were scare actors allowed to grab you? You could have sworn you signed a waiver that mentioned it was prohibited.

“L-let me go,” you squeaked, trying to find your voice.

“Play with me and then I’ll let you go,” he said, dragging out the words slowly, “I promise we’ll have so much fun.”

You tried harder to escape, arms and hips thrashing against his solid grasp. You screamed for help, certain someone would come rushing. The masked man simply laughed, unfazed by your efforts.

“I do like it when my prey struggle. Scream all you want, no one’s coming for you. It all just blends in with the others,” he said arrogantly as he tightened his hold on you to cease your movements. You froze when you felt his erection against you. Heat bloomed in the pit of your stomach and you tried to tamp it down. He was big and you wondered just how well he would fit inside you. “Careful now cara,” he teased, “or you’ll have to take responsibility for your actions.”

You shook your head to say no, to shake off the twisted desires that had taken you captive. In a last ditch effort, you stomped your foot down his shoe. He hissed in pain, cursing in a language you didn’t understand. His hold on you momentarily waned but not long enough for you to break free, just long enough for him to get angry.

“You want to play hard to get?” he said, his voice growing cold. “Fine, I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he pressed something cold and metallic on your neck. You instinctively moved your head away. Wrong move. It gave him more access to your throat.

“You wouldn’t want to find out just how sharp this is now don’t you?” he asked, the playful tone back in his voice. He had you right where he wanted you. In the haze of adrenaline and terror, an ache grew in between your legs and you squeezed them together, trying to find relief. “I’ll be good,” you said, fear and lust rushing through your veins.

“Show me,” he replied, commanding you as he kept his knife steady against your throat while his other hand released your waist. He wasted no time feeling you up under your dress, his hand caressing your soft thighs. Your knees felt weak from his touch, but you reminded yourself to stay still so your throat stays unharmed.

As he moved his fingers to your inner thigh, you moved your legs apart for him. You tried to convince yourself it was only to keep you safe. You definitely were not thinking about how good his fingers would feel on your soaking cunt. You took in a sharp inhale when you felt him tease you through your underwear.

You couldn’t help the way your hips bucked, wanting to feel more pressure from his fingers. He chuckled and shame mingled with the heat of your desire. “I knew you wanted it,” he said with a smile in his voice. You kept quiet because there was no denying it now.

Encouraged by your eagerness, he ripped down your underwear, exposing your dripping wet cunt. He slid his fingers across your folds, covering them in your slick. He spread it out to feel every inch of your aching core. It may have been cold in the haunted house from his blade to all the fog and fear, but right now, your entire body was on fire. “Fuck, you’re so drenched for me, amore. I bet I could easily stick two fingers inside you.”

You whimpered at his words, stunned that someone could be so bold and direct. You were not sure you could leave now, even if you tried. You needed to know how his fingers felt. He didn’t leave you wondering for long.

You found yourself moaning when your pussy suddenly felt full, his fingers working their way in. He curled his fingers, hitting your g spot. For the first time that evening, you screamed in pleasure. Your voice blended together with the other screams. Your knees gave out and you laid your head back on his shoulder, away from the knife. His body kept you upright as he continued curling his fingers then sliding them in and out, until he found a steady rhythm.

Sloppy, squelching sounds filled the air and it took you a moment to realize it was you. Satisfied you would stay and play with him, Theo lowered his knife so he could focus on your needy cunt.

You suddenly felt empty when you realized he moved his fingers towards your face. You opened your lips instinctively as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, your tongue lapping up your juices. He slid them in and out just as he had with your cunt, then shoved it down your throat, choking you in the process.

While you sucked on his fingers, you felt something hard rub against your clit and your eyes widened. It was the knife handle. “Be a good girl and take this for me,” he said as he moved it across your wet folds, gathering up your slick. “Grind against it, show me what you’ll do to my cock,” you closed your eyes while sucking his fingers and let your lust takeover.

It felt new and exciting to have the knife handle against you. It didn’t take you long to find the exact spots that shot euphoria through your veins and you rubbed yourself against it again and again. Pleasure built up in the base of your stomach. “I’m going to plunge the handle into you now,” he warned, “move carefully, wouldn’t want to see your pretty legs cut up now, don’t you?”

You shook your head to say no, too lost in the ecstasy to find your words. Your walls clutched the knife as it entered you effortlessly, you were already so stimulated, you could almost taste your sweet release. “Look at you, dripping all over this knife. You're a slut aren't you?” You moaned your agreement around his fingers.

Your senses were heightened as you concentrated on keeping your legs steady. He moved the knife back out only to enter the handle back inside you as he once again found a steady rhythm. You shifted forward, bracing yourself for your release. Theo noticed the sudden shift and he removed the knife, exchanging it once again with his fingers. He moved faster this time, chasing your release.

“You're gonna come all over my fingers and thank me, understood?” He said and all you could do was nod. “Show me just how much of a slut you are. Look at you, getting yourself taken by a stranger in a haunted house and fucked with a knife. What a perfect cockwhore.”

His words unraveled you and you surrendered to the pleasure. Ecstasy erupted through you in waves. Your walls fluttered against his fingers as he coaxed your release, curling his fingers to prolong the climax.

You panted against him as you felt your juices drip down your legs. “What do good girls say?” He asked and he slipped out his hand.

“T-thank you,” you managed, your voice hoarse from where he fucked your throat earlier.

“Thank you what?” he asked, slapping your cunt. You shivered against his touch, unintentionally grinding on his boner. It earned you a grunt, sending a jolt through your body, a new shade of desire illuminated within you. You enjoyed how he responded to you.

“Thank you daddy,” you replied, more steady this time.

“Good girl,” he said, praising you as he took a hold of your hand and pressed the knife into your back. Fear shot through you and you held your breath. “Step out of your underwear, bend over and pick it up like a good obedient slut.” You bent forward and followed his instructions, legs weak from your orgasm. “Put it in my pocket,” he commanded, “that’s it. This is mine now, a souvenir from an eager slut.”

“Come with me now, we’re just getting started,” he led you deeper into the darkness until a blinding light assaulted your eyes.

He had opened a secret backdoor. No doubt for scare actors to go around without being noticed, this was why they seemed to appear from nowhere. As your eyes adjusted, you got your first look at him. Not that there was much to see with his mask still on. All you noticed was the veins running through his muscled arm, black ink forming a pattern that disappeared up his shirt sleeve, but it was enough to stir your sinful thoughts.

“Don’t even think about screaming for help or running away,” he threatened as you moved side by side. Not that you were planning to anyway. To any onlooker, you just seemed like any other couple taking a stroll. The cool air brushed your sensitive bare cunt as you walked, sending gooseflesh rippiling through your skin.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” was all he said as he opened the door and you exited the haunted house. Of course, you should have known. There was a hotel just right across and it seemed he already had a room booked as he led you straight to the elevator. He blended right in with his mask, as others passed by dressed as fairies, pirates and other assortments of costumes. Ready to party the night away.

Theo had another party in mind. Your mind raced as elevator buttons lit up, taking you closer and closer to the last place you needed to be. But you wanted it. You remembered how big he was, the way he reacted to you, how good it felt when he called you a good girl. He also called you a slut and for him, you would be one. You were dizzy with delight. Besides, what other choice did you have? You thought about the sharpness of his blade and felt yourself clench. It shouldn’t have been exciting, oh but it was.

You stepped out the elevator and once again, a weight settled in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of all the things he would do to you. He still held your arm while he led you to the room, his grip gentler now that he knew you would stay. It was almost romantic.

He swiped the hotel card and gestured for you to enter. As you moved past him, all you could focus on was the king sized bed in the centre of the room. The sheets pure and pristine reflected the soft glow of the light, a blank slate for you to paint all your sins on. Behind you, the lock clicked into place and Theo secured the double lock. The sound was impossibly soft and innocent for something that reverberated deep in your bones. There was no turning back now.

“On your knees,” he commanded. Your breath shuddered and you hesitated. “I said,” Theo repeated impatiently, “on your knees” he gripped your hair for emphasis. The sudden force knocked you out of balance and before you knew it, soft carpet kissed your knees as you fell with a thud. He started unbuckling his jeans, an unmistakable bulge carved right in front of you.

Your mouth salivated as he freed himself. “Look at me,” he said, shifting your attention back to his face. “Open your mouth wide and put your tongue out. Good girl.” He spat in your mouth and used his thumb to spread it around your tongue.

“You’re going to take me real good,” he said as he guided his hungry cock into your mouth. Liquid heat pooled in your core again because he tasted good. His eyes fluttered shut when he felt just how warm and wet you were. You moved your tongue around him while he thrust himself into you.

“That's it. Look at me while I fuck your pretty mouth,” he encouraged you, pressing himself deeper until you felt him down your throat. He continued pistoning his hips, movements growing rougher by the second. Your eyes watered with the effort as you continued to suck and swallow. He swiped your tears away with his thumb and got impossibly harder. He liked watching you cry for him. Around you, obscene sloppy sounds filled the room.

“You're taking me so well.” Theo complimented in between grunts, his other hand still gripping your hair to keep you in place. “So perfect for me,” he praised you, words punctuated with his frantic thrusts. “You look so beautiful with my cock shoved down your throat. Just like that.”

You hummed in delight, eager to please him. Your tears and his thumb had long smeared your makeup yet he still called you beautiful. “Be a good girl and swallow daddy’s cum,” he said, signaling his near release. You braced yourself until you felt his warm salty taste in your mouth.

“That's right, principessa, you better not spill. Take it all, right down your throat.” You complied, enjoying the way he thrust slowly as if scooping the rest of his cum from your mouth down your throat.

Satisfied, he removed himself, “breathe amore, you did so well for me. Get up now it's time to give you a reward, you've earned it.” You stood on shaky legs, your knees blushing red from the carpet. Theo held you up and led you towards the bed.

“Just lie there, let me taste your eager cunt,” he said, lifting your dress up and over your head. Your thighs glistened from your arousal and Theo chuckled. “Fuck, only a slut gets wet from sucking cock. What a pretty little cockwhore for daddy.” You whimpered at his words and felt yourself clench in response. The mattress felt soft and supportive beneath your tense body, ready to cradle your fall.

“Tell me you want my tongue all over your pretty pussy,” Theo commanded.

“I-” you looked away, suddenly shy until he reached forward to grab your chin, making you face him. You looked at the black and white mask and bit your bottom lip. One final resistance before giving voice to your desire. “I want to feel you eat me, daddy.”

“Now, see how easy that was.” He released your chin as he moved back to position himself between your legs. He moved the mask up just enough to use his mouth before snaking his arm around your legs, keeping them spread out for him.

You sucked in a breath the second you felt his tongue on your aching cunt. He was so eager, lapping up your juices and kissing your clit all the way down to your folds. The way his tongue moved spelled pure need as he tensed it enough to penetrate you. A blinding haze swept through you, your core still sensitive from the echoes of your earlier orgasm.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth, joining the chorus of Theo’s kisses on your slippery cunt. Sheets gripped between your fingers, lust took over your body and you found yourself grinding against him and his mask, enjoying the delicious friction.

“That’s right, show me how much of a slut you are,” Theo encouraged, swirling his tongue around your clit. It didn’t take long until your stomach clenched again, you could almost taste your next release. Your breaths grew shorter and you could see the stars–

“On no, not yet, amore,” Theo chuckled, releasing you and sliding his mask back on. “Fuck, my mask smells like your cunt. I get to bring another souvenir with me,” he groaned in appreciation. “The next time you cum will be around my cock.”

You closed your legs, trying to find pressure to ease the need growing hot and desperate. “Please,” you whispered, begging for more.

“What’s that?”

“P-please,” you said, louder this time. “Let me cum on your cock, daddy.”

“Good girl, you’re a quick learner aren’t you? Come here,” he said, guiding you up. “Get on all fours and crawl to me,” he teased and he moved towards the edge of the bed. You followed him, lost in his spell. Your eyes widened when you spotted a floor to ceiling mirror in the corner where he stood. You had been too wrapped up in watching him to notice it earlier.

“Look at yourself, that pretty face and that perfect body,” he groaned. “Everything about you so fuckable.” You watched yourself in the mirror and noticed your smeared mascara, your hair crumpled right where he took you earlier, eyes and lips puffy from where he fucked your mouth. You were nothing like the prim and proper girl you often were and it felt liberating to not have to be perfect. Instead, you were on all fours, ready to be used like a whore by the man in the mask.

You felt him press himself against you in bed. When did he get there? You admired his naked body in the mirror, sweat glistening while they dripped down and traced his muscled figure. But his mask, only the mask, stayed on. The one he said smelled just like your cunt.

“Now you’re going to show me just how much you want to cum,” he said, positioning himself near your entrance. “I’m going to fill you up real good, but you’ll have to move yourself back. Fuck yourself on my cock, amore.” You clenched around him, rewarding his efforts with a pornographic moan.

Your soaked cunt welcomed him effortlessly and soon you slid yourself back just as he commanded, moving until his cock kissed your cervix. The slapping motion of skin on skin filled the air with lewd noises along with the smell of sex. Theo joined in with his grunts as he grabbed onto your hips, encouraging you to keep going.

You gripped the sheets, trying to find purchase. Pleasure swelled within you again from the way your nipples rubbed against the bedsheets, creating a delicious friction, to the heat that reignited deep in your core. Your entire body was on fire.

“That’s it, need to feel you cum on my cock,” Theo encouraged, reaching down to grab your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. It was enough to send you over the edge, seeing stars again as your walls fluttered around his hard length. Theo took over, rutting his hips into you to prolong your orgasm until you returned to him.

“Thank you daddy,” you rasped when you finally found your voice in between your labored breaths. “It’s my pleasure, principessa, but I’m not yet done with you,” he said darkly, continuing his pace. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he said, grabbing your hair once again to guide your head.

“Look at that cockwhore getting fucked. Watch your tits sway like the filthy slut that you are,” you moaned at his words, heat building deep inside you again. It was overstimulating, the way his balls tapped into you as he rocked his full length inside you. Watching yourself get used and seeing the wild look in your eyes, a mix of delight and desperation.

His deep, guttural voice echoed through you, pulling at your strings. Your arms gave out, weighed down by the intensity of it all, and before you could move, Theo took this opportunity to pin you down, his toned body covering yours.

You felt helpless and succumbed to him, no longer bound by fear. His mask hovered near your face as he continued his relentless pace inside you. “You like being used, huh?” He asked, looking at your connected figures in the mirror. “Yes,” you cried out, “I need to feel your cum inside me, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s a good slut, you’re taking me so well” he grunted, slapping your ass just before he increased his pace. It was brutal and you were screaming again, drunk from the cocktail of pain and pleasure. Italian expletives rained from his lips as he chased his high. You watched the way his muscles flexed from the effort.

The familiar heat raged within you, walls tightening around Theo’s hard cock. Echoes of your bliss reached a crescendo and you found yourself spasming against him again. “Take it all, amore,” Theo’s filthy moans joined yours as your release triggered his, you felt his liquid heat coating your insides as he rode you through your orgasm.

He collapsed into you, bringing you to his arms. “That’s my girl,” he praised, “I’m so proud of you. You did so well.” You smiled and leaned into him, removing his mask to see him smiling back at you. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips as if he hasn’t just fucked you raw. You laughed at the whiplash.

Your laughter washed over him, it really had been okay for him to unapologetically tap into his darkness in a way that feels euphoric and safe. It was liberating. His thumb traced your jaw, eyes searching yours. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, “nothing I couldn’t handle. I promise.”

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” he pressed.

Your eyes softened at his concern. “Yes, you made me feel good, Theo. You exceeded all my expectations. I love getting to know this side of you.”

You were already the best part of him, the sun that held all the light in Theo’s universe. He had no idea until tonight that his darkness could find a home in you too. It's the kind of dark that made the stars shine brighter. How had he gotten so lucky with you?

He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you closer to him. “I love sharing this with you. Now let me draw a bath and call room service for dinner. I’ll take good care of you, principessa.”

You called out to him as you watched him get up, “hey, Theo?”

“Yeah?” He turned back.

“Happy Halloween,” you said, grinning.

“Happy Halloween, amore.”

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist

a/n: I very rarely write smut, but when I do, the next one always seems darker than the previous one. Happy kinktober!

#kinktober #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theodore nott #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds smut

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hiraethandhoney · 3 months ago

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sad beautiful tragic | leon kennedy

❝ kiss me, try to fix it. could you just try to listen? ❞

info re6 leon x fem reader. i wanna say reader is like helena's age maybe? it doesn't really matter. established relationship. very angsty with a bittersweet ending. leon's a mess ok but he swears he loves you. mentions of alcohol consumption/alcoholism. sfw, spare for a handful of somber, desperate kisses.

notes i don't listen to taylor like i did when i was thirteen but this song is so ugh. reblogs & comments are always appreciated. <3

word count 3.9k | ao3 link

You’d tried to fix him, as if stitching together the frayed edges of his soul could silence the storm inside him. But every attempt only left you more hollow, more desperate. His misery seeped into your home like an uninvited guest, a shadow that devoured the light, eroding the fragile moments you used to call happiness. Leon had become a ghost of the man you’d fallen for—present in body but distant, unreachable, and haunting in his silence.

The walls between you grew thicker with every passing day. Words, once tender and easy, had become brittle and sharp. No matter how far you reached, his touch always seemed just out of grasp, his warmth slipping further from your fingertips.

Your mother always said: never give more love than you receive. But she’d never prepared you for how impossible that would feel when the person you loved most was unraveling before your eyes. The weight of it all dragged you to new lows, a kind of emotional exhaustion that made your chest ache and your mind wonder when the dam would finally break—when you’d either stop loving him or lose yourself entirely.

The rain pattered insistently against the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder shaking the silence. When the front door clicked open, your heart jolted despite yourself. His heavy footsteps echoed in the stillness, as familiar as they were foreboding. You tried to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blurred, forgotten the second they hit your mind.

You didn’t need to look up to know. The way the air shifted, the subtle tension of his presence—it was Leon. You could already feel it, the simmering frustration he carried like a second skin.

Figures.

His keys clattered onto the console table, a metallic sound that cut through the quiet like an accusation. His bag followed with a dull thud, then the sigh—low, heavy, resigned. You looked up in time to catch the way his hair clung to his rain-soaked face, his boots kicked off haphazardly by the door.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you thought—hoped—he might smile. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn't even be bothered to spare you, his sweet girlfriend, a single glance.

“You’re home,” you murmured, stepping cautiously closer, your voice barely louder than the rain.

Leon hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came. The silence was a knife, sharp and cold, carving through the fragile hope you hadn’t yet managed to smother.

He flinched when you reached for his arm. That hurt most of all.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice rough and distant, as if it was a chore.

“You didn’t,” you replied softly. “I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew you were okay.”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, baby blue eyes darting away in shame. Leon didn't want you to see how tired he looked, how the weight of his missions—or maybe the weight of everything—had stretched him thin.

"Is everything—"

"I'm fine." The words came too quickly, too curt. They were meant to end the conversation, but all they did was light a fresh spark of frustration in your chest. He brushed past you, his worn leather jacket hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

You picked it up with a quiet sigh, hanging it on the coat rack as if that small act of care might bridge the growing chasm between you. "You don't look fine," you said, keeping your tone gentle, almost cautious. Talking to your boyfriend shouldn't feel like tip-toeing around glass. Was it so wrong to be concerned about the man you loved so hopelessly?

Leon didn't answer. He collapsed onto the edge of couch, his elbows on his knees, calloused hands running through his semi-damp hair. His silence, albeit suffocating, spoke louder than words—another wall, another barrier he so intricately placed between the two of you.

"Leon," you tried again, siting beside him, voice trembling with the heavy load of everything you wanted to say. Trying to get a single, meaningful sentence out of Leon these days felt like pulling teeth. "Please, just talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." His tone was clipped, but underneath the surface, you heard the slight crack, the exhaustion bleeding through the cracks. You could see it in the way Leon's eyes were half-lidded, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, his fingers digging into his eyelids. The exasperated sigh he let out was the cherry on top.

You replied softly, equally as exhausted, "I'm not an idiot."

Finally, Leon snapped, like a rubber band pulled taut, "Why do you always have to push?" His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch—and you did. Regret flickered in his eyes almost instantly, but it wasn't enough to stop the sting. The slap had already been left on your poor cheek.

Why do you always have to push? His words repeat over and over again in your mind, like a broken record.

That wasn't fair, you always gave Leon the space he deserved after his long, taxing missions, but tonight you were struggling to stay afloat. It wasn't fair to you, constantly playing nice even when he showed zero signs of changing any time soon. He had to realize that this wouldn't slide, not anymore.

And as much as it troubled your lovesick heart, if Leon wasn't willing to let you in, then he wasn't ready for a relationship. A healthy one, at least.

"Because I love you!" you cried, the words bursting out before you could stop them, raw and desperate. "Because I'm here, Leon, and I'm fucking trying, but you just won't let me in, no matter how hard I try. You just—" You stopped, swallowing thickly, trying to steady your cracking voice. "Y-You just keep shutting me out like I'm some stranger you couldn't give a damn about."

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it had been triggered. Leon looked at you then, really looked, and for a moment, you thought he might finally say what you needed—no, deserved—to hear. But instead, he shook his head, sullen gaze falling to the carpeted floor.

"You don't get it." he said, barely above a whisper. "You couldn't."

Honestly, you'd prefer if Leon had kept his mouth shut. Not a single word of reassurance, or an I love you too, baby. The sickening, heavy weight of his cruel sentiment settled deep in your bones, nearly rattling you in place.

"That's not fair," you bit down on your bottom lip, a poor attempt at keeping your composure. "Maybe I don't understand everything you've been through, but I'm here for you because I love you," pathetic, so pathetic, "and I want to help. Why won't you let me? Why do you insist on wallowing in your own misery?"

Leon stood abruptly, his movements sharp, restless. "Because it's not that simple." Just the way he said that made you feel stupid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Every time I leave, I don't know if I'll come back," he stared directly at you, burning holes into your own eyes, "And when I do, I'm not the same. I can't give you what you want. I don't know how."

Tears dewed your lash line, "Then learn," you pleaded, standing up and grabbing ahold of his hand. "If you love me, if you really care...then try. That's all I want." If only he knew how much it killed you to watch him fall apart while he kept you at an arm's length.

With a sharp sigh, he scowled, "I am trying," his tone was terse, cold. "Can't you see that? Can't you see how hard it is for me to come home and pretend everything's okay when it's really not?" Leon scoffed in disbelief. Fucking fantastic. After a barely surviving a demanding mission that sucked the soul out of him, now he was arguing with his girlfriend that didn't have the slightest idea of the things he witnessed.

The look of pure anguish on your pretty face tugged at Leon's heartstrings. The little pout, most of all. Poor you looked so shaken up, unable to utter a single word in response. "You deserve someone who can give you something better than this, baby." He freed his hand from your grasp, and brought it up to your cheek, his thumb stroking over the soft skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

But you still relented, "You don't get to decide that for me, Leon. You don't get to push me away because you think it's easier." Your hand clasped over his, moving it away from your cheek and back down to his side. His lips part.

“Is this about her?” you then asked, the bitterness oozing into your gentle tone before you could stop it.

As if his night couldn't get any worse...He knew exactly who you were talking about, and it made his blood boil.

Leon blinked, his brows furrowing. "What?"

Feigning ignorance. Classic. An insult to your intelligence, really.

“Ada.” You hated the salty way the name tasted on your tongue. “Is that why you’re like this? Because she’s still in your head? Or because you think I’ll never measure up to her?”

You didn’t need Leon to answer that; the thought alone was enough to unravel you. Ada was everything you weren’t—dangerous, intoxicating, unattainable. She moved through the world like she owned it, all sharp smiles and quiet confidence, the kind of woman who left destruction in her wake but made you thank her for it anyway.

She didn’t ask for love; she demanded it, consumed it, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. How could you, with your soft edges and wide-open heart, ever hope to compare? You weren’t a storm—just the aftermath, picking up the pieces she’d shattered. If anything, you felt like some naïve, wide-eyed child who had no perception of the real world—you could never hold a candle to her.

Leon's face twisted, a flicker of anger lighting his tired eyes. "Don't even go there," he seethed, "This has nothing to do with her. This is about me, and my problems." Funny how he'd gotten so defensive all of a sudden.

"Isn't it, though?" you challenged, matching his tone. "Because it feels like I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met. I don't— I don't even know if you're really here with me, or if part of you is still chasing after her."

You got him there. "That's not fair," Leon said, his voice low but icy. He wasn't outright denying anything, much to your dismay. Nausea churned in your stomach at the thought him truly still loving her. The fact that you couldn't even blame him either made it all the more painful.

"Fair?" you echoed, frustration coursing hotly through your veins. "No, you know what isn't fair, Leon? Loving someone who's too scared to let me in. Someone who would rather run far, far away from me than let their guard down." It was getting harder and harder to suppress your tears, and Leon noticed.

God, Leon felt so sick. How the fuck was he supposed to fix this now?

Before he got the chance to say something in response—as if he had anything to say—you continued your siege, "You don't get to keep doing this. You don't get to keep pushing me away and shutting me out and then expecting me to stay with open arms." And legs.

His lips parted, but whatever words he had to say succumbed to their death, strangling his throat, before they could even reach you. A single tear rolled down your cheek, finally slipping free.

"I can't do this right now." you whimpered, shaking your head in disbelief and backing away from him.

"Wait—" But you were already retreating towards your shared bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you, quiet but final. Leon stood frozen in the middle of the dimly lit living room, staring at the empty space where you had been pouring your heart just moments ago.

And you were gone. Out of sight, but the sound of your sobs and cries echoed throughout the small apartment.

Leon ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting out a shuddering breath. He felt deflated, even more drained and tired than he initially had when he first stepped through the front door. The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the silence that enveloped the place felt heavier. Suffocating.

His gaze drifted towards the kitchen, eyeing a specific cabinet. Leon knew he shouldn't—knew you hated it when he turned to the bottle instead of you—but the ache in his chest was unbearable.

He needed something, anything, to dull the edges of his agonizing guilt.

His hands still trembled as he poured a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the lamp. Leon stared at it for a long moment, trying to find the strength to resist—and he almost did, almost poured the poison down the drain.

But then, like always, he brought the glass up to his lips, and took a slow, deliberate sip, swallowing it down neat. The burn was familiar, grounding, but it did little to quell the thoughts racing through his mind. He'd never felt so pathetic, so miserable in his entire life.

You deserved better than this. Better than him.

"I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met."

You were right. Damn it, you were right. Leon had been so caught up in his own head, caught in a quicksand of despair, that he didn't even realize he was doing exactly what he feared most—dragging you into his own mess. He was tearing you apart at the seams, stitch by stitch, without even realizing it.

That wasn't even the half of it, though. Ada. He hated that her name had come up, hated that she still lingered like a dark, looming shadow, haunting the spaces between you with a coy smile on her red lips. But the thing is, you weren't her. You weren't some fleeting, elusive dream. You were real, here, and you loved him despite all the reasons he thought you shouldn't.

The drink wasn't helping. If anything, it only heightened the feelings of remorse. With a frustrated sigh, Leon set the empty glass down with a thud, and scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. He decided doing some paperwork might do a better job at keeping his mind off things.

Fast forward an hour, and it in fact, had not helped him. Not even in the slightest. He groaned, slumping over his desk and burying his face in his hands, an air of weariness surrounding him like a thick, stormy cloud. Leon sat in the quiet, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him until he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his swivel chair, and head straight over to the sweetest girl he knew.

His steps were slow and prudent, as if each step towards the bedroom door was a battle in itself, a march to the guillotine. Leon hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before swallowing his pride and finally knocking softly.

"...It's me, baby." Who else would it be? He mentally chastised himself for sounding so pitiful. "Can I come in?"

There was a long beat of silence from your end. Leon almost thought you might not answer. He wouldn't be mad if you didn't. But then came your precious voice, muffled and tired. "The door's not locked."

Cautiously, Leon pushed it open, his heart was pounding in the confines of his chest—like he'd drunk an entire pot of coffee—as he stepped inside the bedroom. You were sitting on the floor cross-legged, back against the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your body, as if you were holding yourself together, afraid of collapsing like a house of cards caught in a gust of wind.

Christ, the sight nearly tore Leon apart; he couldn't even begin to imagine how you were feeling.

"Hey, sweet thing," he said softly, unsure of where to begin. He strode towards you, kneeling down to your level, and brought a hand up to stroke your tear-stained cheek. You grimaced. "I...I wanted to talk. Apologize."

You, however, didn't say anything in response, didn't lean into his touch like you always did. You even refused to meet his gaze, unsurprisingly. It hurt Leon nonetheless, but at least you weren't frantically kicking him out. He took that as permission to continue.

"I'm sorry," his voice was thick with remorse and shame, "For what I said earlier. For...everything, really. I didn't mean any of it."

"You didn't mean it, or you didn't mean to say it out loud." Ouch.

Leon winced, the words hitting him harder than he expected, like a bitch slap right across the face. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he pleaded, "Jesus, I could never. I was—" he stopped himself, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "I've been an ass. Taking all my shit out on you when you've done nothing but try to help me."

Finally, your bloodshot eyes meet his, sharp but wounded. "You think an apology fixes this? Think it erases the way you've been shutting me out, making me feel like I'm not enough for you?" you hissed bitterly, swatting his hand away from your face like an obnoxious mosquito. Leon swallowed thickly, backing up a bit.

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "I know it doesn't. I just...I just don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" you asked. "Let someone love you?"

"Yeah," Leon admitted, feeling like an open wound. "That. Letting someone in, it...it scares me, baby. I can't help it."

You stared at him for a long moment. He could see the war in your eyes—the hurt battling against the love you still hopelessly felt for him. "I don't need you to be perfect, Leon. I just need you to try. To meet me halfway." It was the least he could, wasn't it?

"I want to. I will. I just...I need you to know that I love you, even when I'm too much of a coward to show it. I love you. And I'm sorry for making you feel like that isn't true."

For a fraction of a second, Leon thought he'd won you over, mended your shattered heart, and that things would go back to normal, like when you first started seeing each other. However, that hope crumbled the moment you didn't kiss him back, his chapped lips lingering awkwardly over yours. He pulled away in shame.

"No, Leon." You wiped at your eyes, frustrated by the tears you couldn't hold back, streaming hotly down your cheeks. "You don't get to say you're sorry and just expect me to forget how much this has been hurting me." The lovelorn, sick part of you just wanted to accept his semi-sincere apology and move on with your life, but the more self-respecting half had overpowered that desire.

"You kiss me, try to fix it. But you never listen." you swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather your restless thoughts. "Don't tell me you're scared, or that you're broken, or whatever excuse you think I'm going to forgive this time. Because I know you're hurting, Leon. I know you've been through hell. But I'm here," your voice cracked, embarrassment crawling up your neck, "I always have been."

"Just please...stop making me feel so fucking stupid for staying. Like I'm wasting my time loving someone who doesn't even want to be loved."

Leon didn't even know what to say in response to that. His mouth dried uncomfortably, paralyzed by the impact of your desperate words. Again, like always, you were right. He didn't have a single thing to defend himself, because he really was in the wrong, trapped in a mire of hopelessness. It was oozing its dirty self into his relationship, tainting the one good thing he had in his godforsaken life.

So, he could only whisper, "You're right." His arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in effectively. You didn't protest against his embrace, making the most of the warmth and comfort it spread through your frigid bones. "I am so, so sorry," he mumbled, his hand cradling the back of your head, holding you close to his chest.

"I need you, sweetheart, more than I've needed anyone. You're the light of my fucking life, I just...I don't know how to be the man you deserve." Leon pressed desperate, frantic kisses against your forehead, then to your cheeks, tasting your salty tears on his lips.

"But I'll try, for you. I swear to God, I'll try." The crack in his voice was unmistakable. It tore you to shreds.

Against your better judgment, against all the hurt and anger that simmered beneath the surface, you pulled back a bit, enough to see the forlorn, crestfallen look that etched itself into Leon's jaded features, then to notice your tears that had stained his t-shirt. You bit the corner of your lip, a feeble attempt at suppressing your sobs, you then leaned in, lips capturing his in a kiss that was neither soft nor forgiving.

It was desperate, messy, and filled with everything the two of you couldn't say. All the love, the pain, the hope you somehow hadn't given up on yet. His tongue slipped past the crack of your lips, hands roughly gripping onto your thighs and coaxing you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. Teeth clicked against one another, noses bumping into the other's cheek, foreheads pressed tightly. His stubble scratched your soft skin deliciously.

"You're all I have left," Leon murmured breathlessly between kisses, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions, the rawness of his confession hanging heavily in the charged air. His hands smoothed up your figure, finding purchase in your hair as he pulled you closer; he thought you might vanish if he let go, even for a moment.

You melted against him, like butter, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, trying to tether yourself to this moment—to him. Leon's lips tasted of something bittersweet—maybe cinnamon—the kiss holding a desperation that bordered on aching, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken apology and feeling into it.

A single tear rolled down Leon's flushed cheeks as you pulled away for air, forehead resting against his. His breath was warm against your lips, a sign he was real and right next to you. That this wasn't some dream, but reality.

Probably not the time, nor the place, but Leon was so fucking pretty when he cried.

You brought your hand up, the soft pad of your thumb stroking it away. He leaned into your gentle touch like a kicked puppy, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your thumb as it brushed over his bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, the words barely audible but so full of meaning it made your chest ache, "but I don't know how to let you go."

#── ꒰ mina's fics ꒱#leon kennedy #re6 leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil

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ourzeui · 2 months ago

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student!vi x teacher!reader

note: vi's the same age as reader. this cookery class is just like one of those extra classes outside school during the summer. just imagine that being a cookery teacher is a part-time job you chose to do for fun! vi, abby, and ellie are a trio. they’re student-athletes!! (didn’t specify what sport they play) kind of ooc... very self-indulgent help this was inspired by earlier's incident of me accidentally cutting myself while trying to peel some mangoes. ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

warnings: mentions of knife and blood, cursing, wlw, MEN DNI

Vi wasn't exactly sure how she ended up here—here, being in cookery class, standing behind a counter, holding a knife like it was about to turn on her any second. Normally, she’d be on a field somewhere, dominating a game, making the whole crowd cheer for her and her hotness. But today? Today she was faced with an onion, and for some reason, that was way more intimidating than any opponent she’d ever faced.

Her attention kept drifting to the front of the class, where you—the new cooking teacher—were walking around, offering advice and checking on everyone’s progress. Vi couldn’t help but watch you as you moved from station to station, effortlessly making your way through the room with that perfect mix of authority and ease. It made her stomach do flips. It wasn’t like Vi wasn’t used to being in the spotlight. She was the star athlete, after all. But you? You were different.

Vi snapped out of her thoughts as Abby, her best friend, shot her a smirk from across the counter. "You’re really gonna let an onion get to you? You’ve faced down entire teams, but you can’t even handle a fucking vegetable?"

Vi shot her a glare. “I’m fine. Just... focused.” She waved the knife, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. But the truth was, she could barely concentrate when you were standing just a few feet away, walking toward her group.

“You sure about that?” Abby teased, glancing up at you, who was now standing near their station. “You’ve got someone watching now.”

Vi felt her face flush, and for a moment, she forgot about the knife entirely. You were standing right there, close enough that Vi could smell the faintest hint of your perfume. It was enough to make her heart race.

"Everything good here?" you asked, your voice smooth and calm, as if you hadn't noticed the absolute mess that was Vi’s chopping technique.

Vi forced a smile, trying to sound like she had everything under control. “Uh, yeah. All good,” she managed, but the words came out much higher than she meant. She mentally cursed herself. Why am I so nervous?

You didn’t seem to mind though. You smiled warmly. “Great. Just remember to be careful with the knives, alright? You’ve got this, just focus a little more.”

Vi nodded quickly, praying she wouldn’t embarrass herself. “Yeah, got it.” She swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than necessary.

As soon as you moved on, Vi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was definitely acting like a mess, but maybe—just maybe—if she could pull it together, she could impress you. She tried to focus on the onion again, but the more she thought about it, the harder it became to cut.

Vi went for another slice—SLICE—but the knife slipped and, of course, she sliced her finger. Again.

“Well, fuck.” she muttered, clutching her finger immediately. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of embarrassment.

Ellie and Abby turned toward her in unison, then broke into laughter.

“Oh my god, here we go,” Ellie snickered, holding her stomach. “This dumbass can’t even cut an onion without turning it into a crime scene.”

Vi shot her a glare, but the pain was already subsiding. It wasn’t the injury that was bothering her, it was the fact that you were nearby, and she had just made a fool of herself.

You walked over to her station, noticing the cut right away. “You alright?” you asked, voice soft, yet concerned.

Vi barely registered the words. She was way too focused on how your presence made her feel like the most awkward person alive. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just... uh, an accident,” she stammered. Great job, Vi. Smooth.

You gently took her hand to inspect the cut, and the contact sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "It’s small. You’ll be fine," you said, before reaching for a first aid kit. "Just a little more care next time, alright?"

Vi tried not to let her nerves show, though it was difficult with you standing so close. "I swear, onions are out to get me," she joked weakly, hoping to mask how completely flustered she was.

You laughed softly. “It’s all part of the learning process, don’t worry.” Your smile was warm and reassuring, and Vi’s heart skipped a beat. She’s smiling at me. She’s really smiling at me.

Vi managed a smile of her own, trying to act like she wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. “Yeah, I’ll try again. Just... don’t laugh too hard, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her flustered demeanor. “I won’t. You’ve got this. Just stay focused.”

As you moved on to the next station, Vi let out a breath, finally able to concentrate again. But she wasn’t sure how long she could hold it together now that you’d touched her hand and given her that smile.

“You’re totally crushing,” Abby whispered, leaning in with a teasing grin.

Vi’s face burned as she shot her friend a glare. "I’m not crushing. I’m just... trying to not mess up in front of our cooking teacher."

Ellie, who had been quietly observing, snorted. "Uh-huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Vi rolled her eyes, but it was hard to hide the smile that tugged at her lips. If anything, maybe she’d actually get the hang of cooking—just so she could impress you. Maybe next time, she wouldn’t be such a disaster in the kitchen.

And maybe, just maybe, if she wasn’t so nervous, she could actually make a real impression on you beyond the onion incident.

#vi x reader #vi x you #arcane #arcane x reader

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rinnstars · 5 months ago

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picture-perfect!

in which he keeps polaroids of you still in everything he owns

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble, post-canon, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated

people always say the honeymoon period of relationships end - sugary-sweet words that rolls out of ones tongue every few minutes turn into more mellowed down and calm compliments occasionally, opening of doors and other gentlemanly behaviour would slowly cease or become a rare sight, dilated eyes that focuses on you will slowly drift away too. he thinks that’s stupid - he doesn’t think for a single second of this relationship of years has that tightening of his chest stop when he sees you, nor has his eyes have not focused on you as if youre the ball he hyperfocuses on during his games, nor has he ever once stopped taking photos of you when your gaze drift away from his with one single click that to him, captures your beauty and the memories all in one printed polaroid in his room, hundreds of it hidden in secret corners of his room.

a polaroid of you as a bookmark for his textbooks - your smile practically brightening the dark background of an empty classroom where you found your lost keychain, exclaiming to him before turning around and pulling him into your embrace, your scent whirling and making him all dizzy as your touch sends electricity down his very spine. it keeps him in check, encouraging him to continue to do his homework even though he knows that’s not the path he’ll pursue with football in mind - but when your lips tug upwards the same way when he shows you another increased grade, he thinks its all worth it. and so he does - with that photo right beside him, he finishes assignments and essays that he usually dreads to do and would much rather spend his time in detention and taking a good nap than to figure out on which formula to use, what the key words are - and god is his head practically spinning already. but for you, he’ll continue on to study for that stupid quiz tomorrow, memorising the formula for you, each letter and equations all written with you in mind, ticking each answer with the hello-kitty pen you gave him. and so, when he shows you his full marks quiz, you would reward him with that crescent-eyed grin that gets his heart pumping as though hes right back on the field.

polaroids of you on his walls beside his bed - first one of you with your favourite strawberry cheesecake in front of you grinning as you successfully convinced him to go to the cafe you had been craving for for the whole day, hands holding the fork and knife before you digged in excitedly into the sugary-sweet and tangy taste of the cake that he secretly admits tastes so much better when its with you, second one of you with a sanrio stuffed toy holding it to your cheeks that puffs up as you laugh right as he snapped the photo, a plushie you adore that’s still on your bed to this day that he managed to obtain after loads of money and time spent on that one claw machine simply because you were too excited to obtain it, third one of you looking back big-eyed as he caught you off guard in class, taking a picture the second he called out your name. every night, he glances at the photographs that forms a heart right on his wall and clarity enters his mind again - insecure thoughts that floods his mind seems to go silent when he glanaces at you through the photo frame, his heavy breathing after another of those nightmare that turns slower and calmer as he looks at the blurry photo of you through his teary eyes and limited lighting in his practically pitch-black room, his smile that is uncharacteristically too wide for his face when he looks at you smiling as if youre infecting him with your addictive grin. for now, that’ll do well to replace your body caged in his arm that embraces you just right, your scent that fills his nose that practically acts as serotonin, and your warmth that contrasts his usually cold body.

and a polaroid of you with his jersey holding his trophy when he won his first big match under pxg, the backdrop being of the field that he was playing at just minutes ago, your eyes filled with adoration and pride at him behind the camera, holding your digicam that rings with the matching keychain to his polaroid film. tugged safely into his wallet where he can see your face - a reminder to buy something for you whenever hes at yours and his favourite desert store to buy you the pistachio macorns you adore or even the strawberry mochi that you look at with that shine in your eyes, a reminder of him being fortunate to have you to stay with him despite everything that brightens up his day no matter how bad it has been at trainings or matches, and most importantly a reminder for him on why each goal matters, each kick dedicated to you, each step practically made with you in his mind. to win, not completely only for his own ego, or as revenge against the critics both in his life and in the media, but for you - for you to look at him with such adoration that practically almost makes him start kicking his feet and everything as if hes a maiden in love, for you to kiss him and merge oyu and him together as congratulation that makes his heart pump even faster than on field, for him to see you wearing his jersey and holding his trophy as though its all yours - because in his mind, it is. because without you in his life, without your support and without your love, he doubts he can truly be the best striker in the world, no - he wouldn’t even be himself, itoshi rin, without you.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin.<3 #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #have a fever again not lcikgumg ij as per usual #fever but rinmaxxing

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cherbii · 1 month ago

Text

PUDDIN’

ft. Toji Fushiguro

summary -> you called yourself insane for falling in love with the murderous psychopath, until you became like him!

warnings -> Joker!Toji, Harley!Reader, language, violence, murder, graphic murder, dead dove do not eat, smut! p in v, choking, riding, knife play, blood kink. mdni.

The city never slept and neither did you, not with Toji by your side. It started like a fever dream—one second, you were patching up some two-bit gangster in a back-alley clinic, and the next, you were running for your life, blood on your hands, laughter in your throat, and a maniac with the sharpest grin you'd ever seen leading the way.

Toji Fushiguro wasn't just trouble; he was the whole damn apocalypse wrapped in a leather jacket and bad intentions. And you were the idiot who fell for it. The night you met, the sky bled neon, rain slicking the pavement as sirens screamed in the distance.

You should've gone home early, should've ignored the desperate pounding at the clinic door, should've known that a man who smiled through a bullet wound wasn't normal. But Toji waltzed in like the devil himself, bleeding from his side, grinning like he'd won the jackpot, and you—stupid, stupid you—had let him sit on your operating table like he owned the place.

"Yer a real doctor or just playin' dress-up?" he asked, voice all gravel and amusement as he peeled off his soaked jacket.

You glared at him, snapping on a pair of gloves. "You wanna keep running your mouth or actually get patched up?"

His laugh was low, like he was in on a joke you hadn't heard yet. "I like you already, doc."

That was the beginning of the end. You should have kicked him out, let him deal with his mess alone, but there was something in the way he watched you, eyes sharp despite the blood soaking through his shirt. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't even pissed off.

He looked entertained, like he was sitting front row at some twisted comedy act, and you had just become his favorite part. You told yourself you were just doing your job when you pressed the gauze to his wound, when you stitched him up despite the way his muscles tensed under your fingers, despite the way his smirk never wavered.

"You get shot often, or am I just lucky tonight?" you muttered, cutting the thread with more force than necessary.

Toji grinned wider. "Wouldn't call it luck, puddin’. But yeah, I get into trouble now and then." The words were barely out of his mouth before the clinic lights flickered, a sign that the building's shitty wiring wasn't the only thing malfunctioning tonight.

Your stomach twisted, and you turned toward the door, but Toji was faster. He grabbed your wrist, pulled you close, his breath warm against your ear. "Yer gonna wanna duck."

Glass shattered as bullets tore through the front window, shelves exploding as medical supplies rained down. You hit the ground hard, heart slamming against your ribs, ears ringing from the gunfire. Toji barely flinched.

He crouched next to you, reaching into his boot and pulling out a knife like this was just another Tuesday night. "Hope ya don't mind a little mess, doc."

You should have screamed, should have run, should have done anything but what you actually did—grin. Adrenaline surged through you, drowning out the panic, replacing it with something hotter, something reckless. "You gonna take 'em out or just sit here bleeding all over my floor?"

Toji barked out a laugh. "Knew I liked ya." The next few minutes were chaos. He moved like a phantom, slipping through the clinic, cutting through the gunmen like they were made of paper.

You barely had time to breathe before the last body hit the floor, blood pooling across the linoleum.

Toji stood in the middle of it, panting, covered in red that wasn't his, eyes gleaming as he turned back to you. "Ya got a car?"

You swallowed hard, ignoring the way your pulse thrummed in your throat. "Out back."

"Then let's get the hell outta here." You didn't know why you followed him. Maybe it was the rush, the sheer insanity of it all, or maybe it was the way he looked at you, like you were something special, something rare. Whatever it was, it had you gripping the wheel too tight as you sped through the city,

Toji lounging in the passenger seat like he hadn't just turned your entire life upside down. "You always this much trouble?" you asked, eyes flicking to him.

He smirked. "Only when I'm having fun." You should have dropped him off, left him to his own devices, but when he told you to take a left instead of a right, you didn't argue. When he led you into a crumbling warehouse, you didn't hesitate.

And when he pulled you close, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up to his, you didn't pull away. "Ya scared?" He murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

You weren't. You should have been, but you weren't. You stared into the madness in his eyes and felt something snap inside you, something that had been wound too tight for too long. "No."

Toji grinned, and then he kissed you, and you knew right then and there—you were never getting out of this alive. You didn't go home that night. You barely even thought about it. There was blood on your clothes, dried in your hair, smeared across your face, but you didn't care.

Toji tasted like gunpowder and adrenaline, like cigarettes and laughter, like pure fucking danger, and you wanted more. His hands were rough as they slid up your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against him like he wanted to burn you into his skin.

The warehouse was dark, reeking of oil and metal, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the heat between you, the way he groaned against your lips, the way your fingers fisted in his jacket, refusing to let go.

You didn't know what the hell you were doing. You weren't stupid—you knew what Toji was, knew what kind of man he had to be to smile through gunfire, to cut a man's throat without blinking. He wasn't just dangerous. He was the kind of dangerous that didn't stop, that didn't slow down, that didn't care who got caught in the wreckage.

And now you were standing in the middle of it, grinning like a goddamn lunatic. He pulled away first, chuckling low in his throat, resting his forehead against yours like he was catching his breath. "Yer somethin' else, doc."

You smirked, feeling high, feeling invincible. "You don't even know my name."

He laughed, like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Like it matters. Yer mine now."

You should have argued, should have pushed him away, should have told him that you didn't belong to anyone, but the words never left your mouth. Maybe because you knew he was right. The next few days were a blur. You didn't go back to the clinic.

There was no point. It was trashed beyond repair, and even if it wasn't, you had bigger problems. Whoever had shot up the place wasn't done looking for Toji, which meant they were looking for you now, too. Not that he seemed concerned. If anything, he was having the time of his life.

You spent your nights in shitty motels, cheap hideouts, places where the walls were thin, and the sheets smelled like cigarette smoke. Toji kept a gun under his pillow, a knife in his boot, a grin on his face like the world was just one big game, and he was the only one who knew the rules.

You should have been scared. You weren't. You learned fast—how to move, how to blend in, how to keep your head down when Toji told you to. You learnt that he didn't trust anyone, that he didn't give a damn about the people he worked for, that the only thing keeping him entertained was the rush, the thrill, the chaos.

And you learnt that you were just as bad as him. The first time you shot someone, he didn't look surprised. You had been cornered in an alley, some lowlife with a knife thinking he could take you out while Toji was busy inside. You didn't hesitate. You pulled the trigger, watched the guy crumple, felt your pulse hammering as the gun shook in your hands. Toji stepped out of the shadows, hands in his pockets, head tilted as he looked at you.

Then he grinned. "Knew ya had it in ya."

You laughed, breathless, wiping the blood off your cheek. "You gonna stand there all night or help me clean this up?"

His grin widened. "Fuck, I love ya, puddin’." You should have run. Should have turned around, walked away, found some way to salvage your life before it was too late. But instead, you laughed again, shoving the gun into his hands.

"Then help me hide the body, asshole." That was the moment you realised there was no turning back. You didn't regret it. Not that night, not the next, not even when the bodies piled up and the blood never really washed off. Toji made everything feel like a game, like you were two kids running wild through a playground made of crime scenes and getaway cars, and you loved it.

You loved the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that could keep up with him. You loved the way he laughed when things got messy, when bullets flew past your head and you didn't flinch. You loved the way he kissed you after a job, rough and desperate, like he needed you more than air.

The city turned into your playground. You ran through the streets like you owned them, your names whispered in alleyways, your faces printed on grainy security footage.

Toji took you to places you'd never dared to go before—underground fights where men twice his size (if that was even possible) went down in seconds, smoky bars where deals were made with a handshake and a threat, rooftops where you could see the whole city stretched out beneath you like a feast.

"Think we'll make it outta this alive?" You asked one night, sitting on the edge of a high-rise, feet dangling over the city lights.

Toji smirked, lighting a cigarette, the flame casting shadows across his sharp features. "Alive? Sure. Clean? Not a chance."

You grinned, stealing the cigarette from his lips, taking a slow drag. "Wouldn't want it any other way." He watched you, something dark and amused in his eyes, then pulled you onto his lap, crushing his mouth against yours. But not every night was golden. Not every escape was clean.

The first time Toji got caught, it wasn't by the cops. It was worse. You were holed up in a motel, licking your wounds from a job gone sideways, when the door burst open. No warning, no time to react—just a flash of movement, a crack of gunfire, and Toji hitting the ground.

You screamed his name, lunged for the gun on the nightstand, but a boot slammed into your chest, pinning you against the wall. "Cute," a voice sneered. "Think she's got teeth."

You looked up, vision blurring with rage. Three of them. Suit-and-tie types, but their eyes were dead. Professionals. The one pinning you down leaned closer, smiling like he was picking apart a meal.

"You know who your boyfriend pissed off, sweetheart?" Your fingers curled around the gun.

"Not enough people, apparently."

His grin widened. "Oh, I like you." Then he slammed the butt of his pistol into your skull, and everything went black. You woke up tied to a chair.

Toji was across from you, blood dripping from a cut above his eye, arms straining against the ropes. He was grinning.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," the men surrounding you weren't smiling. The leader crouched in front of you, tilting your chin up with the barrel of his gun. "You're gonna tell me everything your boyfriend's been up to."

You spat blood onto his shoes. "Go to hell."

He sighed. "Ladies first." Then he turned the gun on Toji. And you lost your goddamn mind.

"Touch him, and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." The man chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Wariness. Good. You weren't just some scared little girl. You were fire and glass and blood, and if they thought you'd break, they were dead wrong.

Toji licked the blood from his lips, watching you like you were his favorite movie. "Ain't she somethin'?" He drawled, voice all lazy amusement. "My puddin' sure knows how to make an entrance."

The leader rolled his eyes, pressing the gun to Toji's temple. "Last chance, sweetheart. Talk, or lover boy gets a bullet in the brain."

You grinned, teeth red. "You shoot him, and you'll never find the money." That got his attention. He hesitated, just for a second, but it was all Toji needed.

The ropes snapped. Everything went red. The chaos of the night had left both of you breathless, blood staining the air and sticking to your skin.

Toji sat across from you, leaning back against the wall, eyes still alive with that same wild spark as ever. His shirt was torn, his skin covered in bruises, and blood—his blood—was smeared at the corner of his lips.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight. Something about the mess, the violence, the way he wore it all like a badge of honor, stirred something deep inside you.

You slowly reached toward him, your fingers hovering just above the blood at the edge of his mouth. He didn't move, didn't flinch. Instead, he watched you with that ever-present smirk, as if daring you to do it.

Your thumb brushed against his lips, smearing the blood further across his skin, until it formed the outline of a twisted smile.

"There," you said softly, watching the blood mix with his grin. "Now you look like you're really enjoyin' yourself." The playfulness in your voice was a front, hiding the heat rising between you both.

His eyes seemed devoid of light as you continued, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know, puddin'," Toji muttered, his voice low and gravelly, "You're even more dangerous when you look like that."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you leant in closer, your lips brushing his jaw before slowly moving to the blood on his mouth, tasting it.

He inhaled sharply, his hand snapping to your wrist, stopping you for just a moment. "You're playin' a real fucking dangerous game, sweetheart."

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken words between you two hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. But before he could say another word, you pressed your lips to his, your hands slipping into his hair, pulling him toward you with a hunger that matched his own.

Toji groaned into the kiss, his grip on you tightening. Toji's lips were rough against yours, his hands gripping you tightly as if he couldn't get enough. The kiss was hungry, both of you fighting for control, but neither of you willing to give up an inch.

His body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, his muscles tense as his hands roamed over you. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

Toji pulled back just enough to look at you, his breathing heavy. "You're really not making this easy." He muttered, his hands still on your body. His eyes were dark, focused only on you.

You didn't care. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin, to feel the heat between you. You both worked in silence, each of you getting lost in the need to be closer, to lose yourselves in each other.

When you finally managed to get his shirt off, you ran your hands over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your fingertips. He let out a quiet curse, his hands moving to your back, pulling you even tighter against him.

"Shit.” Toji murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, feeling the thrill of his touch as his lips left a trail of heat along your skin. You didn't need words, not now. The tension between you was enough.

You grunted, slipping a hand back up into his hair, tugging harshly on the black strands to rip his head away. “Let me ride you, ‘Ji.”

“Fuck, puddin’. Gonna go dumb on the cock? Hell yeah.” He grabbed at your waist, tugging you towards the springy bed, almost tripping over bloodied limbs before he fell down, you bouncing on top of him before you shifted to straddle his lap.

It was a sight to see; a maniac beneath you, blood smeared at his lips and a wild look in his eyes. Yeah, you’d happily let this man ruin you.

Toji growled as you hurriedly went to rip your shorts off, eager to see you bare. His hand slithered to your cunt, pushing past the fabric of your panties to feel your warm slick.

“So fucking wet. Did killing get her wet? Fucking slut.” He chuckled, trailing his fingers up your torso until they found your pulse, squeezing at your neck.

“Says the ones who’s so fucking hard.” You mumbled, moaning out as your throat began to mechanically constrict.

“It’s what ya do to me, puddin’. Gonna show yer leaky pussy exactly what ya do t’me.” He snarled, curling his fingers, cutting off your air supply.

Toji couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch at the sight of you gasping for hair, eagerly reaching with his other hand, to his pants, tugging them until his cock sprung free.

“Ji…can’t fucking…breathe.” You wheezed, though your cunt pulsed and leaked into your panties.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya, quit yapping.” Toji murmured, releasing your neck and sliding his fingers up until he shoved them past your lips, forcing you to suck them clean.

His free hand went to your panties and tugged them carelessly to the side. Toji wasn’t a man of pleasantries, not now, not when you’re dripping onto his balls.

“Lift yer hips. Good fucking girl.” He said, grabbing his cock to guide it to your hole.

You both groaned out, albeit yours muffled, as you sunk down on his length. You leant forward to plant your hands on Toji’s hard pecs, using it as leverage before you raised your hips and slammed them back down in a repeated manner, whining every time his fat tip would nudge at that one spot inside you.

“God, this pussy is to die for,” Toji groaned, fingers dropping from your lips, coated in your saliva. “Gonna fucking murder me with how she’s squeezing my dick.”

Your lips fell open, panting Toji’s name. Fingers curling into his skin. “Love this dick—hah—could kill for it.”

“Rest easy, puddin’. Is all fucking yours. Shit, all yours.”

You didn’t miss the way Toji sent you a smirk, cheeks pulling at the dried blood on his face, the sight made your heart and cunt convulse.

It wasn’t long before you felt a burn in your thighs and lower back, stamina wearing thin. “‘J-‘Ji, ‘m tired. I can’t continue.” You whined, giving the man your best pleading expression.

“Yes, ya fucking can, and will.” Toji grunted, digging into his pockets and pulling out a butterfly knife.

He twisted his wrist, the blade whipped out before the sharp point was pressing at your throat.

“Keep up the pace or I draw blood.”

That was new, Toji never threatened you. Ever. You were his precious, porcelain (murderous) doll he paraded around town, yet it did something to you. Toji smirked when he felt you clench around him

So with a sound something between a whine and moan, you kept bouncing on his cock. Wet sounds filled the room, and so did your whines and moans.

“There we go, see, all ya needed was some motivation. Got ya moving real good f’me. Fuck.” Toji praised, tempted to push the blade into your skin nonetheless.

Your hips stuttered, pace falling behind. You hoped Toji didn’t notice, but of course he did. You whimpered as the blade made a small cut, red pebbling at the small incision he made.

Toji didn’t stop there, he pressed deeper and deeper, not enough to kill you, God, he’d never, but enough until the crimson dribbled down your skin, some onto the knife, most crawling to your collar and breasts.

Toji audibly groaned at the sight, moving the blade to his lips, tongue farting out to taste you. “Fucking hell, puddin’. Yer just as sweet as your blood.”

His words set a flame alight in your tummy. It grew bigger and bigger, until you could no longer contain it. “Fuck! Need to cum, gotta cum!”

“Cum for me, puddin’. Atta-fucking-girl.”

That was it, like a bucket tipping over, you came, hard. Toes curling, eyes rolling, mouth drooling.

“Shit. Fuck, puddin’. Gonna stuff this pussy full of my cum. Have psychotic children with the love of my fucking life. Aw, fuck.” Toji’s teeth clenched together as he spilled ribbons to ropes of his cum inside your cunt.

His hips jumped, and twitched before they stilled. You were panting by the time he was done, a little sweaty too, before you collapsed onto him.

“I got ya.” Toji murmured, wrapping his arms around while his head buried itself in the crook of your neck. You shivered when his tongue struck out and lapped at the cut.

The moment was tranquil, by your definition. Serene, peaceful, perfect.

Until there was a banging to the door, so loud you thought it was going to rip off its hinges. “This is police, open up!”

“Well, waddaya say, puddin’? Ready to kill some motha-fuckers?”

“As ready as you are.”

#ᶻz 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐈 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji x reader

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saintsanddevils · 7 days ago

Text

Unravel Me

Liam Mairi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Grief is your constant companion as you struggle to come to terms with losing Liam. You can’t handle the memories, so you ask Imogen to take them away.

Warnings: ‼️18+ (MDNI) explicit content‼️, smut, grief, death, blood, some violence, angst, ALL HURT/no comfort, first person reader pov

Author’s Note: This is probably my fav story I’ve written so far! Liam is my favorite of all of the Fourth Wing men & I’ve been dying to write this for so long. - also, every person who has checked in on me about burnout, thank you, you’re incredibly kind & I appreciate all the love!!

Word Count: 8.6K

AO3 link

Masterlist

• • • •

The stone archway is the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the ground. I lay my back against it, trying to keep myself standing. Breaths saw through my lungs in jagged, sharp inhales. A knife cutting through me from the inside out.

Storm clouds form in the sky above, ominous in the setting sun. The smell of wet stone and soil fills the air as I try to still my racing heart.

It’s been one month.

One month.

Four weeks.

Thirty days.

Seven hundred and twenty-two hours and counting since Liam has been gone.

Knees shaking, I close my eyes, breathing deeply. But the breaths come quicker and faster. The image of Liam’s broken, bloody face surfacing unbidden. The way his blue eyes frosted over before closing, his skin cracked and pale as he slumped against Deigh’s red scales.

Rough, uneven breaths escape me. Thunder rumbles the ground beneath my feet, the summer air chilled by the cool of rain. Each breath clouds around me as I stand beneath an arch, facing the open courtyard.

The very courtyard where I first met Liam.

I remember the way his eyes lit with a teasing gleam when they first met mine. He was playful, flirtatious, but his eyes captured me. Like crystal glass, filled with murky seawater shining in the sunlight. I’d never seen such a blue.

The memory stings, sharp and insistent with its presence. Since his death, I’ve been left with nothing but every memory I have of him. Each one imprinted upon me, unique and shining. How he smiled, fully and entirely intoxicating, when I entered the room. The way his skin glided against mine between sheets. The feel of his calloused hand gripping my own. His lips coasting mine, teasing, before claiming them for his own, stealing the breath in my lungs.

Every day since his death has been my own personal hell. Waking up, alone, forms a hollow ache within my chest that grows with every second. I never want to leave my bed.

For the first week, everyone grieved alongside me. But we’re in the middle of a war. We can’t waste any time.

Only the pestering of my squad mates and the force behind my dragon’s insistent encouragement force me out of my room now. Although they try to hide it, they’re concerned for me. I act like I can’t feel their penetrating gazes, but it’s suffocating.

Every day is suffocating.

Distantly, I hear someone call my name. With my eyes closed, I can pretend I’m not here. I can pretend he’s alive. I can pretend I will find him standing before me, smiling, when I open my eyes. That he’ll tell me I worry too much and he’ll kiss the rain from my cheeks and lips.

When I open my eyes, it’s not him standing there. It’s Imogen.

Concern lines her face as she stares at me. “I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

Tears burn my eyes as the rain begins to fall harder. Overcome by a heaviness crushing my ribs, my knees start to shake. I can’t tell if I’m holding on to the wall or if it’s the one keeping me up.

“Please,” I beg, voice cracking. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wake up tomorrow with this pain,” I grip my chest, swallowing the grief threatening to choke me. “It’s like a living, breathing thing inside of me. It’s poisoning me. I…I can’t do it anymore.”

Sobs escape from my lips, gasping and heaving. I must sound like a tortured animal as I collapse to the ground, cracking my knees against the stone. The pain grounds me as I slump against the wall.

This pressure on my chest, the one that settled there as I watched Liam limp towards Deigh a month ago, is stifling me. It’s growing more and more, crushing my lungs, severing my breaths as I cling to the stone beneath my fingers.

I completely forget Imogen until she’s stepping towards me. She watches the tears fall from my eyes, shared sorrow evident in her posture. She, too, knew Liam well. They all did. It wasn’t just me who lost him.

But she knows what he was to me. What I was to him.

I don’t know what convinces her. Maybe it’s the tears. Maybe it’s my pathetic whimpers. Or maybe it’s the hollow look in my eyes as grief consumes me. All I know is she’s staring at me with concern and hesitant understanding. And I cling to that like a lifeline.

“Okay,” her voice sobers me from my tears.

A shaky breath. Another.

“Really?” My whisper is broken in the space between us.

She nods slowly. “I’ll do it. But you have to know what you’re asking me to do.”

I nod back, aware of her hands as they clench and unclench at her sides.

The idea came to me last week when a cadet mocked Violet about losing her “guard dog”. Violet flinched and, suddenly, there he was. Xaden was a feral, untamed thing as he hurled himself at the cadet.

It should’ve been me. I should’ve hurt that dumbass cadet. I wish it had been me as I watched Xaden deliver blow after blow on the cadet before being thrown back by Garrick. My knees and hands were shaking as I watched him be crowded against the wall, restrained as the injured cadet ran down the hall like a fucking coward.

Grief is something that’s different for everyone. I think the only person who knew an ounce of what I felt was Xaden. He lost not only a friend but a brother. He loved him.

And as I stood there, staring as Violet calmed Xaden, I had known this grief would pass for him. It would haunt him forever, but it would scar over. He would heal because he had Violet. He had Garrick and Imogen and Bodhi.

I had Liam.

A steadiness settles in me as I meet her gaze. “I know what I’m asking.”

She closes her eyes, briefly, as if debating if this is worth the risk, before raising her hands towards me.

“You need to stay perfectly still,” she instructs, kneeling before me. “I’m not going to lie to you. This will hurt like hell, but the pain won’t last long. It should fade, along with the memories you want me to erase.”

I nod as trepidation and nerves slowly creep up my spine, causing my hands to shake. I clench them, steeling myself. Forcing determination to settle on my shoulders.

Imogen settles herself before me, waiting for my signal before touching the skin of my temples. The pink of her hair is darker in the low lighting, thunder gradually fading in the distance as rain continues to fall.

“Are you sure?” She asks, voice hesitant.

A flash of Liam’s smile has my gut twisting. Liam used to say that love was something he never thought would happen to him. That love was a fairytale.

After almost a year of being together, he whispered with shaky breaths, “I’ve never loved someone like I love you. You’re the other half of something I didn’t know was missing. Something so tied within me, I feel you always.”

I’d gripped him tightly, clinging to him as I kissed his collarbone, neck, all the way up to his jaw. “I feel you, too.”

He shook his head, lips brushing my ear. “Don’t you think it’s terrifying that at any moment, it could be gone? I could lose you?”

I’d given him reassurances. False promises.

I didn’t know I’d lose him so soon. I didn’t know loving him would become a curse.

Wanting something I can’t ever have again will kill me. I can’t do it anymore.

“Yes,” I answer Imogen. “I’m sure.”

She hesitates, only for a moment, before closing her eyes. I close my own, letting the rain wash my doubts away.

Pressure builds behind my eyes, steady and gradual at her fingertips. I can feel her presence in my mind.

“Start from your most recent memory,” she says. “And slowly go further and further until you reach the oldest one.”

I pause, my heart racing frantically in my chest as I immediately recall the last time I saw Liam.

“No!” I scream, but it’s too late.

Deigh slumps to the ground, motionless.

Blood drips from my hands as I run towards Liam, whose eyes meet mine in wide panic. I watch him stagger forward, limping, before collapsing to the dirt.

I’m there, holding him up as his body begins to slump. Xaden appears, helping me, but I barely glance at him. My entire focus is on Liam’s shallow breathing.

“Take me to him,” he whispers roughly, chest rising and falling jaggedly.

We help bring Liam to Deigh. My shaking hands cling to him as we settle him against the red scales of his dragon. Xaden lingers beside me as we both kneel before Liam, whose gaze is fixed on his friend.

“You’re the brother I’ve always wanted,” he smiles. “Don’t forget where you came from. Who you are, and who you’ll become.”

Tears well in Xaden’s eyes as he nods.

I feel like I’m intruding on a moment between them, but I can’t bring myself to leave Liam’s side.

“I-“ he swallows, gaze fixated on Violet behind us. “I hope I did enough-“

“You did,” Xaden smiles, tears now falling down his cheeks. “You did everything you could and more.”

Liam nods, tears in his own eyes. Xaden leans forward to hold him, one last time.

Liam mumbles something to him I can’t hear before Xaden backs away, back towards Violet. I catch Xaden looking at me, guilt written across his features, but I don’t acknowledge it. I can’t waste any second we have left.

Liam finally, finally, meets my gaze. His jaw clenches as he watches the tears streaming down my skin. His fingers reach up, wiping them away. I lean into his hand on instinct, forcing myself to memorize the way his calloused skin feels against mine.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” I whisper.

Liam’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then don’t.”

He pulls me forward, kissing me with his last breaths. I don’t hesitate. I kiss him with every fiber of my being, knowing I won’t have this for much longer. The feel of his lips will stay with me until I, too, meet Malek at the end of this life. Where I hope he waits for me.

When we part, I lean my forehead against his, breaths sawing through me like a serrated knife’s edge.

“I-I can’t lose you,” I gasp.

His skin is pale, almost gray-tinted, as his fingers softly touch my cheek. “You won’t lose me forever. I’ll see you again.”

A sob escapes my lips before I kiss him again. “I love you. Always.”

Liam’s smile is full of sorrow as he kisses me back. “I’ll love you beyond my last breath,” he whispers against my lips.

His fingers suddenly caress the back of my head, tilting my face to look up at him. There’s a severity in his eyes as he stares down at me. “Every moment we have had is something I’ll cherish long after I’m gone. I’ve never felt so lucky,” he kisses the tip of my nose, the top of my cheeks. “Whatever becomes of me, my soul,” a tear falls from his eye as his gaze holds me captive. “I’ll always be with you.”

I turn my head to kiss the palm of his hand. “I’ll always need you.”

“Not always,” he shakes his head. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Live,” his smile is beaming as blood trickles down the side of his head from an open cut, staining his blonde hair. “Live and forget me.”

“But-“

“I want you to grow old, live a full life. Fight to live beyond whatever this war will bring.”

I shake my head. “How am I supposed to forget you? You’re all I have.”

“No, I’m not. You have so much to live for, don’t let me stand in the way of something greater ahead of you.” I try to refute, but Liam silences me with another kiss. “You’re the one thing in my life that’s made all of this worth it. For that, I’m grateful for the time I was given with you.”

A whimper escapes me and Liam holds me, breathing me in.

“I kept my promise.” He kisses me once, twice.

In the space between us, we breathe together. I hold my hand to his chest, feeling the rise and fall. One long, deep, shaky breath, a whisper of my name, and he stills.

Silence crowds around me, choking the air as I weep into the skin of his neck, holding him close. A scream builds in my throat as his body grows cold beneath me. Rage rises like a tidal wave within me, numbing the pain.

They’ll pay. Every last Venin will die for this. For what they took from me.

I’m covered in sweat, blood, and dried tears by the time the sun sets and the Venin are defeated in Athebyne. For now.

Flames reach towards the sky, flickering and grasping for the stars. I grip my sword, Liam’s sword, tightly in my hand. Blood trickles down my skin across the blade as I stare into the fire.

Liam’s body burns atop the pyre. Ashes scatter in the breeze as everyone stands to watch. We all lived, and it sickens me. We survived, and Liam, the best of us, didn’t.

Bitterness settles next to the grief. It burns like acid in my gut. The last thing I remember is Violet’s hand gripping my own in comfort.

“You’re not alone,” she whispers.

But I am. I’m entirely alone.

The memory is ripped from my grasp, leaving me gasping, heaving, as the ache in my chest burns.

Before I can steady myself, I’m thrown into another.

Arms wrap around my torso, pulling me close to a firm chest as dim light filters through the arched windows.

“Good morning to you, too,” I whisper, groggily.

A breathy chuckle against my spine has my skin prickling. “Morning, love.”

I bask in the warmth of his arms, the feel of his muscles flexing against my skin as he kisses my shoulder. He hums, continuing kissing up my shoulder to my neck, shifting my hair to kiss up my jaw. I shiver, as his fingers trail down my torso to my hips, pulling the hem of my nightdress up my thighs.

“Liam,” I breathe.

I feel him smile against my ear as he nips at it. “Yes, love? Need something?”

His fingers trail up my thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When his calloused hand reaches the edge of my underwear, Liam’s lips caress my bottom lip.

I whisper against him, “I need you.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give you,” he smirks before his lips collide with mine.

He kisses me with a lazy, unhurried pace. As if we have all the time in the world.

I shift in his arms, gaining better access to his mouth as I tangle my tongue with his. My fingers dive through his hair as his own slip beneath the lace of my underwear. His skin is warm and rough against me as the tips of his fingers glide across where I want him most.

“Already wet for me, darling?” He growls into my mouth.

I moan as his fingers sink inside me, pumping agonizingly slow. He continues to tease and caress as I melt in his arms. When his thumb rubs smooth circles around my clit, heat begins to prickle at the base of my core. I’m already climbing to my peak, heaving and gasping breaths as he pumps his long, thick fingers in and out, gaining speed the more I moan his name.

“You’re intoxicating,” he groans as he bites my lip. “I fucking love waking up to you like this. Soaked and ready for me.”

A gasp falls from my lips just before he pinches my clit. Light flashes beneath my lids as I cry out, fire blazing up my body as I fall into the rhythm of his fingers. I pulse and squeeze around him as my hands grip onto him tightly. When I come down from my climax, a pounding on the door has me jolting.

“Don’t make me break this fucking door down!” I hear Xaden’s voice yell.

Liam groans, slumping against me. “Shit.”

The bed shifts as he rolls off the bed, covering me with the blankets before throwing open the door.

“What?”

There’s a pause before I hear Xaden’s low chuckle. “Sorry to disrupt your morning, but we have to leave.”

Liam’s shoulders tense. “Now? What happened?”

People are running in the hall, shouts echoing off the walls that force me to sit up, staring in confusion at the chaos.

“Get dressed,” Xaden commands, all amusement gone.

“What’s going on?” Liam asks again.

I can see Xaden’s jaw clench as he stares at his foster brother. “They’re calling us down to the flight field. War Games.”

Liam’s grip on the doorframe whitens his knuckles. “How many minutes do we have?”

Xaden hesitates. “Less than ten, but you need-“

“We’ll meet you on the field.” Liam slams the door shut.

When he turns to me, his eyes are blazing like blue fire. He stalks forward, standing at the edge of our bed. His hands shoot out and drag me to the edge, making me squeal. His fingers tear the lace from me, leaving me bare before him before forcing my legs open. He’s kneeling as I sit up, watching him as he leans forward to lick up my slit in one swift, precise movement. I groan, head falling back as I buck against his unyielding grip.

“But we have to go,” I gasp when he does it once more.

His voice is rough and gravelly as his lips caress my heat. “Guess I have to make every second count.”

The memory fades, like the burning of paper. Ashes scattering in my mind as pain radiates up my spine, throbbing at my temples. I bite my lip to keep myself from screaming as the pressure builds.

My head pounds as I’m thrown further, another memory crashing over me.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” Liam groans against my ear, pumping deep into me. “You’re taking me so well.”

I whine, shifting my hips to meet him with every thrust. He hits inside of me deliciously, stars dancing across my vision as his hands hold my waist, pressing me into the sheets.

An urgency fills us as we stop pacing ourselves and chase that fire slowly burning beneath our skin. It races in our blood as our skin slicks with sweat, breaths gasping.

Liam shifts his hips upward on the next thrust, making me moan into his collarbone.

“Gods, do that again.”

Liam smirks, blue eyes glittering when they meet mine. “As you wish.”

The memory warps, lost to time, as I’m thrown further, again and again, into one memory after another and another.

The mat presses against my cheek as Liam holds me down. I can tell he’s holding back since his weight isn’t entirely crushing me.

That’s a mistake he’ll surely regret.

I twist my legs, elbowing him in the face as I throw my weight onto him. He rolls, falling to the mat as I climb atop him, my elbow pressing into his throat to cut off his air supply. My legs hold his arms down to keep him from moving.

He struggles for a moment, but the shining pride in his eyes is what causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

“I love it when you throw me around,” he chokes out. I raise my elbow slightly to lessen the pressure on his throat.

I chuckle, leaning forward until we’re inches apart. “You like it when I make you do what I want?”

He smiles. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll beg for it.”

Paper crumples in his hand, frustration steeling his jaw as he throws it at the wall.

“Stop,” I say, reaching for his clenched fingers. “Stop blaming yourself. It won’t do anything good.”

His hard eyes meet mine, immediately softening. “I don’t know what to do,” his voice is broken, hushed. “I wish I could find her, hide her, take her as far from this as possible.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “Sloane doesn’t deserve this life.”

Bringing my hand to his cheek, I force him to open his eyes. “You can’t change the future just as you can’t change the past,” I give him a small smile. “She’ll be okay, Liam. She’ll have us.”

Liam’s gaze holds mine as he breathes deeply. We sit there, suspended in time, as he grips me with shaking hands. I know he’s fighting tears as much as he’s fighting the urge to throw a punch at the wall. But with me here, he slowly begins to calm.

When he grabs my hand laying on his cheek, he kisses it. “I guess I should be grateful she’ll finally meet you.”

I smile at the idea. “I hope she likes me.”

He grips me tighter. “She’ll love you. Besides,” he leans forward, inches from me. “She’ll have to since she’ll be putting up with you for a very, very long time.”

I raise a teasing brow. “How long will that be for?”

“If it’s up to me,” he breathes against my lips. “For the rest of our lives.”

The sunset flickers across the horizon over the distant mountains, casting the room in a dim, fading gold light. It refracts off Liam’s eyes, making the blue iridescent, as he smiles against my lips.

“Will you stay?”

I smile back, nipping his bottom lip. “Always.”

“I-I don’t want to wake up alone anymore.” He hesitates, swallowing. “Move in here with me. Share my bed and steal my blankets. Get dressed with me every morning. I don’t want to waste a moment without you next to me. Make this room both of ours.”

Tears gather in my eyes as warmth fills me, settling in my chest.

I kiss him recklessly, leaving us both breathless as I whisper, “Gods, I love you.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

Two cadets with fowl breath and malice in their eyes crowd around me. My heart beats wildly in my throat as I back away. Their hands sharp and insistent as they push me to the corner of the hall. Their hands locked on my wrists to keep me from running.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her.”

The words cut through the air like a knife laced with venom. It startles the men, who bolt upright to turn and see who spoke.

Liam’s face is a mask of fury as he strides down the hall. The second our gazes collide, he unleashes himself on them. He throws a punch at one of their faces, knocking them against the wall. The other, he tackles into the brick, cracking the back of the cadet’s skull. He groans as Liam throws punch after punch, blood spraying, before throwing the man to the ground. The other cadet is there, stumbling forward and hurling himself at Liam.

I scream when I see the flash of a dagger. Liam catches it within seconds. Being the best of our year has its benefits as he twists the blade out of the cadet’s grip and stabs it to the hilt into his arm. The cadet’s eyes widen, blood trickling from his mouth as he screams, falling to the ground.

The other cadet bleeds next to him, panting.

“What the fuck?” He groans.

Liam stands, blood soaking his clenched fists at his sides as he stares them down. “You touched her, tried to hurt her, you even scared her.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to live after that.”

The cadet Liam punched over and over again is now trying to crawl away, but it’s too late. Liam is there, hauling him to his feet and holding him against the wall by his throat.

“Liam,” I whisper, fear rattling my voice.

He stops. Everything stops as he lets go of the cadet and turns to me. He’s there, holding me as he quickly examines every inch of exposed skin.

“Yes, love? Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m f-fine,” I step closer to him, cradling his bleeding hands in mine. “Just please get me out of here.”

He nods, not even sparing them a second glance as he whisks me out of the corridor. We walk quickly until we’re outside in a courtyard. Under a stone arch he stops, pressing me against the wall as he holds me close.

“You looked so afraid,” he whispers in my hair. “I-I couldn’t handle it. Did-“ he hesitates. “Did I scare you?”

“You could never scare me,” I hold him tighter as the lingering fear begins to fade. A warmth settling in me from his close proximity. A sense of rightness at the feel of his arms around me.

He pulls back, looking me over once more. “If those fuckers laid a finger on you-“

I smile softly. “You stopped them before it got worse. I’m alright.”

He nods, forehead touching mine in defeat as his shoulders sag, releasing all the pent-up tension inside of him. “If I wasn’t there, if things were worse, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Who I’d become.”

I burrow into him, letting his warmth chase every horrible thought away. “But you didn’t lose me. You won’t.”

Liam shakes his head. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll fight. You’ll fight till your last breath to stay alive, to see the next day. I can’t-“ he swallows. “I couldn’t live knowing I could’ve saved you. But I can’t always be there.”

“You don’t need to be, but I’m grateful you were there today,” I press closer. “I promise to fight and not give up.”

He nods, satisfied. Silence envelops us as the night breeze whistles through the courtyard.

The moon shines on his blue eyes, making them almost silver as he says, “And I promise to fight for you, too. To love you and keep you safe. Till my last breath. You can hold me to that.”

Music floats through the air as Liam holds me close, hands intertwining as he guides me to an alcove covered in shadows. I stifle a laugh as we race through the corridor. We ignore the shouting taunts from Ridoc and Sawyer down the hall as they head back to the party.

Once we’re out of earshot and covered by the dark, Liam presses me against the stone of the alcove. He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are on mine, holding me captive. He’s insistent and intoxicating as he consumes me with just a kiss. He smells of liquor and desire, making me feel lightheaded.

His rough fingers drag the fabric of my dress up as his lips begin to trail down my jaw, neck, and chest. Before I can protest, he’s kneeling, throwing the fabric up to expose my legs to the cool night air.

“Liam!” I whisper-shout. “Someone will see!”

Liam raises a brow. “Then you better keep quiet.”

He grips the back of my leg, tossing it over his shoulder as he disappears beneath my dress. His breath is hot against my skin as he licks up my inner thighs.

I bite back a squeal as he moves my underwear out of the way, fingers toying with my skin.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Liam-“ I’m cut off by the feel of his mouth kissing my heat. His tongue diving deep inside me, causing me to throw a hand over my mouth, stifling a moan. My knees begin to buckle but he holds me in his firm grip, keeping me standing as he continues to twist his tongue deep inside, feasting on me.

I’m delirious with want as he continues to eat me out, thumb caressing my clit lazily. Pleasure spreads up my body, curling around my spine. My hips rock against him, pressure building and building before-

“Liam,” I gasp against my hand as my climax hits me, hard and fast. His fingers and tongue prolong my pulsing as I come all over his mouth. It feels like an eternity before my body gives out, sliding against the stone.

“Gods, I love the way you say my name,” he groans against me. “Especially when I fuck you.”

Liam stands, shifting his hands as I hear the sound of a buckle. Before I can calm my racing heart, he grips my thighs and holds up my legs to wrap firmly around his waist. I obey and immediately suck in a breath. The head of his cock is poised at my soaked entrance.

He suddenly leans forward, surprising me with a kiss on the tip of my nose. My heart swells before he finds my lips, kissing me. It’s consuming, claiming. Leaving me breathless and wanting.

“I love you so much, baby,” he says before pushing into me, stretching me. We moan together, breaths intermixing, as he bottoms out.

Using the wall as leverage, Liam adjusts me so my hips are at the perfect angle, his hands holding my ass firmly before he begins to thrust. My nails dig into his shirt as he hits me just right. This angle allows him to sink deeper and deeper, causing gasps to fall from my lips like whispered secrets.

He stops the sound with his mouth on my own, swallowing my moans. I taste myself on his lips and tongue. It’s incredibly erotic and fills me with immense pleasure as he thrusts harder and harder. I bounce against the stone, clinging to him for dear life as he begins chasing his own pleasure. I’m already climbing with him, breaths sawing through my lungs as I feel myself chasing another orgasm.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos. “You’re incredible.” He hisses as his cock hits me just right. My inner walls fluttering around him as he pumps faster. “Fuck, that feels-“

He groans just as his hips piston into me, wild and untamed as he releases inside of me. I’m right there with him. Like a flower bursting open in the sun, warmth burns through my body at the sensation. I don’t even care if anyone hears us anymore, I’m moaning his name loud enough to echo off the walls as I gyrate against him.

When we both finally come down, we’re twitching and panting, giving one another tired, lazy smiles. Liam towers above me, breathing heavily as he kisses my forehead, my temple, the corner of my mouth.

“Gods, you’re insatiable.”

I laugh before wiggling in his arms, causing his still-hard cock to sink further into me. He moans at the sensation.

“Another round?”

He laughs with me. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” his hands are firm on my wrists as he holds them above my head, trapping them against the cool stone. “As you wish.”

The stars are bright above the flight field as Liam and I lay back in the grass. It prickles the skin of my hands as a breeze flutters over us. The distant sounds of crickets and a nearby river fill the quiet. Both of our dragons lie close by, their sulfuric breathing filling the silence. We’re far away enough from them to feel as though we’re entirely alone.

Liam’s arm is close to mine as we lay, looking up at the constellations.

“What did Ridoc say to you earlier when we were leaving the gym?” I ask quietly. “You seemed annoyed.”

Liam’s breath hitches, his chest stilling. I feel his arm tense as he tries to slowly breathe out, almost like he’s calming himself.

“He, uh, just wanted to know about something.”

That piques my interest. I raise a brow. “About?”

Liam is quiet for a moment. “He wanted to know if you were single.”

“Oh.”

The silence is suddenly suffocating. The presence of our dragons makes this feel incredibly awkward, as if we have an audience. I can feel the weight of my dragon peering at us, like the gossip she is. I ignore her.

I don’t turn to look at Liam as I bite my lower lip. It’s been months of this constant flirtation. Months of tension that’s been building and building but I can’t tell if he’s just incredibly friendly with everyone or actually wanting a relationship with me. It’s driving me crazy.

Liam’s the type of guy who anyone can love and I hate how I’m one of them. How I’ve completely fallen for someone who probably only views me as nothing more than a friend.

A shaky exhale escapes me as I try and compose myself. “What did you say?”

Liam scoffs. “I told him to go ahead and ask you out.”

I startle, eyes wide and heart beating out of my chest as I turn to look over at him only to find he’s already staring at me. There’s a gleam of satisfaction in his eye as he watches my reaction.

Anger rises, sudden and quick. “Did you just say that to see what I’d do?!”

Liam shrugs before winking. “Just making sure you’re not interested in him.”

The anger dies as quick as it arrived. But my heart continues to pound, nerves sparking in my gut. “Why?”

Liam is suddenly leaning close, breath fanning over my face. He smells of mint, earth, and something so familiar, I ache to be closer to him. “I told him to go fuck himself. That you’re mine and he’d end up with a broken nose on that pretty-boy face of his as soon as he even spoke to you.”

My breath catches in my throat, a squeak escaping my lips. Liam’s mouth twitches at the sound.

“Who said I’m yours?” I whisper, unsure and entirely too hopeful for my own good.

Liam’s smile is beaming and brilliant. “You were mine the second you punched Jack in the throat after parapet.”

A laugh bursts out of me, startling the quiet of the night. Liam joins in, but his gaze is heavy and insistent on me.

“He deserved it,” I huff.

“He did,” Liam’s smile is contagious as his fingers move a piece of hair behind my ear, lingering next to my cheek. “But I also knew when you told me I’m just another big asshole at Basgiath,” he winks.

I roll my eyes playfully. “You came on too strong from the second you met me.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t want anyone to steal you away from me before I got the chance to sweep you off your feet.”

I raise a brow. “And did you?”

He lays his hand against my cheek, no more hesitating. “Depends on if you’re truly mine or not.”

I lean into him, eyes closing. “I’ve been yours for a long time, Liam.”

The nighttime breeze wraps us tighter together as he leans in and kisses me. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt his lips on mine and it sends a spark of fire down my body, lighting every nerve like a firework. I’m electrified, lighting up the night sky as he kisses me like something fragile and precious. Something worth having.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

He startles, pushing himself away before he’s suddenly hovering above me. A smile that rivals the brightness of the stars shines on me as he leans down, our noses touching.

“You love me?”

I nod, my nerves fluttering as he reaches out to caress my cheek. I’ve never seen him so soft, so gentle. No one would believe how trusting, caring, and loving he can be. But only I see it. Only with me does he let down his walls.

He’s kissing me again, but this time, he’s no longer holding back. He’s not gentle as he bites my bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth. I moan as his tongue surges into my mouth, claiming me. I’m lost to the feel of him as his hands tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to gain access to my throat.

Against my skin, he whispers. “Gods, I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for so long.” He licks a strip of my skin, biting my pulse, before sucking my clavicle. “Fuck, I love you so damn much, I’ve been going insane with wanting you.”

My breath hitches as his fingers trail beneath my leathers, finding the skin of my hip. He presses me into the grass as he finds his way back to my lips. Kissing me once more.

Time seems to hold its breath as we kiss under the stars, uncaring of what the next day may bring. All we have is this moment, clinging to one another and sighing with relief. I’ve never felt so happy in my entire life as Liam looks down on me with such adoration.

When he suddenly sits back on his knees, I pout up at him. He shakes his head, laughing as he holds his hand out.

“Come with me.”

He pulls me up with him off the grass and starts racing towards the school.

“Where are we going?” I huff, trying to keep up.

Liam’s grip is unwavering as he turns back to look at me. “We only have a few hours till sunrise and I need all the time I can get to show you just how much I love you,” he winks.

Warmth rises up my neck to my cheeks, making him smile wider as he pulls me after him towards Basgiath.

“Is something going on between you and Liam?” Violet asks.

I startle, choking on my drink. Rhiannon snickers as she pats my back, helping me. Once I can breathe, my eyes betray me. I automatically find Liam across the dining hall, talking with Xaden and Garrick. His face is tight with tension and concern as his hands clench beside his plate. When his eyes meet mine, as if he can sense me, the tension is immediately gone. He softens. A smile playing on his mouth as he nods to me, saying good morning.

I nod back, warmth filling my gut before I avoid Violet’s inquisitive stare and go back to eating. “Nothing’s going on.”

Rhiannon snorts. “Sure. And nothing is going on with Violet and Xaden.”

Violet stiffens next to me. “There’s nothing-“

Rhiannon holds up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t fight it, Violet. It’s way too obvious.”

Violet glares at her best friend, causing me to laugh. I catch Liam glancing at us from the sound.

“It’s just as obvious with you two,” Rhiannon presses.

I prickle at their interrogation. “What do you want me to say? We’re just friends.”

Violet shakes her head. “Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.”

I stare at her, brows pinched. “What do you mean?”

Violet glances at Xaden’s table and smiles. “Like that.”

I whip my gaze back to Liam to find him staring. He doesn’t look away when I meet his blue eyes. There’s an underlying intensity in his stare, something heavy and wanting. It leaves me breathless and trapped, wanting more than anything for us to be alone. To finally tell him how I feel. To see if maybe, just maybe, the lingering stares and touches and late-night talks are more than just friendship.

I break away first, staring down at the broccoli on my plate with sorrow climbing its way up my sternum. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Violet throws her hands in the air, clearly exasperated. “Gods, can’t you guys just shut up and make-out already!”

Her voice echoes around the table and I freeze. Closing my eyes, I hope he didn’t just hear her. I hope to every god that can hear me that he isn’t the one whose chair screeched against the floor. That it’s not his booted feet coming towards our table.

“Ladies,” Liam’s deep octave vibrates against my already rattled nerves.

“Oh fuck,” I mumble. I open my eyes to find Liam hovering above me, leaning his hands on the table.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he winks.

I fight the blush rising to my cheeks by curving my nails into my palms. The pain is sharp and helps clear my head.

“Morning,” my voice catches, sounding winded. “Did, uh, you need something?”

I catch Rhiannon smiling at the exchange in my peripheral.

Liam’s hand reaches back to wrap around his neck, showing off the rippling muscles in his bicep as he shrugs. “I was about to head to Battle Brief and wanted to see if you would join me. I mean, since you’re already heading there anyway.”

I nod, butterflies threatening to rise from my gut and fall out of my mouth as I clench my fists beneath the table. His stupid biceps are all I can focus on as his bright blue eyes burn into me.

FOCUS!

I smile. “Yeah, sure,” I turn to Violet and Rhiannon, who are smiling so big and taunting, I want to throw them off the bench. “Are you guys done? Want to head over with us?”

Violet shakes her head. “Oh no, don’t wait up for us. As a matter of fact, I think you’re looking a little chilly though,” she raises a concerned brow. “Do you need my coat or-“

Liam is draping his jacket over my shoulders before she can finish her sentence. I’m startled and staring as his cheeks redden from the attention.

“Ok, we’ll see you guys there,” he holds a hand out to me, waiting.

I turn back to Violet to see a satisfied gleam in her eyes. I glare.

Rhiannon chokes on a laugh as I take his hand, quickly making our way out of the dining hall.

We shove our way through the crowded halls, Liam close by my side as I hold on to his jacket. It’s warm and smells so much like him that I try and resist burrowing my nose into it. Would he think it’s weird if I keep it?

I shrug out of it, not trusting myself or this sudden burst of kleptomania to keep from me stealing it. “Here, I’m not super cold. It’s okay.”

Liam stops me, shoving it back onto my shoulders. “No, I want you to. Besides,” he winks. “You look good in it.”

I hide my blush as we make our way through the crowd once more.

It’s only when we’re at the door to Battle Brief that I realize I’m still holding his hand and he never let go.

Like knotted string, Imogen unravels my mind. Every knot a memory. She pulls and yanks until I’m fraying at the edges. Pain shoots through my veins, burning me from the inside out. A scream slowly builds in my throat as the pain increases to an all-consuming fire.

Just as the pain rises, it falls, like a cresting wave crashing against the shore. And a strange numbing sensation takes over.

A strange hollow throbbing begins to pulse inside of my head. As if something, or many things, are missing. I can’t place it and as soon as I try to recall what’s gone, it whisks away like a leaf in the breeze.

Imogen’s hands are steady on me as another memory, this one golden and bright, surfaces.

“I could show you a thing or two with those pretty long legs of yours wrapped around my-“

A crunching sound echoes in the courtyard as my fist collides with Jack Barlowe’s nose. His head whips back, harsh and startling. I keep my stance, watching and waiting as he whips back around, fury lighting his eyes.

“You fucking bitch!”

My hand shoots out again, this time slamming into his larynx, cutting off the sound in his throat. He chokes, staggering backwards. He falls to the ground, heaving.

The son of a bitch deserves it for pinching my ass and asking me to meet him in the dorms tonight like I’m some sort of whore. I roll my eyes and walk away from him, ignoring the stares that follow in my wake. I didn’t survive the fucking parapet to be groped and manipulated by some jackass.

“Excuse me?”

I whip around, ready to take on another asshole when I hesitate. My eyes widen at the sight of the man before me. He’s incredibly tall and broad. Muscles line his arms, rippling across his skin as if he’s a statue at a gallery. He towers over me with an impish grin on his face. His golden blonde hair a beacon in the sunlight. My heart races in my ears as I stare up at his incredible handsome face.

“You’re in the Fourth Wing, right?” His voice is deep, hypnotic. I could lose myself to the rhythm of it.

I nod, dumbly. “Flame Section.”

He smiles and I feel a strange sense of gravity slipping from beneath my feet at the sight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

But beautiful men often tend to be assholes. Like Jack.

“Me too,” he shrugs. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

My hackles rise at the compliment. “Why?”

He puts his hands up, showing he’s not a threat. “Hey, I’m just curious. I wanted to know the woman who beat the shit out the biggest asshole at Basgiath.”

I roll my eyes. “All men are assholes here. He just happens to be one of them.”

He cocks his head, leaning forward with a twinkle in his eye. “Am I one of them?”

I step close, glaring up at him. “Most likely, given how you seem to entirely depend on your good looks and charm to get you through your time here. Just like any asshole.”

“You think I’m good looking?” His smirk is intoxicating. “And charming?”

I shake my head. “And apparently brainless.”

He leans closer. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as you keep talking to me.”

My heart gets caught in my throat as I try and swallow. He watches the movement with sharp, knowing eyes. That smirk stretching wider.

“What if I don’t ever speak to you again?”

“You want me to beg, is that it?” His voice is as soft as velvet and it slithers over my skin. “Should I get on my knees for you?”

The image of him on his knees, looking up at me through his lashes, has me jolting away from him. He laughs, which rings through the air like a forgotten melody I only just remembered. It’s frightening how familiar he feels to me.

Annoyance prickles my skin as he continues to laugh at my expense. “You’re just another pompous ass who gets off at the idea of taunting me.”

He shakes his head, his smile never wavering. “Oh gods, you’re entirely wrong. Trust me.” He raises a hand, holding it out to me. “How about we start over, yeah? I’m Liam Mairi and I promise I’m not an asshole. Or,” he shrugs. “Not as big of an asshole as Jack is, at least.”

I can’t help my smile at the words. My annoyance simmers, but something inside of me knows he won’t be like Jack at all. I’ve always been good at reading people and Liam seems like he might actually be the opposite of what I thought he was.

I whisper my name back at him in greeting before reaching out and shanking his hand.

Something golden, like a thread, weaves between us as our skin touches for the first time. Intertwining around the space between our rib cages that has me gasping. It’s familiar, yet frightening. It’s something fragile, but I know it’ll somehow be something glorious. If I let myself curl into it. If I trust it. Trust him.

As I appraise Liam Mairi, I know, deep in the marrow of my bones, that I can trust him. That maybe, just maybe, he’ll become something more. He might be my everything. If I let him.

And that’s the most terrifying thing of all.

As if I’m rising out of water, after drowning for so long and seeking oxygen, I surface from the memories. They fade away with the tide, blinking from existence, as I feel my breath steady me.

Blinking my eyes open, I find Imogen moving back from me. With a quirk of my brow, I stare up at her eyes now brimming with unshed tears.

Why is she crying?

“Imogen?” My voice cracks, roughly, as if I’ve been screaming for hours.

Glancing around, we’re sitting on the stone ground of the courtyard. An arch protects us from the rain. The clouds are dark and ominous above, but I don’t remember coming out here. Weren’t we just having dinner in the dining hall?

Furrowing my brows, I purse my lips. How did we end up here?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I whirl to look at Imogen. “What for?”

That’s when I notice the skin of my cheeks are damp. Touching them, I quickly wipe them with my sleeve. Must’ve been from the rain.

“Can we go back inside? It’s cold.”

Imogen is still staring at me as she helps me from the ground. My muscles ache and pinch as if I were sitting for a long time. Strange.

I stretch my limbs and stare up at the dark clouds. “Hopefully we didn’t miss dinner.”

The last thing I remember was heading to the dining hall with Violet. How did I get here without her?

Imogen is silent as she watches me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She hesitates. “Nothing. Let’s go back-“

“There you are!”

We both turn to find Violet and Xaden heading towards us. Concern is painted across their faces as they approach.

“Are you alright?” Violet asks, stepping towards me.

I tilt my head. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

Imogen flinches in my peripheral, catching Xaden’s eye. He narrows his gaze on her as Violet continues to fret over me.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been there for you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. You never will be.”

I furrow my brows, staring at her. “What are you talking about, Vi? Weren’t we heading to dinner?”

She freezes. Suddenly the quiet is stifling as everyone shifts their focus to Imogen.

“What did you do?” Violet asks, her voice piercing.

Imogen stares at the ground, her eyes brimming with tears again. She doesn’t respond.

Xaden’s dark eyes are heavy on me as he steps closer. He whispers my name like I’m a startled animal and it sets my nerves on edge.

Why is everyone being so cryptic and dramatic?

Violet is the one who steps in front of him, taking my hands in hers. “Do you know who Liam Mairi is?”

At the sound of the name, something strange happens. An echo of something deep inside of me leaves me aching and wanting. I search for what it is that has me feeling this way, but I’m left empty. As if a part of me is missing. As if I’ve been cut up and left to figure out how to pull myself back together again. All I can feel are the ashes of something that used to be there and I can’t understand what it was.

“Who’s Liam?”

255 notes · View notes

jayparked · 18 days ago

Text

revenge for my valentine | kim sunoo

SYNOPSIS: after you and your coworker sunoo are both dumped by your long-term partners — heeseung and karina, who then start dating each other — you’ve had enough of wallowing in self-pity. with the valentine’s day office party just around the corner, you and sunoo decide it’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourselves. instead of letting your exes steal the spotlight, you hatch a plan to make them regret the way they ended things. this valentine’s day, it’s all about having your cake and eating it too

PAIRING: coworker!kim sunoo x female reader ; ft: y/n's ex!heeseung x sunoo's ex!karina

GENRE: smut, slight angst

AU: fake dating, coworkers to ???

RATING: explicit/18+, minors dni

WORD COUNT: 12.1k (gasp snail wrote porn WITH plot)

WARNINGS: semi public sex (they get walked in on), sex at work!, protected sex, big dick sunoo!, sex without orgasming, sunoo rips your underwear, titty fondling, gross makeout sessions, lots of internal conflict

SNAIL TRAIL: just...trust me on this...pls...give it a chance...even if you don't see sunoo in a sexual way like that...just TRUST ME. either way happy valentines day to each and every one of you! if no one asked you to be their valentine, this is my formal confession to you and i'm now your honorary valentine teehee

thank you @dazzlingjaeyun for betaing for me and thank you to @sungbeams for encouraging me and listening to me complain about this for what feels like years. you both have provided me with such endless and selfless support i can't thank either of you enough. ich hab’ dich lieb

The sharp edges of the invitation threaten to prick through your skin as you grip it too tightly, fingers starting to numb from holding this position for so long. The tremble in your hands is hard to miss, your breath hitches and a sharp pain twists in your chest. Heeseung and Karina are skipping about the office, merrily handing out invitations to their fabulous Valentine's Day party they'll be throwing, oblivious to the knife they’ve just stabbed in your heart. Or maybe it was intentional with the way Karina’s fingers lingered on the envelope when she handed it to you, tongue poking past the side of her lips while she looked you up and down before trotting off. Every coworker in sight is approached with boisterous smiles and batting eyelashes from the couple, promises of a fabulous night with endless celebrations of love pouring from their lips as they excitedly rave about the details of the event.

"And we got it approved by the big man to host it here! Everyone has to be there!" Karina’s shrill customer service voice echoes throughout the padded cubicles and your eardrums.

A groan slips past your lips before you can stop it. Normally you'd be down for office parties and festivities, you're a fun gal after all. But the idea of attending a Valentine's Day party that your ex-boyfriend is hosting with his "newer and better other half" just doesn't sound as appealing as one might think.

You desperately want to crumple the invitation in your fist and you outwardly seethe as Karina clutches onto Heeseung's chest while she leans into him with forced laughter, him naturally moving with her, chest rumbling before placing a passionate kiss on the top of her head. In a gross quirky fashion, Karina kicks up one of her feet, giggling with each second Heeseung’s lips are on her skin.

You can’t look away.

Her stupid gorgeous skin that glows when the sun shines through the windows while your skin seems to be greying and wrinkling with each passing day. It’s an over exaggeration, of course, but the jealousy is sinking its claws deeper into your system, stomach lurching as the feeling starts to make you physically unwell.

You hate her stupid skin and her stupid effortless highlights and her stupid perfectly white teeth. The sun should burn her, not make her look like an angel descending upon this earth. Which, she totally acts like on a daily basis, sunshine or not. But you see past her act.

All you can do is remind yourself that you are a better person than your hostile instincts and negative thoughts want you to be. There’s no point in indulging in them anyways, she’s the office’s golden girl after all.

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly exhale through your nose, lowering the invitation painstakingly slow and delicately placing it to the side of your desk. You will show no weaknesses. They will not get to you as much as they probably would have thrived to see you shrink into yourself with self loathing.

A loud huff of breath behind you breaks you from your trance, and you turn around to see your co-worker Sunoo failing at being the better person; his jaw is clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face are twitching, his invitation is in pieces scattered across his lap and desk, some bits still stuck to his clenched fists in between his fingers. His entire body reads fire-angry and pissed off, but there's something recognizable in his eyes that tells you there's more going on deep within his mind. The way his eyes shake and glisten, it’s like looking in a mirror. Seeing the pain you’re feeling reflected on someone who’s no more than a coworker, much less a stranger, ignites a new emotion in the pit of your stomach, one you can’t quite explain yet.

Sunoo is one of the handful of coworkers you’ve worked beside for years but have never exchanged more than ten words with. He’s quiet, tends to his work, and keeps to himself – just like you do. Even when he and Karina were together he shied away from the PDA and loud declarations of public love. The few times you cared to spare a glance in their direction, it always seemed that Sunoo was uncomfortable having all eyes on him with a bright red face paired with fidgeting hands. It was enough to make anyone feel bad for the guy.

Glancing around, you make sure the coast is clear, (AKA: all the attention is still on Heeseung and Karina), and you scoot your chair across the short way to Sunoo's desk.

"Hey, Hellboy,” you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “extinguish your flames will ya?"

Sunoo's jaw relaxes as he looks at you for a moment before turning back to the mess around him. Closing his eyes, he lets out a more tender sigh, carefully picking up each piece one by one before sprinkling them into the garbage.

"Thanks," he says weakly. "I didn't realize I was expressing myself outwardly like that. Nuts isn't it?" He forces a chuckle, shaking his head as he goes back to watching the couple of the year receive their compliments and adoration from the other office sheep.

"Completely nuts." You agree, scooching closer until your chairs touch and you’re sitting side by side, watching the show alongside him.

"She's acting like we weren't even together. Heeseung seems to be doing that to you too. It's crazy! Weren't you guys together for like three years?-"

"-Three years." You say in unison.

Sighing together, you both lean back into your chairs.

"Karina and I,” falter again, his voice quivers, your own chest tightening at his words, “we were together for four."

The pout in his voice breaks your heart, more so than it already is. And feeling such a strong emotion for someone you barely know surprises you. In all your years with this company you’ve just found it easier to keep to yourself, even more so after your breakup with Heeseung. Why risk getting close to someone again when you’d be forced to be in the same workspace? No one promises to keep a permanent spot in your life, and it was a sentiment you were growing accustomed to. Sunoo was no exception to this rule. You’ve barely interacted. Ever. Nothing more than a simple head nod or raised coffee in acknowledgment has passed between you two. Now, you feel like you need to reach out, rub his arm comfortingly, maybe even offer to take him out to lunch where the two of you can freely be irrationally angry and bitter together. Really, it's just that if you were him, (and you basically are in this situation), you'd want someone to be there for you. Being alone in the midst of a breakup this painful is like soaking a paper cut in lemon juice.

So, stepping out of your comfort zone, you decide to do just what you'd want someone to do for you.

"Let's get lunch together," you blurt out before you’re able to mentally talk yourself out of it.

Albeit slightly confused, Sunoo smiles and kindly accepts your lunch offer. Your body finally relaxes a bit more, relieved with the promise of companionship after so long trying to force isolation on yourself.

"And then he said, 'You're a little too much to handle sometimes.' Who fucking says that!" You yell over the bustle and noise of the restaurant, voice muffled by the decent amount of food still in your mouth.

"He said that? About you?" Sunoo scoffs, throwing his fork down onto his plate and throwing his body back against the seat cushion. "You definitely don't seem like the type to be described as "too much to handle". I'm insulted on your behalf!"

"Thank! You!" You can't help but raise your voice as you throw down your fork as well, the utensil clattering against the now clean plate. "I can't believe Karina gave you such a stupid reason for dumping you. Who just says, 'We were too attached and I need to learn how to be my own person.' then goes around and is immediately in a super clingy relationship? I don't get it. Plus, in my own personal opinion, I wouldn’t have described you guys as too attached. I don’t think I even saw you guys kiss in public. Which makes this thing with Heeseung even more ridiculous!"

Expecting a fiery response, Sunoo surprises you by staying silent. His shoulders drop as he stares into his half-eaten chocolate cheesecake. The intense, angry emotions surging in your own veins quickly simmers down seeing how truly upset and defeated he looks in front of you.

"Hey," you say softly and dip your head down, trying to make eye contact, your hand naturally falling on top of one of his own, "don't worry about them. What she told you was bullshit and does not define who you are as a person. It’s clearly not the real reason she broke up with you. You seem like a great guy and she's going to have to live the rest of her life knowing she let you go." You see a faint smile finally grow on his face, making you smile in return.

"Thanks, Y/n. I wish I was as strong as you are. I wish I could just be angry and secure with myself. But ever since she left…I don’t know. I feel like a hollow shell, like I’m just going through the motions. Everything feels foreign to me now." He sighs and leans one elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand as he breaks up pieces of his cake, not making any motions to actually eat it.

You think about what to say and how honest you want to be. You've only just really started talking with him and talking about your feelings and insecurities has never been easy for you to do. Which was exactly one of the reasons Heeseung claimed during his breakup speech.

And fuck that guy. You can be emotionally vulnerable anytime you want.

"I'm not as tough as I'm making it seem," you admit slowly, "It honestly hurts so much it feels like I can't breathe sometimes, you know? I really thought I had opened up to him, really thought I had someone who loved me truly for who I was…I thought he saw the real me. A part of me almost feels violated knowing how much he knows about me but he just walks around pretending I’m a stranger." You can't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "Don't give them the power to determine your self-worth, okay? We'll get through this together. You're stuck with me now!"

Sunoo looks up and smiles softly at you. Genuinely, you believe that you'll be able to make it through this. And it doesn't hurt having someone else here to understand what you're going through. And maybe, because of your newfound friendship, you’ll be able to get through it faster.

Finally going back to eating his cake with small, intentional bites, Sunoo thinks thoughtfully for a moment, his head tilted in a curious fashion.

"Do you think-," he starts but pauses, scrunching up his mouth to one side as he ponders over what to say. Sighing and looking down once again, he softly says, "Do you think they cheated on us?"

It's a sentence that instantly gives you chills, freezing you in place for a moment because no, you didn't think that, the thought never occurred to you in the first place. Despite how mad you were at Heeseung, he didn't seem like the type to cheat. Plus, the entire time you were being broken up with, Heeseung was throwing out everything you were doing wrong in the relationship and that alone was hard enough to wrap your brain around. Unless that was some tactic of his to deflect onto you and make you believe you were the bad guy instead of him. Now that the thought is in your head, you can't help but rethink situations you may have looked over, arguments that seemed random and sudden, and accusations that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Like the late nights leading up to the breakup, Heeseung stepping out of the room when he got phone calls- something he never used to do before, not asking you to read his texts out loud anymore, and canceling plans with you due to all the new “extra work responsibilities” that suddenly fell into his lap. These things were out of character- yes. But you didn't think twice about it because it just seemed like something everyone did in the midst of a rough patch in a relationship. And, from the bottom of your heart, you believed anything and everything Heeseung said to you. Because what would he gain from lying and manipulating you?

Or maybe your subconscious just couldn't handle it at the time.

"She acted differently...in the end. I just wasn't sure if you knew something I didn’t."

"No," you shake your head, "the thought honestly never crossed my mind. But now that you mention it, he acted differently in the end too."

For a good, heart-bursting moment, you both sit there in silence. You're not sure what's worse: the blinding anger or the heart-wrenching poignancy.

"This is stupid!" Sunoo finally breaks the silence, his fists firmly planting onto the table as he stands, making you jump in surprise. "We didn't do anything wrong! Why are we the ones who have to be sad and cry into delicious cheesecake? They should be the ones crying into a creamy dessert feeling bad about themselves!"

You can't help but laugh. And once you start, it's hard to stop. The entire situation still doesn't feel real to you, so what else can you do except clutch at your ribs as all the air in your body is used to push out this bubbling laughter? Sunoo laughs with you, sitting back down and scooping up the remaining bites of his cheesecake.

"It really is dumb." You finally manage to choke out the words, the giggles slowly dying out between you two. "I wish there was some way to make them feel what we're feeling right now."

Mouth full of food, Sunoo offers a muddled "Isn’t revenge...ya know...bad?"

Reaching for a napkin, you pause and stare at the lines in the fabric, an idea sparking in your mind. Slowly sliding the napkin over to your new friend who accepts it gladly, patting the material along the outside of his mouth. Feeling safe and reassured in Sunoo’s presence, you decide to continue to be bold today and think out loud.

"What if we went to that Valentine's Day party they're hosting?"

Gasping on instinct, Sunoo accidentally inhales part of his cake, spiraling him into a coughing fit. "You want to what? I thought we agreed in the carride here that it would be a terrible idea to go!"

Smiling devilishly, you wait for Sunoo to notice the mischievous glint in your eyes, for him to see that your idea goes beyond just simply attending.

"What have you got planned?" He asks carefully, but there’s a spark in his eyes.

Quirking up one of your shoulders, you play with your fork, spinning the utensil slowly against the point of your finger. "Let's go...together." It was hard trying to appear so casual, mysterious, and nonchalant when all you wanted to do was shout out your idea and jump around the room like a child.

"I'm honestly such a bad guesser and I'm way too intrigued, but at the same time I'm not stupid enough to fall for the casual 'let's go together' so please tell me what you have brewing in that devilish mind of yours, Y/n, please."

Sunoo's excited impatience and flair for the dramatics will definitely make this idea of yours even more…pleasurable.

Dropping the fork, you look around the restaurant before leaning in, as if some spy could be around waiting to obtain all your secrets. Beckoning Sunoo to do the same, he follows suit, leaning towards you until you can see the tiny flakes of freckles painted across his cheekbones.

A smile blooms across your face slowly, courage finally rooting into your chest. "Okay. So, here's the plan..."

The next few days go by so fast it's been hard to fully enjoy the festivities.

And by festivities, of course you mean the fun going on between you and Sunoo.

The office has become so much more enjoyable now that Sunoo is in your life. Every day you come into work wearing one of his sports jackets, graciously draping it on the back of your chair for display after he politely pulls out your seat for you. And every day, after pushing in your chair, Sunoo leaves you a quick, yet passionate kiss on the top of your head, to which you always end up looking up at him with pure joy.

It didn't take long for you two to become the talk of the office.

Like a wave of wildfire, everyone began wondering just when you and Sunoo got together, if it was serious, a playful situation, just how far things have gone. You never paid much attention to office gossip before, but you never would have dreamed it was as juicy as this. Being in the spotlight was never your thing, but this was completely different. It felt different at least.This was all under your control for once, and it’s something you wouldn’t mind getting used to.

Walking around the office with a new wave of confidence feels empowering in a way you haven’t experienced before. Seeing Heeseung's jaw drop to the floor when he sees you, clearly not registering that it was you at first, tastes even more delicious.

It's true. Along with the new relationship, you switched up your wardrobe as well. Oh, and getting a new haircut after a million years of avoiding the salon definitely gave you that extra umph that you needed. And, let’s face it, moving on after being mercilessly dumped isn’t official until you do something with your hair.

"You look..." Sunoo whistles as he not so discreetly eyes you up and down, biting his bottom lip as he does so. "Amazing." Very quickly you see some heads pop out from their cubicles out of your peripheral vision. It makes your smile all the more genuine.

Acting like you think the two of you are all alone in the office lobby, you giggle and lean into Sunoo. "Thank you for buying this outfit for me. It fits me in all the right places." You wink and pull at his tie slightly, turning around and walking away with it slipping through your fingers.

All of the heads quickly return to their computer screens, pretending to not have heard or seen a single thing.

It’s almost too easy.

Heeseung's cubicle is near the front of the lobby with yours and Sunoos around the middle of the floorplan. Without a doubt, Heeseung's head had to have been one of the ones who was watching you just now.

Gliding across the floor with Sunoo quickly following behind you, your heels click delightfully against the tile floor. In a split minute decision, instead of trying to discreetly glance into Heeseung's cubicle like you initially wanted to, you decide to turn back towards Sunoo and reach for his hand, giggling all along the way as you focus on him and only him.

Sunoo grasps your hand tightly in his, his free hand pocketed in his tightly fit slacks. You weren't the only one with the wardrobe upgrade. If you're being completely honest, he won the makeover competition. Your new partner in crime has left behind his cute blonde locks and now sports chic raven black hair, his bangs framing his face in a way that makes his deep amber brown eyes stand out more so than ever before. And to think he used to cover those sweet irises with hazel contacts…you really hope he’s thrown them out, honestly. Sunoo looks like a completely different person now, and yet, he seems more like himself than ever before. His smile is soft yet confident, his gaze fond as he watches you pull him to his cubicle.

It baffles you that this is the same Sunoo who's been sitting behind you for all these years.

Throwing out the cheap, stiff, button up collared shirts, Sunoo now adorns some fancy name brand sweaters, sporks jackets, and silk button-ups: all items you thrifted with him during your weekend spent scheming together. He looks like a million bucks and ever since the makeover he's been getting attention from strangers in every place he’s walked into, rightfully so. You’ve also gotten your fair share of head turns and whistles from folks on the street and each one only adds more fire to your steps.

It's been a confidence boost for the both of you, to say the least.

Once you're near your own desks, Sunoo holds onto your fingers instead of letting you go, pulling you quickly back into him so fast that your hand automatically flutters against the swell of his chest while he holds you tightly.

"I'll miss you," he mutters softly for only you to hear, bringing up your hand and kissing your knuckles before guiding you to your chair to do his usual routine. Chills dance across your skin as your mind panics for a moment, briefly forgetting that this is all for show.

None of it is real.

"I'll miss you more," you recover with a purr. Then, for good measure, ditching the nervousness echoing in the back of your mind, you let out a louder Shhh! noise followed by an array of giggles, pretending that Sunoo has just whispered something not very office appropriate into your ear, resulting in immediate whispers surrounding your not so private cubicle space. Exactly what you wanted. You let your finger linger down Sunoo’s chest, stopping just above his belt line. You swivel your chair around to face your screen, logging on without giving him a second glance. Unbeknownst to you, Sunoo lingers in the middle of the hallway staring after you with a mixed, unreadable expression.

This was going all too smoothly.

Throughout the days you and Sunoo manage to find ample time to grossly flirt with one another around the office. One of your favorite hobbies now was deciding where exactly you wanted to meet up and get a little frisky.

Your favorite spot by far is easily the copy room, however cliche it may be. Having Sunoo pressed up against your body as his lips roam your neck, your back either against the copy machine itself or the counter just adjacent to it, it was all too much fun.

Like today, for instance, things might have gotten a little too out of hand.

Sunoo's hands roam your body from your hips all the way up to your shoulders as he murmurs things too quietly for you to even understand. Well, let’s be honest, it’s definitely not necessarily because they were too quiet, but because you were so distracted by just how electrifying his touch feels against your skin. It was never meant to be this serious. A touch here, a kiss there, outward flirting and such. But now you're starting to think it's becoming more of a game between the two of you instead of your typical fake dating office romance you set up to make your ex's jealous.

Technically, you didn't need to start this game so early before the party: it's only a week away now. You were way too eager to put your plan into action, and that meant sacrificing the workplace and those that worked around you, subjecting them all to your very sickening over the top displays of affection.

And perhaps a smidge of your own sanity has also been sacrificed within the mix but you’re not ready to admit that just yet.

You don't even remember why you were in the copy room to begin with. Usually, you try to plan it so either Heeseung or Karina walks in. Lately, it's been everyone but.

Your breath becomes heavier as Sunoo's tongue swipes up along the backside of your ear, a little spot he quickly finds brings out some not so safe for work sounds from you.

Wanting so desperately to enjoy the attention your body is getting, you can't help but fight against the bliss. You're losing sight of the plan ahead. And you can't help but notice just how naturally you're starting to respond to Sunoo's antics.

"Sunoo!" You gasp, glancing at the clock above his head, not realizing just how hot and heavy it was getting between you two. "I think we need to cool it a little bit. We've been in here for fifteen minutes now and no one has even come close to this room."

He chuckles under his breath against your neck, a slow, deep raspy sound that hums along your skin in a way that makes you shudder. "Sorry. Seems I got carried away."

Without hesitation, he backs away from you and you can't deny that your first thought is how much you want him back, to continue to feel his touch against your skin. The way he bites his bottom lip while staring at your own slightly smudged lipstick stained ones has your heart fluttering inside your chest. A whirlwind of confused thoughts tornado rampantly inside your mind as you watch him clear his throat, the raspy voice filled with depth and lust now gone, his casual and naturally cheery voice returning.

"I'm thinking we came on too strong. Now everyone is afraid of being around us." Sunoo ponders outwardly, a finger slowly tapping against his chin as he glances through the small window on the door. How the hell is he able to be so sexy and passionate one minute and easily go back to acting like nothing happened?

Gulping, you clutch your arms to your chest, suddenly feeling cold without Sunoo next to you. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we can get back to work, there’s plenty of time for more shenanigans later.” He winks and walks out of the room, leaving you wondering just when did he become so carefree and confident meanwhile you’ve become meek and insecure.

A spur of the moment shopping spree sprung upon you and Sunoo the night before the Valentine's Day party. After all the scheming and planning, the one thing you forgot to plan for was what you would be wearing for the event; thus blossoming said scheming and planning. Even when you both upgraded your wardrobes before, it was all simple business casual outfits for the office, not night out, attention grabbing attire.

Sunoo calls you in a panic, words blurring together through the phone as you try to make out what he's trying to say. Eventually, you're able to put two and two together.

"Holy shit we forgot our party outfits!" You exclaim dumbfoundedly.

So, that's how you got here – sprinting down isles with your hands out batting against the edges of the clothes with a large excited grin on your face. Some of the fabrics feel soft against your fingertips as the wind blows through your hair. As you look over to Sunoo, you can't help but to smile more, not even noticing the gross feeling of old velvet pants sticking against the groove of your fingertips. Any other day, your body would have recoiled in disgust. But somehow, staring into Sunoo's earthy brown eyes, everything has become manageable.

As the night continues and fashion show after fashion show occurs, you start to think about how you look at and feel around Sunoo. He's doing everything he can to stay positive in this miserable situation you've both been thrown into, and yet, you find yourself comforted in his presence. While comforting is the best word to describe it, it's also starting to become…confusing. Why does your stomach flip when you catch him looking at you? Why has he become the first person you think of when you wake up and the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep? Is it possible he could be thinking the same about you? It's definitely not an appropriate time for you to jump back into a relationship. Come to think of it, you barely know much about the guy other than what you two share in relationship baggage.

The rest of the night you seem to move in slow motion, caught up in your thoughts and not really feeling present in the moment anymore. You catch Sunoo sneaking glances at you and it seems he's trying extra hard to be funny with all the ridiculous outfits he's put together, only feeling satisfied and moving on after getting a genuine smile on your face or hearing you chuckle softly.

"How about this!" Sunoo jumps out of the dressing room with arms wide open, wearing a bright green feathered boa hanging loosely off his shoulders, red and yellow vertical striped pants, and a shirt that definitely could have belonged to a middle-aged man who loved to go fishing every weekend. All you can really muster is a soft stare, your eyes not quite focusing on the ridiculous clown outfit in front of you. There's a certain disconnection you feel with yourself even though it feels like you should be happy, almost like a large rain cloud is augmenting over your head.

"You didn't even try to smile this time," Sunoo’s entire demeanor softens instantly, the performance mask he was trying to put on for you slipping away. He walks towards the loveseat you're sitting on and joins you, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours, "what's on your mind?"

Not exactly ready to admit your confused feelings about him, if there are even feelings there at all, you decide to talk about the only other thing that’s been disturbing your thoughts: Heeseung.

You let out a quiet sigh, gaze dropping to your hands that are resting in your lap, “I just wish it were easier, you know? Moving on…”

Sunoo huffs and juts out his bottom lip sympathetically, quickly coming to your rescue by wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You let him console you, lowering your head onto his chest as he rubs comforting circles on the side of your arm, the smell of his cologne tickling your nose in a pleasant way.

“It’s okay. I’ve been having a hard time getting over Karina too. It seems that no matter how hard I try, my mind always drifts back to her. I still don’t really understand how she could just jump into a relationship with Heeseung and be in love so quickly. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you think they could be faking too? Like us?” The words come tumbling past your lips before you can properly process them, your stomach turning and twisting into all sorts of complicated knots. Why would you and Sunoo get dumped only for them to rub it in your face on purpose? None of it really makes sense.

“I’m not sure,” Sunoo sighs, still rubbing his hand up and down your arm, “I honestly wouldn’t put it past Karina to do it. There were more than a handful of times when we’d be around a bunch of people and she’d be all over me, couldn’t leave my side, doting and praising me more than I knew how to handle. Then, when we’d get home, she’d want her space and do her own thing, pushing me away even at the smallest contact. It was super weird and messed with my head for a bit,” Sunoo sighs and rests his head on top of yours, pulling you closer, “I think she just needs everyone to see how loved she is. I don’t know. She has her own insecurities she still needs to deal with I guess.”

Nodding your head into Sunoo’s chest, you also reflect on the way Heeseung treated you when you were in front of other people versus how he treated you at home. And you can’t really think of an obvious difference. PDA was never within his comfort zone, but he’d still hold your hand and kiss you in front of people. He was an amazing boyfriend to you up until the moments near the end when he slowly started withdrawing. Seeing him be so over the top with someone new, especially in front of coworkers, has definitely been a culture shock, but you just wrote it off as people acting differently depending on who they’re with. Which is totally normal, right?

“Sometimes it’s nice to think that they want to see us upset, doesn’t it?” Sunoo smiles and pats your head teasingly, standing up and offering a hand out to you. “Kinda shows us that we mean a whole lot more to them than they’re willing to admit. C’mon. Let’s find you a killer outfit and show Heeseung exactly what he’s missing.”

“Sunoo. Has anyone ever told you that you could have a career in fashion?”

You keep staring at yourself in the mirror, looking at every angle possible of the attire you have on. Sunoo picked out everything himself, more than proving that his taste is far beyond more exquisite than all of your project runway knowledge and late night TikTok haul compilations combined. Right away in the thrift store, he commanded that blue is the only color he wants to see you in, none of that typical pink or red Valentine’s Day bullshit. “We need to stand out in all the best and worst of ways. Plus, blue is one thousand percent your color.” He had said to you, reassuring you along the way that he’ll find something for you both to match in.

And he was absolutely right. Blue is most definitely your color. The way it brings out the natural shine in your hair and even that small spark in your eyes, you’ve never been so confident with just a shade before.

The style of the dress itself is something you would expect to see in an over chic event after party with just enough elegance to make it eye-catching and eye-ogling worthy; pools of tool and fabric cascade down your legs, a long slit going up until your mid-thigh. The top half of the dress is strapless and slightly exposing your cleavage a little too well, the swell of your breasts swaying with every breath you take, yet still snugly in place. You protested heavily on the dress in the store, it needed more than a little TLC with some rips and tears in the skirt and some stains on the front. But Sunoo had insisted and told you he had a plan in mind, all you had to do was trust him.

In less than two hours after leaving the store, Sunoo had successfully stitched and sewed his way to a beautiful masterpiece. You couldn’t even tell this was the same dress he had picked out in the thrift store.

Fondly, he smiles at you as he looks at what he’s created, a hint of blush dusting over his cheeks as he softly admits that, while he was growing up, his mother and older sister would make their own clothes to save some money. Naturally, Sunoo picked up on what they had learned and actively participated alongside them.

“One year, for my mother’s birthday, my sister and I both worked on this really grand dress that matched the one on her childhood doll. It took us nearly three months to make. I had never seen my mom ugly cry before until that moment. I remember her hugging my sister and I so tightly I almost passed out!” He chuckles lightly, fingers ghosting along the fabric of your dress as he thinks back on the memory, but his smile slips, just for a moment. “I used to be made fun of for this stuff, but nothing feels as good as seeing someone’s face light up when they put on something you’ve made. It’s the same face you have on right now actually.” He stands up from his kneeling position and taps the underside of your chin lightly with his thumb. Goosebumps ripple across your skin and you can’t help but turn your gaze away from him, afraid of what your eyes might give away.

Finally regaining your composure, you turn and smile back at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of comfort between the two of you. The warmth from his words and the soft smile on his face is something you’re not quite used to; your connection seems to run deeper than you were ultimately expecting it to be. And you like the feeling of it.

“I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they make fun of you,” you say boldly, hands on your hips for emphasis.

Sunoo throws a pillow at your back, the both of you laughing like old high school best friends.

Pacing back and forth in your living room, you can’t help but consider that it’s a strong possibility you might have been stood up. Sunoo said he would be at your apartment a good hour or two before the party started at 7pm so you could help each other get ready, hyped, and mentally prepared for the night ahead. It’s currently 6:48pm.

Right now you are definitely not ready. You are definitely not hyped.

Glancing at the clock on your phone only makes you more anxious as you fight the urge to call him for the fourteenth time. The party has started by now and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. It’s not like you wanted to go to the dumb party anyways. Making an appearance was supposed to be a fun way to get under Heeseung’s skin, prove to him that you didn’t lose the breakup, that you weren’t a depressed mess who couldn’t show her face on the day of love.

This didn’t seem in character for Sunoo. Unless, you dreadfully think, you said something that offended him. You stumble towards your couch, sitting down promptly and burying your face in your hands. Maybe he caught a whiff of your little crush on him. Or maybe he just couldn’t bear to see Karina on such a romantic holiday night clinging to her new fling. Your thoughts are spiraling out of control, vision blurring as the tears finally start to spill. You take off your heels in a defeated huff, tempting the idea of shucking them into the neighbor's shrubs to get them completely out of your presence.

All you can muster is another defeated glance at your window, heels still in one hand, and laugh to yourself when all you can see is the flickering street lights momentarily illuminating a very drab and empty street. This is what you get, huh? You wanted revenge and karma did not feel like taking its time in giving you exactly what you deserve.

Thoughts of Heeseung and Karina slow dancing under paper hearts spinning on a string from the ceiling leaves you feeling emptier than ever before.

As a large teardrop drips down your cheek, bright headlights shine into your window. Your front door is slightly ajar; your hopeless attempts at letting Sunoo know he was welcome to let himself in. All it did, though, was let in an icy draft, the cold air clawing at your skin.

Sunoo steps out of his car with a bright smile that quickly falters as soon as he sees you through the window, head hanging low and slowly brushing the back of your hand under your eyes.

“Y/n?” Sunoo pushes the front door open and rushes over to you. He’s wearing his blue suit, the one he picked out to match yours, and he looks so damn good it makes you want to cry even more. His hair is styled so that part of his forehead is showing and his face is glowing, almost dewy from his pristine skin care routine. You try to meet his gaze confidently, desperate to push your feelings to the side. But, as soon as you see the way his eyes look at you with concern, emotions overtake you and the tears flow more consistently before you’re able to even attempt to swallow them down.

“Are you okay? Oh, Y/n what’s wrong? What happened?” Sunoo sits next to you and pulls your head to his chest, wrapping one arm around the back of your shoulders while the other one wraps around the front of your body. You clutch your hands to your face, embarrassed beyond belief that you’re sobbing on Valentine’s Day in front of your fake date of the night.

You think about mentioning Heeseung and Karina, or the fact that you really don’t want to go to this party anymore. Instead, what softly comes out is, “I thought you weren’t going to show up…”

Pushing you back slowly so he can see your face, Sunoo takes your hands gently in his own, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles while he looks into your tear filled eyes. “I would never leave you behind.”

It feels like your heart plummets down a ten-story building and all you want to do is melt into him.

Continuing before you have the chance to get ahead of yourself and do something you regret, Sunoo unknowingly interrupts your thoughts, “Did my texts not go through? I said we got the time mixed up. The party starts at eight, not seven. I also stopped by to get you this-” He looks around at the ground beside him for a moment, then motions for you to hold on while he trots back to his car.

“Close your eyes!” He yells while laughing his way back through the doorway. You wipe your eyes one last time before placing your hands over them.

You hear his footsteps on the carpet as he gets closer. It’s probably some flowers, a corsage even, something basic and traditional to the holiday that everyone’s fake date thinks of getting them before they attempt to make their ex’s jealous.

There’s movement on the top of your head and a tickling feeling against your neck that makes you flinch, nearly opening your eyes before being stopped by Sunoo. “It’s just me, hold on.” He places something on your head, adjusting it and fixing your hair.

“Perfect!” He steps back. “Go ahead. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, you remove your hands from your face and look around. Sunoo is standing in front of you holding a small compact mirror. Leaning forward, you look until you can see your reflection and the small, shiny pendant nestled around your neck.

“I saw it on my way over here in some small shop window. I just had to get it for you. It really brings your whole outfit together! – And your eyes.” He whispers the last part. Sunoo’s smile is big and warm, rendering you speechless. But that doesn’t stop you from opening your mouth to at least make an attempt to express your gratitude .

“No need to thank me!” Sunoo puts the compact mirror in his pants pocket, reaching for your hand to pull you up from the couch. “Seeing everyone’s reaction to how amazing you look is all the thanks I need.”

A couple minutes are spent assisting you with getting your makeup back in place and adjusting your hair; Sunoo works tentatively with a type of care and attention to detail you’ve never seen from a man before. He murmurs a flourish of praises and compliments, all ones that have you feeling giddy and shy.

Once everything is in order, he walks you to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you, assisting with your dress to make sure not a single string of fabric gets caught.

“Thank you, Sunoo,” you whisper just before he closes the door. There’s a shine behind his eyes as he nods his head softly, his smile still unwavering.

A nice intense pep talk goes down in Sunoo’s car before you’re both able to walk up to the office hand in hand. You had thought you would be a shaking mess of nerves, but instead, it’s Sunoo’s hand that clutches yours tightly, a slight murmur disrupting his cool demeanor.

All of the office desks have been pushed against one wall with cupid cutouts and (as you predicted earlier) paper hearts hanging from the ceiling. A red light is cast throughout the room giving it a nice sultry feel as light music plays over the speakers. You never realized just how big the office space actually was until seeing everything cleared out the way it is now. Easily seventy or so people could fit in here for a party. Instead, there’s only about thirty of you.

Everything looked so magical, and yet, it feels oddly…prom-like.

You and Sunoo are fashionably late (as planned in the pep talk), so as soon as the front door opens with a loud sha-shunk sound, all eyes are on you two.

“Game on.” You smirk, feeling as ready as ever. Utilizing your nerves as a strength instead of weakness, you hold your head high, keeping your gaze soft while you look at Sunoo.

“Sunoo! Y/n!” Karina’s usual peppy voice wavers over the music as her wide eyes scans your bodies. “You’re here!” There’s a hint of a question in her tone, her eyes narrowing now.

The crowd parts slightly, leaving a space so Heeseung and Karina can greet you at the front door.

“Oh, we just couldn’t miss the party of the century!” You laugh, clinging to Sunoo’s upper arm.

“The chance to show off this beautiful lady? Wouldn’t pass that up for anything!” Sunoo is saying this in response to Karina, but his eyes are only on you. He gives you a wink for good measure, leaning in slightly until the tips of your noses touch. It’s easy to smile at his antics, forgetting for a moment that this is supposed to be pretend.

“Yeah, like anyone would describe Y/n as a party person,” Heeseung quips with a scoff. Your eyebrows furrow, glancing over to your ex for the first time.

You can’t deny how great he looks in his pastel pink suit that perfectly matches Karina’s revealing party dress. It accents every curve of his muscles in his arms, his suit jacket draping on his wide shoulders with ease and flare. Heeseung’s face is flushed with what has to be the effects of alcohol, his cheeks and nose lightly dusted with pink. You can’t help but remember the moments you would drink together, giggling as you leaned into each other’s bodies. Whispered promises would pass between the two of you between karaoke songs and midnight snacks; all small yet meaningful memories you thought you had successfully buried a while ago.

This might be harder than you were expecting.

“You never really were the type of person to be able to think on their feet, huh, Heeseung?” You chuckle knowing that he really was trying to hurt your feelings in front of everyone. Heeseung glowers at you, his lips a fine, thin line.

Karina looks like she wants to say something, but instead grabs Heeseung’s elbow and turns him around, heading back to the middle of the dance floor.

Without looking, you and Sunoo give each other a satisfactory low-five.

“So, snacks? Drinks? Or dance floor?” Sunoo asks.

“Oh, definitely snacks. I see a bowl of chips calling my name!” You not so graciously speed walk over to said bowl and pick it up, cradling it the same way one would a newborn baby. Sunoo picks up a large pink cupcake and runs his finger around the frosting, sucking on the digit slowly as he observes the crowd before him. (somewhere in another universe Sunghoon starts shaking)

Turning to crowdwatch with him, you recoil at the sight before you: Karina is bent forward slightly, wiggling her ass against Heeseung’s crotch. The co-workers around them cheer, raising their glasses as they continue to jump to the music. Heeseung doesn’t even look slightly embarrassed, a smug smile plastered on his face while he dances along.

“You know, if I would have even dropped low like that to pick up a can of soup or something that fell on the floor, he’d hide his face in shame,” you say with a mouthful of chips.

Sunoo scoffs, shoving the remainder of the cupcake into his mouth. “Ehdgeeut.”

“I bet we could out dance them,” you say more confidently than you actually feel. Without waiting for Sunoo’s response, you grab his sticky cupcake hand and drag him to the dance floor.

Relaxing as much as you can, you try to empty your mind of all fears and doubts and mimic what you’ve seen in movies and music videos, using Sunoo more as a prop than an actual dance partner when you grab his shoulders and move your hands down his body.

At first, no one notices you two. But as more co-workers break to grab refreshments, they come back and form a crowd around you two instead of mindlessly migrating back to Heeseung and Karina.

And eventually, that left the pair without an audience to flaunt in front of.

Sunoo is getting more and more into the movements, confidence and ease dripping throughout his aura. It’s beautiful watching him smile and enjoy himself, not even noticing the people around him. It definitely helps you feel more comfortable in the spotlight as well. Pulling you closer, Sunoo lifts up one of your legs and hooks it at his hip, one of his hands roaming up your thigh sensually slow. Your heart races as his face gets closer to your own, both your foreheads connecting and it feels like you’re breathing the same air with the way the warmth of his breath ghosts over your lips.

At this point, you know Heeseung and Karina are watching you. The heat of their gaze shooting like daggers at your back is hard to ignore.

The song ends right as Sunoo pulls you closer and kisses you. It isn’t like any of the fake, playful kisses you’ve exchanged in the office previously. This one is laced with something sweet and earnest, a want you can’t even begin to explain. Everything fades away in the background – the music, the crowd, Heeseung. Melting into Sunoo’s kiss is all your body wants to focus on.

And you don’t want to stop kissing him. You don’t want this feeling to end.

“Get a room!” Someone yells from the back, the crowd erupting into laughter as some shield their eyes away from you.

“Maybe we will,” Sunoo huffs, his eyes darkened by his dilated pupils. It’s a look you haven’t seen from him before, but you don’t have time to process it. Hastily grabbing your hand, you’re both running out of the room and into one of the office hallways.

And as you run, you catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s wide, regretful eyes, his shoulders sagging into his suit jacket.

Quite the victory if you’ve ever seen one.

Giggles and shuffling feet is all you can hear throughout the hallway, you and Sunoo carelessly stumbling against each other while you try to walk, stopping here and there to aggressively makeout. The cool air is barely noticeable against the warm touches from Sunoo's hands around your body. Each time his skin presses against yours it leaves a ripple of warmth throughout your body, so much so that it feels like you'll never be cold again. Something you wouldn’t mind giving up if it meant being able to stay like this forever. Is this what it feels like to let someone back in again? Or are you just excited by the attention? Could this really go beyond your unwritten pact?

Your hands grasp the edges of his suit firmly as you momentarily take control, pushing him carefully against the wall so you can kiss him again. Sunoo smiles into the kiss, chuckling deep from his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. His lips are soft and familiar now and it's become a little too easy to get lost in them.

At times like this, you forget this is supposed to be pretend.

Pushing those thoughts away, you continue to dive in.

These kisses start to feel different than the ones from before. Originally, they were nothing more than quick pecks, not even two seconds long at their most intense. Now, they're slow, both of your lips molding together in slow, heated motion, giving you plenty of time to let your hands roam with minds of their own. Your bodies start to connect like puzzle pieces, like the way your hip naturally leans into his or the way your chest rises up flush against his own. Every time Sunoo's tongue barely sneaks past the edges of his mouth sends a warm chill that blooms deep in your chest, rippling until you feel it in the tips of your fingers. You almost want to sigh in relief the way one would sigh when sinking into a nice warm bath after a long day.

Heeseung never kissed you like this.

Slow and steady turns into fast and desperate. All of a sudden what you're getting is just not enough. And it seems you’re not the only one feeling this way. Sunoo pulls at the fabric of your dress, guiding you away from the wall so he can lead you into one of the conference rooms, the very conference room Heeseung and Karina will be coming up to in order to exchange Valentine's Day gifts according to what their flyers said at least.

You can't help but wonder if this was done on purpose, or just a cruel coincidence.

Once you're past the threshold, Sunoo's in control. He breaks apart the kiss and turns you around, lightly pushing the small of your back until standing next to the conference table. His hands find your hips again, pushing you further until you’re leaning against the table now. His hands continue moving up and down your body for a moment, hesitating before boldly moving up to your breasts and squeezing lightly.

"Is this okay?" He murmurs, hiding his face with a kiss on your neck, just under your ear as he massages your chest.

It felt more than okay. Your mind is turning into white static with the built-up attention. Heeseung never asked you if this was okay, always just acting first, thinking later. Hearing the nervous yet caring words from Sunoo ignites a fire inside you that you weren't away was waiting to be lit.

Composure slipping, you fight back a moan that forms in your throat when he squeezes your chest a little more aggressively than before. "Mhmm yeah, this is okay." Chuckling, you let your eyes flutter shut, somehow making the experience even more enjoyable this way.

Wasting no time, Sunoo shucks off his suit jacket in one clean motion, tossing it aside carelessly and diving back into your lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you moan against his lips, pulling at his button up shirt, “off.”

Groaning with a pouted smile, Sunoo breaks away and slowly starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Are you punishing me now?” You laugh, already missing the feeling of him on your skin.

“I can go slower than this,” he plays, the tip of his tongue poking past the side of his lips. His fingers start to move slower as he glares at you through his bangs. It’s a devilishly hot look, one that makes you gulp, suddenly feeling a bit like a prey being observed by a predator.

Normally you wouldn’t mind a little strip tease or the build of anticipation. But right now, you’re anxious to get him back on you. The longer he stands there in front of you, the more your mind starts to overthink, and you want nothing more than to not think for once and just do.

Sunoo is only halfway down his shirt, gaze still flirting and testing. The more loose his shirt becomes, the more enticing it is to just grab a fistful of it and pull him closer.

And so you do.

You take his now loose tie into your fist and pull him close, his face now inches from yours. Sunoo’s breathing is heavy, his chest moving up and down almost as quick as your heart is beating.

You move in like you’re about to kiss him, but stop short just as your lips barely brush against his.

“I don’t like playing games,” you whisper, showing your teeth as you smile.

“Funny,” Sunoo murmurs back, grabbing onto your hips and flipping you around until your ass is flushed against his crotch, his tie still laced between your fingers, “Didn’t seem that way when you asked me to play along with your little scheme.”

All you can manage is a soft sigh, allowing yourself to relax against his body and letting his tie slip past your fingers, grinding your hips against his hardening length.

This is all a game, you remind yourself. Or, at least, it started out as one.

Sunoo unzips the back of your dress, leaving a trail of kisses against your skin along the way. If there is a world record for the most amount of times a person has shuddered with chills in the span of ten seconds, well, you would have beaten that record by a mile.

And although you enjoy each kiss and each touch, it’s all going far too slow.

Using what goods you have in the back, you push out with enough force to back Sunoo up a step. It was just enough for you to be able to spin around to face him and drop your dress to your feet.

“Wow,” Sunoo gasps, “you are absolutely beautiful.” His eyes roam over your body without hesitation, not even remotely shy when they land on your chest, appreciating the very sexy lace bra you bought just for today.

“Thanks,” you raise an eyebrow confidently, a playful smirk adorning your lips, “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”

Without question, Sunoo moves to undo his belt, still moving rather slowly as he unbuttons his pants.

Your eyes follow his hands as they move back up his legs. Eyeing his frontal area, you’re surprised to see that he isn’t hard yet like you thought he was, his boxers completely smooth and tentless.

You try not to show your disappointment, but Sunoo notices right away.

Bashfully, he grips the back of his neck with one hand, looking down and apologizing. “I’m just kind of nervous is all.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! I was just a little surprised! If you’re not ready we don’t have to do anything.” It suddenly feels very cold in this room, the weight of something unspoken hanging eerily around you.

Sunoo smiles again, this time more innocently than before, “I want to. Trust me.”

Closing the distance between you two, you kiss him on the lips slowly, an invitation for him to take the lead.

It doesn’t take him nearly as long as you had anticipated.

Sunoo’s mouth moves feverishly against yours, that fire instantly igniting back between your two bodies. His hand grips the side of your neck gently, his thumb resting just behind your jawline. It isn’t until your fingernails trail the edge of his spine that his grip hardens slightly, taking your breath away.

Sunoo’s free hand moves to your back to unclasp your bra, doing so in an impressive one try. His hand is instantly on one of your breasts, massaging them roughly. It’s a sharp contrast to how he was touching you earlier, not like you really mind.

That is all the touch you need before you’re ready for him. Your arousal is impossible to ignore at this point, feeling the way your panties stick uncomfortably to your skin. No more buildup is needed.

Your thumb slips past the hem of his boxers, pulling them down and away from his skin. Sunoo steps out of them now completely naked before you. As you continue to kiss, you can’t help but chance a peek at what he has lying below.

And what he has does not disappoint.

“Wow!” You gasp, “Karina left you for Heeseung? No wonder she seems more high strung than usual.”

Laughing in surprise, Sunoo stops his ministrations and rests his head on your shoulder in embarrassment. His erection pokes at your thigh teasingly, enough to make you feel dizzy all over again.

“And then you,” he returns softly, “Karina may be pretty, but she’s also flatter than a piece of cardboard. You?” He whistles and manages to bring his head back up, eyeing you up and down while biting his bottom lip.

“He’s stupid,” Sunoo concludes.

“And she’s an idiot.” You smile.

“Enough about them,” Sunoo takes both of his hands and grasps your panties right below your navel. With one swift motion, he rips the fabric in two and is moving you back to the table, back to the original position you were in, “this is about us.”

There’s no time to appreciate just how incredibly sexy that was of him. In his hand, Sunoo shows a condom he must have pulled out of his pocket earlier. You honestly don’t remember seeing him do it, but you nod your head quickly up and down. Taking it between his teeth, Sunoo rips the plastic and promptly places the condom on the tip of his cock, unrolling it carefully. Your thighs tingle with anticipation, your body yearning to be filled by him.

Spreading your legs out so that your feet rest on the tops of the neighboring chairs, you nod your head once more for Sunoo. He awkwardly brushes his tip against your clit, making you wince at the sudden contact. Apologizing under his breath, Sunoo continues to gather your slick, coating the condom before lining himself up to your hole.

Slowly, he inches the tip of his cock inside.

Sunoo’s arms are placed on either side of your hips and you use his stance to grip his biceps, holding on for dear life as you try to mentally prepare for the massiveness that’s entering your body.

Sunoo guides his cock up and down your folds just once before diving right in.

The stretch is absolutely delicious, immediately your eyes roll back with bliss. He’s only able to get inside of you a quarter of the way before he slides back out, repeating the process until he’s able to inch further and further, deeper and deeper. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to bottom out in you. But if you’ve learned anything from this time you’ve spent with Sunoo, it’s that this man is determined.

One final thrust and it feels like he’s pushing straight through your G-spot.

You’re out of breath as you cling to him more aggressively, not able to even comprehend what it would feel like for him to pound into you with everything he’s got if this is how it feels to just have him slowly push into you.

Sunoo searches for your mouth, planting a long, deep kiss on your lips as he slowly starts to rock his hips back and forth. There’s a tense hunger from his lips that you try to match, but the pleasure you’re feeling down below is distracting your every thought.

After a few moments pass, the strong build-up you initially felt seems to simmer out.

Despite the intense need for one another, there's something between you and Sunoo that's different from what you had with Heeseung, something missing: spark.

The thought hits you. Hard. So much so that it stuns you into a motionless blob. In retrospect, it isn't even that big of a revelation, but it's enough to put some ease on your mind and brings you some much needed clarity. Despite how much you wanted this, despite how good it feels, it also unintentionally feels…weird.

"Y/n. Are you okay?" Tentatively, Sunoo stops for a moment and makes sure to meet your eyes.

Opening your mouth to respond, instead of words an eruption of laughter takes over you growing gradually until your entire body shakes with it. You clasp your hands over your mouth to try to contain it, but it only seems to worsen the giggles.

"I'm so sorry, Sunoo," you finally manage, "I just realized— I don't think…” you take a deep breath, ignoring the screaming voice in your head telling you to shut up, “I don’t think I like you in this way."

There's a moment where Sunoo and you both look down at where your body's currently connected and intertwined and for a second you're afraid that you've hurt his feelings or possibly even offended him.

He inhales slowly, releasing the air quickly soon after with an 'ahhh' sound. "Oh thank god! I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I started to realize the same thing a few minutes ago."

Laughter bubbles from your throat naturally, your lips vibrating as you try to hold it in. But, it’s no use. Sunoo sees you laughing and he can’t help but do the same.

“We should probably get out of here before we make an even bigger fool of ourselves. We can get Chinese? Hang out at my place and talk and watch a movie? I feel like we should talk.”

You’re about to verbally agree when a blinding light interrupts your thoughts.

“Oh my god!” A squeaky voice trills by the doorway, echoing throughout the room.

You and Sunoo freeze in place; he hasn’t even had the chance to remove his cock from your cunt.

The intense drowning feeling consumes you as your vision finally comes to focus. At the doorway are Heeseung and Karina.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice cracks in disbelief at the sight in front of him, eyes wide with shock.

Panic sets in. How stupid was this idea? Who thought you should go to a work party, strip naked, and start having sex with one of your coworkers on the table in one of the conference rooms just to get back at your ex boyfriend?

If it were just Heeseung and Karina, your embarrassment would still be there, but at a much more containable and manageable amount.

The entire office staff on the other hand...you were not prepared for that.

“Everyone leave!” Heeseung yells, turning his back to you and ushering the other coworkers away. As he’s doing so, Sunoo slips out of you, running over to where your clothes were discarded and throwing them at you with haste as he rushes to dress the lower half of himself.

Your arms feel numb as you pull your dress over your head, not even bothering with your bra or ripped panties.

Heeseung returns and closes the door. Karina is covering her eyes, her back turned to you and Sunoo slightly as she’s muttering something to herself. Her perfect black hair cascades into a curtain to shield her eyes from your nakedness.

“This is going to sound so cliche,” Sunoo starts after too many seconds of awkward silence pass between the four of you, “but this is not what it looks like.”

Karina makes an abundance of gibberish sounds with an aghast look on her face before finally blurting out, “Look like what? Like you weren’t caught having sex with each other?! Geez, Sunoo! We knew you guys were all over each other but I thought you had enough decency to keep that stuff in the bedroom!” She puts her palms out towards you both and shakes them before turning away once again with her head down, shaking it in disbelief.

“That’s the thing! It’s complicated!” You shout, desperately trying to zip up the back of your dress by yourself but failing.

“Were you or were you not just having sex?” Heeseung says sternly, looking directly at you like a disappointed father. You give up the fight with the zipper and sit down in one of the chairs behind you. It’s you he wants the response from, you can tell by the fact that he hasn’t given Sunoo a single glance.

“Yes, but-”

“Then that’s the answer, Y/n. We get it!” Heeseung turns to Karina and gives her a gross affectionate kiss on the cheek that makes you quirk up an eyebrow in confusion. “You guys are jealous of the love we found and you didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day. So, naturally, you turned to each other! But did you really have to embarrass yourselves in some disorganized attempt to get back at us? Just be together in the privacy of your homes, no need to throw it in our faces.”

Sunoo looks at you, and you at him, once again neither of you being able to look at each other seriously and you both start to laugh, yet again.

“That’s rich coming from you!” You almost slap your knee unironically.

“And…we aren’t actually seeing each other.” Sunoo leans against the wall so casually, his composure now under control. You wonder where this confidence has come from. Either way, it looks good on him.

If it weren’t Sunoo, you wouldn’t be so calm about confessing your conniving plans of fake dating. The way he’s so casually laughing and accepting the fact that you were both caught helps ease the anxieties you know you would have felt. And in this moment you realize why he’s not upset and why he’s not embarrassed: he’s finally moving on from Karina.

And, you guess, the same thing is happening to you with Heeseung.

“We faked it all,” you smile genuinely, “Of course we were upset when you guys got together, but honestly for myself, I would have had an easier time moving on if you two weren’t constantly shoving your love down everyone’s throats.”

“We’re surprised you haven’t been in a hallmark movie yet,” Sunoo adds.

“Exactly! It’s borderline overacting.” Pointing at Sunoo as he nods his head, you relax even more.

Heeseung and Karina stare at the two of you, stunned on an entirely new level. Looks like you and Sunoo are the first to tell them how gross and obnoxious their PDA has been.

Karina looks at Sunoo with a weird glint in her eyes, one that makes you instantly suspicious of what she’s about to say.

“Sunoo, let’s get out of here,” you suggest before she even has the chance to speak. “I may not be in love with you romantically, but I think it’s safe to say we’re pretty great friends now. And as your new friend, I suggest we blow this popsicle stand and run off together into the sunset!” You jump up quickly and hold out your arm for him to take.

“I agree completely, Y/n!” Sunoo jumps with just as much fervor as you and gladly takes your arm.

As the two of you start to skip past a dumbstruck pair of exes, you pause before Heeseung and boop the tip of his nose playfully. “Take care now. We’ll see you on Monday!” You wink and continue on with Sunoo.

Deep down, you’d give anything to go back in there and explain the situation entirely with your ex, to have one last heart to heart and really see just what’s going through his head and to get some sort of closure. But you know it’s not healthy to act that way anymore. It’s better to move on and enjoy the day with your newfound friend. So what if you’re single this Valentine’s Day? At least you get to be single with Sunoo.

Later that night, as Spongebob plays in the background of Sunoo’s living room, you look around at all the empty Chinese takeout boxes and at Sunoo passed out on his side of the couch, and you realize for the first time you feel genuinely at peace. Sure, you know it’s going to take some time to fully get over Heeseung, but at the end of the day, you might have gained more than you lost.

With a friend like Sunoo by your side through it all, though, you know it won’t be so bad.

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