#and ultimately a lot of makeup sex

[cookinguptales]

I'm dying, I had another fandom breakup several years ago where I also poured my frustration into a deeply pornographic fic.

The main differences are:

different fandom, obviously

this was actually one of the last fics I ever wrote for that fandom, it really was a kiss off. the only fics I posted after it were just me finishing up some prior obligations.

I actually wrote it and posted it, as opposed to the pornographic vent fic I was writing for wwdits that I set aside for now.

I APPARENTLY POSTED IT TO TUMBLR FIRST?

I know this because someone just reblogged it (and said some really kind things, thank you ;;) and I had completely forgotten that I'd been so deep in my fit of pique that I was like "well this is vent fic that I wrote to cope with my frustration towards canon, not REAL fic, so I should post it to tumblr, not AO3."

At first I was just laughing over the sheer timing of it all, someone digging up this ancient post with like 25 notes from many years ago the exact same week that I'm having angst over the fandom I replaced the old one with, but then I actually clicked on the post in my notifications and was like.

wait.

did I.... post a sixteen-thousand-word fic to tumblr?

I DID. AND PEOPLE READ IT??? like that's the fucking wild part, that people were willing to sit down and read a fucking sixteen-thousand-word fic under a read more on tumblr. people were so strong back then.

(thankfully, I was convinced to crosspost it to AO3 a few days later, which actually made the fucker readable.)

the sheer ridiculousness of my tantrum (and my weird internal classification for what fic "deserved" to be on AO3 vs. what should just quietly be forgotten on tumblr) has me laughing. which I think was actually kind of needed, haha. we all need to laugh at our own fandom angst sometimes.

if I do end up finishing and posting the wwdits ventfic, I promise I'll actually post it on AO3. lmao

[rafeandonlyrafe]

handlebars

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, male and female receiving oral, face fucking, golf, rafe calling reader slut and whore but lovingly lol, established relationship, female masturbation kinda, bit of a dom/sub relationship but really its just rafes personality, semi public sex

“princess.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as you're sat at your vanity, dabbing some blush onto your cheeks.

“mhm?” you tilt your head up, allowing rafe to press a kiss to your lips, not used to feeling your kiss without lipgloss, the next step in your makeup routine.

“if you're good for me and don't complain about being bored today, ill let you suck me off on the green.”

“really?” you squeal, turning to get a better look at rafe.

“yeah.” rafe nods. “but no complaining while we are golfing. topper will be joining me so you gotta wait until after we are done.”

“im gonna be so good rafey, promise.”

“i know you will, good girl.” rafe bends to give you another kiss. “finish getting ready, im gonna go load my clubs into the car.”

“mkay.” you nod. “love you, handsome.”

“i know you do, baby.” rafe smirks before leaving the room.

you turn back to your mirror, quickly finishing your makeup before getting an idea.

you part your hair down the middle before tying them into pigtails on either side, adding a pink ribbon around either hair tie, pulling a couple strands out to frame your face.

you skip down the stairs, dressed in your favorite golfing outfit. despite never playing and just watching rafe, you love to dress the part, wearing a tight white athletic tank top and a flouncy pink skirt, so short it shows off your matching pink underwear way too easily with just the slightest bend of your hips.

“shit.” rafe smiles up at you. “can't wait to strip those clothes off you later.”

“why thank you baby.” you give a twirl, showing off your outfit to rafe, knowing the ultimate compliment on your clothing is to tell you how much he wants to rip them off of you.

“im gonna have to kill top if he even looks at you with your tits out like this.” rafes arms wrap around your waist to pull you tightly against his front, lifting your feet up off the ground.

you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing sticky kisses and leaving pink gloss behind as rafe carries you outside, placing you in his passenger seat that has become yours, your name even added in rhinestones to the sun visor next to the mirror.

you hum along to rafes music and cycle between looking out the window and looking over at rafe as he drives, the muscles on his arms defining his every turn on the way to the country club.

“oh, there's toppers truck.” you point as rafe pulls into the parking lot, grumbling something about you knowing what his truck looks like before pulling into a spot.

you wait for rafe to walk around to open your door, helping you step down and keeping your hands held tight together as he grabs his clubs and slings them over one shoulder.

“hi topper.” you smile as you see him sat in a cart, quickly moving to the back as you approach.

“hey rafe.” topper says, completely ignoring your hello, but you know it's not due to being rude.

“no complaining, remember.” rafe says as you slide along the bench seat, making sure not to move too far so your thigh touches rafes as he gets in to drive.

“i remember.” you nod. “i will definitely not complain when i get really really super bored.”

rafe shakes his head, an unwilling smile growing on his face as he drops one hand down to your thigh, squeezing it so tightly you almost cry out before he releases and puts the cart into drive, speeding towards the first hole.

--

“i was so good, wasn’t i?” you turn your head to the side to look at rafe as he drops topper back at the parking lot.

“i mean, you started complaining when we played 18 holes instead of 9.” rafe tsks.

“okay, but only for like a second before i remembered! come on rafe,” you lean over him, placing your hand on his chest, fingers ghosting up and down to entice him. “don’t you want me to suck you off?”

“of course i do.” rafe captures your lips in a kiss, tugging you closer to his side as he takes off again, navigating the course to an isolated spot.

“finally.” you move to your knees on the cart, watching as rafe stands and walks to the passenger side of the cart, keeping his back towards the main part of the club just in case anyone comes by. 

you reach forward, tugging on rafe shorts, undoing the zipper and button and pulling the sides of his pants apart. you reach into his pants and pull his cock out from his underwear, already starting to harden.

“i love it when i get my mouth on you and you’re still soft.” you press kisses along his length, feeling it grow under your lips before placing the head of his cock into his mouth, swiping your tongue over the slit.

“you’re such a whore.” rafe laughs. “dressed up like a slut and now you’re acting like it too.” 

you just nod, not willing to take your mouth off his cock just to acknowledge how much of a slut you are for him. you both already know what the truth is. 

rafe hardens in your mouth as you begin to move your head up and down, building up a slow pace that allows you to enjoy the taste of his skin, tongue sliding along the underside of his length.

“faster, baby.” rafe taps your cheek.

you pull off and frown up at him. “let me enjoy sucking you off. you said you’d let me.” 

“yeah but i wanna see what you can do. impress me.” 

the challenge from rafe works immediately as you wrap your lips around his cock, head bobbing up and down a lot quicker now as you build up tolerance in your throat, rafes length and girth too much to take him all the way down immediately.

“that's my girl.” rafe smiles down at you. “doing so good baby.”

you take a deep breath through your nose and move forward, pushing your nose into rafes shirt as you swallow around his length, resisting the urge to smile as you hear rafe moan.

“fuck.” 

you squeeze your eyes shut, determined to keep his cock all the way down your throat for as long as you can.

“god, you just keep getting better at this darling.”

you pull off and drop your head to cough before smiling up at rafe. “wanna fuck my mouth now?”

rafe leans down to kiss your forehead. “im gonna put a ring on your finger one day baby, i swear.”

“you better.” you know you're still young, but you can't wait for the day you can call yourself mrs. cameron.

rafe straightens back up, smearing the head of his cock over your mouth, coating your lips in a second layer of gloss.

rafe grabs onto your pigtails as your mouth opens, keeping your throat as slack as you can as his hips push forward.

rafe moves your head in unison with his thrusts, fingers knotting around the pink ribbon to keep his grip.

you have to reach forward and place your hands on his thighs to keep from falling forward, your knees no doubt turning bright red as they scrape back and forth with the power of his movements.

rafe doesn't bother holding back his moans as he tugs on your pigtails, hips undulating and rocking, hoping he's far enough from anyone else to hear his groans and gasps of your name.

“next will be your pussy.” rafe smirks down at you. “as soon as we get home im getting in that delicious little cunt of yours.”

you moan around his cock, thighs squeezing together as you think of all the times rafes been inside of you.

rafe tugs your pigtails, holding them like handlebars on a bike as his cock grows in your mouth. he wishes he could go for longer, to fuck your mouth for hours, but the thought of getting home to your pussy makes him too excited to hold himself back.

“gonna cum right down your throat.” rafe says, grunting as his hips speed up. “unless you want me to paint your pretty face for everyone to see.”

you moan again, the sound vibrating around rafes cock as your hand drops to your pussy, pressing over your underwear to give your clit some relief.

“you like that huh?” rafe questions. “want everyone at the country club to see my cum dripping down your face?”

you push your hand under your panties, rubbing at your wetness, a finger plunging into your heat.

“hey, cut that out.” rafe tugs on your pigtails. “you can rub your clit but don't open up your cunt for me. that's my job.”

you groan but move your fingers back to your clit, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing.

“don't worry, bunny.” rafe pats your cheek. “you'll be bouncing on something soon enough.”

rafe moans as your tongue flicks over the underside of his length, throat constricting as you swallow along his cock.

“fuck, close.” rafe warns, pumping his hips forward with renounced speed. 

rafes cock swells in your mouth and there's mere seconds before he releases, cum spurting down your throat.

“fuck!” he moans, giving one last thrust before pulling out.

you take a deep breath, hand still moving on your pussy as rafe breaths deeply, checking over his shoulder before tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

“stop that.” rafe hums, eyes dropping to between your legs.

“im so close.” you whine, keeping your fingers thrumming over your clit.

“yeah, and i wanna be the one to make you cum so stop.”

rafe picks you up and places your bum on the seat, frowning when he sees your knees. he presses kisses to each of the red splotches.

rafe pushes your thighs open next, pulling your hand out of your underwear as he tugs them to the side.

you didn't expect rafe to surge forward, mouth greedily eating your cunt, slurping on your wetness.

“fuck!” you squeal, head falling back as he focuses in on your clit, sucking with the taste of you on his tongue, sticking it out to flick over your clit.

“im- im gonna cum!” you warn, fingers tangling in his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt.

his mouth keeps working as you reach your high, moaning out rafes name as your clit pulses against his tongue.

he moves lower to press against your entrance, briefly dipping in. “gonna fuck you so soon.” he whispers, and you swear it's more to your cunt than it is to you.

“shit.” you fall back against the seat as rafe rearranges you, flinching when his hand brushes against your clit while putting your panties back in place.

“better not be sensitive by the time we get home.” rafe says, flipping your skirt back down to cover you before he shrugs. “or be sensitive, im fucking you either way.”

“you're such a dick.” you giggle as rafe drops his head to kiss you, lips melting together, the shared taste on your tongue mixing.

“love you.” he says. “future wifey. you give the best head.”

“wow, thanks.” you roll your eyes sarcastically, hands moving to your pigtails as rafe rounds the cart to drive back.

“you know, you really messed up my hair.” you frown, attempting to fix your bows without a mirror to look in.

“yeah, you can't wear that style again.” rafe looks over at you. “unless you want me to fuck your face every time.”

“well…” you tap your chin, a smile growing.

[pynkfairyheart]

Hii I was wondering if you could do an collage au armin arlert oneshot, imagine or Drabble (totally up to you) where armin is a very popular soccer player at the college and since he’s so popular that causes him not have as much time for his gf so she catches an attitude and ignores him and he fixes it ifykyk. I was thinking more of like a dominant or switch armin for this yk?

pairings: soccer!player Armin x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, a lil angsty, orgasm denial, car sex

a/n: i love this request, armin is just so ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

Ms. Attitude

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up later. I love you, bye” The monotone beep of the phone soon followed his hurried voice informing you he ended the call before you could even breathe.

“Yep, I love you too” You mumbled. Glossy eyes scanning the hair and makeup you spent hours on.

This was the second time Armin failed to show up for your date.

Soccer season was picking up and with Armin being the captain you understood you'd no longer be able to spend as much time due to practice, but the frequent outings with his team members were becoming infuriating.

Was it that hard for him to plan around your date nights?

With a deep breath, you soaked a cotton pad in makeup remover. Too exhausted to even take pictures before the excess liquid on the pad mixed with your stray tears. It was rare for you to cry over a guy, even rarer to cry over Armin, but the disappointment was turning into frustration that was too overbearing to contain.

What made things worse is that you felt it wasn't fair to Armin you were having these feelings.

You knew what you were entering into when you said yes to being his girlfriend. He told you his goals from the start; become captain, graduate with a 4.0, play professionally, and ultimately make it to the World Cup.

Of course, you knew achieving all he wanted would take time, and you wholeheartedly supported him.

To maintain a healthy relationship you two had a system. Once a week, you would set aside time for a date. It didn't need to be elaborate or fancy; the simple goal was for you to spend time alone. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Something Armin didn’t take into account with the new season was the influx of freshmen on the team. This meant lots of bonding time with the team and less time with you.

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was a week before you saw Armin. Granted it wasn't on purpose and you just happened to catch a glimpse of him from across the crowded room, but you saw him nonetheless.

The events on how you approached him are a little cloudy, your actions encouraged by the shots you took and your anger. The only true remembrance was Sasha’s attempt to make you stay and the snickers from certain teammates who could predict what was about to happen.

“What the actual fuck, Armin.” You huffed

“Baby? What’s wrong?” His smile disappearing at the pout settled onto your face

You were baffled, was he actually serious?

“What’s wrong is that I haven't seen you in three weeks all because of your little bonding outings. Which this does not seem like bonding” A mixture of frustration and hurt fueling your emotions as you motioned to the party

“I know how this looks, baby but I swear we just got caught up after practice, sit with us I promise to make it up to you- Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Nothing pissed Armin off more than when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes! You've said the same thing every week Armin, you're like a fucking broken record and it's actually pissing me off”

“I'm pissing you off?” The indifferent tone of his voice and minuscule smirk on his face should have told you to stop and think but you were just too upset to think.

“Isn't that what I just said” Your iris slightly disappearing as you rolled your eyes once again.

He’d been waiting for it.

Many people knew Armin to be the passionate sweetheart he was. It was rare to see him upset. That emotion reserved for whenever his team got a foul and occasionally whenever you gave him attitude.

Before you could even register what he was doing he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the party

That little eye roll ended up with you in the backseat of his car, legs on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

“Minniee, pleaseee” You whined, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the pleasure building in your lower stomach

“You wanted my attention right? So stop fucking complaining and hold it like I said” His hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you with every thrust.

You were certain stars were blurring your vision. He was just stretching you out so well, the girth and the angle he was at leaving no spot along your walls untouched with how deep he was.

Just looking and hearing the whines that slipped passed your lips made him want to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Just looking at you had him on the brink of a second orgasm.

You just looked so pretty to him. Bouncing breasts no longer confined by the tight shirt you wore, hardened nipples glossy from his previous sucking. Don't even get him started with your teary eyes and glossy lips.

What really got him though was the way your puffy cunt surrounded him. Folds so warm and wet with your slick and his cum that your walls failed to contain.

Armin however didn’t reward bad behavior, especially yours. Maybe he’d let you cum if you whined enough, but who knows. For now, he’d continue to use you for his own pleasure as he pounded into you.

“What's wrong princess? Isn't this what you wanted? Caught an attitude just to get fucked like a slut” He hissed, blonde strands sticking to his forehead as he increased his pace.

“I’m sorry, Minnie, please. I just missed you” You spoke through your broken moans and cries

Leaning down he encaptured your lips, his pace slowing as the guilt seeped into him, oh how he wanted nothing but to go back and spend that time with you.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make time for us, I mean it this time” His voice coming out in a whisper as he kissed along your neck

“Y-yeah? “ Speech broken by the newfound pleasure as he applied pressure to your clit

“Mhm, as long as you stop with that fucking attitude” Within that second the soft and caring Armin was gone and now replaced with the Armin whose only goal was to make you feel pleasure

You were so close, every rock of his hips hitting your spot so perfectly you were seeing stars and begging to cum but he kept denying you over and over. His responses consisting of “Be my good girl and hold it” or “You want it so badly don’t you?” a condescending pout resting on his pink lips every time

It was only when he grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs up against your chest that he allowed you to cum, pace becoming sloppy as he watched you cream around him, basking in the way every contraction of your cunt added to the milky ring around his base.

The feeling of you clenching around him, the sight of your closed eyes and slightly agape mouth as you came, it was too much for him to handle as spurts of his milky cum forced its way into your stuffed cunt.

“That's my girl” He mumbled. Smirking at the cum spilling from your hole the moment he pulled out

It was only when you felt his hands spreading your legs apart and his tongue plunging into you that you opened your eyes.

“Armin” You shrieked

“Mmm, relax, baby. I've got three weeks' worth of orgasms to get from you.”

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Imagine reader putting on pheromone perfume before going on a date with bf!Logan but they never made it out the door bc he got his freak on 💋💋

Godddddddd the thoughts this gave me. Explicit content under the thread. Minors dni. F!reader, P in v, unprotected sex, Logan is feral asf for his girl

He could never say not to you, no matter how much he disliked it. You could make him do anything by just batting your eyelashes at him and smiling. He had such a weak spot for you. So here he was, a nice black button-shirt replacing his usual flannel-undershirt combo. He was sighing, glancing at his watch every two minutes. You had been so adamant about going to this new restaurant that opened in town, and yet you were taking your sweet ass time.

“Darlin’, cmon you’ve been in there for like three hours.” He called out to you, impatiently tapping his fingers on his arms as he crossed them over his chest.

“You can wait two minutes Logan!” You shouted back from the bathroom as you applied the finishing touches. Your hair looked so soft and bouncy, your lips were the perfect shade of your favorite lipstick. Just one more thing.

You had bought this new perfume after your friend had told you about it, she swore it was like magic. You didn’t truly believe the pheromones in the formula would do a whole lot, but at least it smelled divine. You gave your neck two, three and four sprays, followed by your pressure points on your wrists. And with one final look of yourself in the mirror, you were happily leaving the bathroom to join your man.

Logan instantly whipped his head in the direction of the bathroom, a strange, unknown yet pleasant smell suddenly filling his nose. He scrunched up his nose in confusion as he tried to figure out just what the fuck this sudden aroma was. And then you came out of the bathroom, as pretty as ever—he thought. And then it dawned on him. That unknown smell was you. Blood rushed to his face and his heart raced as more and more of that sweet smelled filled his nose as you oh so unbothered walked up to him, a sweet smile on your face. By the time you were in front of him, his pupils were completely dilated, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tried his best to control his primal urges.

“I’m ready.” You smiled, completely unaware of just how mad he was going over this new perfume of yours. The sweet scent mixing oh so deliciously with yours. He said nothing as he leaned down, his cheek pressing against your jaw as he took in the scent closer, straight from the source. The growl that rumbled in his throat was animalistic at best.

“Fuck dinner.” Was all he murmured into your soft skin before he was pressing you against the nearest flat surface—a wall.

You had little time to protest, with his mouth claiming yours and all. His hand reached under your dress, scrunching it up to your waist. He tugged at your panties and it took little force for the flimsy fabric to rip at the hip. Logan was unbothered by this as he ran his fingers through your slit. You were breathless, panting as you protested but you were ultimately giving into his plush lips and the delicious feeling of his fingers.

One of your legs was thrown over his shoulder, the other barely touching the floor due to his tall height as he held your by your hips. Your sweet moans were in his ear as he pressed his face into your neck, sharp canines leaving marks on the skin as he split you open with his cock. You still didn’t know what caused him to completely lose control like this. You’d expected him to end the night this way, but not before you even left out the door.

The mess of your mixed releases was dripping down your thighs, heels long forgotten somewhere on the floor. You wished you had taken pictures of your pretty makeup before it was ruined. Black residue of mascara and eyeliner stained your cheeks, your perfect lipstick stained your face, and Logan’s. And don’t even mention your hair. What a mess.

“Was it the dress?” You eventually asked in a quiet voice, your chest still heaving as you looked at him with blurry eyes. He chucked, glancing down to look at your pretty dress. It was a new one. He ultimately shook his head lightly as he gently set you down on your feet.

“It was your perfume actually.” He chuckled, pressing his nose to your jaw to give your soft skin one more inhale as he held you against him. “Is it new?”

You snorted. Well guess the pheromones did work after all. “Yeah, it has like pheromones or some shit.”

Logan pulled his face back to look at you and his eyebrows were pulled into a frown, “what now?”

“Yeah, like you know, pheromones. It’s supposed to be sexy or something.” You shrugged, pursing your lips into an innocent expression. Logan groaned.

“Fuck.” He laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he was hoisting you up around his waste to take you to the bathroom. “I’ll take you to that dumb restaurant tomorrow, yeah? Just couldn’t help myself.”

“You better.” You huffed playfully as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just don’t wear that shit again. Unless you want me bend you over the nearest surface.”

You smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[https-lvesick]

RUNAWAY BRIDE ★ huang renjun

summary . . ♡ Just weeks before your wedding, doubts begin to creep in, and on the big day, you panic and make a break for it. Desperate and still in your bridal gown, you flag down a passing car driven by a friendly stranger. He offers to take you to safety, but what starts as a temporary stop turns into something much more. As you hide from the life you left behind, feelings grow, and the lovely stranger finds he doesn’t want you to leave.

pairing . . ♡ renjun x rich girl!reader

word count . . ♡ 23k

genre . . ♡ fluff, angst, smut, strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight

content . . ♡ family issues, renjun is downbad since day one, reader used to be a good girl, but now she's a big girl, mentions of jeno x reader (briefly), minhyuk and hajoon are assholes the whole time, jealous renjun, other nct members and idols make appearance.

smut content . . ♡ a lot of kissing, unprotected sex, masturbation (both), fingering, cum eating, cunnilingus, humping, fellatio, reader compares renjun with minhyuk but in a good way, (mentions of) multiple rounds.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for the thousandth time. Your eyes traced every detail—the flawless hairstyle, the delicate diamond tiara, the long white dress with intricate lace sleeves, and the impeccable makeup. Pride swelled within you for reaching this milestone, for taking the first step in building your future family. But why? Why did you feel so heavy with dread? Why did every thought of a future with your fiancé fill you with unease instead of joy?

The door creaked open, and one of your bridesmaids—your best friend—entered the room. Her radiant smile was contagious, filled with pride and warmth. It almost made you believe in the illusion of a blissful future. Because this was the right thing to do.

Wasn’t it?

"Here’s your bouquet..." she said, placing the bundle of crimson roses in your hands. Red roses, the ultimate symbol of love, carefully adorned with tiny diamonds nestled between the blooms. Joy beamed with excitement, far more emotional than you felt. Her eyes drifted to your trembling hands, interpreting it as a case of perfectly reasonable wedding jitters.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, taking your hands in hers. You inhaled deeply, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

"Nervous," you admitted with a weak, insincere smile. Everything about this moment felt like a facade. "My heart’s racing faster than one of Sung’s monologues."

She chuckled, and for a fleeting second, the tension eased. Was the rapid beat of your heart merely pre-wedding anxiety? Or was it doubt?

"That’s perfectly normal," Joy reassured, her tone as light as if describing a fairytale. "I felt exactly the same on my wedding day. Trust me, the nerves disappear the moment you say ‘I do’ and seal it with a kiss."

For her, this was magic. It was supposed to be for you, too. You had always dreamed of this moment—finding the perfect man, getting married, building a life together, a house filled with love, children, the happiness you grew up surrounded by. You had always wanted to create that for yourself.

While Joy hums your favorite song, her voice light and soothing as she glides—almost dances—around the room, tidying up stray objects, you glance at the mirror once more. A deep breath fills your lungs as you close your eyes, trying to conjure a vision of a happy future with Minhyuk. But it’s the same as before: not the image of a fulfilled life, but of an unhappy woman trapped in her own story. Now, though, even that vision is gone. It’s as if... there is nothing after the ‘I do.’

Your eyes flutter open. Joy, still twirling around the room with a smile on her face, sings in that melodic voice that always brings you peace. You stare at your reflection again, knowing there’s still a chance—one fleeting chance—to make the right choice.

"Joy?" you call softly. Her attention snaps to you instantly, her warmth as comforting as always. "Could you get me some water? I think these nerves are really getting to me..." Your voice trembles just enough, sounding perfectly fragile—exactly like the version of yourself everyone expects. Joy giggles at your tone, unaware of anything unusual.

"Of course," she says cheerfully, excusing herself before slipping out the door.

You draw another deep breath, your heart thudding in your chest.

Better to regret doing too much than to regret doing nothing at all.

The words echo in your mind as you pull off your heels and set them aside. You remove the diamond tiara, placing it on the chair with care. Then, with your pulse racing, you open the door that leads to the garden where the celebration waits.

The moment your bare feet touch the grass, you run.

You run as fast as you can, ignoring the weight of the dress pulling you down, ignoring the stinging thoughts of what people will think, ignoring the consequences that tomorrow will bring. All that matters is getting out—escaping the cage before it locks you in forever.

When Joy returns to find the door ajar, the tiara and heels abandoned, the crystal glass slips from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Fear flashes across her face—fear of the uproar your family will unleash when they realize what’s happened. But she doesn’t chase after you. She lets you go.

"I hope you know what you’re doing..." Joy whispers to herself. She laughs in disbelief, shaking her head. She waits a moment, giving herself just enough time before putting on the perfect mask of panic for when the news breaks—the bride is gone.

It takes longer than you'd like to escape the mansion grounds, and even longer before anyone realizes the bride is missing. Minhyuk stands in stunned silence at first, refusing to believe it’s true. Then anger overtakes him, his fury mirrored by your father, whose mind is already racing with ways to punish you for disgracing the family.

When you finally reach the street, your legs burn and your lungs ache. You stop to catch your breath, heart pounding in your chest, knowing that by now, everyone is searching for you. The security team must already be mobilized. Finding you will be easy—too easy. After all, a bride running through the streets of Los Angeles isn’t exactly inconspicuous.

You take off again, pushing your legs to move faster, weaving through traffic, not waiting for the light to turn. The inevitable happens—a car screeches to a halt, clipping your side just enough to send you stumbling. The driver’s face is as terrified as yours.

“Help me,” you murmur, voice trembling as your eyes lock with his.

For a moment, he hesitates, his eyes darting between you and the road as horns blare and angry drivers shout behind him. His decision comes fast.

"Get in!" he shouts, leaning out of the window.

Without thinking, you yank open the door of the white car and slide into the back seat. The man wastes no time—the car surges forward as he presses the gas.

You finally exhale, eyes closing as a rush of emotions floods you. Tears begin to fall, quiet and unstoppable. The adrenaline still courses through your veins, but your mind clears just enough to fill with the images you’ve been running from—the glares of your parents, the disappointment of your former in-laws, the fury in Minhyuk’s eyes, and even the hurt expression of your brother.

You might be disowned. You might be cast out and cut off from your family forever.

But you refused to surrender your life to anyone else’s plans.

“Miss?” you hear the man call softly. Your eyes flutter open, and for a brief second, you meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. Then, you catch sight of your own reflection—your makeup mostly intact, though streaked with tears. You wipe them away with trembling hands, but they keep falling.

“Yes?” you respond, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes linger on you, filled with concern.

“Do you have somewhere I can take you?”

You pause, thinking. A hotel is out of the question—you have no money on you. Going back home is impossible—it’s ground zero for everyone you’re running from. And all of your friends? They’re at the wedding.

“No…” you mumble, shame creeping into your voice. Your eyes drop to your lap, fingers fidgeting nervously. “Just… please, get me far away from here. Anywhere. I’ll figure it out.”

You can feel his pity, an emotion so palpable it wraps around you like a heavy blanket. You don’t want to meet his gaze again—you already know what’s written in it. But how could you blame him? How could anyone leave a distraught woman in a wedding dress stranded in the middle of nowhere?

He sighs quietly, his voice careful but resolute. “Alright. How about this—I’ll take you to my place. You can shower, calm down, and maybe… call someone. Does that sound okay?”

Relief washes over you, and with no better options in mind, you nod. “Okay.”

He glances at you in the mirror again, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Renjun, by the way.”

Despite everything, you manage a weak smile in return. “I’m…” You introduce yourself, your name feeling strange on your tongue, like a part of a life you just left behind.

The thought of making that call, of confronting the fallout from your grand escape, churns your stomach. But you push it aside. You can’t afford to think about it now. Instead, you stay quiet, unsure if Renjun wants to talk. You clutch your hands tightly together, focusing on the blur of the city outside, each passing streetlight pulling you further from a life you no longer wanted.

The drive felt agonizingly slow, each second stretching like an eternity. The upbeat song playing on the radio only made the suffocating tension worse. Renjun tried changing the station a few times, but nothing seemed to fit the mood, so he turned it off altogether—which only made the silence heavier. He wrestled with indecision, unsure whether to break the quiet and attempt a conversation to ease your discomfort or leave you alone with your tears. Never in his life did he imagine finding himself in this situation: a bride in distress, heartbroken and crying, in the backseat of his car.

As his car turned into a quiet suburban street, your teary gaze lifted. You took in the picturesque neighborhood with wide eyes. The houses stood in perfect uniformity, a row of identical designs—slate-gray siding, black-shingled roofs, and bright white doors and windows. It was nothing like what you were used to. The garage door opened with a soft hum, and Renjun pulled into the driveway, parking with precision.

“We’re here,” he said gently, turning the key to cut the engine. His eyes flicked back to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded, wordlessly stepping out of the car, feeling the cool pavement under your bare feet as you followed him inside.

With every step into his house, a sharp pain flared in your left foot. You ignored it. After all, you had just sprinted a marathon barefoot to escape a nightmare.

The scent of clean linen and fresh pine filled the air, wrapping you in an unexpected calm. The place was spotless, impeccably organized—a serene contrast to the storm inside you.

“I’ll grab something for you to wear,” Renjun offered kindly. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You sat on the pale, plush sofa, your feet dangling as you swayed them back and forth. But as the stillness settled over you once more, the weight of everything returned. The tears you had momentarily paused came rushing back, and the sorrow sat heavy in your chest, pressing down like an unforgiving hand.

Back at the mansion where the wedding was supposed to take place, chaos reigned. Tension hung thick in the air as your father stormed through the grand hall, his fury palpable. The rest of your family shared in his anger, but your brother remained the calmest, quietly observing the fallout. Your friends stood uncertain, hopeful that there might be a rational explanation for your sudden disappearance.

The guests had long departed, murmuring whispers of scandal and speculation as they left. Even Minhyuk and his family were gone, their pride wounded. Your phone had rung incessantly until one of your bridesmaids, Arin, noticed it—along with all your personal belongings—left behind in the bridal suite. The search for you began in earnest: through the garden, under the canopy of the gazebo, even into the winding hedges of the labyrinth. But there was no trace of you. Frustrated, your father ordered the security team to comb the streets.

“I will not rest until that ungrateful girl is back in this house!” he roared, his face red with rage as he shoved aside anyone offering comfort.

“Dad, blowing up like this isn’t going to help anything,” your brother Jungwoo said, folding his arms with a resigned sigh. He had seen this spectacle before and was already half out the door.

“If you’re not going to help, Jungwoo, then leave,” their father snapped, gesturing dismissively.

“As if I haven’t thought of that already,” Jungwoo muttered under his breath. Turning to face him fully, he added, “And don’t bother calling the police. She wasn’t kidnapped. She’s a grown woman making her own choices. The police won’t do anything about it.” He walked out, his steps steady, leaving behind a trail of truth no one wanted to hear.

“Uncle Kim, maybe you should sit down, take a breath, and think things through before making any rash decisions,” Joy ventured gently, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

Her words were met with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “And you, Sooyoung,” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “aren’t you supposed to be her best friend? Why don’t you know where she is? Or are you hiding her from us?”

“Of course not!” Joy retorted, her eyes flashing with defiance. “And you know what? Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” She grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. Her voice grew stronger, her conviction unshakable. “If she ran, it’s because she was unhappy with this whole charade of a wedding. I stand with her.” Without waiting for a response, she stormed out.

The silence left in her wake simmered with rage. In one swift, furious motion, Kim Hajoon seized a large vase of flowers and hurled it to the floor, the porcelain shattering into jagged fragments. “When I find that girl…” His voice dropped to a venomous whisper, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “She will be punished for disgracing this family.”

You had already taken a bath. The clothes Renjun lent you fit perfectly—a pair of black sweatpants that hugged you comfortably and a loose yellow T-shirt sporting the logo of a band you didn’t recognize. He had even provided a pair of slippers, slightly oversized but perfectly serviceable. During your shower, you discovered a shallow cut on your left foot from a shard of glass. Fortunately, a quick rummage through the bathroom drawers revealed tweezers, allowing you to carefully remove the fragments. The injury made walking painful, causing you to limp as you descended the stairs, using the walls and furniture for support.

In the living room, Renjun sat on the sofa, eyes focused on a movie playing on the TV. He seemed to be waiting for you. Two glass mugs rested on the coffee table, the rising steam hinting at freshly brewed tea. When he noticed your presence, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“I see the clothes fit.” His brows furrowed as he took in your posture, leaning heavily against the wall. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “I mean… aside from… well, you know…”

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” You interrupted his fumbling words before he could tie himself into further knots.

“Uh… wait a second!” Renjun shot up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a small white medical kit. He placed it on the coffee table, and when he saw you hobbling toward the couch, he quickly came to your side.

He wrapped one arm around you, his other hand lightly supporting the small of your back as he guided you to sit down effortlessly.

“What happened?” he asked as he settled beside you.

You lifted your leg, resting your ankle on your other knee. Gently peeling away a makeshift paper bandage, you revealed the small wound. “Glass cut. Guess running around barefoot isn’t the best idea…” you remarked with a soft laugh, prompting a smile from him.

“Were there shards?” Renjun opened the kit, pulling out gauze, antiseptic, and iodine. He was already puzzling over why you hadn’t mentioned the injury sooner—perhaps you hadn’t realized at first.

“There were, but I got them out. I cleaned your tweezers properly, I promise! They’re back where I found them.”

He chuckled, brushing the concern aside.

“All right. May I?” He gestured toward your foot, waiting for permission.

You nodded shyly and adjusted your posture, resting your foot across his legs.

Renjun dampened a piece of gauze with antiseptic, handling your foot with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. The sting of the solution made you hiss softly, drawing air between your teeth. He glanced at your expression, careful to remain as gentle as possible. After thoroughly cleaning the cut, he applied the iodine and secured a fresh gauze with adhesive tape.

“There we go,” he said, his tone light and reassuring. “Take it easy, okay? No more wandering the streets barefoot.” He closed the kit and set it aside. “I made tea for us. Hope… it’s to your taste…” His voice softened as he handed you a warm mug.

You accepted it with a grateful smile. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Thank you, Renjun.” You took a tentative sip, inhaling the aromatic steam. It wasn’t exactly your favorite flavor, but knowing the care behind it made it sweeter.

Your gaze began to drift across the room. Every detail—from the cozy furniture to the tasteful decor, the paintings, and even the muted tones of the walls—spoke of simplicity and warmth. It was all so different from the lavish grandeur you had grown up with. Renjun caught your curious exploration.

“Like the decor?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice.

Your eyes widened, startled, as if you’d been caught peeking into a forbidden room.

“Uh, yes,” you murmured, taking another sip of tea to hide your embarrassment. “It’s beautiful. Different from what I’m used to…”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. You immediately regretted your words, worried they had sounded snobbish. You rushed to clarify, stumbling over your explanation.

“A good kind of different! It’s… lovely, really!”

Renjun burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with delight as his head tipped back. His laughter filled the room, infectious and genuine. He nearly dropped his mug but recovered just in time. The sound of it, so full of life, made your heart flutter.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, wiping away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “But now you’ve got me curious. What’s so different? Do you live in a castle or something?”

His teasing tone made you smile, the tension melting away like morning fog.

“Almost… it was a mansion.” You used the past tense without thinking. You weren’t sure if you’d still be living there, but honestly, it wasn’t as though you wanted to. “It had two floors and covered… about six of your houses in size…” You let the memory linger for a moment. “The décor was extravagant. My mother always loved flaunting the family’s wealth. She made a smart choice marrying my father.”

Renjun took a small sip of tea, his fingers lightly brushing the warm glass. “Well, my humble little house definitely doesn’t compete with… that.” His voice carried a faint laugh, but his eyes flicked downward. Embarrassment? Insecurity? Even he didn’t quite know.

“Please, don’t think I’m bragging or rubbing it in,” you said quickly, your words tripping over themselves. “It’s just… I don’t even like it. All that luxury… it’s too much to look at, too much to keep up with, and in the end, none of it really matters. It’s all just… stuff.”

He murmured agreement, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, you have a point.”

With the conversation trailing off, your attention returned to the TV. You weren’t sure what movie was playing, couldn’t tell who the characters were or what the plot was about. But you kept your eyes fixed on the screen, pretending you were following along. Renjun finished his tea first, setting his mug on the table. You did the same soon after, inhaling deeply as you placed it down.

“Feeling better?” he asked, stretching out to grab his phone from the side table.

You rubbed your palms nervously over your thighs, nodding.

“Do you want to call a friend? Or family?”

Your heart skipped. A rush of panic swelled in your chest, making your breath come shallow and quick. You didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Here, in this small, cozy space, you felt safe—a world away from the consequences waiting for you outside. The mere thought of facing your parents made your skin crawl, the weight of their judgment already pressing on your shoulders.

He noticed your change in demeanor immediately. His eyes darkened with concern as he set his phone down. Leaning toward you, his hand found the small of your back while the other wrapped gently around your trembling fingers.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You’re not being forced. I’m not going to pressure you. Not at all.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the tears burning behind your eyes. You had to say it. You had to ask.

“I can’t go home, Renjun.”

He stiffened at the desperation in your voice, the way your words trembled on the edge of breaking.

“Why? What happened?” His eyes searched yours, wide and worried. “Do you need the police? Is that why you ran from your wedding?”

The shock on your face was answer enough. You shook your head fervently, gripping his hand tighter.

“No, no, no police, please,” you whispered. “I’ve already made enough trouble. I don’t want more.” You lowered your head, your voice growing small, fragile. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He watched you in silence, trying to piece together your story, to understand the fear etched into every word.

“Then…” He paused, hesitant but sincere. “Stay the night. You’re welcome here. But you need to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

His eyes held nothing but kindness, a warmth that radiated safety and trust. How could you not believe in someone who carried protection in every glance, in every gentle movement?

You hesitated, the words locked behind a wall of doubt. Could you really open up? Could you share what had brought you to this moment? You knew once you began, you wouldn’t be able to stop. But wasn’t that the least you owed him?

Sitting in his home, seeking refuge under his roof, didn’t he deserve to know?

You took a deep breath, still hoping—just maybe—that trusting a stranger could be the right thing after all.

There, you told him everything. From the very beginning of your relationship with Minhyuk to the complicated dynamics with your parents. You explained how, ever since your father learned that your ex-fiancé's family wanted to partner with his company, the engagement—and eventual wedding—felt more like a business deal than a union of love. The pressure to marry had crushed the affection you once felt. You also shared how, despite your parents being loving, they valued the family’s public image above all else. To outsiders, you were the picture-perfect family, even if you and your brother Jungwoo avoided media attention. You feared what facing them now would mean. After all, you had dishonored them, and the news had likely already hit the headlines.

After all, it wasn’t just any wedding that collapsed. It was a high-profile merger between two of the most powerful families across Asia and North America. Walking away from Minhyuk at the altar would surely be seen as more than a scandal—it would be a public humiliation and the collapse of a strategic alliance.

Renjun listened intently, his expression never wavering from one of understanding. He offered his home for as long as you needed, reassuring you that there was no rush to face your parents until you were ready. To break the tension that had thickened the air, he proposed a change of subject—something lighter.

“How about we get to know each other a little more?” he suggested with a smile. “Since we’ll be under the same roof for who knows how long.”

The hours melted away as you both shared pieces of your lives.

You learned he worked as a bridal gown designer for a renowned fashion house, dressing celebrities and socialites. His eyes sparkled with pride as he scrolled through pictures of his creations on his phone, and you fell in love with each one.

“When I get married… for real this time…” You laughed, your cheeks warming with a mix of nerves and humor. “Can I wear one of your dresses?”

“It would be an honor to dress you, Miss Kim,” he teased, bowing like a courtly gentleman presenting himself to royalty.

You also learned he was eager to adopt a dog, ever since falling in love with Daegal, a friend’s fluffy white puppy. Speaking of friends, he warned you that they would be visiting tomorrow.

The conversation meandered into trivial, delightful corners—how you both liked your eggs in the morning, and which way the toilet paper should hang (an intense debate you both thoroughly enjoyed). By the time the night stretched into the early morning, you found a friend in Renjun.

Somewhere between the stories and the laughter, sleep claimed you both. You woke hours later, still on opposite sides of the couch.

A delicious aroma drifted into the room, stirring you. Blinking, you took in the faint morning light seeping through curtains drawn closed for your comfort. Stretching, you inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of breakfast. You rubbed your eyes and rose to your feet, following the inviting smell into the kitchen.

Stopping in the doorway, you watched your new friend setting the table, carefully arranging two plates and pouring juice into glasses.

He noticed you immediately and broke into a grin. “Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully. “I set up the guest room for you. Fresh sheets, stocked the bathroom, even put a new toothbrush there.” He gestured at the plates. “Now, go wash your face, or I’m eating without you!”

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good morning, Renjun,” you said with warmth before turning away, a rare calm settling over you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

At their parents' home, Jungwoo had come to check in on them. His father, as expected, was as implacable as ever. He hadn't even offered a polite good morning—just the same grim scowl that seemed carved into his face. His mother, on the other hand, at least acknowledged him with a nod. Though her fury matched her husband’s, she knew there was no point in unleashing it on her son.

“Have you heard from her, my son?” Katherine asked, dabbing at her mouth with a linen napkin.

“No, Mother. I came to see how you’re holding up. I don’t have any news.” He reached across the table, his hand covering hers as he traced small, soothing circles with his thumb. “But I would like to talk about what happened…” His words hung cautiously in the air. He knew this was treacherous ground—too soon, too raw. And if the news wasn’t already plastered across every major outlet, it was only a matter of time before it flooded every screen and headline.

“What’s there to talk about, Jungwoo?” His father’s voice sliced through the room, hard and cold. “You’ve made your choice. You sided with your sister—the irresponsible, selfish girl that she is.”

“What side, dad?” Jungwoo shot back, meeting his father’s tone head-on. “There are no sides. We’re a family!”

“A family?” Hajoon stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor as he towered over his son. His eyes burned with rage. “She is not my family. That girl had everything. I gave her everything, and how does she repay me? She destroyed it all, Jungwoo! She is the shame of this family!”

Jungwoo rose to meet his father’s glare, his own anger boiling just beneath the surface. “And what will you do? Disown her? Cast her out because she didn’t follow your script?” His voice sharpened like steel. “Don’t forget, everything you gave her was your choice. You had children because you wanted to. Don’t act as if she owes you her life for that, Kim Hajoon.”

Between them stood Katherine. She remained seated, her eyes shifting between husband and son. Despite her own anger, the woman could not ignore the fierce pull of her maternal heart. Her daughter was still her child, a piece of her soul—a part of her that she could never abandon.

“Watch your tone, boy,” Hajoon growled, his voice rising to a full roar. “I am your father! And yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. When you find your sister, you tell her she’s no longer part of this family.”

Jungwoo’s lips curled into a bitter smile. His next words came slowly, each syllable dripping with disdain. “Then be my guest. You don’t have children anymore.” He took a step back, chest heaving. “Find yourself another heir to fill your shoes when you’re gone. Maybe Minhyuk—your perfect son-in-law—can step in.”

He turned away, his steps heavy with hurt and defiance. He felt his father’s furious gaze searing into his back, but he didn’t look back.

“Get out of my house!” Hajoon bellowed after him, his voice thundering like a storm.

Jungwoo kept walking. The words, no matter how harsh or cutting, could not pierce the armor of truth he carried within him. Yet, deep down, each cruel utterance still weighed on his heart.

Because no matter how righteous the fight, no matter how strong his resolve, nothing cut quite as deeply as hearing those words from his own father.

“I’m here to collect my sister’s belongings,” Jungwoo said, his voice cold and clipped. “Don’t worry, Hajoon. Just documents—what she’s entitled to. Rest assured, when she comes back, I won’t let you lay so much as a finger on her.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the staircase, urgency propelling him forward. He didn’t need much—only her phone and papers—but the weight of his father’s presence made each step feel heavier.

Behind him, Katherine watched her son disappear up the stairs before fixing her gaze on her husband.

“You didn’t mean a word of that,” she said, her voice a knife hidden in silk.

“I did,” Hajoon snapped, though the crack in his voice betrayed him.

“No, you didn’t.” Her eyes darkened with resolve. “Hajoon, let me make one thing crystal clear—if any harm comes to our children because of one of your outbursts, I swear I’ll destroy you.”

The silence that followed was as sharp as broken glass. She wasn’t bluffing. He knew Katherine’s word was as unyielding as steel.

Moments later, Jungwoo descended the stairs, a small bag in hand. His jaw was set, his eyes stormy as he marched past his parents.

“Jungwoo—”

Her hand reached for his arm, a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

“Let me go, mom.”

“Please, my son—”

“Let me go,” he repeated, firmer this time, his patience fraying at the edges.

Reluctantly, her fingers loosened. She stood in silence as he walked out the front door without a backward glance. No goodbye. No hesitation.

Outside, the cool air bit at his skin. Jungwoo crossed the street to where his car waited, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a familiar number.

When Joy answered, he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Any news?”

“None,” she sighed.

“When she reaches out,” he said, his tone sharp with urgency, “don’t let her go home. Don’t let her call them—don’t even think about letting her contact our parents. I don’t care if she avoids me too, just let me know she’s safe. I’m bringing her things over. You’ll probably be the first person she tries to find.”

Before she could respond, he ended the call, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.

He slumped against the steering wheel, his breath heavy with frustration.

I hope you know what you’re doing, little sister…

After breakfast, Renjun stretched his arms, gathering the dishes to take them to the sink.

“I’m heading to the market,” he announced, turning on the faucet as water began to flow over the plates. “I need to grab a few things and get ready for my friends coming over later.”

You sat silently for a moment, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing your palms together.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” He glanced over his shoulder, water running between his fingers as he scrubbed a dish.

“I’m sure.” Rising to your feet, you picked up a dish towel and began drying the plates as he handed them over. “I don’t want to risk being seen.”

Renjun shrugged, exhaling softly in understanding. The silence that followed was calm, broken only by the steady sound of water and the gentle swipes of fabric against ceramic.

“I…” Your voice faltered, hesitant. “I think I want to call Joy.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious but patient.

“Or maybe not,” you added quickly, averting your gaze. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

He turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, watching you. “Your best friend?” When you nodded, his lips curved into a small smile. “Of course it matters. You should call her. Even if it’s just to let her know you’re safe… and maybe to find out what’s going on with your family. It might help.”

Your teeth worried your lower lip as you hesitated.

“You don’t have to tell her everything,” he continued. “Just enough.”

Your heartbeat quickened. It’s only Joy, you told yourself. She’s your best friend.

You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself. “Alright…”

“Great.” He handed you his phone with an easy grin. “Use mine. The passcode is 2303.”

He started to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing back with a playful wink. “I’m just going to change clothes. Holler if you need anything.”

Alone with the phone in your hand, you stared at it as if it carried a weight far beyond its physical form. Why? Why this hesitation to reach out to the one person who always had your back?

Just breathe.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you keyed in the passcode.

Moments later, the dial tone buzzed in your ear. You held your breath, the world shrinking to this single connection, until…

“Hello?”

The tension in your chest melted at the familiar voice, and a smile crept onto your face before you realized it.

“Joy.”

Relief poured into your words.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” Her voice burst with a mix of panic and joy. “Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you staying with someone? In a hotel? Do you even know what’s happening out here?”

Her rapid-fire questions shot out like arrows, sharp with urgency, but each one wrapped around you like a warm embrace—reassuring, grounding, reminding you that you had a refuge in her.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you no longer felt alone.

“Joy, I’m fine. I’m safe, staying at a… friend’s place. He’s taking good care of me, so don’t worry.” You hear her let out a heavy sigh of relief before you continue. “I called just to let you know I’m okay and, well… to find out how things are going over there.”

There’s a pause on her end, a hesitation that tells you everything you need to know: things aren’t going well. Which, honestly, was to be expected after yesterday’s spectacle.

“Your dad’s absolutely furious, but I’m sure you figured that out already,” Joy says, her voice lowering into a somber murmur. You hum in acknowledgment, anxiety building in your chest. “Jungwoo had it out with him. Told him they weren’t even part of the same family anymore.”

Your eyes widen. What? Jungwoo fought with dad? What does your brother have to do with this?

“I didn’t get all the details since he didn’t explain much, but…”

You barely catch her words as you notice Renjun descending the stairs. You murmur, “Hold on a sec, Joy,” then turn your attention to him.

“You’re talking to your friend?” he asks with a smile, and you nod, unable to stop a small grin from forming despite the tense conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Well… I won’t be too long. I should be back in about 40 minutes, give or take, depending on lines and traffic. Do you want anything from the market? Ask for anything you like!” His warm smile makes you feel at ease.

“Could you get some granola bars? I love snacking on those…” You ask timidly, feeling a bit shy about requesting something. But honestly, with everything going on, they’ve become your comfort food.

“Of course, silly.” You smile, telling him your favorite flavors and thanking him before he heads out.

When you return to the phone, Joy’s teasing voice immediately greets you.

“So… is he cute? That voice of his sounded dreamy.”

You nearly choke. Coughing a few times, you hear her giggle on the other end.

“Joy! That’s not something you ask!”

“Oh, come on! Just because you ran from a wedding doesn’t mean you can’t notice a handsome guy. So? Spill. Is he hot?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Um… yeah, he’s pretty hot. And sweet! He’s honestly amazing, Joy,” you say, feeling warm as memories of the night before and this morning flood your mind. Renjun really was a gem. “But enough about him for now. Tell me what happened next!”

“Right, sorry!” Her tone shifts again. “Jungwoo came by earlier. He dropped off your documents, your phone, and a few clothes you left at his place. He knew you’d reach out to me first.”

You bite your lip, grateful for your brother’s intuition.

“But…” Her voice lowers, turning serious. “He said not to let you talk to your parents under any circumstances. Whatever’s going on, it’s bad. So please, don’t reach out to them until I figure out what’s really happening.”

Your stomach twists at her warning.

“Okay… If you find out more, tell me.” A thought occurs, and you add quickly, “Oh, and save this number! It’s Renjun’s phone—this is how we’ll keep in touch.”

“Got it,” she replies.

“And Minhyuk and his family… well, I haven’t heard much about them, but it’s safe to assume they’re just as furious as your father. Jooheon said Minhyuk didn’t say much after the wedding. He just left and hasn’t really kept in touch. He thinks Minhyuk is still processing everything, probably feeling disappointed. I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid… You know how he can be—bitter and vengeful,” Joy says, her voice full of concern.

“Yeah… What I did to him was so unfair. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he retaliated. I even thought about talking to him, explaining what made me do it, but… I don’t have the courage.” You exhale a soft, humorless laugh.

“And that’s totally understandable. I’ll reach out to the guys, see if anyone knows how he’s doing, and I’ll keep you updated on whatever I find out, okay?” Sooyoung’s tone turns lighter. “But now, tell me more about this Renjun guy I’ve never heard of! Come on, spill!”

“Well, actually, I just met him yesterday while… running away. I almost got hit by his car.” You chuckle at the memory, even though it was a close call.

“You’re staying at a guy’s house you met yesterday? And he almost ran you over? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Her tone shifts from curious to stern. And she has every right to be concerned — what are you thinking, spending the night with a total stranger?

“Joy, I told you, it’s fine. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He didn’t push boundaries or make me feel uncomfortable. If he had, I wouldn’t still be here.” You try to justify your actions, but she scoffs in response.

“I still don’t like the sound of this,” she mutters.

The conversation flows from there, stretching into a good few minutes. You talk about everything — from the chaos of the wedding to what happened after your escape and your scattered thoughts about what comes next.

After more than half an hour on the call, you and Joy say your goodbyes. With nothing else to do, you decide to explore the house. Hopefully, there might be a task to keep you occupied until the Chinese boy returns. You get up, leaving your phone on the coffee table, and start with the living room console. There are a few picture frames there, each holding a photo.

You pick up the first one, which shows Renjun and a friend, seemingly on a climbing trip. The two are posing playfully on a massive rock, making you smile. You vividly recall what he told you about that day and how he recommended trying it—well, at least with someone experienced. The second frame holds a picture of him with three kittens, probably belonging to his friend. Two of the three fluffy white furballs are gazing at him adorably, as if mesmerized by the young man. The third frame contains a photo of him alone, with a brightly lit city at night as the backdrop. He’s leaning over what seems to be a bridge railing, wearing a brown trench coat and glasses, accompanied by that beautiful smile of his—the one that suits him so perfectly. You could swear that the first time you saw him smile, especially when he laughed, your world became a little more colorful.

You hear the sound of keys, and moments later, the door opens. Renjun steps in, carrying a few shopping bags. Instinctively, you go to meet him and help.

“Thanks. Wow, I think I took longer than I planned—jeez!” he complains, closing the door as the two of you head to the kitchen.

“Just a little…” you tease, glancing at the clock. The time he estimated had been exceeded by… about an hour and nine minutes.

“A guy’s car broke down in the middle of the avenue. A few of us had to help push it to the shoulder. That little adventure took about twenty minutes,” he explains, washing his hands at the sink. “Oh, and there were some new, unusual flavors of snack bars, so I got a few for you too. Hope you like them,” he adds shyly, glancing at the bags.

You offer him a sweet smile and a shy "thank you." He pulls the little boxes out of the bag, showing them to you. You examine each one with enthusiasm. Truly, you'd never seen them before—not even in advertisements. You felt happy that Renjun had thought about you and even happier knowing you’d get to try all those treats.

“I didn’t ask earlier—how’s your foot?” he asks, unloading the groceries and placing them on the counter.

“Oh, it’s fine. It still hurts a bit, and I definitely can’t put too much weight on it, but I think I’ll survive,” you joke with a smile.

“If you need me to clean it again, just let me know. The last thing I want is to have to take you to the hospital because your wound got infected, Miss Kim.” His shoulders drop slightly as he speaks. How is it that even his scolding sounds so gentle?

“Yes, Sir Huang!” you reply with a mock salute, making him laugh.

“How was your conversation with your friend?” he asks as you sit down on the stool with a sigh.

“The conversation was good, but the situation could be better…” He watches you with a worried expression, walking over and gently holding one of your hands. Your gaze drops to where your hands touch, and you can’t help but feel a warm, comforting sensation.

“What happened?” Renjun’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, his eyes locked on your face. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose—making you feel this way. This sense of safety, of being cared for. He’s just so naturally good at it.

“Uh… Well… Joy said Jungwoo had a fight with our father, and apparently, they’re no longer on speaking terms… And about Minhyuk, she hasn’t heard from him. I think he’s still shaken, you know? Being left at the altar… I feel a little guilty about it. I mean, he was so good to me…” You sigh, memories of happy times with your ex-fiancé flooding your mind.

“But you didn’t feel the same anymore. And that’s okay. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that. He might be hurt, maybe even angry, but if he truly loves you, I’m sure he’ll give you the chance to explain why you did what you did,” Renjun says, his voice calm and reassuring. You give him a faint smile in response.

“Thank you, Renjun. I think I’ll go back tomorrow. I’ll talk to Joy, Jungwoo, and, of course, try to speak with Minhyuk,” you say. Renjun’s soft smile makes your heart race. Silly heart, why are you doing this? Calm down!

“That’s a good idea. Joy might have already told them you’re okay, but there’s nothing like hearing it directly from you, right?” he says with a playful tone. “If you don’t want to do it alone, I can go with you,” he offers.

You’re tempted to accept—partly out of fear, especially of facing your parents and the Lee family, but also because you’ve come to love Huang’s company. Still, none of this has anything to do with him. The messy family drama, the unresolved emotions, the impulsive decisions—none of it should affect Renjun, even though being with him is already a conflict in itself.

“No need, Renjun. I think it’ll be better if I handle this on my own…” you say. He nods, still gazing intently at you. You smile awkwardly, noticing he hasn’t realized he’s still caressing your hand. “So… what’s for lunch? Can I help you?” you ask, pulling your hand away quickly to change the subject.

Renjun seems to snap back to reality, blinking a few times and clearing his throat before returning to what he was doing. “Ah, yeah… I was thinking of making jjamppong. And, of course, you can help! Just don’t stand up—stay seated right there, exactly as you are,” he responds, a bit shy.

You comply, staying seated as you watch him. Renjun washes the vegetables and hands them to you to chop. As you prepare the meal together, you chat about various things, mostly his friends, who are coming to visit in a few hours. He shares bits about them, wanting you to feel comfortable around them.

“Renjun, how am I supposed to meet your friends looking like this?” you exclaim, gesturing at yourself as you turn to him. He chuckles at your reaction.

“What’s wrong? My clothes fit you perfectly. It’s like a feminine, much prettier version of me,” he jokes, letting the compliment slip naturally, leaving you flustered and shy.

“W-what’s wrong is, have you seen how I usually dress casually?” you ask, exasperated.

“Of course not. I just met you yesterday, and I’m pretty sure your casual wardrobe doesn’t include a wedding dress,” he teases, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you fuss.

“Nothing like an oversized men’s shirt or jersey shorts, seriously, Renjun?” you protest, trying to fix your hair at the very least.

He watches you, utterly captivated, a small smile lingering on his face. You had just come out of the shower, wearing his fresh clothes—a plain white shirt and gray jersey shorts. Renjun didn’t have anything remotely feminine in his wardrobe, which made sense since it wasn’t his style, nor did he have a sister to help out. This was the best he could manage. You tried folding the shirt and tying it to look more “presentable,” as you put it. He listened as you muttered complaints like, “I’d never go out in public like this” or “A slightly tighter, shorter shirt would make a huge difference.” But he couldn’t care less. You looked so effortlessly beautiful in his clothes.

“Well, I guess this will do,” you finally declare, snapping him out of his little reverie. You had done a simple half-up hairstyle and managed to adjust the shirt to your liking, tying it into a makeshift crop top. “Do you have any makeup around here?” you ask with a playful flutter of your eyelashes, and he obliges.

Renjun retrieves the kit he uses daily and hands it to you, resuming his quiet admiration.

“Some of it might not match your skin tone, so just stick with the eyeshadows, blush, and this brand-new lip balm,” he says, placing the products in front of you, along with a serum. “And can I ask why you’re going to all this trouble to get ready for my friends? You’d look fine to me, messy hair, no makeup, and wearing my clothes just the way they are.” Everything about his words radiates comfort and domesticity.

You can’t help but think of Minhyuk. He used to love you just as you were—completely disheveled, makeup-free, in wrinkled clothes, even with a bit of drool after a night’s sleep. A small, warm smile creeps onto your face at the comforting memory.

“Who said I’m getting ready for your friends?” you retort, raising an eyebrow mockingly. “For your information, I always have to look presentable, even when I’m sleeping. You never know when an emergency might happen in the middle of the night! What if I have to run out because the house catches fire? Or worse, what if I die in my sleep? My ghost is not going to wander around wearing a stained band T-shirt, ripped shorts, and ankle socks.” You explain this while applying the lip balm, your logic making Renjun burst out laughing. Once again, his laughter warms your heart, setting it beating in a way you’re all too familiar with.

The doorbell rings, and your eyes widen. Despite coming from a wealthy, famous, and highly sociable family, you’ve never been a social butterfly—that was always your brother’s role. You’ve preferred to stay in the background, keeping your social circle as small as possible. When necessary, you’d interact politely, of course—your upbringing wouldn’t allow rudeness. But the thought of meeting six new people, all men no less, was nerve-wracking.

Renjun helps you down the stairs, as he’s been adamant about minimizing the strain on your injured foot. One hand supports yours, while the other rests on your waist—now slightly exposed thanks to your tied-up shirt. His firm grip steadies you, and it’s only sheer willpower that stops him from carrying you straight to the sofa. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt so protective of you, but he knew he’d do anything to prevent you from getting hurt again.

“Sit here,” he says, guiding you toward the sofa, but you shake your head in refusal. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn, Huang. But you don’t greet people while sitting down. I’m fine standing for a few minutes,” you explain, resolute. He sighs in defeat, though a soft smile soon tugs at his lips as he lets you be.

The doorbell rings again, this time more impatiently. Renjun strides toward the door, muttering, “Learn to wait, Chenle!” as he unlocks it. Three men come into view, and the one who seems to be Chenle strides in first, grumbling.

“If you were just a bit more efficient... It’s just a door,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He looks like he has more to say, but his gaze lands on you, standing beside the sofa, and he stops mid-sentence. “Oh, hello, gorgeous,” he says with a grin, stepping closer and extending his hand. “I’m Chenle.”

Shy, you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Renjun! You didn’t mention your friend was this pretty,” says the freckled boy—Haechan, apparently. His words make you duck your head, shyness spreading over you as you glance down.

“Shut up, Haechan, and behave, or I’ll throw you out,” Renjun warns, glaring at him. Haechan raises his hands in mock surrender before stepping closer to you and repeating Chenle’s greeting.

“That antisocial guy over there is Jisung,” Renjun says, gesturing toward a tall boy dressed entirely in black. You offer him a polite wave, and Jisung returns a friendly smile.

“And the others?” Renjun asks, watching as Haechan sprawls out on the sofa.

“Mark went to pick up Jeno and Jaemin, but one of his cats wasn’t feeling well, so he’s checking on it. Worst case, he’s bringing the three little troublemakers with him,” Chenle explains, flipping through TV channels. You gasp audibly at the mention of three kittens, and suddenly all eyes are on you. You shrink back slightly.

“Sorry, I just really like cats,” you mumble, which only makes the group chuckle in amusement. Renjun steps closer to you, gently touching your arm.

“You can sit down now. They’re going to take a while, and I don’t want you straining your foot,” he says softly, his tone full of care. It’s obvious he’s trying to divert your attention from the slightly overwhelming presence of the three men, having noticed your discomfort.

Meanwhile, Chenle, Haechan, and Jisung exchange knowing looks, their expressions oozing mischief. Haechan is the first to grab his phone and start typing furiously in their group chat, announcing “renjunnie’s girlfriend :(”. Predictably, the three absent members of the group explode with curiosity and excitement in the chat.

It’s not like Renjun hadn’t already told them what had happened yesterday afternoon. The issue was that he conveniently left out a few crucial details: the girl he almost ran over was now staying at his place, wearing his clothes, and about to have lunch with his friends.

Was this normal behavior for someone who’d just met another person yesterday?

“So, what’s for lunch, huh?” Chenle asks with a cheerful grin.

“Jjamppong. And be nice—she helped me make it,” Renjun replies as he sits beside you, carefully placing a cushion under your leg to keep your foot elevated.

“What’s the story there?” Haechan asks, eyes glinting with curiosity. Renjun shoots him a less-than-friendly look.

“Well, I was…” You hesitate, unsure if Renjun had already filled them in about your situation. You also don’t feel like telling complete strangers that you ran away from your own wedding, so you opt to downplay the story. “...running barefoot on the street and ended up cutting my foot. Definitely not my smartest idea.” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness, though the three men exchange puzzled glances.

Once again, the doorbell rings, and Renjun gets up to answer it. He wasn’t expecting Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin to show up so soon—especially since Jaemin is famously attached to his cats and tends to hover over them when they’re unwell. What he wasn’t expecting even more was the sight of each of them carrying one of the cats in their arms.

“Weren’t they supposed to be sick?” Renjun whispers to Jeno as they step inside, visibly confused.

"Yeah, but he just gave them their medication and brought them along. Out of all of us, he’s definitely the most excited to meet your girlfriend." After Jeno’s comment, Renjun could almost swear he saw a question mark floating above his own head, like in a cartoon. But soon enough, he let out a sigh, already knowing who had spread the rumor.

As he closed the door and turned around, he noticed Jaemin standing right next to you, holding Luna in his arms. You looked absolutely delighted. Your love for cats was unmistakable, evident in the way your eyes sparkled as you gazed at the three of them together.

"Our dad never let us have a pet," you shared as Jaemin moved closer, stroking Luna and Luke gently.

“‘Us’?” Mark asked, curious.

"My older brother. When we were kids, he once tried to steal the neighbor’s puppy, but as you can imagine, it didn’t end well. She called the police on him, accusing him of theft, and he denied it to the bitter end, crying his eyes out, begging the officer not to arrest him." You all burst into laughter at the story. The memory was vivid in your mind. You could still picture Jungwoo trembling with fear, even wetting his pants at the thought of being arrested at the tender age of eight—but that part of the story didn’t need to be shared.

"And… how did you two meet?" Jaemin asked, his curiosity piqued. Renjun had given a brief explanation earlier, but Jaemin wanted to hear it from you. He found it hard to believe his friend could start dating someone in just a day. That was more of a Haechan move. Still, who was he to judge love? If Renjun felt it was right, then it was.

You glanced at Renjun, hesitant about how much to share, but he gave you a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up, silently encouraging you to continue. "Well, I was running down the street… barefoot..." you said with a laugh, lifting your injured foot as evidence. "I was so desperate that I didn’t notice the light was green and ended up throwing myself in front of Renjun’s car." You turned to him with a smile, which he returned.

"Good thing I’m an excellent driver with great reflexes," he said smugly, flashing a proud grin—until he noticed your expression.

"But isn’t that just the bare minimum for a driver?" you replied, arching an eyebrow. The room filled with laughter, and all the teasing eyes turned to Renjun, who sighed in defeat. Apparently, you had already joined the club.

"Looks like she got you there," Jeno quipped, laughing as he stretched his legs out on the coffee table. A habit Renjun absolutely despised but had long given up trying to correct after countless ignored requests.

"I refuse to let you join the ‘Renjun Hate Club’ with these degenerates," Renjun muttered, heading toward the kitchen while the others chuckled behind him. "Jisung, come help me!" he called out to the youngest, who groaned as he reluctantly followed.

"I can help—" you started to offer, but Renjun shot you a look that made you pause and blink, lowering your head sheepishly. "Never mind, I guess I can’t…" you murmured, and he gave you a soft, affectionate smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

During lunch, everything went smoothly. The boys made an effort to make you feel more comfortable by bringing up lighthearted topics, giving you plenty of opportunities to join in on the conversations. Even Jisung opened up and shared a few words, and you realized he was simply shy—much like you. He felt more at ease in the presence of close friends.

You also learned that Jeno was once part of the same world of media and wealth but had given it all up to live in anonymity, free from his family’s expectations and pressure. And he was absolutely right to do so; you were sure you’d follow his example after the whole wedding fiasco.

Amid the laughter and chatter, lunch came to an end. The meal was excessively praised which made you feel bashful, though in a good way. After all, if Renjun had been solely responsible for the meal, he would’ve been endlessly teased.

Now, everyone was debating what to watch. Renjun and Mark were voting for comedy, while Jeno and Jisung leaned toward action. Haechan and Chenle argued for suspense, and you threw in a random vote for romantic comedy, aligning with Jaemin. Honestly, you didn’t think the choice of movie mattered much since, from what little you’d seen of Renjun’s friends, they seemed like the type to talk over the whole thing anyway.

“It’s a tie…” Jisung stated the obvious.

“Why doesn’t Renjun decide? It’s his house, isn’t it?” you suggested, and everyone turned to you, though only two of them looked pleased.

“No,” Haechan shot back, making you laugh. “Let’s settle this with a wheel spin.” He pulled out an app on his phone and entered the genres into a digital roulette. Clearly, these disagreements happened often.

The TV was still tuned to a random news channel. Jeno had turned it on, thinking the guys might behave a bit better with you around. He was wrong.

You were completely distracted, stroking Luke, who was napping peacefully in your lap. You almost didn’t notice Minhyuk’s face appear on the screen. But when your eyes caught the image on the TV, you froze.

“Jeno, turn it up, please,” you asked, your tone suddenly serious, your gaze glued to the screen.

“Come on, are you seriously gonna watch the news—” Jeno joked, not giving it much thought.

“Jeno. Turn the damn volume up.” This time, you looked at him directly, and he swore a chill ran down his spine. He had never encountered a woman so… commanding, except maybe his mother. There was something in your expression and tone that left no room for argument.

“[...] And as I stood at the altar, waiting for the woman I thought was the love of my life, she abandoned me.” Your eyes widened. Something deep inside you told you this press conference would spell disaster for your reputation. “She ran away from the wedding, leaving everyone waiting and worried, while she ran off with her lover. And she hasn’t even shown up to explain herself.” Minhyuk’s voice was dripping with hatred. You could almost see the venom in his words.

Your jaw dropped instantly, and the boys around you exchanged worried glances. No, he’s not doing this.

“Do you know him?” Renjun, sitting beside you, asked cautiously. But you didn’t answer. Your focus remained entirely on the screen.

“That’s why I’m saying this here and now, to finally end this charade. Y/N Kim is not who you think she is. She’s manipulative, deceitful, and cruel. She fooled me for years without a shred of remorse…” At that moment, you stopped listening.

You couldn’t believe the man you once loved was capable of doing this to you—spreading lies just to ruin your reputation. Sure, your heart still carried guilt for leaving him at the altar, but this? This was too much.

Yet, you could feel the guilt and regret fading, replaced by anger and a thirst for vengeance. If he wanted an ex-fiancée who was manipulative and cruel, then that’s exactly what he would get.

“Renjun, give me your phone, please,” you said, extending your hand toward him, your voice calm but firm. Your gaze quickly flickered to the others in the room, taking note of the shock on each of their faces. But you weren’t intimidated. Taking the already-unlocked phone, you searched through the call history and dialed Joy.

The phone rang three times before Sooyoung’s voice came through. You didn’t even need to say anything before she spoke. “I’m watching the show too. Jooheon just told me about it—apparently, Minhyuk gathered everyone at the last minute, and even he didn’t know.”

You let out a dry laugh, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you kept your eyes fixed on the nonsense your ex-fiancé was spewing on TV. “I need you to come pick me up. Now,” you said curtly before hanging up.

You asked Renjun for the address, which he immediately provided. Typing it into a text, you sent it to your best friend.

Without missing a beat, Jeno turned off the TV, sparing you from any further torment. The room fell into an awkward silence. While Renjun watched you with concern, the other boys seemed more curious than anything else.

“Is it okay to ask?” Chenle finally muttered, only to receive a light smack from Mark, who promptly silenced him.

“You all asked how I hurt my foot…” you began, your voice carrying the weight of suppressed emotion. “I was running away from my wedding to that…” you paused, closing your eyes as anger surged through you. Words failed to capture just how furious you felt toward Lee Minhyuk. “Idiot. And no, I didn’t cheat on him—least of all with Renjun. I’ve only known him for a day,” you clarified quickly, eager to dispel any lingering doubts.

“I just… I wasn’t feeling right. It wasn’t what I wanted, and without thinking, I ran.” Your expression softened, tinged with melancholy. You felt truly disheartened, betrayed by someone you thought you knew so well. Years of what had seemed like a happy relationship had come crashing down, leaving behind a bitter taste you couldn’t ignore.

A familiar warmth enveloped you as Renjun pulled you into a hug. You looked up at him, offering a small, grateful smile, before leaning further into his embrace. He held you with care and kindness, making you feel secure in a way you hadn’t expected.

Tilting your head back to keep the tears at bay proved futile as emotion overwhelmed you. They spilled over, your fragile heart breaking under the weight of everything.

“And I don’t even want to think about how my dad’s feeling—if he’s watching this,” you choked out, your voice quivering with restrained sobs. A comforting hand rested on your shoulder, this time from Jaemin. “God, he’s going to kill me…” you murmured to yourself, curling further into Renjun’s chest for solace.

Part of you felt pathetic for crying in front of seven men you barely knew—especially over someone who hadn’t even given you the chance to explain your side before painting you as the villain. You knew your actions hadn’t been the most rational and that you should’ve at least talked to Minhyuk. But you’d been too desperate to think straight.

On the other hand, you couldn’t deny how comforted you felt in Renjun’s arms. You never thought you’d find solace in a stranger, but here you were. Feeling something so deep and reassuring, you dared to think that Minhyuk had never made you feel this way.

“I’m sorry, guys…” you mumbled, your voice muffled against Renjun’s chest but still loud enough for the others to hear.

"You don’t have to apologize. He was a complete jerk; it’s not your fault," Mark reassured you, sitting down on the floor beside you.

“It kind of is. I left him at the altar…” you lamented, sniffing as your eyes began to burn again, threatening another wave of relentless tears. Unable to hold it back, you buried your face in Renjun’s chest once more.

“Like you said yourself, you weren’t feeling good about it. You just did what you thought was best for you at the time. And you did the right thing. You don’t have to blame yourself for anything,” Jeno’s calm voice chimed in as he walked closer.

“Exactly. If he had any sense, he would’ve listened to you. Seriously, it’s been, what, a day? And he’s already pulling this ridiculous stunt?” Haechan added, placing a comforting hand on your back and rubbing it gently.

“Yeah… It’s almost like he’s trying to gain something out of all this…” Chenle speculated, suspicion evident in his tone.

Before you realized it, you were surrounded by all of them, each radiating care and concern.

“I’ve already told her she’s not to blame, but does she listen to me? Nope,” Renjun teased lightly, his fingers running through your hair. “Can we all agree now that he’s not worth it? Look at you—here you are, crying your heart out over a guy who doesn’t even deserve it.” His hand slipped down to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face up so he could meet your eyes. His gaze held you captive, and gradually, your tears began to subside.

“Yep. Men are trash,” Jisung quipped with a disdainful shrug.

“Hey, let’s not get carried away,” Jeno protested, feigning offense.

“What? I’m a man who doesn’t like men. And I’ll say this—I always support women in their rights and wrongs!” Jisung’s dramatic declaration earned a genuine laugh from you, breaking the trance Renjun’s gaze had put you in. Smiling, you buried your face back into his chest, feeling a little lighter.

“Are you rooting against your own team, you idiot?” Mark tossed a pillow at Jisung, who dodged it effortlessly.

“Oh, as if you don’t use that same line to flirt with girls,” Jisung shot back, smirking. Mark’s expression turned red, especially with you in the room. Without a word, he began chasing Jisung around the living room, carefully avoiding the cats scattered on the floor.

“Hey, I have a genuine question,” Jaemin called out, grabbing your attention. “Is it true that women like pathetic men?”

You burst out laughing at his so-called “genuine” question. “Not all, but yeah, a lot of them do,” you replied, resting your head against Renjun’s shoulder while glancing around. Mark had paused his pursuit of Jisung, looking intrigued by the conversation.

“Hmm… are you one of them?” Haechan asked slyly, clearly attempting to flirt. His comment made Renjun visibly flustered, prompting him to swat at Haechan in irritation.

“Alright, alright, my bad! Forgot she’s yours,” Haechan teased with a mischievous grin. The comment made Renjun’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Yours?” you repeated, sitting up straight as you smirked. You weren’t offended at all; in fact, you found it amusing. Of course, you didn’t take the comment seriously, but you couldn’t resist playing along. “Am I yours?” you asked again, leaning closer to Renjun, watching as he became even more flustered.

The other boys were barely holding in their laughter, enjoying the sight of their friend practically melting into the couch.

“You know they’re just… messing around,” Renjun mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly embarrassed. Mentally, he vowed to get back at Donghyuck as soon as you left the room.

You turned your attention to Haechan, who still wore a mischievous smirk. Whatever comeback he was planning was cut short by the sound of the doorbell.

Startled, you stood up quickly, inadvertently putting too much pressure on your injured foot. Pain shot through your sole, causing you to wince sharply. The boys immediately noticed, their expressions shifting to concern. Before your legs could give out entirely, Jaemin stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

The doorbell rings again, and Mark is the one who goes to answer it. He barely has time to register who’s at the door before the man barges in, pushing the door—and whoever was behind it—aside, frantically looking for his younger sister, desperate for news about her. He scans the room, and the relief on his face is almost tangible.

“Oh my God, you’re okay!” he exclaims with a smile but quickly notices her pained expression. Jungwoo swiftly moves to kneel in front of you. His eyes catch Jaemin’s hand still resting on your waist, and he shoots him a deadly glare, making the younger man withdraw immediately. “What happened?” His tone and demeanor shift dramatically.

“I hurt my foot while running away from the wedding,” you explain quickly.

“Sorry about him; he was just worried,” Joy apologizes, still standing by the door. Mark invites her in, and she thanks him, stepping closer to the group. “I had to bring him. He was with me when you called,” she explains, feeling the need to clarify since she’d never intended to reveal your location to anyone.

“It’s fine, better here than… causing trouble,” you mutter, referring to someone who shouldn’t be mentioned now.

“I wasn’t going to cause trouble,” Jungwoo defends himself, stroking Lucy, who has found comfort resting against his legs. “I just wanted to have an honest conversation, you know, man-to-man.” Both Joy and you exchange tired looks.

“Even you don’t believe that,” she counters, shaking her head. “Anyway, I’m Joy, and this is Jungwoo. It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she introduces herself warmly. Behind you, you hear a sigh and turn to see the smitten faces of Chenle and Haechan.

“You better not even get it started; she’s married,” you whisper, and their attention snaps back to you.

“To your brother?” Haechan asks curiously, still unable to take his eyes off the older woman. He doesn’t notice the disgusted face you make at the absurd suggestion.

“Who cares? It’s better to compete with one than with a hundred,” Chenle quips but quickly glances at his friend with mild disdain. “Or two…” Hearing this nonsense, you toss a pillow at the Chinese boy, though the older one is smart enough to dodge your attack.

“I’m Renjun,” Huang says, standing up and offering a handshake to both Joy and Jungwoo.

“Wow, you were right…” Joy glances at you but then focuses on the younger man in front of her. She studies his delicate and attractive features, smiling, which flusters Renjun.

Her comment makes you nervous too. Thank goodness she didn’t give any context!

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if we don’t stick around,” Jungwoo announces, getting to his feet. “We need to take you to the hospital, and missy, you’re staying at my place.” He helps you stand up.

“Hospital?” you ask, alarmed. You’ve always hated hospitals—they smell bad, are full of sick people, and worst of all, they hurt you more before they heal you.

“Yes, ma’am. Who knows what you stepped on?” Jungwoo says in a firm tone, making you pout. You always feel like a naughty child when he talks to you like that. It takes you back to the days when your father would scold you for every little thing you did as a child.

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly, though it’s not like you have much of a choice.

Before leaving, you grabbed the dress. You needed to return it to the designer. You weren’t going to wear that piece again—not when you were no longer marrying the man you once thought was right for you. As you looked at the dress, anger surged within you. Anger at having almost entrusted your life to someone who, at the first opportunity, threw you to the wolves. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what people were saying, what your family was thinking, and honestly, you didn’t want to. You had already punished yourself enough in the span of one day—you needed a break.

You said goodbye to Renjun, the boys, and, of course, the kittens, with a promise to return and spend much more time with them. They seemed to like you so much.

At the moment, Jungwoo was driving to Joy’s house because you refused to go to the hospital before changing clothes. Renjun’s clothes were comfortable, and you loved them, but they weren’t exactly suitable for being out in public. Joy sat beside you, scrolling through social media, looking for reactions to Minhyuk’s important statement. Her expression was unreadable, which only made you more uneasy.

Noticing your agitation, she spoke up: “Jungwoo, why don’t you explain to your sister why she can’t go back home?” Her attention shifted, now interested in what your older brother had to say.

“Earlier, I went to our parents’ house, and Hajoon was impossible.” His words startled you—not so much because of the situation, which you’d already expected, but because he referred to your father by his name.

“Hajoon…” you murmured, and Jungwoo glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

Your father had always been stern and struggled to show affection to you and your brother, especially you. For some reason, you had always been very attached to him. You wanted him to host tea parties, play with your dolls, and even help you choose outfits on special occasions. But this often irritated him, as he came home exhausted from long days at work. You would still pester him, asking him to sit on the floor and pretend that the sink water was tea and that your dolls could talk.

Most times, he’d refuse, but after your insistence, he would grow even more irritated, leading to shouting matches. That’s when Jungwoo would step in—your protector, your knight in shining armor. Time and again, he argued with your father on your behalf. He had long ago accepted that your father wasn’t interested in spending time with you both. But you didn’t understand that and kept going back, hoping for more. Jungwoo was never particularly close to Hajoon, but he still respected him and always called him “Dad.”

Now, hearing Jungwoo refer to him by his name felt like a punch in the gut. What have I done…?

“He said he was going to disown you and kick you out of the family, so I disowned myself too,” Jungwoo said, smiling faintly as if to soften the blow.

“Jungwoo, this has nothing to do with you, for God’s sake,” you scolded, watching him pull a face.

“Of course it does. You’re my sister—I’ll stand by you anywhere, anytime.” You gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder. “And honestly, who even wants to be that man’s son? Let’s be real. If it weren’t for mom, we’d have spent our childhood in a boarding school. I couldn’t care less about giving up being a Kim,” he finished, turning his face away in a huff.

“You know you can’t change your brother’s mind,” Joy chimed in, still focused on her phone.

“Yeah… but it makes me think that in twenty-one years, he’s finally stopped pretending to care. He’s not even trying to fake it anymore…” You felt the tears welling up again. “I guess you were right—Minhyuk and Dad really do think the same way.”

Jungwoo’s heart clenched painfully. Why did you have to be so attached to a man who had never valued you? Why did you have to love him so deeply when he hadn’t returned even a fraction of that pure, boundless affection?

Joy wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace, comforting you. She glanced forward, trying to read Jungwoo’s expression as he clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. If letting him near your father before was risky, now that Hajoon had made you cry, there was no way the two of them could be in the same room.

Against your brother’s protests about freshening up, the first thing you did upon arriving at his house was grab your phone and hurry to the bedroom—or at least move as quickly as you could with your injured foot. You had already asked Joy for Renjun’s number, and she gave it to you without hesitation.

And now, here you are: sitting on the bed, talking to Renjun.

“And how are you doing? I mean, with the whole situation, you know?”

“I’m still processing everything and… planning my revenge.”

“Revenge? Look, I know what he did was awful, and I’d definitely want to punch his face in, but revenge?”

“Renjun, in this world—even though I’m not exactly ‘public’—reputation still matters. And he destroyed mine. Of course, I’m going to get even! Now, enjoy yourself with the boys. I have to convince Jungwoo that I don’t need to go to the hospital. Take care.”

Without waiting for his response, you lock your phone and toss it onto the bed before standing. Just as you were about to leave the room, your brother appeared, knocking twice to announce himself before opening the door. You sighed and sat back down on the bed.

“Don’t be like that, little doll. I only want what’s best for you,” he said, crouching in front of you.

“I know, but I’m fine now. The cut isn’t deep, and Renjun took great care of it,” you explained, crossing your arms and watching as your brother’s expression turned curious.

“Why don’t you tell me more about this Renjun, huh?” Jungwoo stood, plopping down on the bed next to you and pulling you down to lie beside him. “You two seemed close. I mean, all of them did…” His gaze fell on you, eyebrows furrowed. “Was it them you—”

“No! Shut up, Jungwoo!” You slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. “Actually, I only met him yesterday. He almost ran me over…” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of meeting the Chinese boy. You predicted your brother’s reaction and cut him off before he could begin a lecture, just like Joy had tried. “Save your breath. Renjun was incredibly kind and respectful to me. I know it was reckless… going to a stranger’s house, but I was desperate, and he seemed trustworthy.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth again, only for you to interrupt him once more. “And I was right! Don’t start with that either. I think I’m old enough to have learned my lesson, Woo.” You fixed your gaze on a spot on the ceiling.

“How do you do that?” he asked, horrified, looking at you strangely.

“I know you too well. And it’s not just that—you and Joy are like the same person. Seriously,” you teased, making him laugh as he folded his arms behind his head.

The room fell into silence, with both of you staring at the gray ceiling. You were both thinking about the same thing, though in different ways. You wanted to take down Minhyuk—subtly, little by little. This public fallout had already gone too far, and the last thing you wanted was to worsen the situation for your family. You couldn’t even bring yourself to check social media, too afraid of what people might be saying.

Jungwoo, on the other hand, had already asked Joy about it and knew things weren’t looking good. While a fair number of people were on your side, others were saying cruel things. He preferred to shield you from it. As for Minhyuk, it was best to keep him far away. If Jungwoo had the chance, he might send him to the hospital—and that would only escalate everything, especially for you.

“So… what do you plan to do now? About the… situation…” he asked gently, turning his head to look at you. He was trying to tread carefully, unsure of how much this had hurt you.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m dying to give him what he deserves,” you said, still staring at the same spot on the ceiling. “I just need some time and to see how much traction his idiotic speech is getting.” You sighed, sitting up and looking back at him. “I hope you brought my clothes.”

“There are some you left here. I didn’t grab anything from Mom’s house because Hajoon already blew up when I took your documents. Imagine if I walked out with a suitcase.” He sighed, mirroring yours. “But if you want, I can ask Joy to buy some more for you.”

“No, that’s fine, Woo. Thanks.” You stood, and so did he.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to our parents, whether they like it or not,” you declared, heading to the bathroom. “I just need this foot to heal so I can wear my heels again. I hope I left a few pairs here,” you muttered to yourself, making your brother laugh at your priorities.

Soon after, he left the room to give you some privacy.

Downstairs, Jungwoo found Joy on the phone. The moment she noticed him, she abruptly ended the call, making him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What was that about?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she replied quickly, locking her phone and crossing her arms. “How is she?” Joy asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

Jungwoo hesitated, still suspicious of her sudden behavior.

“Come on, Jungwoo, it was just an unnecessary call. Don’t stress over it,” she pressed, raising a brow as if daring him to challenge her.

“Huh. She’s doing fine. And if I know her well, she’s already plotting something against that jerk. Honestly, I don’t blame her.” Jungwoo walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. He offered it to Joy, but she declined. “Oh, and she said she’s planning to go to mom and Hajoon’s place tomorrow.” He caught himself mid-sentence, quickly correcting how he addressed his father, and took a big gulp of water, visibly restless.

“Jungwoo, you really need to stop worrying so much about her. She’s a grown woman now,” Joy said, her voice calm but firm.

“She might be grown, but she’s still, and always will be, my little sister, Joy. I’ll never stop worrying. I just need... to figure out how to adjust.” He refilled his glass and exhaled deeply.

It wasn’t that he thought Hajoon would harm you physically, but he couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be yelling or some harsh words thrown your way.

“Missing her already, lover boy?” Haechan’s teasing voice cut through the air, immediately getting under Renjun’s skin. He sighed loudly, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

“Shut your mouth, Donghyuck, or I’ll throw this plate at your face,” Renjun snapped, making Haechan raise his hands in mock surrender while laughing. He went back to organizing the kitchen counter, but the grin never left his face.

Ever since you left, Renjun’s mood had noticeably shifted. He had grown quieter, barely engaging in conversations or reacting to jokes. It was obvious that something was bothering him, and Haechan, of course, couldn’t resist poking fun at it.

The only time Renjun seemed even remotely himself was when he looked at his phone. He had even smiled for a brief moment earlier. Jisung, ever the observer, caught a glimpse and quietly told the others that it was you he was texting. That small revelation earned knowing smiles from the group. However, as soon as the conversation ended, Renjun returned to his sulky demeanor.

“Come on, just admit it—you’re smitten with her, aren’t you?” Mark asked casually while drying the dishes.

“Is this what love at first sight looks like?” Jaemin chimed in from the living room, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.

“Oh, you’re one to talk about love, huh, Jaemin?” Renjun shot back irritably, referencing his friend’s own complicated situation. Jaemin muttered something inaudible, clearly embarrassed. “And no, I’m not smitten with her. I’m just worried. I’ve only known her for a day, but she’s my friend.”

“Damn, calling her ‘just a friend’ even stung me,” Haechan muttered under his breath, loud enough for Renjun to hear. In response, Renjun splashed water in his direction, silencing him.

“I’m serious. I’m just worried,” Renjun insisted. But even as he said it, his thoughts drifted to you. He couldn’t help but think about you, replaying every interaction in his mind. Was it possible to fall for someone so quickly? It didn’t make sense.

“Look at that—he’s thinking about her again,” Mark whispered to Haechan, both of them chuckling under their breath.

Renjun spun around, his patience wearing thin. “Why is my love life suddenly your favorite topic? Shouldn’t you two be more worried about your own, Haechan and Jaemin?”

“Oh, mine’s doing just fine, thanks for asking,” Jaemin quipped as he strutted into the kitchen, one of the kittens trailing behind him. “I’m handling things like a pro.” He crossed his arms smugly, flashing a self-satisfied grin.

Everyone exchanged skeptical looks.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Jaemin asked, confused, as the kitten let out a soft meow — almost as if it, too, was judging him.

“Seriously? ‘Handling it well?’ You break up with your girlfriend, and the first thing you do is go after her best friend?” Chenle asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“The girl’s cool, and honestly, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happens to be my ex’s best friend. Everything’s fine, though, guys,” Jaemin replied smoothly, but his laid-back attitude only earned more mocking looks from his friends.

“When Lyla finds out, she’ll probably cut the girl’s throat,” Jeno chimed in, joining the conversation.

“That’s the thing—she already knows, and she’s fine with it,” Jaemin explained confidently. Jeno raised a skeptical brow.

“I’m serious. Everything’s good,” Jaemin added with a casual shrug.

“Anyway, what about you, Haechan? Hooking up with your ex’s enemy?” The attention shifted to the younger Lee after Renjun pointed at him.

“Okay, I admit it wasn’t my most mature decision,” Haechan conceded, almost giving Renjun a point. “But she’s hot, and we’re having a lot of fun,” he added with a mischievous laugh, causing Mark, Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung to sigh in unison. The others, however, couldn’t help but laugh along, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“You’re all a bunch of idiots,” Renjun muttered under his breath, turning back to finish washing the dishes.

Standing in front of the mansion, you hesitated. You mentally replayed everything you planned to say, going over every possible reaction your parents might have when they saw you. It had been a day since Minhyuk’s infamous press conference, and, as promised, here you were—at your parents’ residence.

Taking a deep breath, you called out to the security guard.

“Miss Kim,” he greeted politely, and you gave him a brief, tight smile. You weren’t in the mood for pleasantries, but you weren’t going to be rude either. Making your way to the front door, you raised a hand to knock, but before you could, the door opened, revealing your mother.

You braced yourself. You expected her to yell, to reprimand you, and only then to offer comfort. But to your surprise, the moment her eyes landed on you, she pulled you into a warm embrace.

Katherine seemed eerily calm, and that unnerved you.

“Come in, sweetheart,” she said gently, guiding you into the house with a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “When we didn’t hear from you yesterday, I was worried sick. I feared the worst,” she confessed, stopping in front of you to cradle your face in her hands. “You can’t imagine the relief I felt when Joy told me you were okay.”

Joy. Of course, she had called your mother. You wanted to be annoyed, or at least curious, but deep down, you knew she had done it out of concern for your well-being.

“I thought you’d be angry,” you murmured softly, sadness lacing your voice. Katherine smiled faintly.

“Oh, my darling, I was,” she admitted, her tone firm for a moment, making you glance at her warily. But then it softened again, washing away your anxiety. “But when Joy explained what happened... I understood. And I’m so sorry, Peanut,” she said, using your childhood nickname and brushing your cheek with the back of her hand. “I admit, when Minhyuk’s parents proposed the idea, I agreed without much thought. I didn’t think you’d feel pressured, especially since Minhyuk seemed to agree so readily. I thought you two were on the same page.”

You frowned, confusion clouding your expression.

“What do you mean? He knew about it from the start?” you asked, shocked. You had only found out about the whole arrangement—the merger of families and businesses—after the wedding.

“Yes…?” Your mother looked just as confused. “He was at the meeting. He said he’d discussed it with you and that you only weren’t there because you had plans with your friends.”

That was the last straw. Anger surged through you, your expression hardening.

“It’s fine, Mom,” you said curtly, ending the topic. “Thanks for worrying, but as you can see, I’m fine. I didn’t come here to talk about this. I’m guessing you already know what I want to discuss.”

Katherine sighed, straightening her posture and nodding.

“Is dad home?”

“In his office.” You turned to leave, but she grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Sweetheart, your father is furious, especially after Minhyuk’s press conference. Are you sure you want to do this today?” she asked, her eyes searching yours.

“Before I share my side of the story, I need to talk to both of you. I’m not putting this off. My image is being destroyed because of your ‘golden boy,’ and I don’t care if dad’s mad. Believe me, I’m much angrier.”

You pulled your arm free from her grasp and marched toward your father’s office, determination blazing in your every step.

The dark doors burst open with a sudden force, cutting Hajoon's phone call short. He immediately ended the call as soon as his ungrateful daughter appeared in his office. Behind you was your mother, following closely, though she didn’t seem angry at all—her calm demeanor puzzled Hajoon.

“What are you doing in this house? You are not welcome here,” he snapped, rising from his seat. Your father was an imposing figure—his height, stern face, and booming voice could intimidate anyone. But you didn’t flinch. You were tired.

Katherine quickly moved to his side, trying to calm him down. She could see his rage building and wanted to prevent things from escalating.

“I just came to grab a few things and ask your opinion, dear father, about that sleazy Lee’s speech. And, of course, I’d like to know how you manage to be so… miserable, rejecting your children the way you do,” you retorted, your tone dripping with mockery. The bitter taste of rejection filled your mouth. You wanted to say more, to hurl years’ worth of pain at him, but you restrained yourself. Being painted as the traitor was bad enough; you didn’t need to be the hysterical one too.

“Reject? My behavior is proportional to yours!” His voice grew louder. “I gave you everything, girl. To you and your brother! And this is how you repay me? First, you run away from the marriage I invested money, partnerships, and countless hours planning, only to have you throw it all away. Then, I find out—on national television—that you’ve been cheating on Minhyuk all along?” His tone was mocking, incredulous at the allegations. “And your brother? He made his choice when he sided with you. You are the disgrace of this family, Kim Y/N!” he roared, the final sentence echoing like a thunderclap.

“Disgrace? Because we didn’t bend to your whims?” you shouted back, matching his intensity. Both your father and mother looked stunned.

It wasn’t like you to yell or confront him. That role was usually reserved for Jungwoo. You had always been the obedient daughter—the good girl who caused no trouble, accepted everything without complaint, and kept her head down. But not anymore. Being the perfect daughter had gotten you nowhere.

“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice calmer but no less firm. You stood tall, meeting his glare. “I’m done being the good little girl you always wanted me to be. You’re not worth it.”

He opened his mouth to respond, furious, but you cut him off.

“Shut up. I’m not finished,” you snapped, and both your parents’ eyes widened at your audacity. Hajoon’s fury only deepened.

“I’m done chasing after you, begging for scraps of love from the father I once adored. Look at me—where did being the perfect daughter, always silent, always obedient, get me? I said shut up!” You were beyond caring now. To hell with hysteria, to hell with family unity, to hell with Hajoon and his oppressive control.

“When have I ever done something for myself? Ballet, friendships, schools, even college—it was all for you. I’ve always obeyed, and this is how you treat me? My happiness has never mattered to you, Hajoon. To you, Jungwoo and I were never more than heirs to your empire. And now, the moment I do something for myself—fight for my happiness—I’m suddenly the disgrace of the family?” You laughed bitterly, running a hand through your hair, your blood boiling with rage.

“And you think, because you gave me ‘everything,’ including an amazing mother—one of the only things I can thank you for—you know me so well? You should know I’d never betray someone.”

“Funny you say that. That argument died the moment you walked out of this house two days ago. What guarantee do I have that you’re not just a slut who’ll sleep with anyone?”

The sharp crack of your hand across his face echoed through the room. His eyes widened in disbelief at what just happened.

“You will never speak to her like that again, Hajoon,” your mother’s voice broke the tense silence. Her eyes burned with a fury you had never seen, not even when Jungwoo and you accidentally ruined her expensive painting. Katherine’s breathing was ragged, her anger barely contained.

“Not only are you questioning my daughter’s character, but you’re also insulting my worth as a mother. If you ever say something like that again, I swear I’ll do something I’ll regret,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Enough. You are not my father. You never were. Jungwoo was right to abandon you at the first opportunity. You’re lucky to still have Mom, because as far as your children are concerned, you have none,” you declared, turning your back on him. “Not that you wanted us anyway, right?” you added bitterly, storming out of the room.

Your mother called after you, her voice pleading, but you ignored her, quickening your pace to leave the house. You had even given up on retrieving your belongings. You wanted nothing from that man—not his money, not his name, not his legacy.

It had been hours since you left your parents’ house, and the sun was beginning to set.

Since walking out, you had wandered the streets, lost in thought. Memories flooded your mind—everything that had happened before the wedding, during the preparations, and everything that had led to your current situation.

A soft knock on your bedroom door broke your reverie. You were finishing getting ready, spritzing on perfume and checking your bag one last time.

Katherine entered after you gave her permission, stepping inside with a proud smile.

“Minhyuk is waiting for you in the living room,” she announced warmly. She was proud of you, proud that you were taking steps to focus on your life and find clarity—even in your relationships.

Unlike Jungwoo, who buried himself in work and showed no interest in any of the daughters of the family’s business partners, you had decided to give Minhyuk a chance. You had met him at one of the many charity events his father hosted. As usual, you and Jungwoo were dragged to these events to present the image of a happy, business-minded family, destined to inherit the empire.

At the start of the evening, you and Jungwoo greeted the hosts before being promptly abandoned by your parents, who left to socialize and discuss business with other guests. Jungwoo wanted to catch up with a friend but hesitated to leave you alone. Only after you assured him it was fine did he finally leave, while you wandered off to distract yourself with the appetizers at the party since you weren’t allowed to drink yet.

“You might like this one; the dough is made from potatoes,” a male voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see who it was. You recognized him—he was the son of one of your father’s friends.

“Thank you...” you murmured shyly, feeling slightly uneasy under his persistent gaze.

“I’m Minhyuk. It’s a pleasure,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. When you hesitantly offered yours, he brought it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your delicate skin.

Later, you asked your mother to clasp the necklace around your neck, and she happily obliged. As you looked up from your purse to the mirror, you caught sight of her face beaming with pride.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” she said, resting her chin on your shoulder and gently adjusting your hair. “It makes me happy to see you giving someone from our circle a chance. Do you think he can make you happy?”

You hesitated for a moment. It was too soon to tell—after all, you had only met him two weeks ago, and tonight was your first official date. But if he continued behaving as he had been, you were sure the answer would be yes.

“I think so, mom…” you replied, smiling.

“Good. That’s all that matters,” she said, brushing your arms affectionately. “Now go, don’t keep him waiting!” Katherine encouraged you, handing you your purse before ushering you out.

As you descended the stairs, you could hear two male voices, which you quickly identified as your father and Minhyuk. The moment they noticed your presence, both turned to face you with smiles. Lee Minhyuk always had a certain sparkle in his eyes whenever you were the center of his attention, but tonight... it felt even more intense. His gaze glimmered like that of a tiger.

But you weren’t happy. Far from it.

You couldn’t believe you had trusted that man. Fury surged through you as you abruptly stood from the bench, slinging your purse over your shoulder. With purposeful strides, your heels clicked loudly against the floor, echoing your growing anger.

“Y/N?” A familiar male voice called out. Turning around, you saw Jeno approaching, his smile widening as he recognized you. “Oh, wow, you look… different,” he remarked, gesturing to your outfit.

You were wearing a sleeveless white dress with a V-neckline, paired with white high heels, a light blue purse, and a matching headband that swept your hair back. It was nothing like the casual clothes you had worn the day you first met.

“Yeah, I look less... Renjun,” you said with a smile. Though the mention of the Chinese boy brought a genuine smile to your face, the scowl on your features remained evident, prompting Jeno to frown slightly.

“Is everything okay? You seem upset. Is this about your... ex-fiancé?” he asked cautiously. But the mere mention of Minhyuk made you roll your eyes.

“I think so...” you muttered with a pout before resuming your stride, expecting him to follow.

“It’s just... the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this was Minhyuk’s plan all along,” you whispered. With every passing thought, the pieces fell into place.

“Jeno!” you suddenly stopped, startling the boy as you grabbed his shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Will you help me?” Your gaze was full of hope, but Jeno averted his eyes, sighing.

“Why is it always me...” he muttered in defeat.

You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around your waist, silently agreeing to assist you. For a fleeting moment, Jeno thought he heard the faint click of a camera shutter, but he dismissed it.

Later that day, you were getting ready to visit Arin’s house. You needed to explain everything to her. After Joy, she was your closest friend. Following your conversation with Jeno and the partial formulation of your plan, you felt a glimmer of hope. Jeno would gather evidence against Minhyuk, you would hold a press conference to clear your name, and everything would fall into place. You’d prove your innocence to everyone—including your parents, though you hardly cared about their opinion—and finally, this ordeal would end.

Or so you thought, until the intercom buzzed.

Picking up the receiver, you heard the doorman’s voice. “Miss Kim, the young man from yesterday is here again. Shall I let him up?” You immediately agreed, knowing the only “young man” from yesterday was Jeno. Placing the receiver back down, you headed to the living room. A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Opening it, you found Jeno, looking flustered and out of breath.

“Oh no, what happened?” you asked, equal parts concerned and irritated.

“Have you seen the news?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling to find what he wanted to show you.

“No, I don’t use social media, and I turned off my phone after leaving my parents’ house,” you admitted, your tone laced with anxiety. You rushed to retrieve your phone from the apartment.

When the screen lit up, it displayed a barrage of missed calls and messages—from your mother, father, Joy, Jungwoo, Jisung, Changbin, Arin, Minhyuk, and... Renjun? Ignoring the others, you opened Renjun’s chat, the crease between your brows deepening.

“You never told me you knew Jeno... or that you were with him after that day. I just hope your ex-fiancé isn’t right about you. If he is... I’ll hate myself for helping a traitor, especially with one of my best friends. What a mess...”

It was clear he was upset. Not that he had any right to meddle in your life, but still, you had considered him a friend. Didn’t he feel the same? And what was he even talking about?

Swallowing hard, you turned to Jeno, who sighed and handed you his phone.

“It seems the heiress of the Kim Group—the cosmetics giant—was indeed having an affair during her engagement to Minhyuk Lee. And the alleged lover? None other than Jeno Lee, the former heir to another enormous brand—”

You stopped reading. Your head throbbed. You couldn’t believe this was happening. The barrage of calls and messages from your parents and Minhyuk already worried you, but now, knowing the potential cause, you were furious. You hadn’t even realized the article was from yesterday, shortly after you had hugged Jeno to solidify your plan.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ignored that sound…” Jeno muttered, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Even my parents called me. My parents, who haven’t spoken to me since I gave up the inheritance,” he added bitterly. “And they congratulated me...” He continued ranting, oblivious to your simmering rage.

All you could feel was hatred. The world around you blurred, and Jeno’s words became distant noise. Nothing mattered except resolving this mess. You weren’t going to wait any longer. If Minhyuk wanted a showdown, you’d give him one.

“Forget the plan. Forget everything. I’ll handle this myself,” you declared, your voice trembling with anger. You didn’t even bother finishing your makeup or applying perfume. Instead, you grabbed your bag and keys, storming out, with Jeno scrambling to keep up.

“What are you planning to do? Hey, slow down!” he called, squeezing into the elevator beside you.

“I’m going straight to Minhyuk. If his goal was to infuriate me, congratulations to him—he succeeded. I’m not going to let him destroy what’s left of my reputation. One question, Jeno—do you have your car?” He nods hesitantly, swallowing hard. As the elevator doors open, you stride into the parking lot with determined, forceful steps, not even knowing which car belongs to Jeno.

“Over here,” he calls from the opposite direction. “God… please don’t let this woman make me crash my car…” he mutters under his breath, eyes closed, opening the passenger door for you.

At the bridal shop where Renjun worked, his melancholic mood was impossible to miss, even for Hyunjin, his coworker and friend. Renjun had been so out of sorts that he couldn’t even tend to customers properly and was relegated to handling the cash register.

“All right, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asked directly, taking advantage of the quiet lull in the shop, where it was just the two of them for the moment.

“Nothing.” Renjun kept his response short, still scribbling idly in his sketchbook. Hyunjin let out an incredulous laugh and snatched the notebook from his hands.

“Listen here, Huang Renjun. Your sulking is dragging down your energy and the whole vibe of the shop. You’re supposed to be the charming designer who makes brides feel excited about their special day, but instead, you’re spreading your dark cloud of misery everywhere.” He wagged a finger in mock reprimand, while Renjun pouted in annoyance. “Look at this!” Hyunjin gestured dramatically at the small flower pot on the counter. “Even the flowers are wilting!”

“It’s just a bad day, Hyunjin. Leave me alone,” Renjun muttered, stretching his hand out to retrieve the sketchbook, but Hyunjin held it out of reach.

“Give it back, Hyunjin.”

“Nope,” Hyunjin replied smugly, tilting his head as he kept the notebook away.

Just as Renjun moved to chase after his friend, the door to the shop opened. He froze in surprise as Mark and Jaemin walked in, both holding coffee cups.

“What are you two doing here?” Renjun asked, perplexed.

“We were nearby and decided to check on you,” Jaemin explained, handing an extra coffee to Renjun, while Mark offered his to Hyunjin.

“You guys really need to stop treating me like some kid who needs constant babysitting,” Renjun grumbled as he sipped his drink.

“So, you’re not upset about the news involving her?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. Hyunjin’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Ooh, who’s ‘her’?” he teased, earning a deadly glare from Renjun as he snatched his notebook back. “Rude,” Hyunjin muttered.

“She’s Renjun’s girlfriend,” Jaemin announced with a grin, making Renjun’s face flush instantly.

“You never told me you had a girlfriend!” Hyunjin gasped in mock offense.

“She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend—I’ve told you a thousand times,” Renjun snapped, clearly irritated, not just with their intrusion into his workplace but with the reminder of the tabloid article showing you and Jeno hugging. That photo. The way Jeno’s hands rested on your waist. Almost as if he were holding you in a way that was… intimate. Just thinking about it made Renjun’s blood boil. And the worst part? He didn’t even know why.

“Renjun,” Mark began, “you got upset when you saw her with Jeno. You were down when she left your house.”

“And, out of twenty thoughts you have a day, twenty of them are about her,” Jaemin chimed in. “You think we didn’t notice how soft and caring you were with her? Just admit it—love at first sight is real, and you miss her because you like her.”

Renjun blinked, the words hitting him harder than he expected, but he shook his head. “I refuse to take relationship advice from either of you… or Haechan.” He sighed, grabbing his coffee and notebook as he stood. “Hyunjin, take over the register—I’m taking my lunch break.”

“Hey! Of all of us, I had the longest relationship!” Jaemin shouted after him.

“That doesn’t count if she was crazy!” Renjun retorted. “And I’ve said it before—you two have the most messed-up love lives of all seven of us.”

Jaemin turned to Mark and Hyunjin, offended. “Did you hear that? I don’t have a messed-up love life…”

“Oh sure,” Mark smirked. “Breaking up with your girlfriend so you could date her best friend? Totally healthy.”

“I broke up with her,” Jaemin said as if it were obvious. “Better than cheating—I still have my principles!”

“Sure, Jaemin. We’ll revisit this tomorrow.” Mark sighed, turning to leave.

“And no one’s going to tell me about Renjun’s girl?” Hyunjin complained.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a glance and grinned.

“Mind your own business, Hyunjin,” Mark said, walking out.

“A man with too much time on his hands…” Jaemin muttered, chuckling as Hyunjin’s grumbled curses followed them out.

After navigating Jeno’s car with hurried directions and nearly causing a crash, you both arrived at your family’s company. Predictably, Minhyuk was with Hajoon.

The guards blocked you at the entrance.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous.

“Apologies, ma’am. We have explicit orders not to let you in,” one of them said firmly.

Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, we should leave.”

You shook him off. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll cause a scene that’ll cost both of you your jobs. I may be disinherited, but my mother—who owns half of this company—would love to hear about this.”

The guards hesitated, fear flashing in their eyes, but they held their ground. Just as you inhaled to raise your voice, a familiar voice cut in.

“Stop this nonsense. Let them through.”

Amy—your father’s assistant—had always been kind. Like your mother, she never bought into Minhyuk’s lies.

“But, ma’am—” one guard began, but she silenced him.

“Do as I said. Mr. Kim is expecting them.”

As the guards stepped aside, you hurried to Amy’s side.

“You’re here for Minhyuk, aren’t you?” she asked as you moved toward the elevator.

“‘Here for’ is putting it lightly,” you muttered.

“She’s joking,” Jeno cut in quickly. “No hitting anyone today.”

Amy chuckled. “A good choice in company,” she teased, making both of you flush.

“We’re just—”

“Friends,” you both said simultaneously.

Ah, young love, Amy thought, smiling knowingly.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the soft background music that played in the room. As soon as the doors opened, Amy spoke up, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“He’s in your brother’s old office.”

“What?” Your frustration with Minhyuk had already been simmering from everything happening in your life, but now… your anger extended to your father as well.

“After your brother stepped down, he gave the office to... him. I’m sorry…” Amy trailed off. You didn’t respond, simply reached into your bag for your phone and marched straight toward the office.

Throwing the doors open with force, you startled Minhyuk, causing a few papers to flutter to the ground. He was reading over some contracts.

“Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, hurriedly gathering the documents before standing up.

“No, but you must be, testing the limits of my patience like this.” You weren’t one to raise your voice or pick fights. Confrontations had never been your style—until you rebelled against your father. And if you could go head-to-head with him, dealing with someone like Minhyuk was child’s play.

“Quite the audacity, don’t you think?” Minhyuk sneered, circling his desk to approach you, but Jeno swiftly stepped in front of him. “Ah, so now you’ve got a guard dog too?” He laughed mockingly. “You barge into my office with your little lover in tow... truly lacking decorum.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. You needed a moment to process his words. The tension between Jeno and Minhyuk thickened, the air practically vibrating with animosity. Then your laughter rang out, shattering the quiet. Both men turned to you, confused.

“Do you really think slandering me will get you what you want, Minhyuk? The company? Hajoon’s share? Because, let me assure you, my mother’s portion isn’t up for grabs.” Your smile didn’t waver. “I’ve figured out your plan, ever since my mother told me you attended the family meeting about the marriage and claimed I was on board with everything. Frankly, Minhyuk…” you sighed. “But this smear campaign? I’m curious—what’s your angle? Surely you’re not trying to turn the public against me for no reason… or are you?” You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement as they locked onto his. “Are you really that pathetic, trying to ruin a woman’s reputation just because she didn’t marry you?”

Jeno watched, perplexed, as you calmly dismantled Minhyuk’s facade. He didn’t fully understand your tactics, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t leaving you alone with this man. He barely knew him and wasn’t about to take chances.

“You think I’d let you walk away, all radiant and triumphant, after humiliating me like that?” Minhyuk’s voice quivered with barely controlled rage, his smirk gone. “You destroyed my career, my carefully laid plans. But if I destroy your reputation—turn everyone, even your parents, against you—I’ll get what I want. Your brother abandoned his post. You’d be disowned. It was the perfect plan. I didn’t expect you’d actually be cheating, though. Points for me—just look at who’s here.” He gestured at Jeno, who stood with arms crossed.

“Hey, jerk, keep running your mouth and I’ll make sure you end up in a hospital,” Jeno growled for the first time since entering the room. Minhyuk’s response was another derisive chuckle.

“Minhyuk,” you interrupted before the tension escalated further. A fight could wait — Jeno could send him to the hospital later if needed. “It doesn’t matter what you do. My mother controls most of the business, and guess what? She’s on my side.” You grabbed Jeno’s arm, leading him out. With a playful smirk, you blew Minhyuk a kiss. “I’d brace for a headline-worthy scandal this week!” you teased, winking before walking out.

“Care to explain?” Jeno asked as the elevator arrived.

You pulled your phone from your open bag, stopping the recording. “This, Jeno, is how I clean my name.” Your sly smile deepened as you bit your lower lip. The elevator doors closed, and you pressed the button for the ground floor. “A few months ago, I would have done nothing. I’d have waited for my mother or Jungwoo to handle it, as always.” You sighed, weariness weighing your voice. “But I’m done living like that. After this, I’m walking away. I’ll give up my inheritance, finish my degree, and leave this mess behind.” Bitterness lingered on your tongue as you spoke. The decision had barely settled in your mind, and already regret nipped at the edges of your resolve. How could you stay? How could you leave?

The car ride back was quiet until you reached for your phone, dialing Arin’s number.

“Finally, you’re alive! I had to call Joy to check if you were okay!” Her voice was a mix of relief and irritation, and you couldn’t blame her.

“Sorry, Arin. Everything exploded after the wedding. I’ve barely talked to anyone—just family, and now Minhyuk…” You rolled your eyes at the mention of his name.

“I saw his press conference online. What a psycho. Good thing you escaped. When I see him, though, I swear—”

You cut her off with a laugh. “I’m fine now. More than fine. But I called for a reason. I have an audio clip I need you to release. An article would be better, but a leak will do. Just make sure it hits the internet.” You sent her the file. “It’ll need some editing.”

Arin, a dedicated journalist for a respected firm, specialized in professional reporting. She’d climbed the ranks with sheer determination, earning her own column. Still, bending the rules for a friend didn’t hurt, right?

You heard her sharp intake of breath before she spoke again. “I can’t believe that scumbag.”

“And he won’t get away with it. Can you release it by the end of the week?” You knew it was a lot to ask—she was busy, and this wasn’t exactly her beat—but desperation called for boldness.

“Girl, I’ll get it out today!” The sound of furious typing reached your ears, filling you with hope. “I’m on it. But don’t think you’re getting away—I want the whole story later!” She hung up before you could even say goodbye. Honestly, how wasn’t she working for a gossip column?

Jeno glanced at your radiant smile. “I take it things went well?”

“They did,” you said, satisfaction lacing your voice as the car sped down the road.

"Yes! Arin is my friend, a journalist. She’s going to publish the audio along with a story. She said it might be out by today." Your enthusiasm was contagious.

"So, in the end, you didn’t even need me." He murmured playfully, feigning offense. His light-heartedness made you laugh as you squeezed his shoulder in gratitude.

"Oh, stop it. You were a huge help. If it weren’t for you, I might not have seen the article. And how else would I have confronted that weasel?" You smiled warmly at him, your eyes full of sincerity.

Night had fallen, bringing with it a weight of worry for Renjun. You hadn’t answered his messages, which was understandable given the accusations he had thrown at you—but Jeno wasn’t responding either. None of the guys, for that matter, and that only heightened his concern. The last update they had about Jeno was from that disastrous article, and it wasn’t like him to simply vanish.

A knock on the door made Renjun’s heart leap with hope, silently praying it was his friend. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"I… came to return your clothes…" you murmured, lifting the bag. "And… maybe talk." You sounded far more timid than usual.

Renjun’s eyes didn’t leave you. Your style perfectly suited your figure, matching your personality in ways that had always mesmerized him. A smile tugged at his lips, and he stepped aside to invite you in.

"Look, I was a jerk in that message. I want to apologize." He closed the door behind you, his words rushed with guilt. "I didn’t mean to offend you like that. I was just… frustrated. I don’t even know why..."

You set the bag on a nearby shelf and approached him, a gentle smile on your face.

"I think I know why..." Your hand cupped his cheek in a soft, tender touch filled with warmth. "But… let me show you something first."

Reaching into your bag, you retrieved your phone, unlocked it, and turned it toward him.

It was Arin’s article. Published barely an hour ago, it was already going viral. Of course, your name, Jeno’s, and Minhyuk’s were at the heart of the buzz. Your lips curved into a proud smile—not just for yourself, but for your friend, who had pulled off this exposé in record time.

"See? He was lying. I’m not a traitor. I never even met Jeno before that day here."

Renjun’s gaze shifted from the screen to meet your eyes.

"I needed to show you, I—"

You were cut off as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms circling you with fierce protectiveness.

"I believe you," he murmured against your neck, his voice low and muffled. "I just got so upset because..." He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "The thought of you with him… with anyone else, it tore me apart. And it’s crazy. I’m falling for you after only a day. I’m sorry." His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ve never been a romantic, but… Jaemin said something about love at first sight. And now I feel like a fool."

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. Drawing closer, you rubbed your nose affectionately against his cheek.

"Jun…" you whispered, his name dripping with tenderness, making his heart swell. "Jeno talked to me, too. I think he and Jaemin might be on the same wavelength." You giggled softly, running your fingers through his soft hair. "He told me about love at first sight, too. Opened my eyes. And he said a certain someone got all pouty after I left..."

You sang the words with teasing delight as you pulled away.

Renjun watched you with wonder, his lips curling into a shy, almost bashful smile as his cheeks flushed pink. That timid grin made your heart flutter, a sigh escaping your lips.

Unable to hold back any longer, you threw your arms around him once more, drawing his delicate face toward yours and pressing your lips against his.

For a moment, he was too stunned to react, but when it finally hit him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush together. The kiss was delicate, deliberate. Your fingers caressed the back of his neck as your lips moved in slow, perfect harmony with his. His hands slid beneath the hem of your short top, finding your bare skin. The warmth of his touch made you gasp softly.

"Jun..." you breathed his name, your voice trembling as his lips grazed your neck in slow, lingering kisses, each touch igniting a deeper burn beneath your skin. Your eyes remained shut, surrendering to the heat spreading through your body. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you as your knees turned weak beneath the onslaught of sensation.

"Don’t make me stop... please," he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and uneven as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You tugged at his hair, and a groan rumbled low in his throat, sending a shiver straight to your core.

"Then take me to bed... your windows aren’t covered," you teased, your voice low and dripping with playful temptation. His lips curved into a wicked smile as his teeth grazed your pulse point, making your body shudder.

Renjun didn’t wait. He guided you with unsteady steps toward the guest bedroom—his own was too far, and he wouldn’t risk losing another moment. His hands roamed freely over you, sliding your blazer from your shoulders with unrestrained hunger, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Your fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, reveling in the heat of his skin, before tugging impatiently at his shirt. He tore it off in one swift motion, baring himself to you, his gaze dark and full of desire.

You melted into the mattress beneath him as he lowered you down, his lips claiming yours again in a kiss that was raw, urgent, and unrelenting. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, gliding up your thigh with deliberate slowness, teasing you until his fingers brushed the damp heat between your legs.

"Are you sure I can?" His voice was hoarse, trembling with restraint as his eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable, his lips swollen from your kisses. His hair fell messily across his forehead, making him heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Yes, Jun... I want you," you whispered without hesitation, your voice trembling with longing as your eyes stayed locked on his.

A soft curse fell from his lips as he slid his fingers beneath your panties, his touch finding you already slick with need. A groan of satisfaction escaped him as he felt your wetness, his fingers circling your swollen clit before slipping inside with aching precision. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with practiced care, his hand moving with a rhythm designed to unravel you.

You rocked your hips into his hand, your body begging for more. He understood—oh, he understood perfectly—and his pace quickened, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. Pleasure coiled low in your belly, sharp and consuming, as your moans filled the room, each one pushing him higher with pride and lust.

The sound of your pleasure was everything. He had never felt so intoxicated, so lost in the power of making someone fall apart for him. You were his, and he would prove it over and over again, all night if he had to—until there was nothing left but the sound of his name on your lips.

Just as your orgasm hovered at the edge, his fingers withdrew. The sudden emptiness made you whimper in frustration, your body trembling, your eyes heavy with need. Renjun grinned, wicked and full of mischief, as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he tasted you, his tongue swirling around his fingertips with a hum of pure pleasure.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. You were his perfect indulgence, the sweetest addiction he’d ever known.

He made quick work of your shirt and panties, his gaze darkening as he took in your bare body. Heat crept into your cheeks, a flicker of shyness in your chest, but Renjun left no room for shame. His touch worshiped you, his eyes devoured you like you were a vision made for him alone.

He knelt between your thighs, spreading them gently but firmly. A sigh escaped him—deep, reverent—as he pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, savoring the moment before lowering himself further.

Then his mouth was on you.

His tongue licked a long, slow path through your folds, tasting every inch of you as though you were the rarest, most exquisite thing he had ever had the privilege of devouring. Your breath caught, and your fingers twitched in his hair, but you were too weak to hold on.

When he sucked your clit, just hard enough, your back arched, a cry ripping from your throat as your body convulsed. His name spilled from your lips, again and again, a chant, a prayer, a plea.

Renjun was relentless. The world faded. There was no time, no thought—only him, only pleasure, only the stars bursting behind your eyes as he unraveled you completely, again and again.

Your body trembled as the pressure within you built higher, the crest of your orgasm drawing nearer with every flick and swirl of his tongue. A desperate prayer echoed in your mind—please don’t stop, not again. He seemed to hear your unspoken plea. His tongue thrust deep inside you, curling, stroking with languid, deliberate intensity that made you whimper and moan in pure abandon.

The tension shattered, a wave of release crashing over you as bliss and calmness flooded every nerve. You cried out softly, your body melting into the mattress as the world dissolved into sensation. Renjun groaned against you, his tongue savoring the sweet, sticky essence of your pleasure. His lips and tongue worked meticulously, devouring you until there wasn’t a trace left, kissing the delicate skin of your thighs like a man utterly intoxicated.

He kissed his way upward, his mouth mapping a trail of reverent worship—across your trembling stomach, the curve of your breasts, until finally capturing your lips in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. The taste of yourself on his tongue only heightened the heat between you, making the kiss more intimate, more forbidden, more perfect.

“I don’t think I can live like before now that I’ve tasted you,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

A weak, breathless giggle escaped you as you basked in the afterglow. “You’ve made me your addiction.”

He chuckled, nipping at your neck, his lips brushing over your shoulders, leaving trails of warmth in his wake.

Your hands, still trembling, rested on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. With a playful push, you rolled him beneath you, straddling him. The spark in his eyes ignited, a mixture of amusement and pure, unfiltered desire lighting his face. The sight made your heart race—Renjun, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so yours.

You let your body tease you both, dragging your sore, sensitive core slowly over the hard ridge of his clothed arousal. The friction was electric, drawing a shared, shuddering moan from your lips as his hips bucked instinctively beneath you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need as his hands gripped your hips. He held you firmly but reverently, as if you were both fragile and the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

Every movement of your body sent shockwaves through him, yet he refused to close his eyes. He couldn’t bear to miss a single second—the sight of your flushed, glowing skin, your parted lips still swollen from his kisses, and the way you writhed above him, utterly lost in your shared pleasure.

You moved together, lost in each other, and the world beyond you ceased to exist. There was only this—only him, only you, only the endless rhythm of need and passion and love.

When your movements stilled, Renjun let out a soft, frustrated whimper, his brows furrowing in need. But as he realized what you intended, his expression shifted—desire darkened his eyes as he lifted his hips to help you strip away the last barrier between you. His pants and underwear hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving him gloriously bare before you.

Your breath caught.

Renjun lay there, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat that only heightened his beauty. Your gaze drifted lower, following the lines of his stomach until it settled on him—his cock, flushed and needy, the swollen tip already glistening with arousal. A bead of it pooled just above his navel, and the sight alone made your mouth water.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, part awe, part hunger.

You climbed onto the bed, your hands trembling slightly as they wrapped around his length, feeling the heat of him against your palm. He twitched at your touch, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth. Slowly, reverently, you leaned down, your tongue darting out to catch the trail of arousal that had dripped onto his skin. The taste of him sent a shiver down your spine—salty, heady, intoxicating.

You flicked your gaze upward, watching his face as you took him into your mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His fists clenched the sheets beneath him, his knuckles whitening as he fought to keep still when the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. The restraint, the tenderness, the pure, unselfish desire to never cause you harm made your heart thud wildly.

And then, unbidden, thoughts of Minhyuk crept into your mind—how selfish he had been, how little he had cared for your pleasure. The contrast was stark, almost cruel. Renjun’s passion, his overwhelming affection, his every action was a testament to how deeply he cherished you. The realization tightened your chest, and without meaning to, your eyes welled with tears.

You blinked them away quickly, grateful that he was too lost in bliss to notice.

Focusing once more, you hollowed your cheeks, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm that left him gasping. You cupped his balls, heavy and full, rolling them gently in your hand while your tongue danced along the underside of his cock. His hips twitched involuntarily, and a strangled groan escaped him.

The sounds he made—the breathless whimpers, the way he chanted your name like a prayer—were a symphony of raw, unfiltered need.

You felt him pulse against your tongue, the telltale quiver of impending release. With a final swirl around his sensitive head, you sucked him deep, teasing the slit with your tongue. His body went taut, and a shuddered cry of your name tore from his lips as he spilled into your mouth. The heat, the salty rush of him filled you, and you swallowed without hesitation, relishing how he writhed beneath you.

As his orgasm ebbed, his eyes found yours. He chuckled softly, watching the little grimace that flitted across your face at the bitter taste.

“Cute,” he murmured, his voice still thick with pleasure.

His hand reached for you, and you crawled into his embrace, straddling him once more. The heat between your bodies lingered, and as he pulled you down into a slow, searing kiss, there was no room for anything but him. His passion consumed you, and you gave yourself to it completely.

"Are you tired?" you whispered, your fingers brushing gently over his cheek as he pressed soft kisses to your knuckles, his lips lingering like a lover’s vow.

"Not even close, love," he murmured, a slow, teasing smile curving his mouth. His eyes glimmered with warmth, and you felt your heart race as he drew you in deeper. "We have all night… I’m definitely not worried."

His words, low and sultry, sent a spark of heat through you, and a soft laugh bubbled from your lips just as he rolled you beneath him. His body hovered over yours, his presence surrounding you, intoxicating and irresistible.

Then his lips found yours again—hungry, tender, and overwhelming. The kiss was more than a touch; it was a confession, an unspoken declaration of love and need. Your tongues tangled, a slow and fevered dance that left you breathless, your desire simmering like wildfire between you. His hands roamed your body as though committing every inch to memory, and with every stroke of his lips, every caress, you melted further into the sheer ecstasy of him.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content! 𖹭 masterlist | series masterlist

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[flowerxbunnie]

can you pls pls write about shy reader she and chris are a recent couple and one day he founds out that she likes dirty talk and tries that with her

Dirty Secret

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTYYY smut, lots of dirty talk, degradation/praise

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

Tags: @lustfulslxt

Chris’s POV

I can’t wipe the dumb smile off my face as I peek at Y/n’s nightstand, multiple tubes of chapstick covering the surface along with notebooks, pens, scrunchies, and lots of half empty water bottles. Her personality shows in her room so clearly, methodic but carefree.

These past four months have made me nothing but happy. We’ve done a good job at keeping our relationship out of the public eye after agreeing she didn’t want to handle any kickback from my fans yet. I hate that I can’t show her off, but it’s for the best, at least at this point.

I roam around her room with no ultimate goal, just waiting for her to get back from her nail appointment and I got bored. I scan her makeup table, brushes and random products strewn about as evidence that she’d been here hours before. Her jackets and hats hang on a hook behind her door and I run my fingers across the different fabrics, moving closer to inhale the vanilla scent that floods my mind with images of her. Fairly lights twinkle above her bed, something I’ve definitely taken notice of during all our nights tangled in her sheets.

I move to her bookshelf and look at all the spines of her books, some neatly lined up and some thrown haphazardly into piles. There’s collectible figures of the things she likes, crystals, and random little trinkets littering the shelves. I can’t help but reach out and touch the book that’s lying on the shelf at my eye level, running my fingers along all the multicolored sticky notes she’s placed into her favorite pages.

I guess it was a little too close to the edge, because even my light touch caused it to topple over and fall open, landing face down on the carpet below. I breathe out a curse and lean down to pick it up and put it exactly how I found it. I don’t want Y/n to think I’ve been snooping, because I haven’t. I’m just admiring all the little things that make her room feel like home to her.

I close the book and bring it back up to the shelf, turning it around to glance at the cover. Priest by Sierra Simone. I know a lot about Y/n already, but I didn’t know she was into religion. Sounds like a biography from the summary on the back. Something about a priest breaking their vow of celibacy and needing to confess. My interest is growing, I didn’t think she would enjoy this kind of book, maybe I should take a peek?

I pick the first sticky note my fingers brush across, knowing Y/n highlighted it for a reason. An audible gasp falls out of my mouth as a skim across the words on the page.

“Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen.”

“What the fuck?” I question out loud.

I flip through multiple pages, each sticky note highlighting incredibly filthy words. It’s a fucking sex book. My cheeks burn at the thought of her reading these while she’s alone in her room, wondering what she looks like as she’s turning the pages and writhing with anticipation. I grab onto a pink sticky note and pull on it, flipping it to the page and reading what she had highlighted.

“But I won’t lie. It makes me hard as fuck knowing that I was the first man to taste you.”

This sticky note has her own handwriting smeared across it. I squint to make out the words.

If Chris would have said that to me…

Ouch, I think?

I’m not a vanilla guy by any means, but I’m not the weird fuck from 50 Shades of Grey either. I think our sex life is great, it’s more than enough to keep me satisfied. We’ve made love in the car, fucked while she was bent over her dining room table, stolen kisses in restaurant bathrooms after we snuck away from our friends. It’s all been so exciting to me, and even better because it’s with her.

I continue flying through the pages, my eyes widening at every line she made a point to come back to. This dude talks so much while he’s fucking this chick.

“No, don’t touch yourself, sweetheart. We’re going to get there together.”

Remind Chris to be more vocal!

It all clicks in my bird brain. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s highlighted almost all dialogue. She wants me to talk more during sex. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at speaking my mind while she’s bouncing on me or sprawled out below me. But why hasn’t she told me yet? I hope she hasn’t been disappointed with how things have been going.

I put the book back and angle it as best as I can remember, moving to lay down on top of her comforter. I stretch my back out and throw my arms behind my head, thinking about what I’m going to do when she gets home.

Y/n’s POV

I take my keys out of the door and lock it behind me, smiling as I see Chris’s sneakers sitting on the shoe rack in my entryway. My nails took way longer than I expected and I’m just so excited to be able to waste the rest of my day away with him. I make my way down the hall after placing my shoes next to his and creep into my bedroom, sprinting and jumping to lay beside Chris who’s stretched across my bed.

“Hiiii baby, I missed youuu!” I singsong before pressing a kiss against his stubbly cheek.

“Mmm, missed you more.” he mumbles into my neck as he turns and molds his body into mine.

His arms encircle me and the smell of his cologne floods my senses, washing a wave of comfort over me. I could lay like this forever.

“Let’s see the nails,” he says as he breaks away from me, suddenly sitting up and grabbing my hands.

I sit up beside him and watch as his large hands hold my own, moving my fingers around and watching the duo chrome polish shift colors in the light. His smile spreads from ear to ear as he takes notice of the “C” I asked the nail tech to paint onto my ring finger.

“Aren’t they so cute??” I squeal, so ecstatic at the way they turned out.

“So cute,” he coos, bringing them to his lips to place a tender kiss on each finger. “I think they’d look even cuter wrapped around my cock.” He says in a low growl as he brings my hand down to his lap, shoving my palm onto the fabric of his sweatpants.

I feel his erection through the layers of clothing, rock hard and throbbing. I can’t help but gasp at his words, I’ve never heard him speak like this before. I watch as his pupils dilate, the black overtaking the blue of his iris as he flickers his eyes to my lips.

“Nothing to say, sweetheart?” He asks almost in a belittling tone.

“N-no I just.. I’ve never heard you say something like that,” I squeak out as he pushes my hand down with more force.

“What, you don’t like it?” He says with a smirk.

“I don’t know.. I th-think so..” I stammer.

“When were you gonna tell me, hm? Such an innocent girl reading such filthy books. Does it turn you on?” His hand leaves mine against his hard on and comes up to caress my cheek.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” I spit out at him, my cheeks igniting red with visible embarrassment.

Has he snooped through my room?

“I saw it all, baby. And it’s okay. It’s okay if you need me to tell you how dirty of a girl you are, or how good you make me feel. You have to let me know these things..” he trails off as his thumb brushes against my lip, smearing my peppermint chapstick onto the corner of my mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t… I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” I look down, intimidated by his cold gaze, and he tilts my head back up, his eyes serious.

“It’s not weird. Do you touch yourself to those books baby? Reading about a man talking to a woman like that.. does it make you feel good?” He whispers the last sentence and his free hand finds my inner thigh, caressing and warming my skin.

I nod sheepishly, afraid to speak my thoughts out loud to Chris.

“Use your words. Do you ever imagine it’s me saying those things?”

“Y-yes… every single time.” I say as I release a breath.

He groans and pushes my hair behind my ear, inching closer to me and ghosting his lips over my ear. “Such a naughty girl.”

Shivers fall down my spine as he places a kiss onto the sensitive skin between my ear and jaw, his lips lingering and sucking lightly. He slides the hand on my cheek to the back of my neck, lacing his fingers into my hair and pulling down, my neck exposed to him.

“Look at the way your body reacts to me.” He whispers, placing a finger onto my jugular, and I feel it pulsing mercilessly beneath his touch.

He moves his hand to grip around my throat, his thumb and fingers pressed firmly against both pulse points of my neck. My head begins to tingle, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His lips pepper wet kisses along my jaw, every one of them seeping into my skin and heightened from the constricted blood flow.

“You like that, my hand around your throat? I could squeeze as hard as I want.” he says before constricting his grip.

My core begins to throb hearing his inner thoughts spill from his mouth. My field of vision starts to shrink, a black vignette closing in.

“I’d never hurt you like that, sweetheart. But don’t you like the risk?” He suddenly releases his hold on my throat and all my blood rushes back up into my head. I’m dizzy and completely aroused for him.

I nod furiously before his lips crash against mine, low growls seeping out of his throat and being released into my mouth. He bites and tugs at my bottom lip before pulling away and licking a hot stripe up my chin and back up to my mouth. His lips meet mine again, his mouth open and begging for my tongue. I push it into his mouth only to be dominated, not standing a chance as his hunger grows.

Chris’s hands latch onto my hips, lifting me off the mattress and into his lap, his erection poking at my core. He breaks the kiss and grabs the hem of my shirt, sliding his hands up along with the fabric. I help him get it off, discarding it somewhere in my room. His eyes burn holes into my chest, examining the bralette covering the skin. He grabs the bottom and slides it up, my breasts bouncing as they fall out in front of him. He pushes the excess fabric up to rest on the plate of my chest.

“Fuck, Y/n. If I died with my face in your tits I’d be happy.”

He begins ravaging my breasts, nipping and licking and leaving red and purple marks across the skin. He sucks my nipples while looking so deep into my eyes I start to think he can see the back of my skull. The line of pain and pleasure is completely blurred when he takes one of my swollen nipples between his teeth and tugs on it.

“F-fuck, Chris..” I cry out, bucking my hips instinctively and pressing down onto his throbbing dick.

He lets out a deep moan, gripping my waist and prompting me to stop my movements. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

I let out a little grin and begin to rock back and forth again, his head falling against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. His cock rubs against my clit through the multiple layers of clothing, but the pressure and friction still causes both of us to pant and moan in unison. He brings his head back up and grips my hips tighter this time, my body unable to move.

“Such a dirty girl. Can’t listen to simple instructions.”

He removes his shirt, a layer of sweat starting to form on his skin, then brings my bra over my head, not bothering with the clasp. He throws it across the room and then lifts my legs to remove my shorts before lifting me up and sliding his sweatpants off, all of which meet the same fate as the rest of the discarded clothes. He presses a hand against my chest, my back hitting the bed as he pushes me down. He comes to hover over me, his eyes dark and half lidded. His knee is pressed inbetween my thighs touching my core with a teasing amount of pressure.

“You’ve already made such a mess, baby..” he says with false concern, referring to the wetness that has seeped through my panties and is touching his skin.

“I’m s-sorry..” I whine, fighting the urge to grind against his knee.

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’ll help you out.”

Chris trails kisses down my chest and stomach, randomly sucking marks into my skin on the way down. He circles his tongue around my navel before licking across it, a trace amount of his warm saliva dripping in. He traces his tongue along the lace hem of my panties, his breath burning against my skin as he grips it with his teeth.

“Please, Chris..” I whine and push him closer to the place I need him most.

His eyes show his grin as he dips his face down, flattening his tongue across the fabric covering my core. He licks and sucks at it, humming and closing his eyes as he spreads my legs apart.

“So sweet,” He whispers as he flicks his tongue up and down.

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and pulls, his mouth only disconnecting for a brief second to slide them down my legs before his tongue finally connects with my bare pussy. I arch my back off the bed and cry out as his tongue works against my heat. I’m a mess under him- gripping the sheets, tugging on his brown waves, grabbing my own breasts, doing whatever I can to release some of the tension building up in my body.

“You like the way my tongue feels on you, princess?” He asks in a raspy voice as he wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yes.. fuck please keep going..” I pant, not wanting to lose momentum as my climax has started inching its way to the top.

“How about you do what you need? Use my face and get yourself off.”

He leans back down and presses his tongue against me, holding still as he keeps eye contact. I start circling my hips, feeling the way his tongue remains in place as I grind against it. I grip onto his face and pull it closer, moving my hips down so his nose rubs my clit and his tongue rubs up and down my folds. I buck up and down in complete control and he hums against me to the point I feel like my intestines are vibrating. I speed up and increase the pressure as my stomach begins to ache with a familiar feeling.

I nearly scream, tensing up as my body burns through my climax. He remains still just letting me use him as I ride through it and come down, my grip on his hair relaxing and my body falling slack on the bed.

“Taste yourself baby. Let me show you what you did, all for me.” He whispers against my lips after he climbs to hover over me.

I’m still trying to catch my breath as his lips collide onto mine. I taste my own juices on his tongue, sweet and tangy. He presses his hips down onto my stomach and reminds me of his need, humping forward a few times and moaning into my mouth.

“Now are you gonna bend over or just sit there and look pretty?” He growls as he swiftly stands up and pulls his boxers down.

His pink tip is swollen and leaking precum. His grips his hand around his base and squeezes until his knuckles turn white, his head falling back out of pleasure or maybe the throbbing pain, there’s no way to tell. His eyes lock onto mine and he starts pumping up and down on his dick, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

I pull myself to my feet as quick as I can and limp to the end of the bed, my legs like jelly after tensing up so hard.

“That’s cute. Can’t wait to carry you to the shower after this one.” he smirks and licks his lips.

My breath hitches as I turn around and bend over the footboard of the bed. His hands run up and down my ass, jiggling it before giving me a light smack with both hands. I gasp, jumping forward and my ribs hit the wood I’m bent over.

“So fucking hot, can’t believe this is all mine,” he coos, running his fingers down my folds before wiping my juices onto my lower back.

I feel his head against my clit, slick with warm precum. He soaks himself in my juices as he swipes it across my entrance, barely dipping in as he grips my hip with one hand.

“Chris.. oh my god. P-please just fuck me.” I whine, my legs already shaking and twitching.

“Mmm I plan on it, baby.” he whispers before slowly pushing forward.

He slowly gives me inch by delicious inch, my walls stretching around his thickness as we moan out together. He starts slow and stays deep inside me, barely pumping in and out. He runs his hands up and down my spine as he rocks into me, his breathing slow and controlled. My pussy clenches around him as his tip brushes repeatedly over a sensitive spot.

“P-please Chris go faster,” I draw out in a moan.

He listens. His thrusts become rough and rapid, my ribs slamming against the wood with each stroke but my brain seems to tune it out. He keeps his grip on my waist with one hand and reaches around to my face with the other, shoving two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them hard, swirling and lapping my tongue around them.

“Such a fucking slut, so willing to have all your holes filled, aren’t you?” He pants as he hooks his fingers onto the corner of my mouth and pulls back.

“Nhgnh.. fuck..” is all I can manage through his manipulation of my mouth.

“What? Am I fucking you dumb? Can’t even get your words out.”

I moan in response and feel my pussy throbbing around him, my lower abdomen on fire as I climb to my next release.

“S-so close..” I mumble as drool drips down my chin.

He lets go of my mouth and grips my waist, his thumbs pressing into the dimples on my back.

“You need me to cum in you, don’t you? I know you wanna be filled up, so full your eyes start to float.” He pumps as deep as he can go, my eyes rolling back into my head and words failing to form. “Answer me.” He spits with a smack on my ass.

“Please… p-please cum in me. Need it.. s-so bad Chris!”

With that he shoves his hips against me and shoots his hot load into my pussy, coating my walls as I fall over the edge with him. I’m screaming his name as he moans mine, pure ecstasy echoing through my room. I feel his cum leaking down my legs, such a big load that it has nowhere else to go. His thrusts slow down before they come to a halt, his dick still twitching inside me.

He pulls out and hums as he backs up and takes in the sight in front of him. I have no energy to stand, my muscles aching and tired.

“Look at that. God I wish I could burn this into my brain.”

He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my torso and lifts me, my legs helping very little to hold me up. He hooks an arm under my thighs and picks me up to hold me bridal style. I’m so tired that my head can only manage to flop against his chest, and I hear his rapid heartbeat in my ear.

He starts to walk towards my bathroom but first places a lingering kiss on my forehead. I can feel the smile on his lips.

“Told you I’d have to carry you to the shower.”

[drdemonprince]

hello <3 child abuse tw for the latter half of this ask--

my childhood sexual fantasies from age 4-5 that i used to make up and play out with a friend were about being a maid, wearing too much makeup and being punished by being sent to the dungeon and then coercively the dungeon was soooo cold that we just simply haddddd to go and cuddle up to the prince and let him have his way with us. Still love a good fantasy of using sex to live under difficult circumstances!! Ultimately my lifelong obsession with being coerced into sex did help me to understand some really amorphous, incestuous/exploitative experiences in early childhood and how they shaped me, and how my own fascination played its role in how I worked with all of that over my later years, but somehow the fun, exciting, life-giving aspect of my sexuality has continued to be so central to my personality and just such a source of beauty amongst it all!! yay for creative play! thanks for giving us a space to celebrate the complexity of it all <3

yayy!! i love the oh no its so cold i have to let you ravish me piece here that's so hot and adorable. As you probably know I get a lot out of coercive sexual scenarios and also experienced some fucked up sexual coercion as a kid; the fact that I seem to be wired for / by what was done to me, but can turn this on its head and make it into a fun thing is so fucking cool.

(though part of me also suspects that this propensity for coercive sex in which one plays a passive role is actually a really common defense system that the body enacts during forced sex as an instinct, and that a LOT of kink play actually involves just working to set this instinctual effect off consensually, regardless of whether a person had an early trauma or not. kind of a mammalian drowning reflect but for being assaulted, which happens to have kind of fun feeling effects if you're actually safe when you enact them. it makes sense that a person who can't resist an assault would physically respond with arousal in order to reduce the risk of further harm and minimize damage to physical tissues. just a pet theory i have. anyway enjoy!!!)

[enkas-illusion]

(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 2/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff (for starters), smut (main course), piv sex, protected sex, oral (f.receiving), various positions, overstimulation, squirting, dom!Eren, sub!reader, porn with a lot of plot basically, language.

Chapter Summary: First date with Eren and everything that unfolds after ;)

Author’s Note: Hello, this could’ve been divided into two chapters but I was way too eager to publish it all together lol. Also, I try using y/n as little as I possibly can since I’m aware it often pulls a lot of readers out of the experience slightly, but in some sentences it just can’t be helped so bear with me! :P

Song Dedication: House Of Cards by Radiohead / Erode by TENDER

Part 1 | Part 2

You stand in the exact same spot you'd kissed Eren last night, as you wait for him to park his bike to the far end of the lot. 

Looking down at the cute bouquet of Hydrangea, a blush creeps up on your cheeks as you look up to see Eren walking towards you.

You feel your heart thumping louder than usual, maybe it was the post-date jitters of anticipation or maybe it's the wine you downed as you chatted the night away with the handsome man in front of you — if there's one thing you're certain of, it's that this has been the best first date you'd ever been on.

~~~

When Eren texted you in the morning, wishing you a good morning with a “looking forward to the date princess?”, you damn near went into panic mode about the tiniest stupid details like which outfit to wear or how to style your hair to look good for him.

Eren had been vague about the location and had only told you to get ready by 7PM. Since you loved the thrill of surprises, you didn’t press further albeit dying to know where he was taking you.

With facetime suggestions from Annie picking her favourites and ultimately telling you ‘you look pretty in whatever you wear babe’, she was of little help. So, you decided to settle on wearing a mini dress that was just the right amount of sexy without being too slutty. 

Once you’re done with makeup and putting on your heels, you check the time to see that it’s quarter to 7, meaning Eren might arrive anytime soon. You pick the helmet he’d given you along with your purse as you walk to your flatmate’s room and knock on her door.

“Yea?” you hear her voice from inside.

“Outfit check,” you reply as you open the door and twirl for her.

“Ooo, sexy mama… poor guy’s gonna have blue balls throughout dinner,” she snorts.

“Sasha! Be serious!” you scold her. She’s about to say something but instead her eyebrows furrow when she looks at your hand.

“What’s that?” Sasha points at the helmet in your hand. Your eyes widen at the realisation.

“Bike! Eren has a bike! I can’t wear this! fuck!” you panic but Sasha clicks her tongue as she jumps out of her bed to rush to her closet. She pulls out a long overcoat and walks towards you.

You keep your things on her side table before wearing the coat and checking yourself out in the mirror. The coat isn’t much longer than the dress but it might just do a good job at covering your legs on the bike.

“Works?” you ask, looking at her through the reflection. 

She nods and grins at you, “Still sexy,” before smacking your ass lightly.

You’re about to complain but are distracted by your phone vibrating on the table and smile at seeing Eren’s name flash on the screen. You greet her with a hurried bye bye as you pick your things up in haste and answer the call. Your pace quickens as you walk out the door informing Eren that you’re on your way when he tells you he’s arrived in the parking lot.

When you walk towards his bike, you see him leaning against it with the bouquet in hand. You eye him up and down to check out his outfit. He’s wearing all black with his hair slicked back, loose strands kissing his forehead. The light blue/purple flowers make for a stark contrast with his outfit. You feel giddy just thinking about how the man you’ve had the biggest crush on is waiting to take you out on a date.

“Hi beautiful,” he greets you, holding out the bouquet for you. However, you lean in to give him a hug first instead.

“Hello, my babygurl,” you giggle, wrapping your hands around his torso. He lets out a laugh as you feel him hug you back tightly.

“‘Ren… I need to be alive in order to eat.” you squirm in his arms, feeling him squeeze you in tighter.

“K… I’ll delay the killing for now,” he releases you but not before placing a light peck on your cheek.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you giggle as you take the bouquet, observing the flowers, “.. so pretty.”

“They don’t even come close to you, bub,” he blurts out and you look up to meet his soft gaze.

“Jeez, you weren’t kidding about being a hopeless romantic,” you say as you try not to grin even further at his comment.

“You haven’t seen the best of it yet… ready to leave?” he asks as he takes the helmet from your hand to gently place it on your head. He catches you by surprise when he kisses the tip of your nose suddenly before turning around to wear his helmet as he gets on the bike.

He tilts his bike slightly for your ease and you hold your purse and the bouquet in one hand, gripping his shoulder for support as you climb up and sit close to him to avoid any sorts of wardrobe malfunction. You fix the coat before hugging him from behind when you hear the engine roar.

“All good?”

“Mhm.” you nod as your grip tightens around his waist.

Eren's a seasoned biker – he's the type to be deemed ‘reckless’ by the general observer but if you're riding behind him, you know you can trust his skills with your life. 

So that's what you do – you close your eyes to feel the wind blowing over your skin gently, relaxing against his back. If it weren't for the excitement of the date, you probably would've fallen asleep due to how peaceful the ride felt.

When the bike comes to a halt, you open your eyes to observe your surroundings. The restaurant gives off an earthy and very one-with-nature vibe.

“Eren, could you hold this for a sec?” You shake the bouquet and he holds it along with your purse instantly. 

You rest both your hands firmly on his shoulders as you get off the bike in one swift motion. You quickly smoothen out any creases that might’ve formed on your dress during the ride. 

As you slightly tug at the hem of your dress to straighten it, Eren chuckles softly, “Don't worry… it looks good.”

“Hmm, okay… don't need this anymore then,” you smile at him as you take off your coat and hold it in your arms.

It's just now that Eren is seeing your dress fully for the first time, the way the fabric hugs your body in the right places, accentuating your curves gracefully. And if you weren’t too occupied with trying to take your helmet off as you looked around to take in the scenery, you would've noticed his eyes confirming what Sasha had said about him – he almost contemplated cancelling dinner to take you home right away, imagining all the things he’d do to you.

“... don't you think?” You turn to look at him as if waiting for him to speak.

“Sorry… what?” Eren mumbles, pulled out of his trance abruptly.

“I said the place has a very naturesque aesthetic to it, don’t you agree?” You repeat your question. 

“Oh… Yea– right– umm, yes, my friend owns this actually,” Eren clears his throat, collecting his thoughts.

“Really? That's so cool!” Your eyes gleam in excitement. Eren gets off, securing both the helmets to the bike before taking the coat from your hand so that he’s carrying the flowers, your coat and your purse in one hand while placing his other hand on your lower back.

“Rennie, I can carry it by myself,” you laugh as you try to grab your stuff from his hand. This only causes him to lift his hand up and out of your reach. Instead, he takes this opportunity to lean down to give a soft peck on your lips.

“Not on my watch. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be sore from yesterday?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Yes, but not so much that I can’t even hold a bouquet… or are you implying that I’m weak?” you touch your heart to feign offence.

“Not at all… my baby’s strong, she can do seven pull ups,” he teases you even further. You simply slap his stomach playfully in response, failing to quickly come up with something witty.

When you enter the restaurant, you’re greeted by Eren’s friend, Niccolo. 

“Hey man, you’ve arrived right on time. Armin just got here too,” Niccolo greets Eren, giving him a bro hug.

Niccolo turns to look at you, “So you're the pretty lady he won't shut up about,” he extends his arm out and you shake it, blushing hard.

“You've got a gorgeous place here,” you reply with a wide smile.

“Thank you,” Niccolo grins before him and Eren exchange a secretive look. He simply motions you both to follow him to the back, across the room.

“Armin?” You ask, curiosity peaking. You recall Eren mentioning the name a few times before.

“All shall be revealed in its own time,” he smirks and you playfully roll your eyes at how smug he sounds.

When Niccolo opens the backyard door, you almost gasp at how pretty the setup is. The garden area has a table for two at the centre with pretty fairy lights lighting up the entire place. 

Your eyes scan over to see an elevated wooden stage space in a corner. You spot a blonde guy with a guitar, busy fixing his chair and adjusting the mic.

“Armin!” Eren yells to get the blonde's attention. Armin looks up and smiles brightly at Eren, giving him a wink and shouting back, “You owe me one now.”

“Thanks man,” Eren chuckles, bowing at the guy.

“The musician who plays here every weekend wasn't available tonight so I pulled in a favour,” Eren tells you as he pulls out the chair for you to sit.

“Thought you’d play the guitar by yourself too,” you joke.

“Won't that make me Mr. Perfect then?”

“Well… that you already are… Mr. Perfect, my babygurl… the list is endless,” you compliment him and it almost comes out as a mumble. You knew his cocky smile would only widen the more you put him on a pedestal.

But you don’t mind holding him in such high regard since he really is one of the kindest, nicest men you’d ever met. None of your exes had ever gone so overboard to make you feel special. Forget about first dates – they hadn’t done anything close to this for even important milestones and anniversaries. It had always been you taking the initiative before, so tonight already feels like an alien experience.

“Is it just us here?” You ask as he sits in front of you.

But before Eren has a chance to speak, Niccolo chuckles, “Yup, Eren was very specific about it when he very rudely disrupted my sleep at 5 in the morning to close the reservations for this area for tonight.”

“Oh stop whining, you and Armin could be the best men at our wedding,” Eren laughs, winking at you and you look down, biting the inside of your cheeks to keep your composure. It’s a harmless joke – of course you know it too! You’re not that delusional – but with the way he’s been treating you so far, you might as well come up with baby names by tomorrow morning.

You feel bad for not getting him anything since you'd assumed he wasn't all that serious about you. Yet here he was, proving you wrong with everything he did!

By the time you’re done with dinner, your heart feels just as full as your belly. The food and Armin’s sweet serenades (which lasted for about 30 minutes before he politely excused himself to go to the kitchen to have dinner with Niccolo) was everything you could've asked for and more. 

Eren mentioned that he’d actually helped Niccolo with some of the recipes on the menu in its initial test runs. So when he asked you what you wanted to have, you told him you’d love to try the recipes he’d worked on. You’re impressed by just how good everything looks when the server assembles a variety of pasta, ravioli, risotto, roasted veggies on your table along with a bottle of rosé.

By the time you’re done with the last bite, you’re convinced this might as well be as good as it gets. You’d downed more than half the bottle by yourself since Eren barely drank a glass as he had to get you back home safely. Feeling a little less nervous, you hold your hand out in front to place it on top of his, “Eren, I don’t think I have enough words to express just how happy my heart is right now… and it’s all because of you.”

He smiles as he moves his hand from under yours to intertwine your fingers together instead. “Then don’t speak, just show me,” he says as he leans forward, pouting dramatically. You laugh as you move the wine glass away before closing the distance and kissing him gently. It’s short and has you longing for more when he pulls away. 

Just as Eren gets up, excusing himself to get to the washroom, Armin walks out into the area. You smile at him as he sits back in his chair.

“Any special requests?” he asks and you get up to walk to him.

“Actually… Do you mind if I borrow your guitar for one song?” you ask him hesitantly, “I will handle it with care I promise.”

“Yeah, it’s alright. Here you go,” he chuckles as he holds the instrument out for you. Armin gets off the chair and you take his place instead, getting a feel of the guitar quickly before Eren returns.

You let out a sigh as you turn the mic away, convinced you’d freak out less without it. When Eren notices you, he walks towards the stage with an amused look on his face.

“I will murder you if you make fun of me… it’s a work in progress,” you warn him before he even tries to tease you about it. Eren brings his hand up to his face and slides it over as if to seal his lips.

“God, you’re making me nervous…” you mumble as you clear your throat. You turn to look at your fingers on the fretboard, holding them in position as you begin strumming the chords to House Of Cards by Radiohead, the melody sounding slightly off tune whenever your fingers miss landing on the right spot. 

You look up briefly to see Eren’s face light up with a bright smile as he instantly recognizes the song before you even begin singing the words. He’d mentioned a few days ago that he’d been obsessed with it lately.

“I don't want to be your friend,

I just want to be your lover

No matter how it ends

No matter how it starts

Forget about your house of cards

And I'll do mine…” you almost stutter when you look up again to see the way he’s looking at you with an intense adoration that has you feeling giddy. Your concentration breaks as you hold his gaze, missing the next chord in the worst way possible. 

You crinkle your nose as your voice breaks into a chuckle when you sing the next line, “... Fall off – and I forgot the next lineee.” 

Eren's laughter booms from his chest, music to your ears and although you’ve failed at serenading your lover, you’re more than happy to be the reason he’s laughing so hard. 

He walks towards you, taking the guitar away from you to hand it to Armin, who’d been giggling and clapping at your attempt nonetheless. Eren holds your hands in his as he pulls you to him, making you stand up. He hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you squirm slightly at the sudden contact when you feel his breath on your skin.

“Thank you,” you hear his muffled voice.

“No, thank you,” you hook your arms around his shoulders tightly. When you hear Armin clear his throat, you move away from Eren’s embrace slowly as you see the blonde hold the guitar in position, pulling the chair towards him.

“Did you know, Eren has another favourite song?” Armin smirks at Eren as he sits back on the chair comfortably. Eren shoots him a look of warning.

“Arlert… I didn’t call you here to embarrass me in front of my girl,” Eren says, his ears turning red from embarrassment. You shush him with a finger on his lips as you encourage Armin some more.

“So dear y/n… how would you like to hear the song that baby Eren used to dance with his mom to?”

~~~

You hadn’t realised how quickly time passed when you’d gotten comfortable talking to Armin as he spilled all the secret lore of Eren’s childhood, ignoring all of his protests. Eren had eventually given up since he was enjoying the way you’d laugh and squeeze his hand from time to time at some stupid yet endearing thing Armin would reveal about his best friend.

So now with Eren standing in front of you in the parking lot of your apartment well into the night, it still feels like you haven’t had enough time with him. He grins as he pockets his key and you take a step towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding the bouquet firmly behind him. 

You don’t need to stand on your toes, thanks to the tall heels you’re wearing. Eren only needs to tilt his head down slightly to close the gap between your lips. He hums contently into the kiss and you can feel his lips break into a big smile as his arms snake around your waist from under the coat.

Your stomach does a somersault at the thought of inviting him up to your house. You break the kiss to suggest going up to your place but are interrupted by your phone ringing in your purse. Pulling away your hands from him, you reach into the bag to dig out your phone.

You check the caller ID and it’s Sasha. “Roommate,” you tell Eren before picking up the call. He simply nods, hands still firmly around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Hey, what’s up?” you answer.

“Hey, I know I said I’d take care of the drinks so sorry to put this on you last minute but could you pleaseeeee get like 2 bottles of vodka, 1 of gin, 1 rum and whatever soda you can find with it on your way back home?” you hear Sasha pleading on the other end.

“Ummm… Are you okay?” You laugh, confused at the weird request.

“Yes? For the party?”

Holy shit! You almost want to cuss your poor memory right about now. While thinking about all things Eren, it had completely slipped your mind that your roommate was throwing a rager tonight.

She’d mentioned it vaguely over the week but you didn’t think much of it since you figured you’d be home anyway.

“Shit, I totally forgot about that,” you hiss.

“No worries, but hurry up before everyone gets mad at Connie and I for forgetting to stock up… you can bring your hottie from the gym with you too if the date's going well.”

You see Eren’s ears perk up at Sasha’s words, lips threatening to break into another one of his smug smiles.

“Righttt… let me call you back in a minute, okay?” You quickly cut her off before she has a chance to say something stupid and hang up the call. 

Eren’s biting his lip to hold back his laughter as he asks you, clearly amused, “Hottie from the gym?”

“Shut up.”

“Have I been on your mind the entire time, bub?” he coos, nudging your cheek with his nose.

“No…” you lie before quickly changing the topic, “Anywayyy, so the house is packed with people. Would you like to come up?”

“Baby, I am not going to share you any longer tonight,” he lifts your chin up with his index finger. “Especially not when I’ve been dying to rip that dress off you all night,” you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks at his words as he leans down to kiss you. He bites and pulls at your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss. 

Eren opens his eyes, pulling back to stare at your lips, your lipstick slightly smudged. He swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, and it feels like he smudges it more instead of fixing it, before his eyes meet yours. 

“Fuck this… we’re going to my place,” he groans. You bite your lip as you nod but your eyebrows furrow quickly at the realisation.

“What about that guy… Jean? Your friend?”

“I couldn’t care less about that horseface. Not gonna let him cockblock me two nights in a row.” Eren declares as he lets go of your waist to grab your wrist. He pulls you with him, taking fast strides to where he’d parked his bike.

“You might want to call your roommate to tell her you won’t be coming home tonight,” he speaks as he puts the helmet on your head.

“I can just text her,” you mutter as you send her a quick text: can’t make it tonight. Going to Eren’s!!!!!! Dnd 

You quickly shut your phone, not waiting for her reply, shoving it in your purse before climbing up on the bike behind Eren. The ride to his place is much shorter as Eren takes every shortcut he can possibly find to get home soon.

When Eren hastily opens the door to his apartment, you step into the dark living room behind him, trying to make as little noise as you can. He locks the door and you take off your footwear, placing all your things on the coffee table of the living room haphazardly. 

Eren glances briefly in the direction of Reiner’s room to see the door has been shut, meaning Jean’s probably fast asleep. Not wanting to waste another second, Eren pulls you closer, sliding the coat off your body as goosebumps rise all over your skin at his touch.

You close your eyes as soon as your lips meet, relishing the way his lips feel against you. Eren dips his tongue into your mouth, dominating the kiss as he towers over you, holding you by the waist. You hook your arms around his neck for support as his hands glide down to play with the hem of your dress.

You let out an involuntary whimper when his lips move to your neck at the same time his fingers slide under your dress to dig into the flesh of your ass.

“Fuck, Ere–” you bite your tongue in an attempt to stifle your moans as Eren pulls the strap of the dress down your shoulder with his teeth.

“Are you not one of the quiet ones, baby?” he teases as he bites the skin over your shoulder while his fingers hook around the band of your underwear before releasing it with a soft smack.

Your nails dig at his shoulders as you shake your head before breathing out a low ‘no.’ Eren’s enjoying this a little too much, his fingers moving dangerously close to your core. When his fingers swipe over your clothed pussy excruciatingly slowly, it feels like his brain might short circuit at how wet you already are. 

“‘Ren– please,” you beg as your fingers move down to his bicep in an attempt to get him to move faster. But instead he pulls his hands away and you’re about to complain but it turns into a yelp instead when he catches you by surprise as he lifts you up bridal style.

“Poor Jean’s gonna have a noise complaint,” Eren snickers in a low voice as he carries you to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him with his foot as he moves to the bed, dropping you onto the mattress before climbing up on top of you. He leans to the side to switch on the bedside lamp and it softly illuminates his features.

You lift up to kiss him. He pulls you onto him till you’re straddling his lap, your pussy fluttering when you feel his hard cock pressing against you. You grind your hips, eyes closing shut with your head lolling back, moaning his name at how good the friction feels.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Eren groans when your fingers in his hair lightly pull at his strands. You knit your eyebrows in pleasure when you feel his hands squeeze your breasts from over your dress.

“You’re– mmh– one to talk,” you retort, moving your hips in a steady motion. Eren grabs your wrists to hold them up before pulling your dress over your head in one swift motion, discarding it to the floor.

“Did you wear this for me, pretty?” he says as he observes the lingerie you’re wearing – a blood red lace set. His mouth latches onto one of your boobs, wetting the fabric as he teeths your hardened bud.

“Ahh– jus– wanted to look good for you,” you mewl as you rest your head on his shoulder, grinding faster, feeling yourself getting wetter by the minute.

“Thank you baby. But– hmm– I can’t take my eyes off you even in your oversized gym tees.” he breathes out as he stills your movements by gripping your hips firmly.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg as you lift your head up to look at him, trying to move despite him holding you in place.

“No. I want you to cum on my face,” he says sternly, looking you in the eyes and you know it’s not a request. You nod desperately and his lips curve into one of those smug smiles as he lies back down on the bed, pulling at your hips till you’re on your knees, your core hovering over his face.

“Sit.”

You obey as you slowly lower yourself over his lips, holding most of your weight onto your hands as you lean forward to rest them on the mattress near his head. You hear a tsk as Eren yanks the thin fabric of your thong to a side before digging his fingers into your hips to pull you down closer.

You let out a desperate whimper, feeling as if you’re almost about to lose your fucking mind when he licks a strip up your wet folds. You breathe out a series of cusses, getting louder each time his tongue caresses your clit.

“Fuc- Eren, don’t stop!” you cry out loud. His tongue dips into your hole, swirling to lap at your juices as the tip of his nose brushes against your clit. You squirm as you grip the sheets tightly to steady yourself. He groans as he sucks and licks your pussy, the sound of his voice along with the wet noises of his mouth go straight to your head and you feel yourself getting closer.

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper as you try to pull away from his face. You feel him claw at your ass cheeks before pulling you back into place, increasing the brutal pace of his tongue.

“Pleas– fuck– Eren!” you cry as your hips twitch violently as your orgasm washes over you. Your legs shake, almost giving in as you grab Eren’s hair with shaky hands. 

“‘Ts too much,” tears well up in your eyes as your body jerks involuntarily, reacting to each of his licks. Eren knows he’s overstimulating you, feeling a sense of accomplishment at the way your body’s reacting to him and your sweet cries encouraging him to keep pushing you over the edge once more.

He grips at your sides to flip your body so that you’re lying flat on your back. Before you have a chance to close your legs shut, he yanks off your underwear and tosses it to the side. He flashes you a sinister grin, his chin coated with your slick, before diving back down between your legs and spreading them open roughly with his hands.

He spits near your entrance, spreading it around with two fingers before sliding them into you. You try to steady your breathing as you close your eyes, feeling the sweat trickle down your forehead. As he curls his fingers inside you, your back arches as your legs shake. 

“Fuck–”

You roughly tug at his hair as you try to close your legs. He suddenly pulls away completely before grabbing your thighs to shove your legs up till they’re pressing into your chest. As his left hand holds you in place, his mouth’s back at it again, now focusing solely on your clit while his right hand moves down to finger you again.

As you get closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you sense the familiar feeling build up. You claw at his arm as you try to warn him, “Ren, I– ahh– I might squir– ngh.”

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel him make a humming sound as he keeps on licking you fervently, curling two fingers up to hit the right spot inside you over and over again. You let out a loud cry when you feel the release hit you hard, your brain too foggy to feel any sort of shame at the way you wet the bed and the top of his shirt. Your body twitches as he loosens his grip and your legs fall back down limply. You hear him mumble a soft ‘fuck baby’, his eyes fixated on your hole twitching and the damp mess under you. He pulls out his wet fingers and holds them up in front of him before sucking them clean.

Your chest heaves as you look down at him with a fucked out expression on your face. You gulp as you stare into his eyes. It’s a sight you might never get over – it’s the first time a man has succeeded at making you squirt. He’s smiling lazily at you, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his sweaty torso underneath and you think you might as well say goodbye to your vibrator if this is who you’re getting instead.

Good lord, he’s literally perfect.

You break eye contact when his gaze feels too intimidating, as you sit back up and tug a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the wet patch where you’d squirted. 

“Taste so good, baby,” he compliments you and you look up to see him closing the distance between you, his shirt already tossed on the floor. He moves a hand back to unclasp your bra, taking it off as he whispers softly in your ear, “You’re so pretty you know that?” you blush at his compliment as you trace your fingers down his abs.

“Eren, I can’t wait any longer,” you plead as your hand moves over his bulge and you unbutton his pants before sliding your hand in to pull out his dick. You gulp as you look down, his cock is painfully hard with precum coating the tip. You glide your thumb over, pulling his foreskin down and he lets out a low groan. Feeling encouraged, your other hand presses against his chest to signal him to lie down. You move with him, lowering yourself till your face is inches away from his tip. You look up to meet his gaze as you pull his pants down along with his boxers to free him completely. You start with tiny kitten licks as you move down his shaft, fingers tracing over gently to tease him.

“Fuck, baby wait,” he breathes out, “I can’t– I need to fuck you first.” 

Eren sits up abruptly, pulling your hands away from his cock and giving you a quick peck before jumping out the bed. You observe him as he rummages through his bedside drawer with furrowed eyebrows. He turns to open the tall mirror cabinet next to the door.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Do you not have any condoms?” you speak with a slightly dejected tone. His face turns to look at you, the gears in his head working at rapid speed.

“We are fucking tonight or I might just combust into flames,” he declares with a determined look on his face. And you wonder if pulling out has crossed his mind as a considerable option.

Before you can contemplate on it some more, he puts his boxers on and rushes out of his room, leaving the door ajar. You don’t have to wait for long as you see Eren return within a minute. He locks the door behind him, waving a sealed box of condoms in hand with a victorious grin.

“Did you really ask Jean for those?” your jaw drops as you watch him take off his boxers, giving his dick a few pumps to get it fully erect again. He rips a pack with his teeth as he looks up at you.

“What? No! These are Levi’s,” he spits out the piece of wrapper, his eyes fixed on your naked form, “He absolutely hates others going into his room without permission, but he’ll understand… It's an emergency.” Eren winks at you as he slides the rubber along his length before climbing back up on the bed.

“Now… where were we?” He smiles as he pulls you by your leg, guiding it around his waist and you lift your other leg up as well, hooking them over his lower back.

“You were about to fuck me,” you reply to his rhetoric, rubbing circles on his shoulders and batting your eyelashes at him.

“Righttt… better keep my word,” he quips and your giggle turns into a moan when he presses two fingers to your core, parting your folds to slide them up and down at a steady pace. He grabs your right leg to place it over his shoulder, opening you wider than before as he starts pumping his fingers inside you.

“Please– fuck me already,” you wail, growing more desperate than ever.

“Patience bub, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” he speaks coolly, yet his voice feels strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you are. You pull his face to yours, kissing him with your tongue dominating this time. He curls his finger to hit the spot inside you, causing you to moan into the kiss as you lose control and he shoves his tongue into your mouth once again.

“Rennie, pleaseee, I want to feel your dick fill me up,” you purr, hoping he’d break at your lewd words. Eren simply hums as he leans his head down to focus his attention on your tits instead, peppering them with sloppy wet kisses and tugging at them with his teeth, earning a moan from you each time.

“Eren!” your intention is to scold him, but it comes out way softer and whinier than intended. Instead Eren repeats your name in the same tone to mock you as he pulls his fingers out and they’re glistening with your slick.

“Spit,” he brings the hand up to your lips. You oblige even when you know it's for the added theatrics – you’re impossibly wet, you don’t need the extra lubricant, yet you gather some saliva on the tip of your tongue, spitting it onto his fingers, eyes still locked with his. He smirks as he brings his hand down again to tap his fingers over your pussy and you close your eyes, head falling back as you hum in anticipation.

You feel him line up the tip of his cock against your core, rubbing his length over your folds a few times. You let out tiny whimpers of approval as he pushes the head in. Your walls adjust to his girth as he slowly shoves in till he’s filled you up to the hilt.

Your nails dig into his skin when your walls flutter around him. You let out an involuntary whimper when you look down to see the way your bodies are connected.

Eren’s eyes follow yours as he tilts his head down, slowly pulling out till only his tip is inside you. He looks back up at you, a devilish grin plastered on his face as you stare at him with knitted brows. He doesn’t have to keep you guessing for long as he slams back into you, bottoming out and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your scream.

He lets out a breathy grunt of disapproval at your action as he grabs both your wrists, pinning them over your head. You slur out a series of ‘yesyesyes’ as Eren starts thrusting into you.

You’re trying your best to not be too loud, aware that there’s a person asleep on the other side of the wall but the way Eren’s dick rams into you has you losing your sanity. You try to hook your left leg to his lower back but his movements are too erratic to hold your leg in place.

Sensing your struggle, he holds both of your wrists together with one hand, bringing the other down to guide your left leg over his shoulder as well.

“God– fuck, Eren, faster,” you cry, shutting your eyes as your back arches off the mattress. Eren obeys as he releases his grip over your hands to hold your waist firmly as his back straightens. Your lower body lifts up with him as his grip tightens to support your balance and this new angle hits better, turning you into a blubbering mess as you chant his name, praising him with broken stutters and moans.

Eren’s movements get sloppier, the slapping against your skin getting weaker as he slows down a bit. You tug his arms in protest, urging him to keep going.

“Baby– fuck– I’ll come if I don’t slow down,” he moans as he shuts his eyes. You extend your arms out to pull at his biceps with some force but he barely moves. “Wanna make you feel good… come for me ‘Ren,” you encourage him.

Eren lets out a low ‘fuck’ as he picks up his pace again simultaneously while pressing his chest into yours to fold you in half. His hips snap with an ungodly force, moving your body slightly up each time he thrusts into you. He holds you in place by slightly pressing his body weight on top of yours, dipping his head down to suck the skin over your neck.

“Shit– I’m–” Eren’s voice breaks as you feel his dick twitch inside you as he comes, slowing down before stopping completely. He rests his sweaty forehead against yours as you slide your legs down his shoulders, letting them fall limply to the sides.

“Sorry baby, I don’t usually come so fast. I don’t know what happened,” he sighs, hot breath fanning your face.

“Shh… it's okay,” you smile at him as you play with his hair lazily. He wraps his arms around your torso before rolling over to lie on his back with you on top of him.

“Seriously, what are you doing to me?” he mumbles, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“Hmm?” you look at him in confusion. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he tucks the stray strands of hair behind your ear before cupping your face to squish your cheeks.

“I can’t control myself when I’m with you,” he lifts his head up to kiss you, “blessed be the day I decided to change my gym schedule.”

You giggle at his confession before tilting your head to the side in thought. The question pops up in your head, “Why didn’t you talk to me first?”

“Because I was worried you’d shoot me down instantly, thinking I’m a creep or something,” he explains and you look at him expectantly so he continues, “You know how you were always alone, not bothering anyone – I figured you hated interacting with people unnecessarily.”

“Well, that’s partially true… but I would’ve accepted your advances with open arms,” you spread your arms out to collapse your entire weight onto his body, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Damn… we missed about 3 months of fuckin–” you cover his mouth with your hand and feel his torso vibrate under you as he laughs before biting your hand lightly. You instantly pull your hand away and he continues, “All I’m saying is that we need to catch up.”

“We’ve fucked enough for one night,” you laugh as you pull your body away to lie down next to him. He turns to lie on his side to look at you, fingers tracing along the expanse of your chest before dipping down to the valley of your stomach.

“No, we haven’t. I haven’t made you come yet,” he argues as his fingers move further down. You blink at him, dumbfounded.

“But I did?”

“But you didn’t… not with my dick inside you. It doesn’t count,” he explains matter-of-factly and you let out a snort. He lazily plays with your folds, rubbing feather-light circles over the area.

“Rennie, I’m tired,” you protest but your body moves at its own accord as you grab his forearm to push it closer to your core. 

“I’d warned you I was a ruthless workout partner,” Eren lets out a humourless chuckle, pressing his entire palm over your mound. Your voice strains as you snicker at his joke before you look at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes. You cup his cheek, and despite feeling the weight of your whole body sinking into the mattress due to how sore everything feels, you lean towards him to kiss him as a new wave of desire stirs inside you.

Eren breaks away to get off the bed as he discards the used condom into the bin and grabs a fresh one off the table. You sit up, hand moving to your shoulder to massage as far as you can reach, feeling the stiffness in your entire back.

“All good?” he asks when he notices you.

“Hmm… could you please get me some water?” you reply and he nods his head, walking out to the kitchen, not bothering to cover himself up this time.

You make your way to the washroom before he returns, feeling the fatigue really settle in with every step you take. You just know you’re gonna have the most peaceful sleep after. When you’re done peeing, you stare at your reflection in his bathroom mirror. There’s a faint black trail around your eyes and your lipstick’s almost non-existent, except for the light stain in patches.

Knowing you’d be too tired after round two, you decide to wash your face with the cleanser you find on the shelf. When your face looks less of a mess, you walk out into the bedroom and find Eren sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking from the water bottle.

He stands up and walks to you, handing the bottle to you. Feeling your throat dry up, you gulp the water down hurriedly.

“Here,” he hands you a towel and you swap the two items, dabbing your face with the towel. Eren tosses the empty bottle over the clothes bundled up on the floor before pulling you by your wrist to him, kissing your nose and grinning at you as he wraps his arms around your waist. You notice his lips also have the faint patchy stains of your lipstick and let out a chuckle as you bring the towel to wipe it off his mouth.

“Thank you, m’lady,” he snorts, pressing his lips to yours and you smile into the kiss. You feel the butterflies in your stomach once again and it’s as if he’s kissing you for the first time all over again.

“So stiff…” He frowns as he pulls away and turns you around so that your back is facing him. He puts his magical fingers to work as he massages all the kinks out of your back. You feel your body slump, lolling your neck to the front as you relax into his touch. It’s short lived however, when you feel a spank on your right buttcheek.

“Hey!” you complain as you move forward and away from him on instinct.

“Come here,” he laughs as he pulls you back in, pressing your back to his front. It’s when you feel his already erect dick against your tailbone that you realise he’d already put on another condom while you were in the bathroom.

How foolish of you to almost think he was massaging your back as aftercare!

His left arm is wrapped around your tiny waist, palm pressing you firmly into him as he takes a step back to sit on the bed, pulling you onto his lap. He readjusts his position so that you’re directly in front of the tall mirror.

Eren spreads your legs open with his own, grabbing your thighs as his knees buckle forward to restrict your movement, keeping you from closing them. He pulls your hands behind your back, pressing them there between your bodies. Your eyes meet in the reflection as his hands come up to brush your hair away from your face and twisting it at the back. His left hand toys with one of your hardened nipples while his other hand glides down your belly, fingers leaving ghost touches over your folds.

You knit your eyebrows together as it gets harder to hold his gaze – partly due to how intense his stare feels and partly due to how naked you feel in that moment, baring it all for him. He smirks as he lowers his head to your neck, eyes not wavering even for a second.

He licks a strip up your neck at the same time his fingers start playing with your cunt vigorously. You let out a guttural whine, closing your eyes shut as your head falls back against his shoulder.

“Eyes open pet… watch the way I fuck you,” he orders, slapping your folds lightly. Desperate to find a surface to grab, you free your right hand to claw at his bicep while your other hand bunches up the fabric of the bedsheet near his thigh.

Eren lets out a low chuckle as he starts pumping two fingers inside you, and you scream his name shamelessly between broken moans. He pulls his fingers out to grab his painfully erect cock, lining it up at your entrance. You squirm against him as he brings his other hand up to your jaw, fingers digging in your cheeks as he whispers against your ear, “I told you to look, I won’t repeat again.”

Your chest heaves rapidly as you open your eyes to meet his gaze in the reflection once again. “Eren… fuck– pleaseee,” you plead, and in that moment you’re not sure whether it’s for him to go easy on you or to shove his dick into you without further delay. So, he decides for himself, opting for the latter.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to keep them open when he slams his hips up, rutting his entire length into you. He digs at your waist with both hands, bouncing you on his dick at the same time he thrusts up, skin slapping loudly against each other. Your body twitches as you sob at the sensation.

“Stop– fuck– squeezing me so tightly,” he grunts as he increases the pace. You twist your torso to look back at him, hands moving up to tug at his hair roughly as you pull him closer for a kiss. As he continues grinding his cock, you moan into his mouth each time his tip kisses your g-spot, rubbing oh-so-deliciously against your walls.

“Eren– oh god–yesyes,” you cry and he brings his hand down to your clit. Your brain goes into overdrive as your body shivers into his arms. Eren relentlessly fucking into you and stimulating your sensitive nub simultaneously is too much for you to handle. You bite your bottom lip so hard, you’re sure it’s gonna bruise later as your toes curl in, your orgasm washing over you.

Eren presses your convulsing body close to his in an attempt to still your movements, his thrusts getting sloppy as he tries to steady his legs on the floor.

“‘Is too much–” you cry as your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs.

“Almost there– shit–fuck,” his breathing gets ragged as you feel his dick twitch inside your walls, the muscles of his legs tensing under you before relaxing completely as he finally slows down before stopping completely.

He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as his grip on you loosens. He kisses your skin lightly but your back jerks away from his touch. You get up off his lap before collapsing on the bed.

“Too sensitive,” you mumble as you look up at the ceiling, resting a hand on your forehead. Your breathing settles a bit and you look back down to see him discarding the condom into the bin. He puts his boxers back on before rummaging through his closet. He finds one of his oversized anime t-shirts, but instead of wearing it himself, he brings it to you. 

As he leans over you on the bed, he brings his knuckles up to wipe the tears off your face. You sit up slowly, lifting your hands up so that he can put his t-shirt on you. You smile at him with tired eyes and he smiles back, cupping your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as his eyes search yours for any signs of discomfort.

You shake your head no, “It was perfect.”

“Told you I only brag when I know I'm good,” he smiles softly, kissing your forehead as he lies you back down, pulling the blanket to cover your bodies. You hum as he pulls you into his chest, patting your head gently.

“You did so good, baby. Get some sleep,” he whispers and you feel your body melting into his as you wrap your arm around his waist. 

“‘Ren… I have the biggest crush on you,” you mumble as you close your eyes.

“I have an even bigger one on you,” he speaks softly, still caressing your skin with his fingertips.

“Oh yeah… definitely the biggest,” you whisper as your lips curl up, feeling proud of your stupid joke. He lets out a soft chuckle and by the lazy motion of his fingers, you can tell he’s pretty tired too.

“Good night, bub.”

You want to talk to him and tell him just how crazy you are for him and how tonight has been the best night of your life but your tongue feels heavy as sleep takes over your thoughts, shutting them off completely. 

You decide you’ll tell him about how much you adore him when you wake up, “Good night, baby.”

You move your heavy hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. As you drift deeper into your slumber, the last thing you note is the way your heart beats against your chest, in sync with his beating under your touch.

~~~

“No, that’s not what I– Eren! Stop it!” you break out into a fit of laughter as you grab his wrists to stop him from tickling you. He’s caged you between his body and the kitchen counter, your breakfast sizzling on the pan next to you.

“Okayyy fineeee,” he rolls his eyes at you dramatically before leaning in to kiss you for what seems like the hundredth time since you woke up. 

“Baby, aren’t my pants too loose for you? Let me fix it,” he teases, tugging at the drawstrings of his joggers that you're wearing. 

“No… I’m not falling for the same trick again.” You giggle into the kiss as you ruffle his hair to mess it up.

“Jeez, are you guys still at it?” you hear a voice from the doorway of the kitchen and pull away to look at the man. Jean walks in, looking grumpy and sleep-deprived, yawning as he walks to the refrigerator. “How thin are your walls? It almost felt like I was the one getting fucked.”

“Cry about it to Reiner,” Eren lets out a dry chuckle before wrapping his arms around you once again. He bites your earlobe, causing you to giggle softly as you slap his chest lightly.

Jean simply rolls his eyes at this, rushing out of the kitchen with the entire box of cereal, milk carton and bowl in hand.

“He forgot to take a spoon,” you observe when Jean’s out of your sight completely. Eren chuckles before lifting you up till you’re seated on the counter. You press your palm to his chest, creasing the fabric of his t-shirt as he leans forward, kissing down your neck and tugging at the hem of your t-shirt.

“Gonna make him wish he’d shoved the cereal down his throat with his hands instead,” Eren laughs but it doesn’t exactly sound like a joke. 

Evidently so, Eren’s hands move under your t-shirt to play with your tits as he shuts you up with a kiss before you have a chance to talk some sense into him.

~ fin ~

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter four: who else decodes you?

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

masterlist

PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER THREE: IN THE BLINK OF A CRINKLING EYE

warnings: language, self doubt, self deprecation, mentions of Bucky’s past, allusions to sex and masturbation, talks about fatphobia and internalised fatphobia

word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter  @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000

A/N: ALRIGHT we are so back! this was one of my fave chapters to write omg hope u guys like it too -- there's a lot of mixed feelings in this one. as always, please let me know if you want to be added to a taglist and any thoughts by liking / commenting / reblogging! it really makes my day! :)

You quickly run your hands through your hair to tame the flyaways that have magically appeared as you wait for Bucky to open the door. When he does, he leans against the doorframe, eyes taking in your outfit.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask, pointing a thumb behind you and adjusting the maroon purse on your shoulder. Steve’s asked you to come along to drinks tonight at some bar downtown, and you struggled for a few hours with what to wear and ultimately decided on the shirt Bucky had given you the other night while drunk tucked into some comfy flared dark red denim jeans and layered with a loose, translucent shirt in black. Golden hoops adorn your ears, and your favourite necklace (your initial in a swirling golden font) swings from your neck. 

You decided to keep the makeup light, not knowing how shitfaced you’re all going to be getting, and you certainly did not plan to be the designated driver tonight. A cherry red stain adores your lips, and Bucky can’t look away. He is entranced at the way you are wrapped in his favourite colour, wearing his shirt, and smiling like you are a galaxy, and he is a mere enamoured astronomer, eager to explore.

Eager to explore indeed. The curve of your hips and swell of your breasts entice him, and he’s so close to extending a hand and pulling you into him, letting the both of you getting lost to time and space and anything that isn’t the two of you. There is nothing more he wants than to kiss you so hard the red from your lips is the imprint of his, not another product you put on as a part of your pedantic routine. He wants there to be a splash of purple to your attire, on your neck and in places nobody else can see because he feels the feral urge to mark you as his, and he stands there, drowning in his lust. It clings to him like a second skin, sticky and unavoidable, and you, none the wiser, pout to get his attention.

What can he do? He’s eternally curious about you. He wants to know what it feels like to have you on his lap, mouth so close he can taste your kiss and swallow your moans as he makes you feel so good. He wants to know what you sound like, what you look like. Do your eyes roll back or do you flutter them closed? Does your voice drop a few octaves when you inch closer to that high or do you go completely silent, letting the pleasure take over? All he knows is that he might die if he doesn’t get to look into your opal eyes when he comes undone himself, because how is he supposed to resist the goddess of temptation painting herself all over your skin?

And you’re so painfully unaware. 

But alas, he knows why you’re so decked up, and deep down he’s hurt that it’s not for him. You blink at him a couple times, seeing as he’s yet to respond.

God, does he have to look so good tonight? Even in sweatpants? How the fuck am I going to survive being a few shots deep in front of him? You think, your heart speeding up. 

“Hello, Earth to Bucky. Is everything okay?” You tilt your head a little to the side, meeting his bright blue eyes. He shakes out of his stupor and clears his throat, appearing downcast. You can tell the next words out of his mouth are not what either of you want to hear. 

“I’m not going.” He omits certain details of the outing on purpose, knowing Steve’s intentions. In fact, Steve’s been talking his ear off about you ever since you got to know the both of them. He’s sick of it. But he thinks that Steve is a good match for you — an Avenger, a man without a sordid past that haunts him, and certainly nobody on the streets will hug their children tighter to them at the sight of Captain America. He is a hero amongst men, the very antithesis of Bucky. 

He’s never said it out loud to you, because every second he boards that metaphorical train, you always do your best to take him back off it. You always talk him down, telling him he’s just as much of a saviour as anyone else on the Avengers team. He’s just as worthy, but deep down he fears it. The day of the invisible flip switch, when you hear more and more about what he did as the Winter Soldier, and you’ll grow to resent him. Resent the evils he’s birthed on this Earth in the past few decades, his cold-cut cruelty. You always tell him it’s not his fault, that it wasn’t him, not the Bucky standing in front of you right now. But why does he have these memories? These nightmares of ruthlessly killing everything that was deemed an obstacle to the mission drilled into his head. 

So how can he be so selfish, as to deny the sweetest, warmest, kindest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, a man who truly deserves you? How can he be so selfish as to trap you with all his baggage, making you hold your love over your head in outstanding devotion, all because he craves your touch?

There was a before you, and there is an after you. There is no reconciliation of the two parts of him, there is no going back. But adaptation is essential, and he is a master of it. 

“What? How come? Are you feeling alright, Buck?” You press the back of your hand to his forehead like a super soldier can catch a cold. His skin is warmer than usual, but you somehow miss how he’s blushing because of you. And your touch. 

Bucky could swear up and down that it’s the cure to every fucking ailment in the whole world and every version of it. All it takes is one brush of your skin against his and all his worries disappear. Even as you embark on a date with Steve, for a split second, he could swear it’ll be you and him, one day. Someday. 

Warmth floods his soul when you bite your lip. “You’re running a bit hotter than usual…you sure you’re okay? I can cancel on Steve, I’m pretty sure I only got an invite because of you anyway. We can—“

“No!” Bucky all but shouts, startling you. You retract your hand an inch, wondering if you’ve offended him. “No, I— I’ll be fine. I think my room’s just warm. You go, have fun tonight, okay? I mean it. You work too hard, doll. You need a break every now and then.” You smile, so sweetly Bucky almost feels like he’s about to become a puddle on the floor. 

“Call me, though? And if you’re staying behind I guess I’ll tell you where I’m going. It’s this bar called The Lover, it’s about a ten-minute drive away from here. Just to be safe. But call me if you feel unwell, okay? I come right here, to you.” And that accent. 

Bucky’s never considered him to have a penchant for certain ways of speaking, but your charming English accent has him absolutely feral. He’s never heard his name said like this before, with such an infatuating lilt. He’ll do anything if you ask. Walk to the ends of the Earth, kill everyone you dislike. He’d do it, happily and madly. If you keep saying his name like that. 

Every day, it’s getting harder and harder for him to hide his infatuation with you. Especially when he hears you at night, all by yourself. A low buzzing, a quiet murmur of something he’s certain is his name passes your lips, and he’s fucking losing it. He’s always fucking losing it at night, he’s surprised all he did was sleep that night he got drunk and you were with him. In his bed, right next to him. Chest rising and falling, breaths leaving you so sweetly. He doesn’t remember most of what transpired between you two that night, but he knows it was the best sleep of his life. To hear your heart, to feel the expansion and collapse of your thoracic cavity, it gave him peace, it quietened the nightmares, filling his head with frivolous dreams of you. Running through a field of flowers the colour of your eyes, in a beautiful sundress. Maybe it was a picnic, who knows. All he knows is he wants it. He will get on his hands and knees and beg like a pathetic man for it, to feel that stability and sense again. 

Your hands had been so warm, gripping on tightly to his vibranium arm like it doesn’t bother you. You always do that, after the initial awkwardness between you two had dissipated. You told him that you were nervous, unsure of how he feels about people touching it. You’d asked him. You’ve shown him a level of pride and respect he hasn’t felt from anyone new since the ‘40s — asking for his permission and ridiculous questions like if it’s waterproof.

He’s completely fucked. Utterly, and thoroughly fucked. To your face he simply nods, wrapping you in a hug and then letting you go, rather reluctantly, hands trailing around your waist. He doesn’t miss the effect it has on you, hearing your tiny sharp inhale brings all the life back into his body.

It’s a small, wordless declaration of reciprocity. 

He takes it.

He thinks about it for the next two hours, lying in bed and unable to sleep. What if you need him? What if he’s fast asleep and his nightmares leave him so disoriented that he can’t come to you? He doesn’t know how drunk you are. Maybe Steve’s messily making out with you in the alleyway, hands trailing all over you. Maybe you’re clutching him to you twice as hard, hiking your thigh around his waist and letting him—

A knock on his door jolts him. Friday informs him it’s you, and he jumps out of bed and almost trips on his way to the entrance. You’re here. That means your night doesn’t end with Steve. It doesn’t have to end with him, but you’re not into Steve. Or maybe it was the best two hours of your life, and you’re here to spill all the details to him, because he supposes you two are the best of friends. 

“Hey,” he smiles casually, trying to not let his emotions show. But you seem so confused and lost in thought, that it answers every question, every doubt in his head. 

You may not like him, but you don’t like Steve. 

“Did you know it was a date?” You stare at him straight in the eye, looking one precariously placed sentence away from your heart breaking. Your arms are crossed and your lip stain almost completely gone. But to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful. But he’ll probably think it again, once you’re in your pyjamas. And again tomorrow. 

“Yes. He’s been going on about it for about a week or so, now. He finally plucked up the courage to tell you, to ask you out, I suppose. Did he do anything stupid?” You take another step forward, and another, pushing Bucky back into his room, trying to keep distance. If it closes, he’ll kiss you. He won’t be able to resist, especially not after you just lick your lips to wet them.

“Buck, be honest with me. Was it a bet…or a dare?” You search his eyes, begging for the naked truth, no matter what damage it could do to you. He sees yours fill with tears, and his heart aches in tandem with your own. He’s desperate to rid of you of those horrible feelings, knowing the toxic weeds that spring forth from the seed of misunderstanding. He just has to get to you before the first rain of heartbreak season. 

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous, we’re grown men. We aren’t sitting around making bets on people, especially not so cruelly. If we ever did, I give you full permission to shoot all of us, and rip my other arm off without any anaesthesia. I promise, there was nothing else involved. Steve’s interested, he wanted to ask you out on a date, he did.” You look down and nod, and he wishes you’d meet his eyes again. You’ve grown so confident in doing that, and he’s become addicted. There is a drug called You, and it courses through his veins 24/7. It’s a wonderful, gold rush, but with it comes a maroon pain awaiting to embrace him when the highs fade, in moments like this. When you stand between his warm hands so unsure, as if there’s any place Bucky can fathom being that isn’t here with you.

“Okay. Sorry, I know you guys aren’t like that…but I can never be sure.”

Bucky nods, remembering the horror story that was your first ex-partner, who had only been using you to make them a quick penny. “So what happened? If you’re comfortable sharing, of course.” He pries. He wants to know. Why you’re here, when you could be in Steve’s bed, the both of you lost and entangled in a haze of lust and longing. He wants to know if you’ll admit it, confess like your knee-jerk reaction did to him a few hours ago. The same something bubbles in both of your chests, and even though he knows he shouldn’t do it to you, all he wants is you. All he could ever want is you.

“Well… I got there. I asked where everyone else was, because I was under the impression it was a group thing that I was invited to, because we’re so close. He said it was just the two of us, and it was a bit awkward, but I pushed past it. We talked for a while, and he’s really funny. I laughed loads, I had a couple of drinks. Then at the end of the night, he kissed me.” You stare at Bucky’s lips as you say that last part, because they were the only thing in your mind when it happened. You want to feel his lips on yours, not anyone else’s. That’s one thing that’s been made crystal clear to you. “And it was…strange. He’s not bad at it— I just didn’t expect it, and then I rejected him. Nobody popped out to say it was a prank, though I suspect someone saw us and it’ll probably be all over the internet tomorrow. He was nice about it, and then we both came home. Separately. I’ve just been feeling strange about it, so I came to talk to you. I just wanted to know. Thank you for being honest.” You smile, finally letting your shoulders relax and the breath of agitation leave you.

“You look so pretty tonight,” he all but whispers, brushing a strand of hair back from your face, cupping your cheek.

“How come you never dress up this much when we go anywhere? I’m not complaining, you’re beautiful either way, but it must feel nice.” His thumb strokes against your carefully placed blush and highlighter as you lean into him, faces so close that any distance left burns away at the both of you. Of course, you just assume it’s all one-sided as it often has been in your past, so you keep yourself under tight lock and key. You cannot even begin to imagine the types of feelings he harbours for you, and the way they are a twin flame to your own heart. Even the muscles in your chest are identical, beating away for the other, as if every blood cell that enters and leaves is inscribed with the other’s name. You wouldn’t have it any other way, too swept up in red rose of now to think about the bed of thorns that awaits in the future.

“Well you don’t make me feel like I need to. Not that the others do, but all my life, I’ve just…” You hesitate for a split second, wondering if you should be saying this, but then remember it’s Bucky. The one person you know for sure isn’t going to make you feel stupid for what leaves your mouth. “I’ve always felt that I need to stay performing. Wear makeup, make sure my hair is always neat and styled right, that my clothes are orchestrated and not just the first thing I throw on in the morning, because God forbid people think I’m lazy. Then they’ll think that’s the reason I look the way I am — because I’m lazy and have no desire to change. And then they write me off as disgusting, and nobody likes me. Nobody will bother to understand all my various ailments and limitations, or my genetic makeup that’s made me the way I am. 

“You don’t make me feel like that, like to exist is a performance that I have to put on in front of you. I feel like I can just be, because you understand me. It might sound silly, but it feels like my brain is completely and intricately encrypted, and you’re the only one who knows how to decode me. Plus, you didn’t run away after I told you about the sex scandal I left behind in England, or treat me any different. That’s a bonus. I quite like you, you know.” You smile yet again, after your confession, tilting your head in adoration. And then, you see it. His gaze flicks to your lips, and in that moment, you know. You know that this may not be as one-sided as once thought, that there is someone else who is interested in you, in that romantic way you’ve been conditioned to crave. 

“One more question.” Bucky is fighting for his life to not kiss you, eyes on your lips as you speak, barely processing what you’re truly saying. And how can you deny that? When you’re alone, in your room, with nothing but an ache between your legs and a memory of the one man who truly understands your machinery, you imagine his face lovestruck with desire. And you see it, painted clear as day. There is desire. There is something. 

But you’ve sworn to yourself to never make the first move again, to save yourself unnecessary disappointment and ridicule. If there’s one thing that has been made obvious tonight, it’s the fact that whatever is here, is shared. If it is a fire, he is the match and you are the spark. If it is a magnet, he is the magnetic field and you are the iron. He knows it in your tiny inhale, you know it in his tiny treacherous stare at the parts of your body you would’ve deemed unattractive.

But he must become bolder, and braver. You sense something, but you feel that it may not be something great. You are no stranger to this either, your personality entices and intrigues, but your looks seem to never be able to keep them around. 

You wonder if this will be a short fling, where he looks at you one day and decides you’re better off as just friends. Because after all, you could be the sweetest person on Earth, but that doesn’t change men’s hungry eyes, or their lack of appetite when they pass over you. So, you decide to keep it to yourself. You’ll stoke the small flames, but should not expect a bonfire. You should be realistic. 

Bucky is beautiful. You’re sure several SHIELD agents have their eye on him, and all of them are ten times more gorgeous than you could ever dream to be. So why would he want you? When he could have anyone he wants — why pick you? There’s nothing you could give him that someone prettier couldn’t. You push the negative thought away, pulling yourself back into this conversation you’re having with him. 

Wants and needs can be tended to later. 

You nod, urging him on. “Why don’t you like Steve? He’s, like, the poster boy of the perfect man.” He’s everything I’m not, Bucky thinks. He’s not you, you scream in your head.

Your smile evolves into a shit-eating grin, hellbent on teasing him, and you’re desperate to push the negative thoughts away. Bucky’s affections for you may last a week, but you sure as hell are going to enjoy all of that extra attention, and it seems a ghost of confidence has temporarily possessed you.

You bite your lip before replying.

“I prefer brunettes.”

NEXT PART

[luminouslywriting]

hii! i love your domestic posts with the masters of the air guys and was wondering if you could make one for bucky?

Nonny, I have SO MANY domestic thoughts on John Egan 🤩 and I’m happy to share! Let me know if you want more haha! Requests are still open! More below the cut, cut for length, light amounts of spice sprinkled in:

-John Egan thought he was a man bred for war but it turns out that he thrives in domesticity, loves discussing the house, and loves leading a simple life with you

-He wants his house to be the house where all of his friends and your friends can gather and where everyone feels at home. -Has a really nice yard and puts a lot of effort into making the flowers look better than everyone else’s in the neighborhood. -Absolutely on the committee for neighborhood parties

-He also gets a pool for the backyard and has no problem referring to himself as your pool boy lol

-Pool and shower sex

-Washed dishes with you and divides up the house chores equally

-Always brings you flowers and a kiss when he gets home from work

-Loves buying you different shades of lipstick or lingerie and definitely gets caught daydreaming about things at work lol

-As long as you’ve consented, he’s down for somnophilia and definitely has a thing for waking up in the middle of the night for more sex

-Grill master supreme who loves summer evenings when you two get to just chill

-Loves getting his hands dirty in the kitchen and cooking with you

-You’ve probably had sex in every room in the house; the guest room, the closet, the dining room, the laundry room, the bathroom, the garage, etc.

-He’s into playfighting, teasing, and love bites/hickies

-Will absolutely sing loudly to every song he likes in the car

-Car sex

-Is the best at coming up with fun games for summer evenings or rainy days and there’s never a dull moment

-Water fights in the kitchen and lots of laughter

-Will help you with the laundry

-Loves going shopping for clothes with you and will throw in a few opinions or recommendations of his own haha

-If he’s ever on a work trip, expect a sweet and spicy phone call at the end of the night

-Baseball games are a must in the Egan household

-Arguments are few and far between….but definitely give him some space if he’s in a foul mood. He’ll get his head on straight but it just takes a minute. -And the makeup sex? Out of this world 🤩

-Authority kink, breeding kink, so many kinks with this man

-Cuddles with him are the best

-The type of husband to brag about you at every single work function or anytime he has to interact with someone new

-Teasing in public that leads to some more scandalous and near-public sex

-Considers dates to still be an important part of a marriage and prioritizes putting you first

-Attempts to handyman everything himself and most of the time, it works out just fine. Other times, not so much. -Road trips to visit the Hundredth are a big part of summer and holidays. -Is the worst flirt, even as a married man (only with you haha). And he definitely likes to keep you on your toes with surprises and makes you feel like it’s the first meeting all over again. -Ultimate hype man and compliment king

-Please pounce on him the minute he gets home from work, he’ll feel really smug and happy about it. -And compliment his slight silver edges, he’ll adore that so much ☺️😌

[highly-flammable]

IDK about y’all but I was having a quite a bit of fun watching Cami and Klaus antagonizing each other during 3x11 and 3x12. It was pretty hot. Of course a lot of it was stressful or heart-wrenching too, and I was kind of frustrated at the characters, but they were hot. Sorry, not sorry. Had the ship not had a bunch of loud and irrationally hateful antis, there would have been furniture-breaking angry makeup sex after that whole fiasco lol

And I swear some CK antis are way more pressed about the chess piece incident than Klaus ever was. Cami stealing the white oak might be a big deal and Klaus wasn’t wrong to be mad at her, but her headspace was still understandable. She rightly pointed out that the possibility of death that Klaus and his siblings only faced when there was white oak at play was what she had to face all day, everyday. And she used to think Klaus could protect her from anything in the world, but she got kidnapped while he was still in the city, and by the time he found her she had already been compelled to kill herself. She had to slit her own throat and die while he was right next to her, sleeping. If that wasn’t a bucket of ice water on the notion that he could protect her from everything and she wouldn’t have to do anything for herself, what would be?

She did take a hard line when she stole the chess piece, but before that, well-intentioned as Klaus was, he was repeatedly patronizing and antagonizing her. Bless him, he was trying to help. It was a lot coming from Klaus. But it wasn’t enough. He expected her to snap back into her perfectly rational fearless form after that kind of a traumatic event and intense metamorphosis, so that they could just get on with their lives. And the more she would act out, the more he would react instead of trying harder to de-escalate the situation. He was right that she shouldn’t have the dark objects, but while Hayley’s mentality was that Cami shouldn’t have them because she might wrongly use them, Klaus himself was thinking more in the vein of “Cami’s gonna go and be reckless and get herself killed so I must hold her back”. My girl deserved two days of getting to throw a tantrum and others properly trying to calm her down, okay? She had been doing that for them for two years.

To be fair, I think it’s quite difficult to counsel people who you consider to be wise and who you are used to being counselled by. We see Klaus and Hayley both struggle with this. It ultimately took Vincent to help her out because he had the necessary emotional tools to do it, which the others lacked.

Anyway, Klaus was more hurt at the fact that she couldn’t trust him to protect her and guide her. He wasn’t even that bothered after Aurora stole the chess piece, aside from the fact that Cami almost got killed. He was having a drink with Elijah and being sassy at the end of 3x12. He literally never even brought up that whole thing to Cami after 3x12. In 3x15 he went to her and tried to make peace, and did not mention that issue once. Fortunately Klaus’ character had more sense than the average anti and knew he couldn’t blame everything on Cami, like taking the chess piece was her mistake but Aurora’s doings were not her fault, the same way Aurora kidnapping Cami, and getting her to drink vampire blood and slit her own throat, all due to her possessiveness over Klaus, were not Klaus’ fault.

[gabessquishytum]

When dream comes back to hob after his capture they quickly become friends. But weirdly Dream starts to notice a lot of people seem to be dreaming about hob. His smile, his furry chest, and especially his cute little arse are featuring in a lot of wet dreams and fantasies. More than is normal.

And sometimes the scenes are the same. At least 100 people have had very similar dreams about hob getting spit-roasted by a man and a woman with a strap on.

At first dream worries this is something kind of spell. And then he figures it out.

As a pastime, hob’s been making porn.

He’s got a reputation for elaborate group scenes and as a sub, alternating between bratty with men and sweet as sugar with women. He’s turned his natural sex drive and sluttiness into a cash making opportunity.

He also has a medieval-themed series where he plays a solider who offers up his arse to help his fellow comrades “relax,” which Dream suspects is more than a little autobiographical.

Dream quickly gets addicted to his videos but doesn’t know how to tell hob he’s been watching.

I love the image of Dream guiltily watching porn, secluded away in the dreaming. Slamming his laptop shut when Matthew comes in to check on him.

And the way Hob comes to find out is completely accidental in fact. Dream decides on a whim that he would like to see his friend (genuinely, with no ulterior motives), and hops into the waking world. Where he finds Hob in the middle of hair and makeup...... at a porn studio. Dream thinks about leaving, but it's too late - Hob has spotted him. He even waves cheerily, not at all embarrassed. So Dream takes an unnecessary breath, and steels himself to hang out with his friend at the studio.

Hob, as it turns out, is eager to talk about his side-hustle. He shows Dream the cameras and sound equipment, raving about how they can take so much footage these days. He even gets excited about the lights! Dream can't help relaxing and smiling, as Hob’s enthusiasm is so infectious.

And then it's time for Hob to get to work. Instead of waving Dream off, he pulls the most dramatic puppy eyes and asks Dream to stay, please? Well. Dream isn't exactly going to object, is he? He was only going to go back to the dreaming and watch more videos...

Hob, meanwhile, is using the porn shoot as an elaborate seduction method, having no idea that he's already thoroughly seduced Dream via his previous videos. Bless him, he's working so hard. He keeps looking at Dream through his eyelashes while he's being fucked by the other actor. He makes the prettiest noises, and Dream is already influencing the director to make sure they don't get dubbed over.

When the scene is finished Hob is bundled up in towels and given some basic aftercare by the studio staff, but Dream decides its not enough. He strides over and immediately kneels at Hob’s feet to kiss his hand and invite him back to the dreaming.

...where Dream will ultimately come clean, and show Hob his search history. But only after he's made quite sure that Hob knows that he is the most incredible little slut in the whole wide world...

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Feeling a sudden, inexplicable urge to track down and watch all of Charmed. I was a kid when it originally aired but now I am in my mid-30s and the correct age to appreciate its overhyped soap opera garbage charm. I think I could get interested in three sisters in too-shiny makeup wanting to kill and/or have sex with random hot male demons.

And the drama. Oh god the drama. Everything people complain and/or obsess over in Supernatural, Charmed did first, bigger, and with better music. One of the sisters marries and has kids with their resident guardian angel (called something else). One marries Satan (called something else) AT LEAST once; I have vague memories of romances with multiple Satans (being the ultimate evil is a transitive property in charmed). There's this complicated time travel plot about a good son going back in time to warn his mother about her evil son but the good son hasn't been born yet and his presence almost Marty McFlys himself so he has to secretly get his parents back together before his birthdate. A secret library with a magic school that's way less important than you'd think, Men of Letters-Style; a group of enlightened beings (or cultists? I forget a lot of the details) whose goal is to achieve world piece by gaining ultimate power and then just fucking deleting anyone from existence who behaves aggressively to anyone else. That show did insane shit that Supernatural wouldn't touch. Oh god I hope there's not an obsessive community out there shipping the sisters together. I bet there is, isn't there.

[initiumseries]

Nosferatu Review

I enjoyed Nosferatu! It was refreshing to see a movie relying heavily on practical FX and strong cinematography. Everyone showed up to act (except that guy whose whole family died. He was definitely the weakest link). It was also refreshing to see a solid gothic film. Also really nice to see a film taking place largely at night, but I can see everyone and everything I'm meant to see. The costuming was wonderful. It made me aware how cheap everything on tv looks now despite this weird obsession with trying to make tv look cinematic on a tv budget. The cinematography was peak. There were some really wonderful shots, from scenic views, to the use of lighting to highlight characters faces etc. FX makeup was great too. I really enjoyed how they played with your perception of time and space. Was that a dream or was it real? Did it happen exactly how we saw it or something slightly different? Love that.

The elephant in the room: I mean...idk you guys. I think it's important that when consuming media, but especially watching a movie made for people who understand cinema, by people who clearly understand cinema, that it's important to take the movie as its coming to you and not project. This is a movie about sex. Consensual sex. Ellen is so clearly struggling - in Germany 1868 let's be SO serious about what that must have been like - with her desire and attraction, and surrounded by men who silence and dismiss her, and threaten her harm when she doesn't comply the way they'd like. I mean for godsake, the male physicians suggestion is to bind her in a corset while she sleeps. Ultimately the ONLY one who has patience and shows genuine love and care for Ellen is another woman. Who apologizes for losing her patience, who tries her best to listen and understand her. Every possession is tied to pleasure and orgasm. She seizes on the beach with her legs wide open. She's both repulsed and deeply attracted to Orlock, and sorry but, having been raised in catholicism, that is not a surprising complication for a young woman at that time, especially of a certain status, to struggle with. She wants to be embraced by death, and desires it and is still experiencing pleasure AS she's dying. You could also argue that perhaps, for someone so attuned to the erotic parts of herself that she can't properly express, even with her husband, whom she obviously loves dearly, she craves the release of death, where she can finally be true to herself. There's a submission to death that she's not just fearfully resigned to accepting. She is both afraid, and eager for its embrace. It's all like...right there. The abuse takes are odd because from the first scene, it's so obviously about a woman who experienced a sexual awakening in a repressive patriarchal society and she's struggling with that. I think what's also interesting - and something I've seen before - is how quick people are to strip Ellen of her agency here, and it's amusing because it's perhaps a little ironic that in the name of I guess "protecting women" people are reinforcing the exact same patriarchal mores that made Ellen so desperate she called out into the ether, craving intimacy, and a site to explore the desires the men in her life have shamed out of her. It's not a coincidence the "melancholy" stopped - for a while - with her husband, but begin again shortly after he rejects her attempts at coitus.

Anyway, whatever. I liked the movie a lot. I also liked that everyone is basically insane lol. Strong 8/10.

[jakejizzka]

Forbidden - pt. 1

jake kiszka x reader

18+ NSFW

TW: drinking, cheating, slight dom vibe, unprotected sex

I have a lot of ideas for this series so I hope you guys like it!

summary: you go to a concert that turns into a night with you will never forget

You were nervous, you’ve never done anything like this before. It’s not a normal occurrence your favorite band would be playing in your city, so after considering your options of company you ultimately decided to go alone. You convince yourself it will be freeing, and a big step for you to do something like this alone. You were going to make Greta Van Fleet’s arena your bitch tonight.

You finish putting on your outfit, which consists of tight black jeans, a cropped low-cut lace black tank top, and a tattered cream linen button up opened with the ends shredded and sleeves rolled up. You put on your assortment of necklaces and golden hoop earrings. Finishing the look with your pit vipers with the word “JOSH” bedazzled across them in red gemstones.

The makeup you put on for this wasn’t your usual but this was your night to be creative, creating thick lines of black eyeliner and a dark red lipstick. After seeing pictures from their last show, you noticed all of them upping their make up game so you threw on some gold tears as well.

You throw on your ankle boots and grab your keys. Let’s do this.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You get to the venue and the nerves are trying to get the best of you, so you veer to the bathroom for some deep breaths alone in a stall. When you exit, another girl is there with black hair and two blue streaks in the front. She smiles and tells you she loves your Jake outfit. You smile and thank her and laugh as you walk out, not realizing you had done it so obviously. You knew Jake had a girlfriend, they all did actually. Except Josh, and that’s what initially drew you to him as your favorite. At least in your delusions, you could hypothetically stand a chance. You would never admit it, but Jake always seemed to catch your eye but part of you felt guilty…?

You make your way onto the floor and see it’s not as packed as you expected, but the front is definitely full. Making your way over you notice the girl from the bathroom at the barricade, and she waves at you. This was your way in, and you couldn’t thank this kind stranger enough. You scoot through the crowd playing up your friendship with this girl so maybe less people will silently hate you for pushing your way up.

After some small talk with your new acquaintance the arena goes quiet, and then we hear Reason’s For Waiting start echoing around. Suddenly all the nerves in your body have flew out through you into the atmosphere, this is the night you’ve been dreaming of and it’s happening.

Before you know it you hear Josh’s monologue start, and the lights are glowing behind the curtain, suddenly you see their shadows one by one entering the stage and a giant smile spreads across your face.

Then, the curtain dropped.

You were so close the stage lights made you feel like you were glowing, and you watch as the first song played trying to let your eyes adjust. The bass is moving through your chest and you’re screaming the lyrics song after song.

About halfway through you had fully acclimated to your surroundings. Josh is to your left slightly, you were standing on barricade between the middle and Jake’s side. When you decided to move on to take in the next of them, you look at Jake and you swear he was looking back. Deciding you were just wrapped up in the moment, your eyes dance back over to Josh and Danny and keep singing. After another two songs they start playing The Barbarians and the intro guitar solo is coming up, you pan over to Jake and he’s as close as he can get to the edge of the stage. You instinctively lean as far as you can to stare at this man perform magic in front of you. His guitar wails the first note, and he looks up right at you and you swear there’s a smirk on his face. Suddenly your entire body is on fire, the blush consuming your entire face seems to please him because he winks when Josh starts singing and slowly backs up back onto the stage.

You look around sure other people had to of seen what just happened, nobody is phased and you wonder if you’re letting the delusions win again per usual. As if he can read your thoughts, he reappears at the edge of the stage leaning down for the solo at the end of the song and he’s going even harder almost like he doesn’t want you to look away again.

The song comes to an end, with Jake cracking his hand down onto the guitar with a slap, and an apparently necessary glance at you. Your mind is spinning, the gaslighting you are doing to yourself right now is clinical because you know this can’t be real. You know Jake publicly has a long term girlfriend, and nobody else seems to have noticed so why does it feel like he’s making the guitar whine for you and only you right now?

The lights go down after the last song, and they all jog off stage before the encore. You take the few minutes of intermission to collect yourself and ground yourself back to reality, no more delusions. Continuing your chat with the girl next to you, no mention of Jake’s actions were mentioned so you are able to calm down a bit more laughing at yourself. Shots of fireball are being passed around barricade and you gratefully take one.

The crowd roars and you turn around to see the band taking the stage again in the dark. You smile over at your new friend in excitement. Waiting for the lights, security comes out to front the barricade and you see them holding set lists. You know that usually they have security pass these out to avoid any fights breaking out in the front, and you feel excited knowing you’re finally close enough at a show to possibly get one. A tall muscular security member walks over directly in front of you and suddenly you feel bodies pressing on you from all directions, the man reaches to pull your arm far out passed the barricade to ensure the set list goes into your hand specifically.

You smile at his kindness, and wonder what made him choose you but thank him regardless and hold it close to your chest scared of opening it surrounded by everyone. You tuck it into your bra, and grab back onto the rails waiting for lights to blast on.

The lights come on, and they’ve all assumed their positions again with grins. It warms your heart to see your favorite people enjoying their show so much, knowing this arena is filled with people cheering them on. You look to Josh as he’s talking into the microphone and you remember your sunglasses.

Taking them off you start swinging them around out past the rails hoping by some miracle he takes them for the encore. He sees you and shoots you a smile, but continues talking. The next thing you know, the same security guard is taking them from you to hand up and it feels like the floor is going to cave in below you or maybe you’ll float to the ceiling.

But then, you watch the glasses go up to Jake. He thanks the security guard, and looks at you then reads the glasses and rolls his eyes. He looks at you shakes his head and puts them on with a mischievous grin. You look up at him and feel heat flooding your cheeks. Then the song starts, and he’s gone again.

You are feeling a whirlwind of thoughts consume you, irrational, rational, it feels like your mind can’t keep up with the emotions coursing through your body right now. After this last interaction, it’s as if Jake is the only one on this stage. You can’t look away and he seems to know because he doesn’t give you anymore attention the rest of the night almost like he’s playing some game you don’t know about.

You stare on longing for one more glance, and finally you get it. Seconds before the lights cut again and they leave for good, he looks dead at you and gives you a big grin showing his teeth and his eyes were piercing into yours in a way that had you feeling like that fireball shot was actually 5.

Lights cut off, they leave and everyone starts shuffling away. Still stunned and shocked you stand there in a daze for apparently too long because security starts shooing people off the rails and you snap back into reality. Looking around it’s apparent your new friend was here with a group because everyone is gone, and you’re just slowly exiting trying to process what all just happened.

You get back to your car and start loading your bag into the back, and pull out a hoodie to throw on over your revealing top because it’s late now and the temperature has dropped. Sitting down, you crank the car and reach into your shirt and pull out your set list finally safe to look at. Smiling, you open it up and your jaw drops.

There’s a guitar pick taped int the middle of it with Jake’s name on it, and when you go to remove it, you see in small sneaky handwriting there’s a phone number underneath it. There’s no way this is….? Thinking you’re being pranked you grab your cell phone before taking off on the drive, and type in the number to text.

“Whoever this is, this isn’t funny. I don’t know what you think you saw but I don’t appreciate the mocking.”

There’s no immediate response so you close the screen, and throw it in the passenger seat starting your drive home.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You arrive home, and start your way upstairs to your apartment when you feel a buzzing in your pocket.

“If part of you didn’t think it might be me, then why’d you text this number hm?”

Suddenly you forget how to breathe, you almost drop your phone. This isn’t happening, this isn’t…..nope. No way. Not possible

“Prove it.”

You hurry up the stairs and before you even reach the top your phone buzzes again, twice.

“I’m going to try to not let this hurt my feelings, by the way.”

A picture of the JOSH sunglasses sitting on an unfamiliar table follows.

You feel goosebumps start all over your body, and a blush spreading across your cheeks. What….what do you even say? How is this…another buzz comes through.

“I trust you to not share this number with anyone, and in return maybe we can meet up for a little after party of our own?”

A gigantic smile takes over you and as you look down at your phone. You’re not crazy…all of those things really DID happen. He was just so smooth nobody else seemed to catch any of it.

You type back,

“Well…okay. Just tell me when and where. P.S.- Jealous about the glasses still?”

You walk into your apartment and sit your things down plopping onto the couch staring at the conversation waiting for the next message to come through in disbelief.

“Send me your address, and I will come bearing alcohol & gifts. P.S. Yes, very.”

Your better judgment says not to do this, but who else could have taken a picture like that of the glasses you know you made…this is actually happening and that reality is sinking in now.

You send him your address and say nothing else. Looking around your apartment you panic thinking about Jake Fucking Kiszka being in here. The blow off the nervous energy you start rearranging things, cleaning surfaces, lighting candles. You put on your favorite playlist at the moment, making sure it’s not one with any Greta Van Fleet so you don’t look corny as hell. It’s all coming together the best it will, when you hear three tiny knocks at your door.

You almost yelp in surprise and jump up, cautiously moving to the door. Looking out the peep hole you see a smug Jake Kiszka staring right into it. Holy. Fucking. Shit. His linen pants and black tee shirt are fit against his body perfectly, he has his hair pulled back and those god forsaken sunglasses.

Your hand is shaking and you unlock the door and crack it open and stare with your jaw open. He chuckles and slides his hand in the small opening you’ve allowed then says “So can I come in? Or are you trying to get me caught already?” he gestures to the openness of your parking lot with cars pulling in and out. You stare at his deep warm brown eyes for a moment getting lost.

You snap into reality and open the door all the way and just mumble “yeah sorry..um”. He walks in and sets the liquor he brought on your coffee table and then you see him take a deep breath before turning around to face you.

He stands a little awkwardly but still confident in your living room.

“So are you going to tell me your name now? Or just stand there with your mouth open because I can work with that too…up to you” He winks at you. It takes your brain a moment to catch up to the flirty joke.

“Oh um, yeah I’m y/n. Hi.” You try to keep your jaw attached to your face and act normal, softly laughing.

“I know you’re probably confused as fuck right now why Jake Kiszka is standing in your apartment right?” you nod in response to his statement. He looks at you for a moment, seeming hesitant then you see the hesitation fade in his eyes.

He smirks, “Well the bad news is I don’t have an explanation for you. Besides the fact I couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night tonight. You really truly almost made me mess up a few of my solos, so thanks for that.” He rolls his eyes at you with a smile, almost seeming like he’s the nervous one now.

You start stuttering, “I thought……you have…..don’t you……you are..with..”

He cuts you off, pressing his finger to your mouth and moving in closer to you. He gets so close, you can smell him now and it makes you blush, it’s a mix of rum and a warm vanilla with sweat. He takes off his sunglasses finally, I mean it’s almost midnight for christ sakes anyway.

“I know you don’t owe me anything y/n, but please don’t make me think about it. About her. I need this, if you’ll allow me to have it…” He trails off and stares at you with warm amber colored eyes, and you can see there’s something in there you can’t place. Maybe it’s a hint of vulnerability. Whatever it is, it makes you let your guard down and smile at him.

“Okay so, I won’t ask too many questions I guess. What are we drinking?” You head to the kitchen to grab some glasses. On the way there your mind is spinning.

You hear a sigh of relief come from the living room and a quiet “I brought options since I don’t know you really…yet anyway” you sense the smile in his voice at the last two words.

You walk out with two glasses analyzing the options and your eyes widen at the vodka. “Oh great, my favorite. I actually don’t even like fireball you know…” You say with a smirk.

This gets a laugh out of him and the mood is lifted instantly, his laugh makes your heart flutter in your chest. His shoulders relax a bit and he gives you a soft smile. He pours you both your drinks and you go to sit on the couch, while he makes himself at home going through your vinyl collection. His hand stops on The Battle at Garden’s Gate, and he looks over at you with the dumbest grin and you roll your eyes.

Chuckling he makes his way over to you, and sits down beside you on the couch resting a hand on your thigh.

“Listen, y/n I know that you know…I have my girlfriend. But things just…..” he trails off “Things aren’t great…for me..right now…for us…and I just felt something watching you tonight I haven’t felt in awhile. I needed to see you to see if….you’d want to help me out with these…feelings..to see if you think I’m crazy or if you felt it too maybe.” He looks into your eyes hoping you understand his scattered thoughts, and you do.

You nod, and without much thought just vodka confidence you lean in to him and whisper in his ear “I’ll help you with any kind of feelings you need me to Jake”.

He visibly shivers at your breath going down his neck, and something in his eyes darkens. “Tell me at any point if you want me to stop or leave or anything and I will, okay?”

“Okay” you smile, knowing that’s the last thing that’s going to happen.

“Okay” he repeats biting his lip staring at yours. He leans in and presses his lips to yours and you can feel him melt against you.

You move your hand up his neck and reach back to the hair tie in his hair pulling it out letting his hair go. He smiles against the kiss when you do this, your new found confidence clearly impressing him.

With his hair down now, you run your hands up into it and give it a gentle tug wondering if he’ll notice. A small groan from his throat is his response, and he pushes his tongue against your lips begging to be let in. You lick his lips back, and soon your tongues are dancing in and out of each other’s mouths with heavy breaths.

You pull away, and look at him taking in his beautiful hair and beautiful face for a second and he raises and eyebrow at you. “I was going to see if you want to go to my bedroom?” you ask trying to hide your blushing.

“Oh, y/n that’s exactly why I came here darling” he grins at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He stands up and reaches out for your hand in a dramatic Jake-esque instagram picture way that makes you roll your eyes into the back of your skull. You grab his hand and he starts laughing.

“Lead the way princess” he whispers.

You led him down the hallway to your bedroom and before you’ve even fully walked into the room your being pressed against the wall and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it. The darkness in his eyes is on full blast when you look at him, and his lips twitch up in the corner before diving into your neck covering it in kisses and bites.

Without realizing it you’re letting out whimpers with each bite, and it’s driving him insane. He growls when he says “Fuck you sound so pretty, darling” and that sends a full body shiver through you.

He lifts you off the wall onto his waist and carries you over to the bed laying you down carefully. He’s looking down at you like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, and you’re the only meal in sight. Slowly, he leans down over you and places another deep kiss on your lips.

He moves down beside your ear, and whispers “After tonight, you’re not going to be able to look at any of my brothers ever again, not the way you’ll look at me.”

A moan escapes out past your lips and it surprises you, sending a blush down your body. He smiles like a predator showing its teeth to its prey.

His hands are everywhere, he’s touching over your body frantically small groans coming from his chest the whole time, “God I needed this, you have no idea y/n”

You run a hand through his hair while he’s working his hand up your shirt, and you whisper “You can use me to meet your needs anytime, sir” and then the most heavenly reverberating moan comes from his mouth.

He starts undressing you as quickly as his hands let him, heavily breathing out “beautiful” and “unbelievable” and other praises the whole time. Once you’re fully naked, exposed to him, he stands up to undress himself and just stares at you with eyes full of wonder and lust. Once he’s completely naked you gasp, involuntarily, at just how truly beautiful this man is. He looks up through his hair smiling, before climbing back over you.

With him on top of you, you can feel his heartbeat racing and his pupils are blown wide open. You see how much he needs this so you ask, “Could you lay down for a second and I can take care of you a little bit..if you’d like that?”

His eyes flutter for a moment and a smirk grows on his face as he lays down on his back he says “I would fucking love that, you have no idea. God you’re perfect.”

You move to hover over him straddling his lap, every movement you make gaining grunts and moans from him. You start kissing his neck making sure to take your time so he can enjoy this as much as you can tell he needs to.

You lick from his neck down to his chest and then finally to his stomach. God is it perfect, so soft and so completely Jake. You couldn’t have dreamed you’d ever be seeing it with your own two eyes this way. You place kisses all over his stomach, making your way to his hips placing gentle bites at both of them. He bites his lips and you swear you hear a little whimper come out.

You waste no more time, and lick down his entire length stunned at the size. You swirl your tongue around his head, and his hips start moving up begging for more.

You take all of him into your mouth, moaning onto him. His hand travels down and grabs a handful of your hair.

Pulling the fistful of hair tighter he says, “That’s it baby, good girl.”

His praise encourages you and you sink down feeling him fill the back of your throat. The moan that comes out of him in reaction is heavenly. You want to hear it over and over.

He starts thrusting his hips up into you, taking control but you can tell he’s still holding back trying to be gentle with you.

The grip in your hair gets tighter and the sting sends a shiver through you. God he looks so perfect right now. His eyes closed, biting his lip moaning sweet praises.

Suddenly he’s slips himself out of your mouth, and he’s positioned you on your hands and knees.

“I’m hoping you will see me again soon, and I want to really take my time with you over and over.” He leans down into your ear and whispers, “but I need you right fucking now, so will you be a good girl for me and let me fuck you?”

Hearing him talk to you that way makes you start aching and throbbing for him. “Please Jake, yes.”

He grabs your hair again, and you feel him teasing you with his head spreading your wetness all over himself. “Please, what?” He growls out.

“Yes, sir. Please. I need it.”

That sends him plunging into you hard, and his hands grip onto your hips with force. His pace is brutal in the best imaginable way and your vision starts blurring from the pleasure building up in you already.

Without missing a stroke he sends his hand flying down to smack your ass, the sting makes you whimper and then another wave of pleasure crashes down.

He’s already losing the battle he’s putting up to last longer and he is wincing fighting back the release coming. “F-fuck baby, I think I’m close already. God.”

You feel it building in you as well, a tightness creeping through all your muscles “Let go sir, for me?” And next thing you know he’s going even harder, sending himself crashing over the edge of his orgasm into you. Your own following right behind him, you scream out his name at the force of his last stroke.

After a riding through it together, he collapses onto your back and pulls you close. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, and just whispers “Thank you y/n, thank you…”

Once you both catch your breath and lay there for a few minutes kissing and still touching you hear something on the floor buzzing.

His eyes grow wide and he jumps up to grab his phone.

“Fuck!” He starts pacing and getting dressed in the process. He looks at you with regretful eyes, as he answers the phone.

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

Silence, while you hear a woman on the other end. His eyes never leave yours and you know he’s not hearing a word she’s saying.

“Hey, sweetie can I call you when I get back on the bus? It’s hard to hear right now I’m out with the boys.”

After a few moments, he hangs up and silently finishes getting dressed then helping you do the same.

“I’m so sorry y/n, you don’t deserve that right after….after that. It was so amazing, and I’m just sorry that happened.”

Unknown to him, it didn’t seem to phase you for some reason. Did part of you…even like it? Being his secret?…you notice him staring at you waiting for a response so you just shake your head.

“It’s fine Jake…i uh, I get it.”

His eyes are soft as he grabs your chin placing another kiss on your lips. “If I text you, will you still answer? I need to see you again.” His eyes are big, almost begging.

You smile at him and reply, “Just let me know when and where Jakey, I’ll be there for you.”

After some probably inappropriate jokes and flirty remarks he walks to your front door holding your hand. He turns before opening it, and it looks like he has more to say but he doesn’t. He just places a hand on the side of your head gently and kisses your forehead.

He turns, and walks out your door. And you’re left stunned, trying to grasp what the fuck kind of night you just had. You should feel guilty, or maybe sad after that phone call….but all you can do is smile and wonder when he will text you again.

You start to drift off to sleep, and you see your phone light up with one notification. A single text from Jake that just reads,

“Thank you”

You smile and let the exhaustion take you, and drift off reliving your night in your head.

[witchesoz]

The Wicked Witches of the West (3)

In my previous post, I covered the MGM's Wicked Witch of the West, plus her direct continuations and revivals. Here, however, I want to talk about the... "alternate" MGM witches, so to speak.

As we all know, Margaret Hamilton's character was a HUGE pivotal point in the evolution of the Wicked Witch of the West's character. From 1939 onward, a lot of people thought the witch had to have green skin, an all black outfit, and the Hamilton mannerism. With the slight problem being that the character played by Margaret Hamilton belonged to MGM and was not "free to use"... So when people still wanted to pay homage/reference/toy with the MGM's Wicked Witch, but couldn't get the rights, they had to "diverge" somehow.

Disney is one of the most famous "culprits", as it kept trying to do MGM-WoO related projects without ever getting the rights. They notoriously produced in the 2010s two "diverging green Wicked Witches".

One is the character of Theodora, from the movie "Oz the Great and Powerful Oz" - supposed to be a prequel to the MGM "The Wizard of Oz", while not actually being so because Disney couldn't align themselves with the MGM lore. This discrepancy between the desire to make an MGM-aligned movie and the legal incapacity to do so shows notably with the design of Theodora as the Wicked Witch - using a similar black outfit to the 1939 movie but in a very different cut and shape, still having a green skin but of a different shade, still having "witchy" features but not the same facial traits as Hamilton had with her prosthetics on.

The second one was the character of Zelena from the television series "Once Upon a Time" - whose design nods to the MGM Wicked Witch are just her green skin and her black outfit. Very little details overall that ultimately feel like they were even a bit forced into the story (my personal experience: I was VERY disappointed by how they came up with the laziest excuse for her having a green skin). Outside of the green skin (which she loses once she enters a non-magical world) and the black "witch" outfit, there isn't much linking her to the 1939 Witch design-wise. (I choose to not speak of characterization because else these posts would never end).

Outside of those two you find other "diverging green witches" in various media. To take one example among many: the Oz-themed episode from "Fame", "Not in Kansas Anymore" (once again we see the choice of purple to complement and replace the black).

These three takes on the Wicked Witch are actually reflecting a phenomenon I briefly described with the apparition of the Witch in Webber's 2011 musical. I could call this the "sexification" of the Wicked Witch, but I prefer to refer to it as the "feminization" of the Witch of the West. Margaret Hamilton's character in the MGM movie was very distinctively un-sexy and non-sexual, with a lot of her feminity taken away to enhance the "archetypal hag of childhood mythology" feel of the Wicked Witch. A decision which is VERY interesting when you know that the original plans for the Wicked Witch in the MGM movie were to have a coldly beautiful, creepily sexy, glamorous witch inspired by Disney's Evil Queen in "Snow-White and the Seven Dwarves".

And when you compare the four examples above - Fame's and Webber's Wicked Witches, Zelena and Theodora - to Hamilton's character, you see the clear change as the Wicked Witch gains in... dare I say sex-appeal? Makeup is worn, as in conventional makeup like lipstick. The flat, skinny, shapeless silhouette of the witch now has feminine curves highlighted by an outfit far less covering than the matronly, old-fashioned dress of 1939. We see the witch's neck, arms and shoulders. We see her legs as pants are being worn. The hair is less covered, less hidden, more colorful, more shaped.

We are not yet in the territory of the Wicked Witch as a pin-up, but we are getting closer to it.