#because that felt like it was almost personally tailored to me

[blueberrypancakesworld]

hiiiii …. I am a freak for ur Frollo x readers … age gap 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 Pls u are so talented, please never stop writing. I wish nothing but the best for you! ^_^

- 🐇📿

Frollo in a relationship~Age gap

Frollo x fem!reader

warning : age gap (Frollo is in his 50s, reader in her 20s), kissing, obsession, religion fanatic, Frollo is Frollo

info : Thank you so much dear anon, nice that our freaks match up especially when it comes to Frollo. This disgusting, sweet, sexy judge is simply irresistible. Your words mean so much to me thank you...I hope you like this little extra here and I'm glad you like my writting so much ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was a man of the public eye and had to leave his estate for every festival and get out of the carriage to present himself to the masses.

It was an activity of his profession that he despised with every fibre of his body, even in court when he used the gavel to get some peace and quiet and pronounce his judgement he felt only partially comfortable.

The miserable pleading and weeping, the protestations of innocence...no one was innocent, no one in this sin-ridden city could be innocent.

No one but himself and she, the blossoming Paris, a blossoming woman worthy of his gaze and recognition, ,,Paris blossoms anew every day because he has taken care of you, my lady" he had once complimented her after he had intercepted her from the church.

She was innocent, so innocent that she averted her eyes, looking down to the ground in embarrassment, ,,It is your righteous actions Judge Frollo that keep us...and me safe" she replied and he offered her a hand to help her down the steps.

The dress a dark purple, a shade of his favourite colours, she had to know, had to wear it especially to get his attention.

Ever since they had met at Notre Dame, ever since he had seen her devotion and kindness, especially to a man of his rank and age, he was sure it was God's reward.

A life seemed to lie between them, he had seen times of loathing and disgust when she didn't even seem to walk this earth, but she was in her flower.

It was she who was completely delighted and kissed by life, a beauty, gentleness, softness, an innocence that still lingered, an unopened bud that turned towards the sun of his gaze.

He was her sun and her moon, he was her judge and fascinator, he would be her future, her husband and captor and he knew she had no choice.

Such a beautiful single young woman, no mother, siblings or relatives, her father fallen in a war, ,,I will personally take care of your protection, in my prayers by day and by night" he assured her again and again.

The payments for her small flat were a minor matter, a matter for which she only had to accompany him when he requested it, to the finest tailors, painters and blacksmiths.

She held on to his arm so as not to fall through the uneven ground, feeling her soft breast press against his arm every now and then, ,,It is God's providence and my legal enforcement that I take special care of my protégés...a flower like you should not suffer" he took away her fear that she was taking advantage of him or even insulting him when she showed herself with him

She was a young single woman and he was the judge of the city, a man almost three times her age, yet he treated her like a princess in the poems.

Why would he lie?

Why would a man of his goodness lie?

Frollo only seemed to want the best for her and the image of him seemed to blur more and more in her thoughts, nights and dreams.

An acquaintance, a friend, a father figure or a brother, a saint, her personal judge and at the end of the summer he had become her husband under the ringing bells of Notre Dame, he had made her his.

When his lips were able to kiss her end, the life of sin and lust seemed to have penetrated him.

His age, the weight of his life washed away by the sight of her, evaporated with the words, ,,My wife" as he was granted the right of God to desire her.

He now had every right to desire her publicly in front of all others and in his estate where he would bring this beauty.

It would be a sin to share her innocence and beauty with others, ,,By accepting the ring you have become mine" he reminded her as he opened the bedroom door.

But in the flickering of the candles, the moon shining through the windows, nothing mattered between them, how could a man resist such innocence?

To see her lying in the bed surrounded by pillows and blankets, an innocence as the blood stained her that night...as it was not her husband who bedded her but the devil who took her to get her innocence for himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@spamtonsjc , @angelfromacostumestore , @lovelycemeterymistress

[medicinemane]

The world is set on prescriptivism and... it doesn't jive with me

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

[moonriizing]

Goodbye Summer | l.anton (18+)

Crazy what two years can do to a person. What do you mean the cutie pie, adorable ball of sunshine Chanyoung Lee, has turned into this tall, grumpy, and unfairly hot specimen who calls himself Anton?

Genre: childhood friends to lovers Pairing: Lee Chanyoung|Anton x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 19k words. Listening to Goodbye Summer by F(X) ft. D.O. Posted a little late because I got carried away, lol. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally, nor do I claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

You rolled the car windows down, letting the salty air fill the car as you hummed along to the music playing through the speakers. It had been two years since you last made this drive, but every curve of the road was ingrained in your memory. You remembered how you used to count the palm trees as a kid, making up silly games to pass the time while your mom laughed at your endless energy. Back then, the beach house felt like the one constant in your summers, a place where time moved slower and the world outside didn’t matter.

Two years away felt like an eternity, but now, as the Lee family’s beach house came into view, it was like no time had passed at all.

Your mom stirred in the passenger seat, stretching as the car slowed down. “Did you sleep well?” you asked.

“I would’ve, if you hadn’t been singing off-key the entire time,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

You gasped in mock offense. “Off-key? Excuse me, but that was a performance, mom. You’re just not cultured enough to appreciate my artistry.”

“Artistry, huh?” She laughed, shaking her head. “Is that what we're calling it now?”

You parked the car in front of the house, taking a moment to soak it in. The Lee family’s beach house looked exactly as it always had—whitewashed walls with a wide porch and tall windows that reflected the warm glow of the setting sun. For a second, it felt like you were stepping back in time, like the past two years hadn’t happened at all.

Aunt Hyejin was the first to greet you at the door, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she exclaimed, “Look at you! You’ve grown so much! You’ve gotten prettier too.”

You laughed, leaning into her embrace. “I could say the same about you, Auntie. You are glowing! What’s your secret?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, brushing your hair back to study your face. She squeezed your cheeks lightly before kissing your forehead. “Come in, come in! Junyoung is dying to show off how tall he’s gotten.”

Junyoung was quick to make good on his mom’s words, bounding down the stairs with a grin. He too greeted you with a hug, crouching down to your smaller frame.

“Told you I’d be taller than you one day!” he declared, puffing out his chest.

“And I told you I’d deny it when it happened,” you shot back, ruffling his hair and gasping because you had to tiptoe to reach the top of his head. “Wow. You really did grow up.”

The house itself was almost exactly as you remembered it. The same yellow curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the faint smell of ocean air and Aunt Hyejin’s cooking permeated the halls. It was comforting, familiar.

But there was one thing—or rather, one person—who didn’t match your memories.

He was sitting on the sofa when you walked into the living room, one leg crossed over the other, a phone in hand, and not the slightest hint of acknowledgement on his face. His hair was darker, longer, falling into his eyes in a way that seemed deliberate. His clothes—a loose linen shirt and tailored shorts—looked like they belonged to someone who spent their summers at yacht clubs, not building sandcastles on the beach.

“Chanyoung, greet them properly!” Aunt Hyejin chided with both affection and exasperation in her tone.

The man on the sofa finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you froze, searching for something familiar in the sharp line of his jaw and the effortless confidence in his posture.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, more measured.

You blinked, trying to reconcile the image in front of you with the boy you used to know. Before you could say anything, your mom appeared beside you, greeting Chanyoung with a hug. He rose to his feet, smiling genuinely as he let your mom embrace him.

“You’ve grown so much!”

While they were catching up, Junyoung approached you quietly, whispering in your ear. “I know what you’re thinking.”

You glanced sideways at him. “I’m sure you do,” you scoffed. “When did this happen?”

Junyoung shrugged. “Dunno. He went to college and came back like this. He’s called Anton now by the way.”

“Anton? He hates that name.”

“Right?” he agreed, chuckling. “Dude gained some muscles and turned into this emo cool kid.”

The rest of the day passed without a single meaningful interaction with Anton. Not for lack of trying on your part—you simply didn’t get the chance.

It was subtle, his avoidance. The kind of thing no one else would pick up on. Your mom, Aunt Hyejin, and Junyoung didn’t seem to notice anything, too caught up in catching up. But you? You noticed. Every time you entered a room, Anton was suddenly walking out. If you so much as glanced his way, he was already looking elsewhere, pretending to be engrossed in his phone or staring at some invisible point in the distance.

And then at lunch, he didn’t even sit down to eat with everyone. “I’m going out. Back before dinner.” he said nonchalantly, already halfway out the door.

“Probably off to the clubhouse to meet his friends,” Aunt Hyejin explained with a shrug, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You nodded along politely, but inside, you were itching with curiosity. What friends? Since when did Chanyoung—no, Anton—have a social life so demanding that he couldn’t sit down for a meal?

Eventually, the guessing—and the long drive—caught up with you. You slumped into your room, the familiar comfort of the bed almost tricking you into thinking nothing had changed in this place. But the moment your head hit the pillow, your eyes grew heavy, and the next thing you knew was waking up to the faint glow of moonlight and a dim bedroom.

You groaned, blinking at your phone. Dinnertime.

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stepped into the hallway, still half-asleep and thinking only of food. You turned the corner—and walked straight into a wall.

Or, well, what felt like a wall.

“Ow,” you muttered, stumbling back and clutching your nose. You looked up to find Anton standing there, looking as unfazed as he had been since you got here.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said before you could stop yourself.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Without thinking, you blurted, “What did you do to your hair?”

Anton didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head, like he was deciding whether to entertain your question. Then, he reached out and rested his hand on top of your head.

“What are you—”

Before you could finish, he brought his hand down to his chest, his eyes flicking between the two points as if measuring your height.

You scowled. “Hah! Wow. I see you got a few inches taller. Congratulations,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Anton’s lips twitched, just barely, but he didn’t say anything.

“Ugh, whatever,” you huffed, spinning on your heel and stomping down the hallway toward the dining room.

Behind you, you didn’t see the way his lips curved into a small, teasing smile.

By the time you reached the dining room, the table was already set, laden with dishes that made your stomach growl on the spot. 

The dining table was a sight to behold, as always. Aunt Hyejin had gone all out—steamed crab, grilled shrimp, roasted vegetables, and enough side dishes to feed a small army. The familiar spread made you smile; some things never changed.

The family had already gathered when you arrived, and everyone greeted you with warm smiles. “Sweetie, can you go get Anton?” Aunt Hyejin asked, beaming at you as she placed bowls of rice on the table.

You turned your head just in time to see him walk in, his hair still damp from what must’ve been a shower. He wore a plain white t-shirt, its loose fit and sleeves doing nothing to hide his defined shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d walked out of a magazine ad.

Anton glanced around the table before taking the empty seat next to his mom. “Where’s Dad?” he asked simply, reaching for the pitcher of water.

“His trip is getting extended for a few more days,” Aunt Hyejin explained, placing a rice bowl in front of Anton. “He’ll be back next Saturday.”

You made a point of sitting as far from Anton as possible. Not that you were being petty or anything. Okay, maybe you were a little petty.

“Dig in, everyone!” Aunt Hyejin said cheerfully as she sat down.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The meal was as delicious as you remembered, and for a while, the conversation was light—updates on Junyoung’s basketball team, your mom recounting a funny story from work, Aunt Hyejin asking about your classes.

Then, inevitably, the focus shifted to Anton.

“So, Anton,” your mom began, her tone warm and curious. “What have you been up to lately? Your mom tells me you’ve been very busy.”

Anton looked up from his plate, his expression polite but detached. “Just the usual,” he said. “School, work, hanging out with friends.”

“Oh, right! You’re working at that startup now, aren’t you?” Aunt Hyejin chimed in proudly. “He’s been so dedicated, working part-time while keeping his grades up.”

You tried to hide your surprise. The Chanyoung you remembered hated being busy. He used to complain about school work piling up, always looking for an excuse to go to the beach instead.

“Wow,” you said, before you could stop yourself. “Who knew Chanyoung Lee would turn into such a responsible adult?”

Anton’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might actually smile. Instead, he just shrugged. “People change.”

The casual way he said it annoyed you more than it should have. “Clearly,” you muttered, stabbing a piece of shrimp with your fork.

If anyone noticed the tension, they didn’t comment on it. The conversation moved on, but you couldn’t help sneaking glances at Anton throughout the meal. He barely spoke, answering questions with short, polite responses and deflecting anything too personal. It was so unlike the boy who used to dominate every dinner table conversation with ridiculous stories and bad jokes.

At one point, Junyoung leaned over to whisper, “You’re staring.”

“I am not,” you whispered back, cheeks heating.

“You are,” he insisted with a grin. “What’s your deal?”

You glared at him. “What’s his deal? He’s acting so weird.”

“If you ask me, I think you’re the one acting weird,” he whispered back.

You were about to retort when Aunt Hyejin’s voice prompted the attention of the table. “So, Anton, are you spending time at the clubhouse tomorrow too?” she asked.

“Yeah. A few friends are back in town, so I’ll be there a lot,” he replied, his tone casual.

“Oh, the clubhouse,” you deadpanned, unable to resist. “Sounds very exclusive.”

Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through his gaze. “It’s just a place to hang out,” he said evenly.

“Hm. Fancy.” You stabbed at your food with a bit more force than necessary.

Junyoung snickered beside you, “She’s jealous.”

You elbowed him hard, making him yelp. Across the table, Anton’s lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.

When dinner was over and the plates were being cleared, Anton finally turned to you, his tone deceptively casual. “You’ve got some rice on your face.”

“What?” You froze, quickly swiping at your cheek.

“No, other side.”

You wiped again, glaring at him when his expression didn’t change. “Is it gone?”

He shrugged, standing up and grabbing his plate. “Sure,” he said, walking off, and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle under his breath.

Beside you, Junyoung was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

The morning light filtered through the open window, and the cool breeze made the thin curtains sway gently. You stretched lazily, the familiar sound of waves crashing against the shore reminding you that you were in the Lee family’s beach house, finally back after two years. 

You got up and brushed your teeth, observing your face in the mirror for any changes. As you stepped out of your room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and waffles made your tummy growl. You could hear your mom and Aunt Hyejin talking.

By the time you made it to the kitchen, they were already preparing to leave. Your mom turned to you with a smile. “We’ll be downtown all day to see the market and buy some things for the house. What are your plans for today, sweetie?”

“I think I’ll go for a swim,” you replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“That’s nice,” Aunt Hyejin chimed in, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I was thinking of asking Anton to show you around or take you to the clubhouse, but he went out for a jog early this morning.”

“Thanks, Auntie, but it’s okay,” you replied quickly, almost too quickly. “I don’t really care to see the clubhouse anyway.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow at your tone, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she kissed your forehead before grabbing her purse. “Alright, enjoy yourself. Don’t forget sunscreen!”

“Also, sweetheart,” Aunt Hyejin prompted, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Could you tell Anton when he gets back that I left a note for him? It’s on the fridge and tell him he needs to do it as soon as he’s back from his run.”

“Of course, Auntie. I’ll let him know.”

You walked them to the door, waving them off as they left, then headed upstairs to change. A swim sounded like the perfect way to spend your first real morning back—just you, the ocean, and some much-needed time to clear your head. Usually, Anton would wake you up early on your first day back and drag you to the beach for a swim, but you weren’t counting on it today.

When you made your way down to the beach, you weren’t expecting to find Junyoung and his friends there.

“Oh, it’s the old lady!” Junyoung called out to you as soon as he saw you, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“I’m not old, you brat,” you shot back, squinting at him. He’d gathered quite the group, and a few familiar faces smiled at you from where they sat on beach towels.

“Wow, you’re really here,” one of the girls, Hana, said with a laugh as she stood up to hug you. “It’s been ages!”

“It’s only been two years,” you chuckled, hugging her back. “But I can see that you’ve all grown up so much,” you added, marveling at how much they’d changed in two years. The boys were taller, the girls more polished, and there was an air of confidence about them that made you miss being a teenager a little.

“You sound like my grandma,” Hana teased, shaking her head.

“Don’t encourage her,” Junyoung interjected, smirking. “She’s ancient.”

You rolled your eyes, flicking sand at him playfully. “Whatever, I’m going for a swim. Enjoy roasting me while I’m gone.”

Junyoung laughed, holding up a hand as if in surrender. “Don’t drown, grandma!”

You flipped him off as you walked toward the water, grinning.

The water was cool and refreshing, lapping against your skin as you waded in deeper. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the beach slowly coming to life. Families were setting up umbrellas, kids were building sandcastles, and a couple was walking hand in hand along the shore. It was a scene you’d witnessed countless times over the years, but it never failed to make you smile.

Your thoughts drifted to the summers you’d spent here as a kid. Each year brought new faces—tourists you’d befriended for a few fleeting weeks, locals who became your seasonal playmates. You’d always been quick to mke friends and form bonds, though many of them faded as quickly as they’d formed.

And, of course, there were the crushes. The endless parade of cute boys who caught your eye. Some of them, you tried to shoot your shot. Most of them, you’d never had the courage to talk to. As usual, those feeling faded when the summer was over.

Well, except for one. Sungchan.

He’d been your longest-running crush, a boy from the neighborhood who was a few years older. Every summer, you’d spot him on the beach or at the local shops, always surrounded by friends, always smiling. You never got beyond the occasional shy wave or stolen glance, but that didn’t stop you from swooning over him every chance you got.

You smiled to yourself, wondering what he was up to these days. Was he still living here? Still as effortlessly cool as you remembered?

Your gaze drifted toward the lifeguard tower, the only unfamiliar fixture along the beachline. It wasn’t there last time you were here, but that wasn’t the reason you couldn’t keep your gaze away. Sitting there, casually surveying the beach, was none other than Sungchan. And he looked even better than you remembered.

His features had sharpened with age, his shoulders broader, his smile just as dazzling. He wore a red lifeguard tank top and sunglasses, looking relaxed and confident as he chatted with another lifeguard.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, treading water as you stared. “He’s still ridiculously handsome. Great.”

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away. You weren’t that starstruck kid anymore, and you weren’t about to start crushing on him all over again.

Soon, the water started to lose its allure when the morning sun climbed higher and the heat started to prick your shoulder. With a content sigh, you decided to head back toward the shore. You ran your fingers through your wet hair, mentally noting how good the ocean always felt no matter how many summers you spent here.

But just as your feet hit the shallows, a sudden shout caught your attention.

“HEADS UP!”

Before you could react, something smacked into your forehead with a dull thunk. The world turned slightly as you stumbled backward, landing awkwardly in the sand.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A boy hurried over, looking horrified as he grabbed the Frisbee floating on the water.

“It’s alright,” you muttered, waving him off as you pushed yourself up.

“Hey, are you okay?” another voice called out—calm, authoritative. You turned your head, and there he was, Sungchan, jogging toward you.

The boy with the Frisbee immediately began apologizing again, but Sungchan dismissed him with a quick, “It’s alright, just be more careful next time.” His focus shifted to you. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, trying to brush sand off your legs. “No. I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Sungchan cut you off, gesturing at your forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” You blinked, reaching up to touch your temple. Sure enough, there was a faint smear of blood when you looked at your fingers.

“Just a small cut,” he said, helping you up. “Come on, let’s clean that up.”

You barely had time to protest before Sungchan was already leading you toward the lifeguard tower. You waited by the steps as he grabbed a first aid kit with urgency.

“Sit,” he said as he stepped down. You sat and watched Sungchan do his thing. “This’ll sting a little,” he warned, dabbing at your cut with an antiseptic wipe.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. The proximity was overwhelming—he smelled like sunscreen and saltwater, his face far too close for comfort.

As he finished cleaning the cut, Sungchan grabbed a band-aid and carefully placed it over the small wound. His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked suddenly.

Of course, he didn’t remember you. “I guess,” you said, offering a small, nervous smile as you told him your name. “From a couple summers ago.”

Sungchan’s hands paused for a second, recognition lighting up his face. “Ah! Yes. I remember you now.” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. You’ve… changed.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’ve changed quite a bit too.”

He smiled and pointed at yout cut. “You’re lucky it was just a small scratch,” he said, eyes lingering on you. “Or else I might have had to go full lifeguard mode and perform some CPR.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the lifeguard tower. “I’m pretty sure I’d survive without the dramatic rescue.”

Sungchan chuckled, his voice dropping just low enough for you to hear. “You sure? Because I don’t mind saving you each time you need me to.”

A small laugh escaped you, feeling more at ease now. “Why, thank you. But I think I can handle myself.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” he said, his tone shifting to something a little more teasing. “But I really wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk. “Is that so? Are you flirting with me, Sungchan?”

He shrugged, pretending to look innocent. “Would it be so bad if I was?” he asked back, gaze flicking at your lips for a split-second.

Before you could respond, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. When you glanced sideways, it was Anton. He stood just a few feet away, his expression dark and unreadable. His eyes moved from you to Sungchan, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

You waved at him. “Hey! You’re back!” you called out, remembering Aunt Hyejin’s instruction to remind him of a chore.

Anton didn’t respond, his eyes flicking over you briefly before he turned and jogged toward the house, his pace quick as if he had somewhere to be.

You frowned slightly, unable to dismiss the attitude. “I’ve gotta go,” you said, standing up quickly. “Thanks for this. And see you around, Sungchan.”

“Oh, you’re leaving?” Sungchan asked, his tone still light, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He stood up too. “Will I see you at the party tonight? 8pm at the clubhouse?”

You didn’t give it much thought as you glanced at Anton’s retreating figure. “Yeah! See you there!” You flashed a smile, already jogging after Anton.

“Anton, wait up!” you called, sprinting after him on the sand. Your feet sank with every step, making it harder to keep up. He didn’t even glance back, his strides deliberate and fast, like he was on a mission to get as far away from you as possible.

“Seriously? Are you even listening?” you shouted, frustration lacing your voice.

Still nothing. By the time you made it to the house, your chest was heaving, partly from running and partly from annoyance. Anton was already in the kitchen, chugging down a glass of water.

“Your mom left a note for you on the fridge,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

He didn’t say a word, just set the glass down, turned the fridge door, yanked the note and held it up for you to see without a word.

“What? It’s for you, not me,” you blurted, crossing your arms.

Anton simply folded the note in half, shoved it into his pocket, and walked away. You stood there, fuming, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner. What was his problem?

Something was definitely wrong. Leaning against the counter, you tried to make sense of what just happened. Was it something you said? Something you did? You wracked your brain, sifting through every interaction you’d had with him, wondering if you somehow did something to offend or anger him in any way.

The last time you’d seen him was at your high school graduation two years ago. He’d been his usual self then—kind, supportive, making jokes to ease your nerves before the ceremony. If something had happened between then and now, it would have to be major for him to act like this after two whole years. But try as you might, you couldn’t think of anything.

And maybe that was true, this wasn’t about what you did. Maybe nothing had happened at all. Maybe this was just him now—more distant, more mature. The kind of guy who had outgrown childhood friendships.

Your chest tightened as the realization slowly crept in. Anton has changed. He doesn’t even look like the Anton you knew anymore. The messy bangs that used to fall into his eyes were gone, replaced by a clean, swept-back look that showed off his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Back then, he had that cute, boy-next-door thing going on, but now? Now he looked like he’d stepped out of some posh fashion campaign.

Even his eyes were different. They were the same shade, sure, but the warmth was missing. Instead, they felt sharper, like he wasn’t just looking at you but sizing you up, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you anymore.

It was weird. And upsetting. Because no matter how much you tried to shake it off, it felt like the guy you used to know was gone. And you weren’t sure if you should feel proud of the man he’d become or mourn the boy you’d lost.

The tinkling sound of the door chime signaled someone’s arrival, jolting you out of your thoughts. Your mom popped her head in from the main door, flashing you a quick smile. “Hi, hun. Can you come down and help with the groceries? We’ve got bags of stuff to unload.”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, grateful for the excuse to stop spiraling. “I’ll go change first.” You pushed off the counter and headed for the stairs, trying to leave thoughts of Anton behind.

Chatter filled the kitchen as you unpacked groceries with your mom and Aunt Hyejin. They worked efficiently and synchronously, the kind of rhythm that only came from years of friendship.

“I’m telling you, we did not run into a celebrity at the market,” Aunt Hyejin said, waving a carton of eggs for emphasis.

“Then why did he look exactly like Gong Yoo?” your mom shot back, her tone smug.

“Because you see Gong Yoo in every man with nice hair and a sharp jawline,” Aunt Hyejin retorted, placing the eggs on the counter.

“What about that one time at the airport…”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as they continued their playful bickering. And just as your mood started to lighten, Anton walked into the kitchen. Without a word, he handed an envelope to Aunt Hyejin. His mom looked at it briefly and set it aside, mid-sentence with your mom.

Anton turned to leave, but then paused. “I’m heading to the clubhouse,” he said, his tone flat.

Aunt Hyejin looked up with a casual smile on her face. “Why don’t you take her with you?” she asked, nodding toward you. “I’m sure she’s bored hanging out with us.”

Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary. His expression was unreadable, but something in his stare made you shift uncomfortably.

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine, Auntie. I’ll go next time.”

Anton tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smirk. “She doesn’t need me to take her there anyway,” he said, his voice laced with a condescension that set your teeth on edge. “She’s already got someone’s invitation to tonight’s party.”

The insinuation hit its mark, and for a second, you stared at him, trying to process the shade he’d just thrown. He didn’t wait for a response, though. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you simmering in annoyance.

Your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanged a look. “Did you two fight?” your mom asked, eyebrows raised in concern.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, slamming a box of cereal onto the counter. “He’s been grumpy since this morning. I don’t wanna deal with it. And seriously, what’s up with his hair?”

“I think it looks great on him,” your mom said, glancing at Aunt Hyejin. “He’s grown so much in just two years. I almost didn’t recognize him at first.”

Aunt Hyejin nodded, a fond smile softening her features. “Yeah. Junyoung kept saying he’s got a glow up. We’re a family of late bloomers, you see.”

Their conversation continued, shifting to reminiscing about childhood antics and growth spurts, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Your hands moved automatically, storing away groceries, while your mind replayed Anton’s jab over and over. Annoyance bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over.

By the time the last bag was unpacked, you were practically seething. If this was the new Anton, you weren’t sure how much of him you could take.

The clubhouse was already crowded when you arrived. It was the same lively scene you remembered from previous summers: groups of people chatting at small tables, others lounging by the bar, drinks and snacks being passed around, strobe lights, and noisy music.

“Hey, you made it!” Sungchan’s familiar voice rang out above the noise. He was by the pool table, his grin as easy as ever, as he waved you over.

You smiled and headed his way. “Barely,” you teased. “This place is packed.”

“Summer crowd,” he said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Sungchan was effortlessly charming, bringing you into conversations with people you’d only vaguely remembered from previous summers—or didn’t know at all. He had a way of making things feel casual, light, and fun, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing with his friends.

Somewhere in between introductions, Sungchan leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially.  “Did you come here with Anton?”

Your smile faltered. “No. Why?”

He tilted his head toward the bar. “Because he’s been looking this way every five seconds since you walked in.”

You followed his gaze, and there he was—Anton, leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand. His relaxed posture contradicted the sharpness in his eyes as they flicked in your direction. He was talking to a group of people you recognized as the self-proclaimed elites of the clubhouse—the rich kids, the ones he’d always found insufferable.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Since when had Anton started hanging out with them? He used to avoid this place altogether, grumbling about the kids who were too rich, too smug, and too full of themselves. And yet, there he was, laughing along with them, fitting in like he’d belonged there all along. 

Before you could dwell on it, a voice called out your name. You spun around to see Yejin, one of the friends you’d spent countless summer days with.

“There you are!” she called, waving from a nearby table. “Took you long enough!”

Grateful for the distraction, you turned away from Anton and made your way to Yejin, Hana, and Sohee, who greeted you with the kind of warmth and comfort that came from being with people you’d known for years. You got swept up in a hearty conversation—reminiscing, teasing, catching up on the details of two summers you’d missed. They bombarded you with questions, half-complaints about your absence, and enough inside jokes to make you laugh until your cheeks hurt.

“But seriously,” Sohee said, narrowing her eyes at you. “Where were you?”

“Life just got crazy, okay?” you explained, putting your hands up in mock surrender.

“Crazy? You ditched us for two whole years!” Hana chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “That’s two summers.”

“I know. So instead of holding me hostage for being gone, how about filling me in on what I missed?” you shot back, laughing.

Yejin leaned closer, her voice dripping with mischief. “We’ll fill you in, all right. But first—what’s going on with you and Sungchan?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but before you could, Sungchan appeared beside you, an innocent smile plastered across his face.

“Am I the topic of conversation?” he asked, his elbow nudging yours as he stood beside you. “I see, you’re catching up with your friends.”

Yejin narrowed her eyes at Sungchan, feigning suspicion. “Mr. Jung Sungchan, what’s the meaning of this?”

Sungchan glanced briefly at you. “Nothing. Your cute friend just happened to be generous enough to spare some of her precious time for me.”

Your friends exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Sohee was uncannily loud. “Generous enough? Surely you knew she was head over—”

You lunged at him, covering his mouth before he could finish talking. “This party is amazing, isn’t it?”

Sungchan just chuckled. “It is. Like I said, summer crowd.”

The chat continued, most of the attention directed at you because obviously, they wanted to catch up with you.

“So, are you two like a thing now?” Yejin asked, her tone playful as she raised an eyebrow at you and Sungchan.

“Definitely not,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

Sungchan clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow, didn’t even hesitate. And here I  was, thinking we had something special.”

“Dude, we only started talking like five hours ago,” you retorted. “You’ll live.”

The group erupted in laughter, and Sohee grinned. “I don’t know, man. You seem to have some competition.”

“Competition?” Sungchan repeated.

Before Sohee could elaborate, Anton appeared beside him, clapping a hand on his back. “Don’t mind him,” he said, his voice smooth but pointed. “Sohee thinks everything’s a competition. Remember last summer’s beach volleyball? He still claims he didn’t cheat.”

Sohee gasped, his hand to his chest. “I didn’t!”

“Sure,” Anton drawled, his gaze flicking briefly to you before shifting back to Sohee. “Just like you didn’t accidentally trip over Hana to block that shot.”

“Speaking of beach volleyball,” Sungchan slid back into the group seamlessly, his charm lighting up the conversation. He nudged your arm playfully. “Weren’t you a former MVP?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I used to be. That was three years ago, though. I think I’ve gotten rusty.”

“Don’t be modest,” Yejin teased, grinning at Sungchan. “She was a menace on the court. You’ve seen her, right? Our team was unbeatable because of her.”

Hana pointed at Sungchan. “Remember when we massacred Bay Area-3 four years ago? Must’ve sucked,” she added, shaking her head in exaggerated pity.

You hummed contentedly, leaning into the lightheartedness. “Too bad the season’s over. I would’ve loved to do it again.”

“Hey, I was on that team too,” Sohee interjected, pouting as if his contributions had been forgotten.

Sungchan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think we need a rematch. Let me know when you’re ready to lose.”

Yejin scoffed. “You’re on.”

“I’ll referee,” Anton offered unexpectedly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone’s gotta keep things fair, after all.”

“Oh, because you’re so unbiased?” you quipped before you could stop yourself.

Anton glanced at you, his gaze steady but unreadable. “I’m just saying, someone needs to make sure Sungchan doesn’t get away with calling fouls on every play.”

“Hey, I don’t do that!” Sungchan protested, laughing.

“You totally do,” Yejin chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Remember last time? Every time you missed, suddenly it was, ‘The sun was in my eyes,’ or, ‘That wasn’t regulation height.’”

The group dissolved into laughter, and after some playful banter, a spontaneous agreement was made to hold a beach volleyball rematch in a few days. Sungchan excused himself first, saying he needed to spread the word to his Bay Area-3 team.

To you, he added, “You can find me back at the pool table later. Have fun catching up.”

As Sungchan walked away, you felt a prickle of awareness. Anton’s gaze was on you again. You met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. What? you mouthed, a silent challenge.

Predictably, he didn’t respond. His expression didn’t change, but he looked away, taking a slow sip from his drink. The moment passed as one of his new, polished friends called him over. He offered your group a brisk goodbye before heading back to their circle.

You exhaled, but your chest felt tight. It was weird seeing Anton blend so naturally with people he’d once disliked. You hadn’t realized how much it bothered you until now.

“Since when has he been hanging out with those people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and maybe the faintest trace of disbelief—out of your voice.

Hana leaned closer, lowering her tone conspiratorially. “He went to the same college as some of them. It’s actually kind of impressive, in a way. I didn’t think any of them were smart enough to get into a good university.”

You nodded absently, your thoughts tangled. “It’s just... weird seeing him with them when he used to complain about them all the time.”

“Well, people change,” Yejin said with a shrug, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Maybe he likes them now.”

You didn’t respond. There was no point in sharing the discomfort curling in your stomach when no one else seemed fazed. Instead, you busied yourself with your drink as conversation shifted to lighter topics—new schools, old gossip, and what everyone had been up to since high school.

You smiled and laughed along, but your thoughts kept drifting. No matter how much you tried, they always found their way back to Anton.

The night was in full swing by the time you found yourself sitting at a round table with Yejin, Hana, and a few other familiar faces. Sungchan leaned back in his chair beside you, his easy grin practically lighting up the conversation.

“So,” one acquaintance said, raising an eyebrow as she swirled her drink, “how does it feel to be back after two years? Like nothing’s changed?”

You smiled, though the question struck a little too close to home. “It feels great, honestly. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until now.”

“You’re lucky we even let you back in,” another one teased, leaning forward with a mock stern look. “Two summers is basically an eternity.”

Yejin chimed in, pointing her straw at you. “I told you she’d just waltz back in like nothing happened.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but a new voice cut through the chatter. “That’s kind of her thing, isn’t it?”

Your head whipped toward Anton, who had been leaning casually against the wall nearby. His voice was calm, almost disinterested, but there was a sharpness to it that pricked at your skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, forcing a laugh that felt a little too light.

Anton glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at the group. “She’s good at jumping back into things like nothing ever happened.” Then to you, he said slowly and clearly, “That’s just how you’ve always been.”

The table went quiet for a few seconds too long. Sungchan shot you a look—half amused, half wary—while Yejin frowned, the corners of her mouth twitching as if unsure whether to laugh or intervene.

You felt your cheeks burn, but you refused to let it show. “Well, some of us don’t go through drastic changes in just two years,” you shot back, forcing a smile.

Anton’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, his lips curling in a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “Guess not.”

The conversation resumed, though the tension lingered in the background. Yejin quickly steered the group onto lighter topics, and soon enough, the table was filled with laughter again.

But you couldn’t shake away Anton’s words. They sat in the back of your mind, nagging at you even as you tried to ignore them.

Sungchan leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“Fine.” You smiled at him, grateful, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, your eyes found Anton again, now standing by the bar with a drink in hand. He didn’t look your way, but you were swearing at him in your head, determined to get to the bottom of whatever his problem was as soon as you were alone.

The wait didn’t take long. While you were squeezed beside Sungchan on a plush couch, his arm draped over your shoulder, feeling more carefree after several drinks, Anton appeared before you with his brows furrowed.

“I’m going home,” he said flatly, his eyes flicking between you and Sungchan.

You scowled. “And? What does that have to do with me?”

He sighed, taking your drink away and placing it on the table with a pointed glance. “Your mom would kill me if I left without you. Come on.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, bidding Sungchan a quick goodbye. He let you go with a soft kiss on your cheek, his voice warm as he said, “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew you’d probably forget. Your focus was already on Anton, who was heading out the door without waiting for you.

You struggled to catch up with his long strides, but you didn’t complain, knowing he’d just ignore you if you did. The alcohol made your annoyance simmer louder, and in your head, you practiced the scathing words you’d unleash as soon as you were alone with him.

But Anton had other plans. The car stereo blasted as soon as the engine started, drowning out any attempt you made to speak. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and it made you angrier.

The ride felt like an eternity, tension crackling in the silence between the loud beats of the music. When the car finally pulled up in the garage, Anton got out without a word, leaving you to stumble after him. He was already halfway inside the house when you kicked off your heels and stormed in.

“You’re back early,” Aunt Hyejin greeted from the living room, where she and your mom sat in their pajamas watching a movie. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Hi, Auntie. Hi, Mom,” you said briskly, barely glancing their way as you followed Anton up the stairs.

“What happened?” your mom called after you, but you didn’t stop to answer.

The alcohol made it easier to ignore the logic telling you to let it go. You caught the door just as Anton was about to close it, your hand slamming against the wood.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped as you pushed your way into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Anton didn’t even flinch. He casually walked over to his closet, rummaging through it for a fresh shirt. “What is it this time?” His tone was too monotonous, almost mocking.

“‘That’s just how you’ve always been.’” You gestured wildly, your voice rising with frustration as you mimicked his indifferent tone. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Anton?”

His brow twitched, and for a split second, you thought he might actually look sorry. But no. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms like he had all the time in the world to deal with your meltdown.

“It’s not that deep,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You’re overreacting.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Overreacting? You’ve barely said two words to me since I got here, and when you finally do, it’s to throw some passive-aggressive jab about how I’ve ‘always been’ like that? What is it exactly? Too loud? Too much? Too—”

“Annoying,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through your tirade.

The word struck a nerve, silencing you. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.

“Annoying?” you echoed, your voice shaking. “Wow. So that’s what you think of me now? Or have you always thought I was annoying?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if this conversation was physically exhausting him. “Why are you so hung up on this?”

“Am I?” You took a step closer, your pulse quickening as anger spiked through you. “Alright then, sue me for always being like this. I didn’t change like you did. I’m still annoying, and I’ve—” You made air quotes, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “—‘always been like this.’”

“Enough,” Anton sighed, exasperated.

“What other grievances do you have against me, Anton?” you shot back, your patience worn thin. “Come on. Let’s hear it.”

“That’s enough,” he said firmly, uttering your name warningly in a way that made your stomach flip—not with fear, but with something far more complicated.

But you weren’t about to back down. “No, I’m not done. You don’t get to act like you’re some untouchable, brooding—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist—not hard, but enough to make you freeze. His other hand settled on your waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. You opened your mouth to protest, but his lips crashed into yours before you could even make a sound.

Anton kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was messy and careless, born of frustration and something you couldn’t put a finger on. Your hands pressed against his chest instinctively, not enough to push him away but not quite pulling him closer either.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was warm against your cheek. His grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely.

“See?” he muttered, smirking as he took a small step back. “Still annoying.”

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind a storm of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite name. Anton seemed completely unfazed, tugging his shirt off and changing right there in front of you. You were still frozen in place when he glanced back at you, flicking your forehead with an almost playful arrogance.

“Ow!” you groaned, snapped back to reality.

“It's just a kiss. Don’t obsess over it,” he teased, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before he turned, striding toward the door.

You stood there, the words echoing in your head—‘Just a kiss.’ He didn’t even look back as he walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of his room, heart still racing, mind still reeling.

You first met Anton when you were seven. It was the first of your many summers in their little hometown by the sea. Your mom had just finished unpacking your bags when Anton’s mother brought him over to say hello.

He didn’t say much, hiding behind her skirt and eyeing you like you were some strange creature he wasn’t sure he liked yet. But that didn’t last long. Later that afternoon, when the adults were chatting over iced tea on the porch, he shyly tugged at your sleeve and said, “Do you wanna see my pet turtle?”

You had gasped at the time, pleasantly surprised. “You have a turtle?”

“Yeah! It looks like a dinosaur!” he had responded with gleaming eyes.

That was all it took. One look at the tiny turtle swimming in a glass tank on his bedroom windowsill, and suddenly you weren’t just visiting strangers—you had a friend.

Summer after summer, the two of you grew closer. You didn’t get to spend Christmases together or birthdays, but summer break was sacred. Your families would get together at their beach house like a tradition, and that house quickly became a second home to you. Its wooden floors creaked under your bare feet, and the salty breeze always carried the sound of seagulls and laughter.

Anton was funny in a way that always caught you off guard, soft-spoken but bursting with energy when the mood struck. He had a wild streak too, like the time he dared you to jump off the pier into the ocean—even though you’d both been warned a hundred times not to. You ended up doing it, and you both got grounded for the rest of the week.

When you were eleven, he taught you how to ride a bike—well, tried to. He kept insisting he wasn’t laughing at you every time you tipped over, but you could see the way he bit his lip to hold back a grin. And when you finally managed to ride down the dirt path without falling, he cheered so loudly the neighbors peeked out their windows to see what all the fuss was about.

He wasn’t always the wild one, though. There were quieter moments too—like when the two of you built sandcastles on the beach and argued about whether a moat was necessary, or when you’d sit under the teepee in his room, eating popsicles and reading comic books.

For years, he was a head shorter than you, something you loved to tease him about relentlessly. “When are you gonna catch up, Anton?” you’d giggle, ruffling his hair.

“You’ll see,” he’d retort with a determined pout. “I’m gonna grow taller than you someday. Dad said it’s gonna happen soon.”

It became an annual joke, one he stubbornly refused to give up on even as the years passed and your height difference barely changed. Then, when you were sixteen, it finally happened. You came back that summer and found Anton waiting at the door, looking taller than he’d ever been. At first, you didn’t believe it, but the smug grin on his face told you he waited for you at the front door on purpose.

“You’re standing on something,” you accused, squinting at him.

“Nope,” he said, grinning wide as he tapped his bare feet against the porch. “I told you, didn’t I?”

By then, he wasn’t just taller; he was different in ways you couldn’t quite put into words. It was sometime after that same summer that you realized your feelings for Anton weren’t as simple as you thought.

You were teenagers, going through all the awkward, messy stages of puberty. He was becoming more handsome by the day, his boyish features sharpening in ways that made you notice things you hadn’t before. His smile seemed more charming, his laughter endearing, and you were left grappling with a new, inconvenient truth—you had a crush on your best friend.

It wasn’t like it was hard to fall for him. You’d never given it much thought before, but Anton had always been attentive to you. Having a crush on him made you see him in a different light, and his kind nature soon made your heart flutter. He teased you mercilessly, sure, but he always knew when to stop. If you were upset or sulking, he had this uncanny ability to bring you out of it without even trying.

He’d wait for you at the end of the dock whenever you hesitated to jump, his hand outstretched with a soft smile on his lips. If you got hurt—whether it was a scraped knee or a bruised ego—he was always the first to check on you. He never let you carry heavy things, always taking your bag without a word even when you protested. Sometimes you’d be shivering after a late swim, he would throw his towel over your shoulders and grin, saying you looked like a wet puppy.

He had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world, even when he was teasing you. Like the summer he spent two hours untangling the kite you’d accidentally gotten stuck in a tree, refusing to let you help because “you’ll just make it worse.” Or the time he taught you how to skip stones on the water. He’d stood behind you, guiding your arm with his, his chest brushing your back as he whispered instructions, so close you could barely focus. 

For a while, you were convinced you were in love with him. But even then, you knew better than to say anything. What if it ruined everything? What if your confession turned your friendship into something awkward and strained? What would his parents—your second family—think if you jeopardized the bond your two families shared?

So, you buried it. Tucked away that silly, puppy love into the deepest corners of your mind, letting it stay there as a bittersweet secret. You told yourself it was fine. You didn’t need him to love you back. It was enough just to be around him, to laugh with him, to call him your best friend.

And it worked. For years, it worked.

He went back to being your platonic soulmate, the person who knew you better than anyone else. The crush faded into the background, becoming a harmless relic of your teenage years—something you could look back on with fondness but without longing. Anton was family. Almost like a brother, considering the way you’d grown up together.

Or so you thought..

Now, you lay in your dimly lit bedroom, staring at the ceiling with your hand pressed to your chest. You could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours, and the memory played on a loop in your mind. 

Anton had kissed you. On the lips. And you didn’t know how to feel about it.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. You did know.

The affection you’d convinced yourself was long gone—that you’d painstakingly buried under layers of denial—wasn’t gone at all. It had been lying dormant, quietly waiting for something to wake it up. And now, with one impulsive kiss, Anton had yanked it out of its slumber.

What made it worse was Anton himself. He didn’t seem the least bit affected. He’d walked out of the room as if the kiss meant nothing, leaving you to deal with the fallout alone. Did he even care? Did he even think about what it would do to you, kissing you like that and walking away?

You let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your palms to your eyes as if you could physically stop your thoughts from spiraling.

It was too much. Anton had been too much these days. And now, he’d managed to unravel years of carefully built denial with one impulsive, reckless kiss.

What are you supposed to do now?

The next few days were unbearable. You tried your best to pretend nothing had happened between you and Anton, but that had never been your strong suit. Pretending didn’t come naturally to you, and something as major as that kiss was impossible to ignore. And Anton? Oh, he must have been having the time of his life watching you squirm.

He didn’t ignore you anymore—not like before—but a big part of you wished he just stayed indifferent and mean. He’d sit beside you at breakfast, close enough for his knee to bump against yours under the table. He’d call your name just to ask something unimportant, so casually too like the kiss didn’t even happen. Then, every once in a while, he’d throw in a remark that made your stomach flip.

“Still thinking about it?” he asked once, leaning against the dock railing as you peered down at the clear water.

You’d nearly dropped your phone in the water. “About what?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “You know what.”

You wanted to strangle him.

And the worst part? He didn’t care if anyone else was around when he did it. Around family, he kept his teasing just vague enough that no one else would catch on, subtle enough not to raise suspicions. But his remarks were bold enough to set your heart racing and leave you panicking that someone might pick up on your little secret.

By the time a week had passed, you were on the brink of losing it.

Anton’s dad had arrived back from work, and to celebrate, the family decided on a big barbecue dinner. Naturally, you and Anton were tasked with picking up groceries. It was something you often did together, but that was before. Now you just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Still, you didn’t argue. Obviously you couldn’t risk drawing attention to yourself and raising questions. Since the kiss, you hadn’t yet been alone with him, and the thought of sitting in a car with just him was making your stomach churn.

When Anton leaned over to buckle your seatbelt—his hand brushing your arm in a way that felt entirely too intentional—you swatted him away.

“I can do it myself,” you snapped.

He smirked, leaning back into his seat as if you hadn’t just scolded him. “You’re welcome.”

At the grocery store, things were mercifully normal. The conversation stayed focused on the errand. You stuck to the list, pointing out items while Anton grabbed them, and for a moment, it felt like those times in the past when you did the same errand. But then, as you were scanning a shelf for the right brand of barbecue sauce, you saw a familiar face along the aisle.

“Sungchan!” you called out, waving a hand in the air and failing to notice Anton scowling behind you.

The sight of him brought a welcome distraction, and you walked over with a smile creeping onto your face. You exchanged pleasantries, and he introduced you to his mom, who seemed just as charming as he was. Over the past week, you’d been texting with him and had even gone on a few strolls along the beach. He was funny and easygoing, and things seemed to be going well—if only you could focus on this rather than having Anton occupy space in your head.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to Anton, who stood a few steps behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Small town,” you replied with a laugh.

You chatted for a few minutes before his mom gently reminded him about their errands. Before leaving, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. It was quick and casual, but it made your cheeks burn nonetheless.

“See you soon,” Sungchan said, stepping back. “Volleyball match is on Tuesday. Don’t forget,” he added, glancing between you and Anton before walking away.

You turned back to Anton, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flushed cheeks, but of course, he had.

“You’re blushing,” he said, his voice teasing but sharper at the edges than usual.

“It’s hot,” you muttered, grabbing a random bottle of barbecue sauce and tossing it into the cart without even looking at the label.

Anton reached over, grabbed the bottle, and placed it back on the shelf. “This one’s for pasta. You’re a mess today.”

You glared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t constantly trying to mess with me.”

“Who, me?” Anton’s expression was pure mock innocence.

“Yes, you!” You snatched another bottle off the shelf, shoving it into the cart with unnecessary force before walking ahead.

He trailed behind, his voice light but carrying a certain edge. “So... you and Sungchan, huh?”

“What about us?” you said flatly, not bothering to look back.

“Oh, nothing,” Anton replied, leaning casually against the cart handle. “It’s just cute, that’s all. The way he looks at you like you’re a goddess or something. And that kiss on the cheek?” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Real smooth.”

Your brows furrowed, genuinely wondering if he was being sarcastic. He looked at you and added, “Bet he writes poems about you in his free time.”

You scoffed. “Do you really think he’s that kind of guy? Have you seen him?”

Anton shrugged. “How would I know? I’m just making a guess since you’ve had the biggest crush on him for a long time and you once told me he looked like the kind of guy who writes poems for their girlfriend.”

You grimaced. “Ew. When did I say that?”

“When we were twelve,” he answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Your eyes widened slightly before you huffed. “Well, I was twelve. And I didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Anton scoffed mockingly. “No. He is that kind of guy. Romantic, spontaneous, and totally not like other guys who party till sunrise, chase after pretty girls and hookup for funsies,” he said sarcastically, smirking.

You turned to face him, your annoyance now outweighing your embarrassment. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem,” he said with a too-innocent shrug. “Just thought it was cute, that’s all. You’ve got a little admirer.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pack of skewers and tossing it into the cart. “Whatever. It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“Nice, sure,” Anton drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I do hope you don’t end up as another notch on his bedpost by the time summer ends.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” you shot back in frustration.

He straightened up, his smirk softening into something you couldn’t quite read. “What? I’m just looking out for you. Making sure you know what you’re getting into.”

“By mocking me?”

“By being honest,” he corrected, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You huffed, staring right back at him with no intention to back down. “Whatever I do this summer, whoever I do it with, is none of your business, Anton. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing since I got here. Keep ignoring me and continue acting like a total prick, because I’m done trying to figure out what I did so wrong to deserve this treatment from you.”

Anton’s smirk faltered, replaced by something harder to read. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned away. Without another word, he pushed the cart down the aisle, leaving you standing there, fuming and wondering if it was possible to strangle someone with barbecue tongs. 

The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against your chest, but you refused to dwell on it. Let him walk away if he wanted. Let him stew in whatever self-righteous attitude he’d decided to adopt this summer. You’re done walking on eggshells around him.

In the evening, you gathered in the backyard with your mom and the Lee family, everyone moving around busily to prepare dinner—setting up the table, checking the grill, and bringing out the salads and sides.

The sound of sizzling meat, the laughter and chatter, along with the faint echo of the waves lapping at the beach made you feel nostalgic. Barbecue nights like this had been a staple of your summers here. You hadn’t thought about them much in the two years you were away, but now that you were experiencing it again, you realized how much you’d missed it.

You focused on your tasks, determined to push away the tension from earlier at the store. The last thing you wanted was to let Anton get under your skin.

But Anton had other ideas. He was stuck to you like glue. Every time you moved to do something, he was right there, offering to help.

While you were helping Aunt Hyejin arrange side dishes, you were also trying to brush off the occasional bump of Anton’s shoulder as he reached for something nearby. It was hard to ignore the way he hovered close—not enough to draw attention, but enough to keep your nerves on edge.

“Need anything?” he asked as you washed the lettuce.

You glanced at him, your expression flat. “No, I’m good,” you said, shaking the excess water off the leaves.

He didn’t seem to take the hint. “You sure? I can—”

“No,” you cut him off, tugging the lettuce away when he reached for it. “I can do it myself.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, but instead of arguing, he grabbed a tray of meat and started skewering it—purposefully working a little too close to where you were standing.

The family, oblivious to your silent war, carried on. Junyoung teased you about your time abroad, nudging you playfully. “Bet you missed this, huh?”

“Missed what?” you asked, playing along.

“This. You can’t get this kind of barbecue anywhere else.”

You laughed but didn’t answer because Anton spoke first. “Junyoung, didn’t Dad ask you to get the charcoal?”

“Oh, crap. Right.” Junyoung hurried off, leaving you and Anton alone at the counter.

Your eyes flicked toward Anton who seemed too immersed in his task. “Move. I need space for this,” you demanded, motioning to the tray in your hand.

His gaze shifted to you for a moment, before he returned to the meat and vegetables. “If you’re done with that, come help me with these,” he said flatly.

Scoffing, you picked up the tray of washed greens and headed outside.

Once everything was set up, you took a seat at the long table, intentionally placing yourself as far from Anton as possible. Plates were filled, glasses poured, and lively chatter filled the air. But just as you lifted your fork, Anton’s voice caught your attention.

“Junyoung, move over. I’m sitting there.”

Your eyes widened as Anton casually nudged his brother out of the way, sliding into the seat beside you without hesitation. Junyoung gave you a confused look, and you could only shrug.

Anton glanced at you as he settled in. “You don’t mind, right?” he asked, his tone almost too sweet, like he wasn’t giving you a choice.

You grimaced. “Do whatever you want. It’s your house.”

To your surprise, Anton became uncharacteristically attentive. He refilled your plate with meat, made wraps for you, and handed over dishes you couldn’t reach. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but it was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his actions—or the way his gaze lingered a little too long.

It wasn’t long before Anton’s father spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. “Well, it’s nice to see you two getting along again,” he said, his gentle gaze flicking between you and Anton.

Anton raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “What do you mean?”

“The two of you,” his father replied, pointing at you and Anton. “I heard whispers about how you two weren’t speaking while I was gone. Did something happen?”

“You noticed that?” Anton asked.

Your mom chimed. “Oh, we all did. You’ve been inseparable since you were kids. Of course we’d notice if you suddenly act like strangers.”

“It’s good that you’ve made up. I thought we’d have to mediate some big falling out,” Aunt Hyejin added with a laugh, glancing between you and Anton.

Anton’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the wrap he was making.

“It was weird,” your mom continued, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease. “These two were like peas in a pod growing up. They’d even sneak out at night to stargaze on the beach together. Remember that?”

You groaned inwardly. “Mom, please.”

“Oh, don’t act embarrassed,” your aunt said, waving a hand. “It’s cute! We all thought it was adorable.”

Anton’s father narrowed his eyes playfully. “So, what happened? Did you fight?”

Before you could stammer out a reply, Anton finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Nothing happened. We’re fine.”

“That’s it?” his father pressed, clearly unsatisfied.

Anton glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. “That’s it.”

The table erupted into laughter, with your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, I guess all’s well that ends well,” your mom said, smiling. “You two were always quick to make up anyway.”

You tried to laugh it off, focusing on your plate and ignoring the way Anton’s arm brushed against yours under the table.

As the meal wrapped up and people began clearing plates, Anton stood abruptly. He didn’t announce anything to the table, just leaned down slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Air?” he asked simply, gesturing toward the beach.

For a moment, you hesitated. Then, realizing the family’s focus was elsewhere, you pushed your chair back and followed him.

Anton led the way down the path toward the beach, hands in his pockets. You followed, keeping your eyes on the back of his head as your feet sank slightly into the cool sand. The sound of waves crashing on the shore stirred something in you—restlessness, maybe. Or nostalgia.

Then he stopped by the shoreline, where the water lapped softly, and sat down.

“Are you planning to stand there all night?” he asked, glancing up at you and tapping the space next to him.

You rolled your eyes and plopped down a few feet away, deliberately creating distance. The breeze tugged at your hair, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence.

“They think we’ve made up,” you said finally, breaking the stillness.

Anton huffed a quiet laugh. “They’ve got no idea, huh?”

“Not a clue,” you replied, smirking faintly. “I don’t even know why we were fighting. Or if it was even a fight in the first place. This is your fault.”

His brow quirked at that, but instead of biting back, he chuckled softly. “Maybe it was me. I’ll take the blame.”

“You’ve been sticking to me all night,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Acting all nice, making wraps for me at dinner… What’s that about?”

Anton tilted his head toward you, his expression unreadable. “Why? You don’t like it?”

You shot him a look. “No, it’s just weird. You’ve been a prick all week, and now suddenly you’re trying to play nice. What’s your deal?”

He leaned back on his hands, eyes drifting to the horizon. “Maybe I just felt bad,” he said finally. “For these past few days, I mean.”

You snorted, trying to hide the way his sincerity caught you off guard. “So, what? It took you this long to feel bad?”

His gaze slid back to yours, and this time, it lingered. The playful edge in his expression softened, replaced by something quieter, something heavier.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

The words hung between you, stirring up emotions you weren’t prepared to unpack. You wanted to brush it off, to throw a snarky remark his way and shift the mood back to something you could handle, but the look in his eyes kept you rooted in place.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but he beat you to it.

“I didn’t mean to treat you like that,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t mean to change… us.”

Your heart twisted, but you forced a scoff. “You didn’t mean it? Could’ve fooled me.”

Anton didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at you, his eyes tracing your features like he was seeing them for the first time. The ocean breeze carried the faint scent of the summer evening, and the sound of waves crashing filled the spaces his words left behind.

And for a moment, you thought he might close the distance. His shoulders shifted, his posture leaning ever so slightly toward you, his gaze dropping to your lips—so brief you almost thought you imagined it.

But just as quickly, he pulled back. His expression returned to the smirk you were all too familiar with.

“Welp, let’s not get too sentimental,” he said lightly, brushing sand off his hands as he stood up. “You might actually start thinking I’ve changed for the better.”

You blinked, caught somewhere between frustration and something softer, as he offered you a hand to help you up.

“I still haven’t decided if I like this version of you,” you muttered, brushing past him as you started back toward the house.

He chuckled, walking ahead of you and gently bumping your shoulder as he passed you. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

A part of you wondered if the conversation was done for the night. But as you glanced at the back of his head, you couldn’t resist one last question.

“Why did you do it?” you called out.

Anton slowed but didn’t stop, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Do what?”

You caught up, falling into step beside him. “Why’d you kiss me?”

He didn’t react right away, his gaze shifting back to the path ahead. “You’re asking me that now? Have you been thinking about it all week?” he asked with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m serious. Come on,” you said, keeping your tone light but steady. “It’s not because you wanted to, right? I was just getting on your nerves, and there was no other way to shut me up. Right, Anton? Right?”

Your heart thudded in your chest as the silence stretched. Anton finally came to a stop, his hands slipping into his pockets as he turned to face you. The moonlight caught the faint curve of his smirk, but his eyes were unreadable.

“Wrong,” he said simply.

“What?” you blurted, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

Anton turned and kept walking, leaving you standing there, staring after him as the word echoed in your mind.

The weekend at the beach house passed in a blur. After your conversation with Anton, things between you weren’t awkward anymore, but they weren’t exactly normal either. You talked like usual, bantered like usual, interacted like usual—everything was as usual. Except for when his eyes would focus on you every now and then—the kind of look that seemed to communicate something your mind couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they meant something.

Sometimes, when it was just the two of you—bringing drinks outside or crossing paths in the hallway—you found yourself running through a dozen different scenarios in your head. Ones where the air grew heavy, his hand brushed yours, and somehow, the silence ended in a feverish kiss. You weren’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but they made you giddy and nervous at the same time, unsure how to handle the growing interest that crept quietly under your skin.

Soon, the day of the volleyball game rolled around, and you headed to the beach with your friends. Sungchan was easy to spot near the net, casually chatting with a group while fiddling with the ropes. When he caught sight of you, his smile stretched wide as he jogged toward you.

“You finally showed up,” he teased, hands on his hips.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone. “I’m literally on time.”

“Late, early—it’s all relative.” He grinned, taking a step back and gesturing to the setup. “So, wanna be on my team? I’m giving you a chance to switch sides before we kick your team’s ass.”

You scoffed. “How generous. But I’ve already pictured your defeat in my head, so, no thank you.”

His laugh was easy, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze softened as it lingered on you. That familiar charm of his—it was almost effortless, but you knew what you had to say.

“By the way, I have something to tell you,” you said, glancing past the others before looking back at him.

“Sure,” he nodded, his smile dimming just slightly. “That look is making me nervous, but let’s hear it.”

You took a breath. “You’re a fun guy, you really are. You’re nice too. And to be honest, I had a crush on you since I was like—” you shrugged—“twelve? I think?”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I really enjoyed hanging out with you, but  I don’t think I want to be anything other than friends with you.”

For a second, you worried how he’d take it. But Sungchan just stared at you, then let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you’d break my heart eventually.”

“Sungchan—”

“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, flashing his usual grin. “It’s cool, really. You didn’t drag it out, so thanks for that.”

Relief washed over you. “I just didn’t want to keep you hanging.”

“I know. I really appreciate that,” he replied, his grin turning teasing again. “Gives me more time to get to know other people. Lots of pretty girls in town this summer, you know? They’d be thrilled to know I’m still available.”

You couldn’t help chuckling. “Did you really just say that out loud?”

“Why not?” he said, smirking. “We’re friends. There’s no need to filter my words around friends.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, but the laughter that followed between you both was easy and genuine.

The volleyball setup was simple but lively—teams were already strategizing, with Sungchan’s voice ringing out as he rallied his group together. You lingered near the sidelines, soaking in the warm sun and salty breeze, until a familiar figure stepped into your peripheral vision.

Anton.

His hair was a little tousled from the wind, and he had that usual air of nonchalance as he approached. You noticed the faint furrow in his brow as his gaze shifted from Sungchan back to you.

“Are you ready for this?” you asked, keeping your tone casual.

Anton ignored the question entirely. “What were you two talking about?”

“Sungchan?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. “Nothing much. Just clearing the air.”

Anton narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, his jaw tightening slightly before he turned his attention to the players warming up.

“Didn’t think you’d actually referee,” you teased, eyeing his rashguard and short outfit.

“Someone has to keep things fair,” he replied, his tone dry as his eyes flicked to Sungchan, who was busy high-fiving his teammates.

You raised an eyebrow, catching his not-so-subtle focus. “What’s that look for?”

He shrugged, but his casual tone didn’t match the sharpness in his gaze. “Just wondering why you were all chummy with him.”

“What?” you said, rolling your eyes. “I told you. We were just talking. We’re friends. He’s nice.”

“Too nice, if you ask me,” Anton muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “You do remember that he’s older than us, right?”

You tilted your head, amusement tugging at your lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Anton Lee?”

“Not jealousy,” he shot back quickly. “Concern. You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Enemy? Aren’t referees supposed to be neutral and not pick sides.”

Anton’s lips twitched, but his expression remained guarded. “Not when it comes to him.”

“Sounds personal,” you teased.

Before he could reply, Sungchan’s voice called from across the net. “Hey, MVP! You ready to show us what you’ve got?”

A confident grin spread across your face as you turned to him. “Hope you’re ready to lose,” you shot back, adjusting your stance.

Anton muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “cocky,” but you ignored him, stepping onto the sand with the kind of ease that came from years of practice.

The game started fast, with energy running high as the teams gave their all to the game. You were quick on your feet, diving for saves and landing precise spikes that sent the ball flying past the other team’s defenses more than once.

“Still got it,” you muttered to yourself after a particularly clean shot, wiping sand off your knees.

“Nice!” Hana cheered, and you all huddled for a high-five.

Sungchan whistled, shaking his head as he retrieved the ball. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. But don’t think you’re getting another easy point.”

“Easy?” Hana echoed, smirking playfully. “Your team’s been missing half your serves. Why don’t you concede?”

“Less talking, more playing,” Yejin retorted, clapping her hands loudly.

The banter drew a laugh from the sidelines, where Anton stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Still, you caught the slight twitch of his lips whenever you scored, even if he didn’t say a word.

During a quick break, Sungchan jogged over, tossing you a water bottle. “You’re making me work harder than I thought,” he said, flashing his signature grin.

“Good,” you replied, taking a sip and wiping your brow. “I’m just getting started.”

Sungchan stood there for a few seconds, watching you. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “So, how are things with Anton?”

The water caught in your throat mid-sip, and you barely managed not to spit it out. Coughing, you waved him off as he laughed and patted your back. “What? Why would you even ask me that?”

“Has he told you about it yet?”

“About what?”

Sungchan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Don’t make me spell it out. The guy’s practically wearing a neon sign over his head that says, ‘I’m in love with her.’”

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re so dramatic. He doesn’t—”

“Sure, sure.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you’ve noticed, haven’t you? The way he gets all broody whenever we talk?”

“Broody?”

“You know, sulky. Jealous,” he grinned, casually draping an arm on your shoulder. “I didn’t think it would be so fun to tease him.”

Without thinking, you glanced over. Anton stood with his arms crossed, stealing glances at you and Sungchan. His face was unreadable, but the tight set of his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze gave him away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, turning back to Sungchan, though your pulse quickened under Anton’s gaze.

Before he could respond, a sharp whistle broke through the conversation.

“Break’s over,” Anton called, his voice firm as he motioned for everyone to get back into position.

Sungchan glanced at him, then back at you, grinning like he’d just cracked a code. “See? Broody.” He threw you a wink before jogging back to his side of the net.

As the game resumed, you couldn’t help but notice Anton’s slightly biased officiating—whistling a little too loud when Sungchan’s team scored, or muttering under his breath whenever their team celebrated.

By the time the final point was scored—your team taking the win with a flawless spike—you caught Anton watching you again, his expression softening just slightly. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced with his usual cool detachment as he blew the whistle to signal the end of the game.

The sound of cheers and laughter filled the air as your team huddled together, celebrating the win. Sohee slung an arm over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Still the MVP, huh?” he teased, ruffling your hair playfully. “I don’t know why I thought this would go any other way.”

“Because you’re overconfident,” Hana chimed in, nudging Yejin with her elbow. “And we’re, you know, actually good at this.”

You smirked. “Don’t beat yourself up, though. You guys put up a good fight.”

“Good fight, my ass,” Sohee grumbled, flopping onto the sand dramatically. “We got obliterated. I’m never playing against you guys again.”

“Come on, Sohee,” you replied, tossing him a grin as you helped him up. “It’s just for fun. You didn’t do that bad.”

“He missed three serves in a row,” Hana deadpanned, earning a loud groan from Sohee.

“Okay, no need to rub it in!” Sohee huffed, dusting the sand off his hands.

Anton approached the group, his whistle still dangling from around his neck. “You all done patting yourselves on the back?” he asked, his tone neutral but his eyes briefly meeting yours.

“What exactly are we winning? Do we get a prize?” Yejin asked, looking around.

Sungchan shrugged. “Bragging rights?” he said with evident uncertainty in his tone and expression.

Your team groaned, unsatisfied. Sungchan stammered. “Hey, we didn’t decide on a prize when we talked about this game.”

Sohee raised a hand. “Okay, guys, since I’m basically responsible for our loss, ice cream’s on me for the winners. Losers can fend for themselves.”

“Wow, so generous,” Sungchan deadpanned, but he followed anyway, dragging his team along.

“It’s okay, dude,” Yejin said, clapping him on the back. “You’re rewarded enough. It’s not every day you get to play with an MVP.”

“You mean lose to an MVP,” Sungchan corrected, nodding toward you. “You’re a beast out there, seriously. Respect.”

“Respectfully defeated, you mean?” Hana teased, crossing her arms.

Sungchan shrugged, unfazed. “I’m not bitter. I’d rather lose to a skilled player than Sohee.”

“Okay, man. Low blow,” Sohee sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Sungchan flashed you a knowing grin before his gaze flickered toward Anton. “Guess you’re proud of her too, huh, ref?”

Anton’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he only shrugged. “She’s decent.”

“Decent?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes at him. “Pretty sure I just carried my team to victory.”

“I’d rather not inflate your ego,” he retorted, smirking.

As the group headed toward the snack stand, you lingered for a moment, brushing sand off your legs. Anton hung back too, his gaze lingering on the horizon before he glanced at you.

“Decent, huh?” you said, crossing your arms as you turned to him.

His lips twitched. “You heard me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You could just admit you’re impressed.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied, turning toward the snack stand without waiting for a response.

Shaking your head, you followed, the playful energy from the game lingering in the air.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group gathered around a bonfire on the beach. Drinks were passed around, the conversation flowing easily. More people arrived as the evening deepened, including some of Anton’s posh friends. They blended effortlessly into the group, their polished smiles and designer outfits standing out against the casual beachwear.

At some point, Sohee handed Anton a guitar with a knowing smirk. “Would you play something for us?”

Anton chuckled, adjusting the strap before strumming a few chords. The group around the fire cheered, and soon everyone was singing along, their voices blending beautifully with the melody Anton was playing.

You leaned back against the driftwood bench, watching him as his fingers glided over the strings with ease. There was something captivating about how relaxed he seemed—more confident, more self-assured. The shy boy you’d grown up with had always seemed happiest when he was off to the side, letting others take the spotlight. Now, he was in the center of it, getting attention without even trying.

In hindsight, this should’ve made you happy. Seeing him like this—more mature, more comfortable in his own skin—should’ve felt like a victory for the both of you. But you didn’t have time to process this because the joy of his transformation had been buried under your indignation, your frustration at being treated like a stranger.

You sighed and turned your gaze to the fire, trying to push the thoughts away.

Later, as the party stretched into the night, Sungchan plopped down beside you with a drink in hand.

“Long face at a party?” he teased, nudging your arm lightly.

You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff like Anton?” he asked, raising a brow.

You gave him a side-eye, but his grin was disarming enough that you found yourself nodding. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he echoed, leaning closer like he was fishing for details. “Come on, you can tell me. I’m great at giving unsolicited advice.”

That earned a laugh out of you. “Why are you nosy?”

He shrugged. “This is the most interesting thing that happened here since summer break started. I’m a little too invested.”

“Fine,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Get ready.”

And so, you told him everything—how you and Anton had grown up together, spending every summer side by side, how he used to be this sweet, shy boy you adored. You told him about your silly teenage crush on him, how you’d skipped the last two summers, and how things were so different now that you were back. Sungchan listened intently, nodding along as you spoke.

“And then he kissed me,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “And now I’m… I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m falling for him again or if I’m just confusing old feelings for something they’re not.”

Sungchan leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a lot to unpack,” he said, then smirked. “But hey, you’ve got options. If it’s real, great. If it’s not, at least you’ll know. Either way, you win.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not exactly helpful.”

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe stop overthinking it. You’ll figure it out,” he replied. “But if you’re asking me? I think you’re not confusing old feelings. It’s just that the old feelings are stronger now that you’re older and wiser. Well, not so wise, but still wiser than when you were sixteen.”

Your laugh came out startled. “What makes you think so?”

“Just a hunch,” he said, winking.

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over the both of you. You looked up to see Anton standing there, his expression unreadable as he glanced between you and Sungchan.

“Time to go,” Anton said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, leaning back against the bench. “It’s still early.”

Anton huffed, unfazed. “I’d hate to ruin your night, but I’m tired, so let’s just go.”

You groaned, glancing at Sungchan, who gave you an exaggerated pout. “Guess this is goodbye,” he said dramatically.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you retorted, but you smiled as you stood. “Thanks for listening.”

He gave you a two-fingered salute as you turned to follow Anton.

As you walked up the beach, the sounds of the party fading behind you, you glanced at Anton. “Can’t you go home by yourself?”

“You think I’m dragging you along because I want to?” he asked back, glancing sideways at you. “Take it up to your two moms if you have a problem with it.”

You huffed. “I probably should. One can’t go home without the other? What are we, fifteen?”

Anton didn’t respond, but you caught the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he walked ahead.

The car ride was too quiet for your liking. Anton kept his grip tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, and you couldn’t ignore the hint of annoyance on his expression. 

You’d been stealing glances over at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes. The way he was acting—the sudden coldness after the bonfire, the way he pulled away emotionally—it was all too confusing and infuriating. 

“Anton, you’re angry,” you said, your voice low but steady. “What’s going on? Another mood swing?”

He finally looked at you, his eyes dark, the frustration in them almost raw. “Can you mind your own business?”

“I can if you stop making me feel like this was my business too.”

Anton let out a sharp exhale, and with a swift turn of the steering wheel, he pulled over to the side of the road, stepping on the brakes so abruptly, you were jolted forward, the seatbelt digging into your chest.

“What the hell—”

“What do you want me to say?” he cut you off, his voice rough.

“What do I want you to say?” you echoed, heart pounding as anger rose in your chest. “Are you serious? You’ve been treating me like a stranger since I got here. You’ve barely talked to me, and when you do, it’s like I’m the last person you want to be around. What do I want you to say?”

You scoffed incredulously. “I want you to tell me what I did so wrong to deserve this.”

Anton’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching so hard it was a wonder it didn’t crack. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter, but no less intense. “I missed you. So fucking much.”

For a second, his words knocked the wind out of you. But the anger came rushing back. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. You missed me, so you’re treating me like crap? What the hell, Anton?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pressing his hands to his face. “I don’t know, alright? I just—I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t talk to you. You were supposed to be here, and you weren’t. And now you’re back, and I’m—” He broke off, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration.

You blinked, caught off-guard by the vulnerability in his voice. You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn’t know what to say so you closed it again. At that moment, it was as if the only thing you could do was reach out your hand and place it on his arm, squeezing gently in hopes that it would somehow comfort him, that it would be enough to express what your words cannot.

His head turned toward you, and the look in his eyes made your breath hitch. His gaze flicked to your lips, and before you could process what was happening, his hand was on your arm, pulling you toward him. Then his lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrestrained, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. 

And you couldn’t pull away—not that you wanted to. Everything you had been holding back, everything you’d been pretending not to feel, was suddenly pouring out in that kiss.

He tugged you closer, his other hand sliding to your waist as the kiss deepened, raw and messy, with a kind of desperation that matched your own. You could feel his heavy breathing against your lips as his body tensed beneath you, and it only made you want to close the distance even more.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching a handful of his hair because you needed to hold on to something—anything—that was real.

Anton’s hands moved to your neck, his touch possessive, as if he was trying to assure himself that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You pulled away for a breath, your chest rising and falling quickly as you stared at each other, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Anton…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say it. Just—don’t say anything right now.” He kissed you again, one hand slipping under your shirt but you stopped him.

“No.” You pushed him away gently, your lips curving into a small smile. “Not here. Come on, dude. Not in the car. Let’s at least make this special.”

He leaned back, a short, dark laugh escaping him. “I just kissed you till you’re breathless, and you call me dude after?”

You laughed lightly, still breathless yourself. “Are you seriously gonna hold that against me instead of focusing on more pressing matters?” You glanced at the unmistakable bulge in his jeans.

Anton grunted, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifted the gear stick, suddenly looking more determined than ever as he stepped on the gas.

You couldn’t help grinning at the look on his face. You reached for his chin, pulling him close just enough to press a soft kiss on his cheek. As you sat back, Anton’s fingers brushed against yours, holding your hand with a light squeeze as the car sped down the highway.

The house was quiet when you and Anton arrived. It was past 1am, and the soft hum of the house was the only sound that filled the air as you both tiptoed down the dimly lit hallway. Your footsteps were almost inaudible on the hardwood floor, but your heart raced in your chest. When you passed by his parents’ room, you both paused for a moment, checking for any signs of movement, worried that someone might wake up and catch you sneaking.

When you reached the upper floor landing, Anton grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed the side of your neck as you walked down the hall. The thrill of the risk only heightened your need for each other, and you couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at your lips as his hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you against him for a second.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whispered, though the mischief in your voice gave  away the fact that you were enjoying this too.

He groaned impatiently. “Why is your bedroom so far away?”

“It’s not, you’re just dramatic,” you chided softly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips and slipping away when he moved to cage you in his arms.

The need for each other was overwhelming, but you couldn’t risk waking anyone up, couldn’t let anyone see this side of you two yet.

When you finally reached your bedroom door, you turned to face Anton, curling your fingers in his shirt. “Don’t you dare go in there without me,” you said, pulling him toward you for another kiss, the same fervent kiss he’d been giving you all night.

As you both stumbled into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, everything else disappeared—the house, the people, the secrets. The room was quiet except for the sound of your uneven breaths. He was so close, his familiar face somehow different now, his eyes tracing yours like he was seeing you for the first time.

“This is insane,” you whispered, a shaky laugh slipping out as you broke eye contact. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“Oh, it’s totally up to you,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “But right now, I can’t stop thinking about you… like this,” he added, his fingers brushing on the sleeves of your shirt, tugging it off slowly.

You let him undress you as your stomach fluttered at his confession. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. It started soft, tentative, like you were afraid to push too far. But then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in, and suddenly it wasn’t soft anymore.

The kiss deepened, years of restraint unraveling all at once. He laid you back against the bed, his weight hovering over you. As his lips trailed down your neck with slow and careful kisses, your mind began to spiral with a sensation that was both new and unfamiliar.

When he got rid of your bra and revealed your bosoms before his eyes, he had to take a moment and look at you—really look at you, with a face of disbelief and amazement. That gaze made you shy, but you tried not to show it, hoping he liked what he was seeing. 

“This feels… a bit different,” he murmured, meeting your gaze. His voice trembled slightly, and it struck you that he was just as nervous as you were.

“Because it is,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “But it’s still us.”

That seemed to settle something in him. He leaned down to kiss you again, only for a short while before abandoning your lips and moving to your neck. He licked and nipped at your skin, leaving a slight sting that sent shivers down your spine—a delightful balance of pain and pleasure. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, the center of your chest, and the soft hollow beneath your breast before moving to suck on your nipple.

The sudden jolt of pleasure made you arch your back, stifling a gasp that almost tore out of your lungs. Anton continued, eyes locked with yours, studying every expression you were making.

His hands grew bolder, fingertips traveling to your belly, down to your sex with curiosity and reverence. His motions were gentle at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But with each soft gasp or subtle shift of your body, his confidence grew. When his thumb brushed a spot that made you shiver, he paused, repeating the motion with a soft hum, like he’d just unlocked a secret meant only for him.

He already knew you so well—the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, the way your laugh sounded when you tried to muffle it, and the things that made you fold into yourself when you were upset. But this—this part of you—was new, uncharted territory neither of you had thought you’d ever explore.

“Didn’t know you could make that face,” he teased, tickling your ear.

A quiet laugh slipped out of you when his hand fumbled at an awkward angle. “You lost it,” you giggled and he let out a soft chuckle in return.

“Sorry. Where did it go?” he asked, grinning toothily. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

You shook your head, still grinning, and cupped his jaw in your hand. “You’re doing fine.”

The laughter didn’t last long. It faded into urgency when you reached between his legs where his manhood was trapped in his tight jeans. Anton let out a pained grunt when your hand brushed it, murmuring “Fuck,” before backing away from you and stripping out of his clothes in a matter of seconds.

He dived back to your lips, crashing with intense fervor while his hand spread your legs wider. He held you tight as he positioned himself, shushing you gently as he slowly fitted himself inside. Every fiber in your body stood in attention, anticipating the delightful pain to shoot through you. And when it came, it was infinitely better than what you imagined.

Instinct took over as you clung to him, your pulse racing as he began to move at a languid pace, familiarizing before going at a steadier pace. The sheets twisted under your fingers, the soft rasp of his name escaping your lips as he pressed harder.

Every thrust ignited something inside you, every whispered murmur of your name leaving you more breathless than the last. You could no longer keep track of what was happening, too far gone to think clearly, but conscious enough to know you wanted more—more of him, more of this pleasure that was driving you insane in the best way possible.

After who knows how long, a throaty moan ripped out of you, your back arching as you let the high engulf you in waves. Anton kept his thrusts steady, riding through your high until your knees shook with too much stimulation. Then you fell back on the bed, limbs weak and your energy depleted.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, your pulse still racing as he held you in his arms. In the atmosphere was a quiet kind of understanding that didn’t need words. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, slowly pulling you out of the haze of desire.

You shifted slightly, looking up to find him already watching you. He was smiling, a little shy but undeniably happy. His hand slid up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before letting his fingers linger on your jaw. 

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smiled. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The next morning, you woke up with Anton’s arm still wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you nicely. The sunlight poured into the room and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Your body was still tingling from the night before, but you were content and happy.

Anton stirred beside you, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist. He buried his face in your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You awake?” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly along your jaw.

You smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

He nodded, exhaling deeply as he stretched, the movement shifting you slightly before he pulled you close again. “Figured you’d say that,” he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But then his expression softened. “I know I’ve got a lot to answer for.”

The night had brought you closer, but it had also left things unanswered, things that neither of you could avoid any longer.

You stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I was an idiot,” he began, his tone quieter now. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you came back. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You blinked at him, watching his face and saw the faint flicker of guilt and uncertainty in his eyes. This was a side of Anton you hadn’t seen in a while—the one who let his guard down, even if only for a moment.

“I thought I’d lost you for good,” he continued, his voice steady but low. “You didn’t come for two summers. No calls, no texts—it felt like you disappeared, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

You frowned. “No one told you I was away for uni?” you asked sarcastically.

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I knew. But…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the last two years. Different time zones, schedules, and all. You were out there, living your life. I see your posts online. You were killing it in school, making new friends, living your life. Hell, you even had a boyfriend at one point.” He chuckled bitterly, the sound more self-deprecating than amused. Then he continued. “I guess I got insecure and thought you were content living a life without me in it.”

“Come on. That’s not true,” you defended, scowling.

“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “I know that now. But back then, it just... I don’t know how else to say it—it messed me up. Like I said, I was insecure.”

“So I decided to live my life too, and it was good. I learned lots of new things, met lots of people, and discovered interests in fields I didn’t know I had interest in. It was great.” He paused, swallowing hard, then muttered, “Then mom said you were coming for summer this year and suddenly, I was thinking about you again. I realized that I wasn’t mad because I felt abandoned and forgotten. I was just… in love with you.”

You gasped softly, pulse racing at his confession. Anton smiled at you as he continued. “I didn’t know how to deal with that and I knew you’d leave eventually, so I thought if I acted like you were a stranger, it’d hurt less when you’re gone. Obviously it didn’t. It just made everything worse.”

You could feel the sincerity of his words, the honesty finally breaking through the wall he’d built.

“You didn’t have to go through all that,” you said gently, your hand cupping his cheek. “I never forgot about you, Anton. I could never, even if I try. You and me, we’re like, stuck with each other.”

A faint smile broke through his solemn expression. “You make it sound like a punishment.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I mean, for me, it kind of is.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprised. “For real?”

“No,” you replied quickly, grinning and wrapping your arm tighter around him.

Anton chuckled. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, your voice gentle and light.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you filled with the soft hum of the morning. Then Anton sighed. “I don’t want to screw this up,” he said. “Not with you. Not again.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “I’ll kill you if you do.”

Anton’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. I love living my life, you see.”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. There was no need for more words right now. You were finally on the same page, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

No one knew, and that was the beauty of it.

To the outside world, nothing had changed. You and Anton had always been close, always spent summers attached at the hip, so when you were together—laughing over shared inside jokes or disappearing for hours at a time—it wasn’t out of the ordinary. No one thought to question it. But for the two of you, everything was different.

You snuck out late at night, barefoot and giddy, to watch the stars from the beach. Anton would bring a blanket and a bottle of his dad’s wine he swiped from the kitchen, and the two of you would lie there for hours, trading stories and stolen kisses. Sometimes, you’d just sit in comfortable silence, your fingers intertwined, his lips occasionally pressing against your temple.

In the mornings, you’d meet for coffee at the little café down the street, pretending it was a casual thing when your families asked. But as soon as you were alone, Anton would squeeze himself beside you, smiling as he held your hand in his. 

“Think they’re catching on?” he’d tease, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“No idea,” you’d reply, grinning. “We’d probably get married and they’d think it’s just us being silly.”

Anton gasped, covering his mouth. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Oh my god. Can you go back to being nonchalant? I don’t miss your old dramatic self.”

“Aw,” he said cutely, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Come on, baby. You don’t mean that.”

You revisited the places you’d loved as kids, seeing them through new eyes. The old treehouse near the playground became your hideout, where you’d sit together, legs tangled as you reminisced about summers past. 

“You used to boss me around so much here,” Anton would say, laughing when you nudged him. “Still do, actually.”

“You love it,” you’d shoot back, and he’d smirk before kissing you, his hand slipping beneath your shirt in a way that made you forget whatever you were about to say next.

There were days when you explored each other in ways that left you breathless—your skin tingling, your heart racing. Anton was patient and attentive, his touch both gentle and electrifying. He’d study you like he was learning a language, his lips tracing paths across your body as if trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You discovered parts of him, too—little things he liked, the way he shivered when you kissed just below his jaw, the way he whispered your name like a prayer whenever you gave him the ride of his life.

You got to know him in ways you never had before, and it made you fall harder. Behind his teasing and occasional grumpiness, there was a gentle boy, a vulnerability that he only ever let you see. And you held it close, cherishing every piece of him.

Together, you built a world of your own—one filled with secret smiles, lingering touches, and endless laughter. No one else was privy to it, and you liked it that way. The privacy made it feel more sacred, more yours.

You were looking for some cards in the drawers in Anton’s room when you spotted something familiar. Pulling it out, you found an old photo tucked between the pages of a dusty book. It was from one of those endless summers, taken when you and Anton were maybe sixteen. The two of you were sitting side by side on the wooden dock, feet dipped into the water. His grin was wide, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders, and your expression was somewhere between laughing and rolling your eyes.

“Hey, Anton,” you called out, walking into the living room where he was sprawled out on the couch. He glanced up lazily, but his eyes immediately sharpened when he saw what you were holding.

“Where’d you find that?” he asked, reaching for it.

“In your room. You didn’t think I’d find it tucked safely in your old guitar book?” you teased, holding the photo out of his reach.

He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Man, I looked so good back then.”

You snorted, flopping down beside him. “You’re ridiculous. You look the same, just taller and with more expensive haircuts.”

He raised a brow at you. “And you?”

You grinned. “I peaked at sixteen. Obviously.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You were annoying at sixteen.”

“Funny you say that,” you said, leaning back into the couch, the photo still clutched in your hand. “Because I had a crush on you back then.”

The confession rolled off your tongue casually, but the way Anton’s head snapped toward you was anything but casual.

“You what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “No big deal. It didn’t even last long.”

Anton stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he crossed his arms and pouted, sulking like a child.

“That’s unfair,” he muttered.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What’s unfair?”

“That you stopped liking me,” he said, scowling. “Because I was in love with you around that time.”

Your mouth fell open. “No, you’re not.”

He grumbled something under his breath and refused to meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears were red.

“No, you’re not,” you repeated, half-laughing, half-shocked. You grabbed his arm and shook him playfully. “Come on, be serious. You’re lying, aren’t you?”

Anton just tutted and gave you a side-eye. Her mom walked in at that moment, struggling to hook her necklace.

“Sweetheart, come help me with this,” she asked, handing the jewelry to you. You quickly rose to help her. As you did, she narrowed her eyes at Anton and said, “Now, what’s going on? Are you guys fighting again?”

“Anton’s a liar,” you teased, glancing briefly at him. “He said he had a crush on me when we were sixteen.”

“Really?” Aunt Hyejin asked, tilting her head a little. She looked at you just as you finished locking her necklace. “You’re only finding out about it now?”

“Mom!” Anton interjected, standing up and dragging Aunt Hyejin away.

“What? I thought she knew the whole time,” Aunt Hyejin said, laughing as they disappeared into a corner.

You stood there dumbfounded and confused, though your heart was fluttering so much it made your cheeks burn.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in front of a mirror. “Can you believe it?” you scoffed, turning toward Anton, who was buttoning up his shirt. “Me, going to Belle’s cocktail party?”

Anton, leaning against the doorframe as he adjusted his cufflinks. “If you hate it that much, we can just ditch.”

You rolled your eyes, smoothing out your skirt. “No. I’d love to see how you ended up being friends with those stuck-ups.” You paused, catching Anton’s gaze in the mirror. “Sorry, I forgot they’re your friends now.”

He smirked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Well, they’re still stuck-ups. But they’re chill when you get to know them.”

You snorted. “We’ll see about that.”

Surprisingly, you did see. The cocktail party was better than you’d expected. The rich kids, despite their reputation, were easygoing and friendly once you got past their posh exteriors. Anton, fit right in as a rich kid himself, but his attention was never far from you.

At some point, someone mentioned Anton’s ‘first love’, and your ears perked up.

“He told us about her once, when he was drunk,” Belle said with a grin, sipping her drink. “ We’ve never seen Anton act and speak so cutely.”

You raised a brow, curious but playing it cool. “Really?”

Belle nodded, leaning in conspiratorially. “Yeah. Apparently, she used to tease him so much he wanted to strangle her half the time, but he also couldn’t imagine life without her.”

One guy added, “He even said she had this little laugh, you know, like a giggle that always got him. Man was a goner.”

“Yeah. He said she was his everything, but he was too scared to tell her. Isn’t that cute?”

Your heart skipped a beat as Anton avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Later, as you walked down the beach with Anton, your high heels dangling from one hand and your other hand holding onto his arm, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The waves lapped at your feet, cool and soothing, as you glanced up at him.

“So,” you began, grinning, “I’m your everything, huh?”

Anton groaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t start.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “You’re so cute.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, but his hand tightened around yours.

You leaned against his chest, enjoying his warmth in the cool summer night.

“You were right,” you admitted, glancing up at him. “Your new friends aren’t so bad.”

“Told you,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get cocky. I still think it’s hilarious you used to hate them and now you’re all buddy-buddy.”

Anton gave you a dry look. “Of course you do. I sometimes can’t believe it myself.”

You grinned mischievously. “Anton Lee, a social butterfly. Who would’ve thought?”

He chuckled softly. “Not me.”

The moonlight reflected off the water as you walked in comfortable silence, stealing kisses here and there. Your fingers were laced together, his thumb occasionally brushing against yours.

You glanced at him, the soft glow of the moonlight highlighting his features. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy you’d grown up with, the one who used to argue with you over who got the last piece of pizza or who could jump farther off the dock.

Being with him now, like this, felt surreal. But it also felt right.

“I still think you’re a loser, though,” you teased. Anton narrowed his eyes, and you saw the flicker of mischief in them a second too late.

“Take it back,” he said, his tone warning.

“Or what?” you taunted, stepping backward, a playful grin on your face.

He didn’t reply, already kicking off his shoes and rolling up his pants.

You shrieked, spinning around to run, the cool sand shifting under your bare feet. Anton’s laugh echoed behind you as he chased you down, his longer strides closing the distance easily.

“No!” you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep running.

It wasn’t long before he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifted you off the ground. He spun you around, your laughter and shrieks echoing in the air.

Romantic relationships between childhood friends weren’t without their risks. You knew that. There was always the fear of ruining what had been there for so long, of losing not just a lover but a best friend. But as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, you realized you weren’t afraid.

Because no matter where life took you, as long as you were with Anton, you’d figure it out together.

[fin]

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?

An example: The confession

Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...

thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!

Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.

The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.

Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.

‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.

‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.

‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.

‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’

‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.

‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.

Dan heng

While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.

‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.

Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.

He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.

Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.

Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.

He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.

He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.

The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.

He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.

Gallagher

‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘But-‘ you started.

‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.

Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.

Aventurine

He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.

You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.

He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.

He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.

‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.

However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.

‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.

‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’

You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’

Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’

[kamospeach]

fuck it guess we both ain't shit .ᐟ

plot: bodyguard!toji just can't help but show his charge what she's missing

content warning: cheating on both ends, age gap(21 & 32), second hand embarrassment, pwp, fingering, cunnilingus, mating press, doggystyle, oral f! & m!recieving, cum eating, p in v sex, quickie

peachy's yap: wc 2.6k.ᐟ cringed writing this :P without cringe how else would i get him to blow her back out? i don't believe in cheating, pls remember everything is FICTIONAL before y'all jump me.

“i do not need a bodyguard!” you yell at your father who rubs his temples getting fed up with your antics. you’ve been against the bodyguard idea and have had the bodyguard for two weeks already. speaking of said bodyguard he stood there shoulders slumped listening to you argue this. you did this every day‘ it’s getting old…’ toji thought to himself.

toji watched your every move as you paced back and forth in your father's office. your short pink pleated shirt that left little or maybe even nothing to the imagination. it showed the bottom of your ass and the tattoo of the 'Brat' logo under your left ass cheek. your extremely tight crop top that showed an unnecessary amount of cleavage. your hair past your hips almost mid-thigh.

to toji you looked fuckin' hot but that was because he was a womanizer. any woman dressed in a small amount of clothing was his type.

he knew his job was to protect but he had an inkling his father wasn't really the best at hiring people. toji came to the interview dressed in ragged clothing a black shirt with a half circle cut out the left side. his sweatpants had small stains of blood that your father somehow didn't see. if anyone else had seen toji they would have immediately raised red flags faster than you can blink.

but your puny, oblivious, money-hungry, self-centered, (toji's words), and questionably caring father didn't notice. hired toji the same day and bought him a suit until his custom-tailored ones could be ordered. took him to your penthouse gave him the code to your door and dropped him off downstairs. he huffed that day realizing 'great father' would never be one of your dad's many attributes. yet who was he to judge?

“IT’S TOO FUCKIN LATE Y/N HE’S IN A TWO-YEAR CONTRACT.” your father yelled at you, you frowned turning around. you walked away snapping your fingers twice signaling toji to follow you. toji didn’t like you either the feeling was insanely mutual.

“take me to my boyfriend’s house,” you instructed toji who had no choice but to obey you. he started the car taking you to your boyfriend’s house. knowing the way there since you went there every day. and as always toji was required to follow you in the house.

it was a little different this time, you barked orders at your boyfriend. yelling at him telling him ‘get toji a drink’ and your boyfriend nods running off. he handed toji a bottle of water and you snap your fingers at your boyfriend. giving him a sharp glare ordering ‘take me upstairs’. to which he obliged picking you up.

toji sat downstairs on his phone telling his wife he’d probably be home late. toji wish he could quit after he met you and got to know you personally. and this? was the worst part of the day, when you’d go to your boyfriend’s house. while your boyfriend fucked you and you let out fake moans and your boyfriend yelled out in pleasure.

he honestly felt bad for you, not only were you an annoying spoiled brat. but you couldn’t get fucked properly by your shitty ass suck-up boyfriend. you were a naturally dominant woman and you wouldn’t get any pleasure if you weren't with a man who was as dominant as you.

you walked down the stairs rolling your eyes as your boyfriend begged you to stay. you being your bratty self waved him off and snapped for toji to follow you. he was getting fed up with the demands and was sure he was gonna tell you off soon.

he drove you to your house parking the company's car and getting out. he opened the door for you allowing you to leave. as always toji followed you to the door of your penthouse making sure you got in safely.

"leave me!" you yelled at toji and that was his last straw.

"i'm getting real tired of your shit. your a fucking spoiled brat, if this is gonna work you need to learn real manners. you dont yell at me and snap your fingers just 'cause your daddy's money is going into my pocket," he yelled at you. you were taken aback. no way was he yelling at you. you owned him. "

"just like you said my dad is paying you. which means if i say you're fired you'll be fired," you said and he raised a brow at your dumb assumption.

"your name is nowhere on the contract... you hold no power over me. we're both equals you work for your dad and so do i. we're practically co-workers darlin' nothing more nothing less." he said with a smug smirk. your nostrils were flaring in anger and your fist clenched by your side. your brain scrambling for a comeback to say to this ignorant man.

"well yea... i'll get my boyfriend to beat you up!" you yell voice shaky and toji chuckles darkly. he walked towards you, you were shivering under his intense glare.

"your weak ass boyfriend can't even make you cum and you think he'll beat me up?" he laughed and your face dropped.

"h...how did you know i wasn't finishing?" you ask swallowing a big lump in your throat. it was getting intense and toji had backed you into a corner. figuratively and literally. your back was pressed against the island and his hands trapped you.

"i've sat downstairs listening to your fake moans and his weak thrusts for 2 weeks now." toji smirked as you looked away from you. "plus i know what it sounds like when a woman's actually cumming."

the silence was loud and your breathing was erratic. toji looked back at your microwave checking the time. his brain was fighting his heart to go along with what he was thinking he'd do. while toji was deciding what he wanted to do, you knew what you wanted. when toji turned his face back to you you smashed your lips on his.

you pulled back remembering not only was he 11 years older than you, he was a married man. you both looked at each other in shock you held your breath hoping he wouldn't snitch to your father. but before you knew it toji's lips were back on yours, he picked you up placing you on the counter. his fingers ran across your thighs as your hands rubbed up and down his toned back.

it was wrong you knew it but did you care? hell no. his wife was a bitch anyway, you knew she was just a backup for his first dead wife. even if you did hear it unethically from snooping in on your father's childlike gossip. he didn't really like his wife so this technically isn't wrong. just as you finally let go of all thoughts it was toji's turn to pull away.

"this is wrong... i'm married, you have a boyfriend-" you cut him off not wanting to hear the excuses.

"you don't like your wife and my boyfriend can't make me cum. i think we have good reason for what we're doing this," you say and toji's eyebrows furrowed.

"those aren't good reasons..." he mumbled ignoring his thoughts and grabbed your chin roughly pulling you to him. he kissed you roughly your teeth clashing. the roughness of his fingernails digging in your skin knowing when he removed his hand there would be prominent crescent indents on your jaw.

he was so rough and it wasn't how you were used to. usually, you initiated everything with your boyfriends. it seemed as if toji was in a rush to get it over with and he needed you as soon as possible. he played with your thong under your tiny skirt.

his fingers slipped under the band of your thong pulling on it and letting it snap against your skin. "get down and go to your room." he tells you backing away and you furrow your brows.

"you can't carry me up there?" and he laughs walking away from you and heading to your room. this was shocking for you it felt like you went from one extreme to the next. first, you were with a submissive nice man and here you are with a dominant asshole. you swallowed your spit as you walked into your room seeing toji standing there naked.

you knew toji would be big but not that big. he was bigger than any guy you've ever slept with. you walked over to toji while stripping out of your clothes. you were down to your bra and skirt when toji grabbed your waist pulling you closer. he unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor and tossed you on the bed.

you propped yourself on your arms and toji leaned over you pressing his lips on yours. your hands were anxiously touching him everywhere nervously. you felt like a virgin not sure where to put your hands or what to do. without any warning, toji pulled down your skirt and thong all in one pull. he kissed down your neck and pulled away glancing at his watch.

"we got 20 minutes," he said going back to kissing your neck sucking and nipping at the spot that made you moan.

"un...until what?" you asked and he laughed.

"until i have to leave. my wife's expecting me," he mumbled and you frowned.

"don't mention her while you're with me from now on," you tell him and he smirks.

"as you wish doll," he agreed not wanting to talk about his wife anyway. although it was wrong you both felt so right being here with each other. for you, toji was everything you needed rough and in control. for toji... well, you just gave it up and he wasn't one to turn down pussy he didn't have to pay for.

he kissed down your chest teasing you purposely missing your nipples. until you whined out and told him to stop teasing. he played with your clit rubbing and collecting your juices on his finger. pulling away from your nipples placing two fingers in your mouth. you grabbed his wrist as you tasted yourself on his digits.

after your spit was running down his fingers he removed it from your mouth. he pushed them in your entrance feeling how tight your needy cunt is. he scissored his fingers attempting to stretch you out. toji didn't talk much and initially, he wasn't in the mood for intimate foreplay. but now he did want to taste you since you were so wet.

he continued kissing down your body and one last time on the mound of your privates. he wasted no time sucking on your clit while vigorously fingering you.

"toji wait." you moaned out the feeling was becoming too much for you. you had never been eaten out before and this was new for you. the stimulation of your clit and his fingers massaging your rough g-spot had you gasping for air. your hands reached for his black hair pulling harshly. he groaned against you making you squeal in pleasure.

his tongue moved expertly against your clit taking his fingers out of you. you whined missing his fingers inside you and he leaned over you. he looked down at you with a bored expression but your clouded mind read it as admiration.

"ya ready?" he asked and you melted at the concern in his voice that you were definitely making up. you nodded lost in thought as toji wasted no time pushing into your entrance. your body arched at the feeling of him stretching you out.

he didn't wait for you to adjust to his size and started stroking immediately. you were moaning at the feeling already pushing on his stomach.

"take some out." you moaned head thrown back and toji just laughed at your pleas.

"it's only halfway in doll," he whispered in your ear pushing himself all the way in now. you tried to run from him but he gripped your waist holding you in place. you couldn't believe that it was only part way initially. yet you could definitely tell the difference now. his cockhead was kissing your cervix as he roughly pounded into you. you reached up to grab his face pulling it down to you and kissing him messily.

his hips didn't slow or stutter as he pounded into you mercilessly. he was fucking like he needed to leave right away, you could've sworn you both had another 15 minutes. he grabbed your legs pushing them against your chest putting you in a mating press.

"did he fuck you like this?" he grunted looking down at your tight cunt that sucked him in like a vice. you were squelching and your cream was painting his dick white. the view pushing toji closer and closer to his release.

"mm mm..." you hummed but it came out more of a moan. toji wasn't satisfied with this answer. he wanted to hear you say that he was the best you ever had.

"use your words ma. did he fuck you like this?" he repeated himself thrusting into you with a particularly pointed thrust as you were about to talk.

"nooo!" you squeaked and he pulled out smiling at the mess of cream on your folds. he flipped you over perfecting your arch and sliding into you again.

"fuck you're so tight," he groaned pushing himself into you. he gripped both of your ass cheeks roughly nails digging into the fatty flesh. once he calmed himself so he wouldn't nut too early he begin to fuck you again. this time making it a point to push his tip into your g-spot.

"toji m'close," you mumbled as your face was pressed into the pillow. before you knew it you felt pressure on the side of your face. your eyes opened seeing toes in your face.

you were in utter shock toji had his foot on your head thrusting into you relentlessly. the new found angle only pushing you closer and closer to release. you reached under yourself playing with your clit. you clenched around his dick making his thrust slow down at the grip.

"relax doll m'right behind you, just hold it for me," he grumbled still thrusting into you letting out small moans and guttural groans. he pulled out jerking himself off flipping you over and rubbing your clit quickly.

"fuck toji!" you yelled as your body convulsed and jerked as your squirt soaked him and the bed. he slapped your clit causing your body to lightly flinch from the feeling on your clit.

he crawled over you hover over your chest stroking his cock over your face. his dick twitched in his hand and his hips bucked into his hand. you leaned up wrapping your lips around his tip and swirling your tongue until you felt him release his hot cum down your throat.

"fuck yea ma that's it." he hummed as you took him down your throat and pulled off him with a pop. you swallowed his cum open your mouth sticking out your tongue.

"ah." you showed toji that you swallowed it all and he smirked softly smacking your cheek.

"good girl." he smiled looking at the watch on his wrist. "5 minutes to spare," he hummed to himself getting off of you. he didn't bother cleaning you up, he simply slipped on his boxers, then his suit.

"uh," you say not really sure what to say to be honest. he looked up at you where he sat on the end of your bed putting on his shoes.

"see you tomorrow," he said grabbing his phone and keys from your nightstand. without waiting to hear it back from you he jogged down your steps and to your front door. he left out locking the door with the code. you sat on your bed looking down at your hands with a smile.

"so that means we're together? right?" you thought to yourself out loud.

sure girl... sure.

[beomcoups]

here's to forever (the athlete)

summary: today is the day you finally marry your best friend

genre: fluff, suggestive, 18+ warnings: mentions of sex (hoshi wants to pump some babies into you), mentions of pregnancy words: 0.9k AN: Thank you, @horanghater, for looking over this for me. Every year on the anniversary of the OG fic, I always end up writing another part about their lives since they met. I'm becoming a real yearner. Anyhoo, I decided to go ahead and make a series master list because I am sure more will come, lol. -series masterlist

“I love you.” You rub Soonyoung’s hand with your thumb as he holds back tears, standing before the officiant, his football coach. You just married the love of your life and best friend in front of your family and friends on a large farm in the country. You exchanged heartfelt vows in front of one hundred people on the estate, with the birds singing in the sky and the geese swimming happily in the lake. So far, this day has been nothing short of magical, with those six little words sealing the deal. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Soonyoung pulls the veil over your face and kisses you with a fervent need that sets your nerves on fire. Everyone and everything disappears for a second, but it doesn’t matter; you got your dream guy. Your fingers intertwine with his as you finally break apart, met by the thunderous applause of your guests who watched you become one with your now husband, their approval and joy palpable in the atmosphere. Soonyoung waves your hands triumphantly in the air as you walk down the aisle, flashing your wedding rings with pride for everyone to see. You haven’t seen him this proud since he won his first Super Bowl. Two and a half years later, with two more championship rings added to his collection, his eyes have never shined brighter. Soonyoung leads you away from your guests, taking you down a short path to the lake's edge. When you looked at venues, you found this place while looking through Pinterest, falling in love with the green pastures of the farm and the shining crystal-like waters. Soonyoung didn’t care where you married as long as you were his wife by the end of it. But when you took a trip out here and looked at the place in person, you both knew this was where it was meant to be. With the sun shining through the ivory clouds, it was almost as if your dads were looking down and giving their blessing.  

“We did it, babe,” you revel at the scene. “It’s you and me officially.” 

“Darlin’, you and I were official from the day we met. You just didn’t know it yet.” 

You chuckle and lean into him because, honestly, he is right. You were interested in him the first time you met; you were in denial then. You always swore you wouldn’t be one of those journalists who mixes business with pleasure, yet here you are, marrying the said pleasure. Life works out funny that way. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you close. “I can’t wait to get out of here and pump some babies into you.”

“Same here, baby,” you kiss his lips. “We might be a little late on the baby part, though.”

Soonyoung looks at you curiously as you reach into the secret pocket of your wedding dress. You had it sown in secret when it was tailored initially to keep your lipstick in if you needed to freshen up or had anything else in mind. But a couple of weeks ago, when you went for your routine check-up, you found out you were ten weeks pregnant. You and Soonyoung talked about kids, and you both want them; this will be earlier than you both planned. It explained why you felt lethargic lately and the smell of anything nauseated you. You weren’t sure how to tell him, so you carried it around just in case the opportunity arose. Now is the time. 

Holding up the ultrasound, you hand him the black-and-white photo of the baby growing inside of you. He studies the picture, then looks at you and your stomach, the dots connecting in his brain. You nod, confirming what he is thinking: you will be having his first child. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod as you wipe his tears away. 

He kisses you again, this time sweeter, more tenderer, and full of emotion that he can’t convey in words. You naturally melt into him, feeling safe and secure that the future you two have will be bright. Soonyoung has always said he loved you more than anything, but that’s not true. You love him more. He made you believe in love again, protected you when you needed it, and showed up when you needed him the most. You never felt scared to share your thoughts with him, and even if he didn’t understand, he listened and tried anyway. He never tried to take your spotlight. He respected you and made sure others did, too. Soonyoung brings an array of colors to your mundane world that you hope never goes away. God, you love him so much that it hurts.  

“Well, it makes sense why you weren’t drinking the champagne last night,” he muses. “You love champagne.”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, taking in the moment as you watch two geese embrace one another. If someone had told you over three years ago that you would be marrying thee Kwon Soonyoung and having his child, you would have laughed in their face. But clearly, the universe has a sense of humor. 

“I want to keep this between us,” you say suddenly. “It’s our first child, and I want to hold on to this a little bit longer before family, friends, and the media get a hold of it. You already know how it goes.”

“Of course, baby,” he readily agrees. “Whatever you want.”

He kisses your forehead, leading you back to the photographers so you can start taking pictures. Your makeup artist brushes up your makeup, and unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung gazes at you from afar, watching you with so much pride and love in his heart. The sun shines brighter as if it’s reflecting the future you will have with each other. 

Here is to forever.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hello!!!

Can I put in a writing request??

Because I love your writing!!! 🥹

Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it

Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)

omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!

warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL

also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd

Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.

Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.

You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.

You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.

Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.

‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.

You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.

Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.

However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.

“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.

You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.

“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.

His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck

“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”

Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.

“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.

You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.

Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.

His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.

“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.

Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.

With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.

“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.

Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.

You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.

Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.

You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.

Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.

Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.

Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.

“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”

[daycourtofficial]

It’s so quiet in the world tonight

Lucien x reader

Summary: you and Lucien having a quiet night at home, soaking in the peace, discussing how things will change when your baby arrives

Author’s note: kicking off my 1k celebration with my boy Lulu!!!

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“I’m just excited to see a babe growing up around here,” Helion said, looking at your belly. Your father in law harbored a lot of regret about not being around for Lucien as a babe and not knowing that he was his until a few decades ago.

It took a long time, but they have a lovely bond and get along extremely well. Granted, neither of them had a hard time getting along with most.

Except Beron.

You smile at your father in law, excited to see him take on the role of grandfather.

“Except the name ‘grandfather’ will make me feel so ancient. Is there any other name I could use?”

He had been going back and forth ever since you told him the news. If anyone could make your pregnancy about themselves, it was Helion. You didn’t mind, though. It was much better than nursemaids and various citizens who insisted on asking how you were at all hours of the day.

It was kind of them, and you didn’t resent them that much, but sometimes you felt more like a traveling carnival attraction carrying the next heir of Day instead of a mother carrying her babe.

You couldn’t blame them - it was exciting. They didn’t get to cherish Lucien as he grew up, and so now they were taking the time to let you know how adored the two of you were amongst the citizens of Day.

Lucien was so loved in Day, and he had no issues making his interest in you known. In fact, one of his first acts as a member of Day’s royal court was courting you.

It made you incredibly glad you had declined Helion’s many previous offers to warm his bed.

A little over a decade into your marriage, the two of you decided to forego your fertility tonic, leaving things up to the Mother to decide. Six years later, you found yourself with a swollen belly, an excited husband, and two antsy high lords.

Eris’s frequent visits to his mother and brother made him the first person you had confided in about your pregnancy. It had been an accident, really. You had only figured it out a few hours earlier, and he happened to be the first person you saw.

It just came tumbling out of your mouth.

Eris had actually been extraordinarily kind following your outburst, after his initial taunt of “is this how you greet people now, sister?”

Lucien found you crying on Eris’s shoulder a few hours later, his brother’s well-tailored jacket tracked with your makeup. If Eris noticed, he didn’t let on.

“I didn’t know your first act as High Lord was to make my wife cry,” Lucien said, striding towards the two of you huddled on a couch.

Eris waves his hand in the air, “I managed to sign two treaties and lift an embargo before I came here to antagonize your wife. She wasn’t first on my list, brother.”

Lucien sits on the other side of you, placing his hand gently on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Was Eris’s company so troublesome it reduced you to tears?”

You crack a smile as Eris lifts your head off of his shoulder, delicately placing it on Lucien’s shoulder.

“How you wound me, Lu. I’ll be sending you the bill to have my jacket cleaned.”

Lucien’s surprise at Eris’s departure doesn’t last long, as he looks back to you, your tears having stalled for a moment.

“I- Lu, I- I’m pregnant.”

His eyes light up, and you can tell he loses control for a moment because his skin glows a radiant glow, his red hair almost blinding. He grabs your hands, placing them in his, as he asks, “is that why you were crying?”

You nod your head, the action causing a pain throughout your head.

“Are you worried?” He asks, concern on his features.

You stare into his eyes, his mechanical one whirring taking in everything about you. The look on his face told you your concerns were ill-founded, but they still tumbled out of your mouth.

“How are we going to teach them how to read? I’ve never taught anyone how to read.”

His brows furrow, and his eyes light with amusement.

“I think we have a few minutes before teaching them how to read, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He pauses, cutting you off before you can speak again, “and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to teach them how to count.”

You and Lucien had sat on that couch for hours, all of your worries melting away with your husband’s comforting words.

And the realization from Lu that you could, in fact, hire a tutor to teach the babe how to read.

The two of you had retired to your rooms after dinner with Helion, where he made zero progress with names for your babe to call him.

The name “Papa Hehe” was what led the two of you to excuse yourselves so you could laugh in private over how much thought he was putting into the names.

Lucien helped you out of your dress, pulling it over your head.

“You know,” he says, putting the dress away and picking up one of your nightgowns, “my taking your dress off is how we ended up here.”

You push his chest lightly, “Lu, I’m so swollen I can hardly walk down the corridors.”

His smirk turns feline, “I never said you had to move.”

“I’m due any day now,” you tell him.

“I heard that pleasure can help induce labor,” he whispers in your ear, tucking hair behind it.

You laugh into Lucien’s mouth as he kisses you, holding you as close as the bump would allow him to. You let him guide you to the bed, and he helps you lay down on your back, your hair adorning the pillow behind you in a halo.

Lucien’s hand caressed your swollen belly, receiving a light kick in response.

“And pray tell, what is my baby girl doing awake at this hour?”

You roll your eyes, giving up ages ago on correcting him. Neither of you had any inkling as to the sex, but Lucien was convinced it was a babygirl.

“She got confused and thought we lived in the Night Court.”

Lucien chuckles as he drags his hands up your thigh, delicately placing kisses up your calf and up your thigh, your moans spurring him on further.

And damn it all if Lucien wasn’t right about his baby girl, who arrived about twelve hours later.

[gilbirda]

Personal coach Red Hood

Idea by @impyssadobsessions where Jazz needs a personal trainer from a gotham hero and chooses red hood. Eventual ship content. This is more of a setting so far but i have ideas. I accept ideas too, im just balling

I'm going to try a more chill and lax posting with this bad boy. I feel like my rigid way of organizing is making me feel restricted so this will be 1000% vibes and let's see where it goes.

Part 2

---

Jazz knew this was a stupid idea. Dangerous. Suicidal, maybe, depending on who would answer her call. But she still had to try.

You may be wondering how a twenty something young woman ends up following Gotham heroes around with a notepad. She wasn’t looking for an autograph, or for the latest scoop on the heroes, trying to uncover their secrets.

She was actually writing down their patterns and observations in behavior, trying to map their patrol routes and create a decent enough file and expectations of the heroes.

What did she need the information for?

She needed a personal trainer.

No, not the kind you hire at the gym. She already tried that and it didn’t work. She also tried MMA, and kickboxing and just to see if she could do it, Judo. All were interesting and gave her a pretty good picture of what her body was capable of, and a guesstimate of her physical limitations.

But no. She needed something else, something more… tailored for what she actually needed the training for.

She needed to intern with a hero. The term “sidekick” felt wrong for what she had in mind, since she didn’t want to be that hero’s trainee forever. Or was interested in the current superhero scene at all. They were doing just fine without her.

She just… she felt left out. Danny was amazing but he didn’t need her, not as much as she would have liked. He was a hero, and a pretty good one, but he wasn’t in any place to train her. Not that he wanted to, since he usually avoided her every time she brought it up.

Her baby brother was all grown up and he didn’t need his older sister anymore. 

Jazz shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Danny would always need her — she just needed to do her homework and keep up with him on her own. If she just trained enough and could hold her own in ghost fights, she was sure Danny would be grateful and appreciate her support. Who knows, maybe he would be happy that he didn’t need to be wary of ghosts day and night, and actually rest and focus on his neglected studies.

She yawned, lamenting another night that looked to be a bust. Maybe the heroes were busy tonight? Maybe they were on a big mission away? Unlikely that all of them were away, there were usually at least a few of the Bats flying around the city.

Why Gotham, you may ask? Of all the funny-dressed crime fighters on Earth, why these people? 

Easy.

They were human.

That piqued Jazz’s interest. She had been between the Arrows and the Bats, but finally chose the Bats because Gotham had one perk over Star City: unlimited supply of ectoplasm. The place was almost as coated in the thing as Amity, which she was grateful for. It saved her from going back and forth to places rich with ghost activity and fishing blobs to eat.

Don’t ask too many questions about the consuming blob ghosts part. It was a necessary evil.

However, it’s been a few months and all she got to show for her efforts was a notepad filled with scribbles she painstakingly copied to her computer and a lot of frustration.

Until one night she caught Red Hood alone as he checked his phone. She waited until he was done texting — she had manners thank you very much — and jumped in front of him before he had the chance to grapple away.

“Hi— oof.” 

Thanks the ancients for her reflexes and Judo training, she blocked Hood's punch and following kick. It would probably bruise but it wasn't the end of the world.

“What the fuck?” 

“Hi,” she tried again, “I'm Jazz.”

He didn't punch her again, which she took as a good sign. Instead, he took a step back and squared up like he was expecting a fight.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he scoffed but let her continue speaking, “I’m looking for… I guess you’d call it a mentor? That sounds weird… A personal trainer? No, that’s wrong too. Hm, I wonder if there’s a word for ‘person who is the only one that can teach you very specific information in a field of interest that legally, or otherwise—’.”

Red Hood cleared his throat, making her jump.

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah? I am real.”

Hood looked at her in silence for a few moments. Then, he sighed and rubbed one gloved hand against his helmet. 

“Listen, girl.”

“Jazz!”

“Jazz,” somehow she got the impression he grumbled, but the voice modulator did its job really well, “I have things to do, ok? Crimes to stop and stuff. So… yeah. Goodnight.”

He turned around and picked the grapple gun from inside his jacket.

“Wait!” 

He jumped and misfired the gun, hitting the wall of the building instead of the roof, like he was supposed to. As the gun recalled the rope, he looked over his shoulder at her. Jazz understood he was glaring at her, she could feel the daggers on her skin.

“Hear me out, ok?” He didn’t move or said anything. “I need— I have tried hiring a trainer, at… back at the gym. You know? But that wasn’t enough. I think I need to train with an actual hero—”

“Listen,” the word was accompanied by the hook of the grapple clicking into place, “whatever it is you are looking for, you definitely are not going to find it with me. So. Scramble.” 

He made a shooing gesture with one hand and aimed the gun without looking, shooting it and amazingly enough, hitting the edge of the rooftop. He made a salute as he was launched to the air at high speed.

Jazz didn’t follow, mesmerized by the skill. Hood landed with a flip and without breaking momentum, started running to the next rooftop, jumping impossible lengths. The way he moved was confident, powerful and measured.

She wanted to do that. She needed Red Hood to train her.

---

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[chanranghaeys]

📉 blunt

“They say keep your friends close…and your enemies closer. So I did.” “But why is it that when I got closer, you seemed less like an enemy…and more of something else?”

pairing: corporate!dino x gn!corporate!reader word count: 2.1k tags: angst, hurt, corporate competition, not friendly competition at all, almost office romance but asshole!dino happened? warnings: taunting, bickering, cursing, nsfw teasing, literal “not safe for work” stuff haha

a/n: this is for all the corporate working guys and gals out there. inspired by this video from the gose mag vol 2 shoot and a short twt convo that ensued with my moots and i hskdjfh

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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“Thank you everyone for your time. See you all for the final presentation next week.”

You slam the lid of your laptop shut—gently—at that last remark from your project lead. This project would make or break the reputation of the whole firm and everyone felt the pressure and tension. No big deal, just millions of dollars, everyone’s jobs, and the name of every person involved were on the line.

You paused for a while to take a moment for yourself when you were broken out of your reverie by a blunt force hitting the back of your head. You look for the source and glare at the black laptop bag in front of your face. Of course.

You looked up and were greeted with a smirking face and an eye roll. He looked like an angel with his platinum blonde hair and playful eyes, but he was the devil in disguise if you actually knew him.

It took all your willpower to remain seated and not burst out. That would not bode well for your professional image with most of the people still in the meeting room. There’s always been tension between the two of you since this project started. And you both knew the exact reason why.

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You were tasked to lead the presentation during the meeting last week. It was an important one because it wasn’t just the team in attendance—the whole executive committee would be there. No big deal though, you were prepared and confident. You were wearing your smartest business attire, hyping yourself up because god knows how else you could get through that morning.

People started coming into the board room one by one. And in he came, as if he were the one commanding the room. The other guys came in their best effort, but he walked in wearing a tailored suit, somehow looking dressed down yet dressed up. And you knew he was in the room before you saw him. He took on a distinct scent, sweet but powerful, spicy and intoxicating. You glared at him and he gave a polite nod of the head in return.

“Good luck,” he said. His smile was full of goodwill, but his eyes were telling another story. His line of sight shifted from you to your laptop and back. An alarm bell rang in your head, but you couldn’t risk being rattled before it even started.

When the executive committee arrived, the president was expectant, looking toward his direction when they asked, “So who will be presenting the final proposal today?”

You projected your voice to take back command. “That would be me,” you said with a winning and confident smile, and you began. You breezed through the presentation with ease until you reached the part discussing the budget.

“Something seems off with the figures.” The chief finance officer narrowed their eyes and reviewed the document in front of them, comparing it to the presentation flashed on the screen.

What the… They were right, there was something off. The numbers were wrong and made no sense, and the executive committee was here precisely so they could see the bottom line and make sure it was logically sound with the proposal. Shit. Why didn’t I see this before?

“If I may…”

“Ah, Chan.” Your project lead signaled you of the happenings, looking at him with a questioning look. “What is this?”

“Well, I reviewed the deck before this meeting and actually saw this coming.” What? Your smile as you looked at him was tight—civil and seething. “Sadly, there wasn’t enough time to revise the presentation before this meeting, but I can point out how the numbers are supposed to add up.” He met your gaze at that last line as if mocking your incompetency.

He stood up and started talking, pointing out the flaws in your computations. But he didn’t stop there. He continued to point out other flaws in your presentation and how those contributed to the wrong numbers. He didn’t stop. Almost as if…he planned this from the beginning.

You two were assigned to complete the final proposal and you’ve both been working on it for weeks. Believe it or not, you actually liked working with him. He was smart and knew what he was doing, and he was naturally good at it—Too good, you think to yourself sometimes.

But when your team lead assigned you to present and finalize the whole thing, he suddenly became competitive, hard to reach, and infinitely harder to collaborate with. His sudden 180-degree change did not make any sense at all to you, until today. Until you saw him presenting in front of the executive committee, engaging everyone in a way that you did not and could not.

I am his number one competition and he thinks he is better than me. He thinks I don’t deserve it. But that’s what he thinks.

Once the presentation meeting was over, you made your way to the employees’ locker area. With everything that happened today, you needed to breathe. You couldn’t stand the congratulations Chan was receiving, the ones that were supposed to be yours.

You found your way in front of your locker and opened the lock with ease. You didn’t know why you did that though, as your locker was empty save for a spare set of heels and a photo of you and your family attached to the back of the locker door.

He was in the room before you saw him, that sweet and spicy scent following him around wherever he went. The only time you acknowledged him was when he was standing to your right, leaning on the lockers and looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“Why are you here?” You greeted him with a side eye.

“I thought you could use some company.”

“What makes you think I’d appreciate your company?”

Chan shrugged. “You always used to like my company.”

“That was before you became an asshole.”

“I’m hurt. How could you call me that when I wanted to give you my congratulations?”

The scoff you let out echoed throughout the room. “Excuse me? You knew what was going on back there. You knew there was something wrong, and I’m willing to bet my ass that you’ve known about it for days—maybe even weeks. And you did not bother to tell me for reasons I cannot fathom aside from you being a selfish son of a bitch.”

“Ooh, the slander.” He breathed in through his mouth with an audible hiss. “I can raise this up to HR as degradation.”

“Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up the way you do with the big bosses. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You think you’re way too good to be at the same level as I am that you would go as far as almost sabotaging a presentation like that with this unprofessionalism.”

“Unprofessional? Who the fuck do you think saved your sorry ass back there?”

“Saved? You could have saved it by being cooperative in the first place and those damn numbers wouldn’t be a fuck up at all!”

You jump when Chan leaves your side and slams your locker door shut. But you are unfazed and laugh. “Wow, that’s so mature Chan.” But when you turn to face him, he remains there, his left arm caging you against the lockers.

“Chan, get the fuck away away from me.” You push against his arm and chest but he resists, instead folding his arm to frame your face with his forearm and pinning you effectively to the lockers with his height. He towers over you and you attempt to look up at his piercing gaze.

“Chan…what the fuck are you doing?” His perfume washes over your senses with his face and neck mere inches away. He arrived at the locker area more dressed down from the meeting, his coat and necktie gone and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His argyle sweater vest hides a glint of silver from around his neck.

It takes all your willpower to meet his eyes in this close proximity. And you were both daring to do so, knowing that this was an area secluded from the rest of the office.

“Do you remember when you first arrived here, all bright eyes and smiles during your first day?” Chan’s eyes softened for a bit and matched the hushed tone of his voice. You could feel his breath on your face, smelling sweet from a breath mint. “One look at you and I knew why you were hired. One look and I knew you were special.” He raised his hand to slowly, painstakingly brush away a stray piece of your hair, before slowly tracing a finger down your cheek. “One look...and I knew you were dangerous."

“What are you doing?” You whisper as his finger continues to follow a line down your neck and to your shoulder.

“You were dangerous. You were a threat. Instantly, I knew that this new hire would rob me of the years of experience I toiled over in this company to reach my position when you just got it in the blink of an eye.” As he was speaking, the line continued like a livewire of sensation down your arm, to the side of your torso, and finally rested on your waist “How dare you?” When he said this, he tugged at your waist and closed the already minimal distance between your lower bodies. You take in a sharp breath.

You dare not move any part of your body, but he continues. He leans in to whisper to your ear, “They say keep your friends close…and your enemies closer. So I did.”

You briefly close your eyes and remember your first days at this company. Chan was one of the first people who made you feel welcome with his warm smile and infectious laugh, accompanied you during lunch breaks, and taught you the ropes. But you could never forget the mornings in the pantry when both of you would wait together for the machine to churn out the freshly brewed coffee. You stood beside each other in silence when no more topics could be shared, and day by day the distance between the two of you grew smaller and smaller—until the backs of your hands could almost touch each other, until your pinky fingers could overlap when you both set your hands on the counter.

Chan’s voice broke your reverie when he said, “But why is it that when I got closer, you seemed less like an enemy…and more of something else?” His other hand moved from against the lockers to delicately cradle your neck while his lips moved from your ear to hover over your lips with the tips of your noses lightly touching.

You couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your hands move on their own accord, one holding onto his hand on your neck and the other fiddling with his collar as you grab on his silver necklace to pull him as close as you can.

Your open lips touch his and remain there, hovering in an unresolved kiss. You share each other’s breaths as they both quicken and you feel him against your thigh. He tightens his grip around your waist and pulls you in until there is no distance between your bodies. Your heartbeat is in your ears, ringing with desire and a rush of blood to your head.

“So who am I, Chan?” You say this against his lips. “Who am I?” You feel his hand on your neck pull you in and you briefly see his eyes flutter and close in anticipation.

In a brief moment of weakness, you consider giving in. But you kept a rational mind, and the bruise to your pride and ego was all it took to hold him tight and force yourself away from his cage. He stumbles and hits the lockers that brace his supposed fall. Chan looks at you with bewilderment and sexual frustration evident on his face.

You look back in confusion and with pain in your eyes, hoping they mirror the pang in your chest containing the pain and hurt that your professional self could never show. Maybe you could have shown it if things went differently, and maybe you could have shown it to him. But the cutthroat nature of your jobs would never allow it—he proved it in front of everyone earlier.

“Because I know who I am. And I am not someone you just play with and screw over.” You fight back the tears in your eyes. You could not show weakness, not now. “Suck it up. And play this game right.”

You fix your disheveled clothes and hair and turn your back to him, walking away from him and wishing you could do the exact opposite. But there was no other choice in this matter.

[t-tomuras]

இ•◦ ─── • 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬

Pairing: Topaz x Reader x Aventurine

Warnings: m/f/f threesome, dubious consent (just in case), fingering, oral, teasing, vaginal penetration, creampie, lingerie, praise (use of good girl and sweetheart), a hint of overstim and a smidge of aftercare, power imbalance if you squint.

Wordcount: 3.8k

You’ve heard of workplace hazing, plenty of the lower ranked IPC employees talked about hostile work environments in hushed tones and whispered voices but you’ve never dealt with anything like that. 

Especially not from any of the Stonehearts, regardless of all the rumors you’ve heard whispered in break rooms and behind closed doors, specifically Topaz and Aventurine. Ms. Jade was also very welcoming, if not a little sultry but you think she’s always like that. Nevertheless the two aforementioned higher ups were your utmost favorites. 

Topaz, aside from Jade of course, was the first member of the ten Stonehearts that you first met, assigned to her to shadow and study for the first few days before transitioning to your respective branch to oversee separate operations. She was still your boss, ranking wise, but she quickly made you feel like you weren’t alone; that you’d made a friend to count on.

Flashing you dazzling smiles and communicating with you regularly in ways you’re sure were a little less than professional but it puts you at ease regardless. The atmosphere within the IPC always felt so strict and suffocating but Topaz always showed you that you could ‘work and play’ respectively.  

Helping you settle in comfortably by treating you to lunch and taking you on ‘excursions’ you’re almost positive weren’t work sanctioned but you had little desire to complain. She was smart, especially when utilizing assets at her disposal like taking you on a tour of her recent successful debt collection of a frozen planet called Jarilo-IV; or even treating you to multiple exotic cuisines and unique crafts from the historic Arum Alley on the Xianzhou Loufu. 

Topaz loved the way you lit up, commended often that it was nice to see you relaxed in your new position. That the IPC really wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be and you were inclined to agree the more time you spent with her. You consider her a friend before long and you assume the feeling is mutual with how liberally she touches you, how closely she lingers in your presence and how often she seeks out your company. 

And where Topaz showed you the ropes (and even gave you her personal number to reach her, should you ‘need help’), Aventurines treated you to the more extravagant parts of business deals. Showing you how he runs his section of the strategic department, though mostly working with him seemed just as relaxed as it was with Topaz if not more so.

Aventurine was incredibly generous and considerate, it makes you wonder why most people you know avoid interacting with him all together. He’d gifted you plenty of things within your first few weeks of employment. He’d taken you shopping at highend centers, introducing you to intergalactically renowned tailors because, and you quote, “The IPC has a knack for striking deals but lacks a fashionable taste, it’d be an affront to everyone if we let you walk around in their issued uniforms.”

You spent hours being measured and having materials and designs swatched and matched to make sure your outfit reflected the best version of yourself. Aventurine even paid for multiple outfits to which you turned to him with a furrowed brow at the prospect. Stepping from the podium more than once only for him to tut at you as the seamstress assistants usher you back to your rightful place, ‘it’s on me’ purred at you reassuringly several times with a relaxed smile as he twirled a gold coin between deft digits. 

You really couldn’t understand why anyone could dislike either of the pair, frowning at and arguing with subordinates and superiors alike that had anything even remotely negative to say about them. Refuting their grievances and baseless insults with staunch defiance that Topaz coincidentally happened to witness on one of her rare slow workdays.

You’re a sweet little thing, that was obvious enough to everyone you interacted with but you were also fiercely protective as well, not overly aggressive or combative but you certainly weren’t going to take mistreatment of any kind. 

Be it for yourself or those that were fortunate enough to know you. It makes Topaz snort to herself, scoffing at the thought of Aventurines luck somehow rubbing off on her as well. 

She intervenes before the disagreement could escalate to raised voices and devolve into a petty squabble of little consequence to the Stonehearts, creating a hush between the handful of employees. Approaching the gathering from your rear and she thinks the flash of confusion painting your pretty features is precious when you pivot to see what’s quashed the conversation so quickly. Your shoulders relax to a casual sag as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you greet her airly where the rest stand at attention to their superior.

“Ms. Topaz!” A chorus of varying tones but she focuses on yours solely, petite palm and delicate digits of one hand resting at the center of your upper back between your shoulder blades. Another informal contact with her that was always welcome with you before she all but grimaces at the semi-circle of lower-ranked officials. 

“What seems to be the issue guys?” Playful lilt ever present but there's an intentional edge to her tone that tells the group her question was rhetorical. The gaggle stands at attention before Topaz simply nods at them all with a stern look they know well is a dismissal before they risk any formal reprimand or worse. 

Rolling her eyes before plastering on her ever present smile at you as she guides you back from where she’d come. Soft pads of her fingers ghosting down your spine and it threatens to make you shiver beneath her touch, turning to your superior just as her hand rests at the small of your back, just above the swell of your ass.

Your lips part to speak but whatever you wanted to ask her dies on your tongue the moment you meet her crystalline gaze, her expression is comforting, misleadingly innocent. She’s cute, distractingly so, disarming in a way you assume certainly helps her with difficult negotiations. 

“Did you hear any of that?” You look disgruntled, brow furrowed and a scowl threatens to marr your features as Topaz shrugs her shoulders and guides you with ease. 

“Nothing I hadn’t heard before,” exhaled on a breathless chuckle as she pulls a door open for you.

Topaz takes you down familiar hallways until you’re traispsing down the lodging quarters for business hours. At first you think she’s just walking you to your room but as your eyes scan over the room numbers, none of them are recognizable. Quizzical look contorting your pretty features, Topaz finding it cute, the same as every other expression you make, when she glances at you from the corner of her eye. Subtly hastening her step to take the lead and she scans her badge for her own room, pulling you inside her quarters before you’re given the chance to question her. 

The door sliding shut behind you as she traverses further into the spacious room as you take in your surroundings. Glancing about in awe of the extravagance, having truly believed the benefits to being a high ranking IPC employee couldn’t surprise you further. 

Until your gaze finds topaz again, breath stalking in your throat as you watch her casually undress. Cheekily shimmying from her clothes with her back to you, crimson red thong a stark contrast to the pale glow of her skin in the lowlight as she steps from her shorts. She spins on her heel with her hands clasped behind her back as she flops onto the edge of the mattress, kicking away the material completely as she crosses one leg over the other. 

“Come here,” cooed alluringly though she’s only met with your hesitation, unsure of if it's just standard reluctance or flusterment as you fiddle with your cuticles, although she doesn’t think it’s rejection in the slightest. 

She’s seen your lingering, longing glances on her in passing, just like how you watch her now though there is a potent and overt desire in your gaze as your eyes rake up Topaz’s body. 

She adores it, enjoys watching you and how you react to her even now, leaning back on her palms and stretching her body to give you more to look at. Drawing in slow breaths that expand her chest with a precious purse to her full lips and a lidded gaze. 

Topaz cracks a smile when you stay rooted where you stand, wiggling her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before giggling all together and opting to reach for you instead. Her fingertips hooking on your own before she leans towards you, taking your hand with a firmer grasp as she pulls you closer. 

“You’re cute,” she purrs, playful lilt somehow overly sultry to you in this moment but you think that may just be your own nerves with the shift in your relationship, whatever that may be now. Topaz uncrosses her legs and turns you when you’re standing just at her knees before pulling you into her lap, resting you atop her pillowy thighs before she parts them and your own alike. 

She hooks her chin on your shoulder, humming in satisfaction as one hand snakes around to cradle your jaw,“I’ve got two things for you, a reward and a surprise.” 

“A reward?” You gasp breathlessly as you relax in her lap, choosing to focus on one thing before another, for your own sanity's sake. Swallowing thickly as you draw a steadying breath, “for what?” 

You’re so cute Topaz thinks she could just eat you up, fully understanding now why Ms. Jade does and acts the way she does. Her thumb stretches to ghost over the plump flesh of your bottom lip, Topaz’s lashes fluttering as she presses the pad at the seam of your lips to force a gentle kiss. Her free hand rubs at your tricep for a moment before she sighs, dragging her palm down the expanse of your arm, over your abdomen before dipped between your thighs to cup your mound, “for being such a good girl, silly.” 

A pleasant shudder wracks your form, your own thighs twitching slightly as you reflexively spread your thighs further. Topaz presses her lips to your shoulder, smiling against your flesh as she dips beneath your skirt and teases over the delicate lace that covers your steadily soaking slit. 

“You work so hard,” Topaz hums as you relax into her, shoulders sagging while you slouch lower so her delicate fingers can stroke along your clothed cunt, periodically swirling over your clit, “it was about time we show you just how much we appreciate your efforts.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage with trepidation coursing in your veins with every beat but you’re more than willing to become puddy in her capable hands. You’re certain this violates something in your several mile long contract, that there would be some sort of ramifications but you really can’t bring yourself to care as soon as Topaz’s fingers slip beneath your panties.

Deft digits glide through your folds, teasing around your entrance that clenches around nothing in anticipation with each teasing dip from your superior. Slick clicking mingling in the silence of her room alongside your intermittent sighs while the woman beneath you brushes her lips in chaste affections along the slope of your throat. Groping at your chest as she does, palming one of your breasts and kneading the fat of it before she pinches and rolls a pert nipple between her index and thumb; enjoying how you pant for her and your body subtly asks for more by arching into her hands over just a little teasing.

“We?” you finally question amidst your haze despite how Topaz works to hold your undivided attention. Doing such a stellar job of it that you don’t register the sound of the door opening or the light from the hallway bleeding through for a fraction of a moment as another body slips into the space. 

“How did I know that you’d start without me Topaz?” Aventurine teases as he carefully removes his designer gloves and slips off his overcoat to drape over an armchair adjacent to the mattress where you sit as he drinks in the sight of you already enjoying yourself. It looks like Topaz was only toying with your body, working you up with little intention to get you anywhere close before Aventurine arrived, “worried I’ll out-perform you like I always do?”

‘Oh Aven, you’re just in time. I was just teaching the newbie what it means to relax and the reward she’s earned because of it,” cooed against the shell of your ear before Topaz nips at the cartilage but all you can really hear is the roar of your own blood and the slick clit of your cunt the more Topaz piddles lazily with you. His dual-toned hues aglow in the lowlight or at least they appear that way, hungry as he’s standing before you. 

Bending at the waist to take your chin in his hold the same way Topaz had earlier, tipping it gently upwards to meet his vibrant and captivating hues, “poor you, stuck with Topaz for so long. She likes to take her time with her projects, terribly inefficient but I’m here now to show you how it’s done.” 

“As if you don’t do the same,” giggled as her free hand hooks into the cup of your top that’s always displayed a modest amount of your cleavage, pulling it down until your pillowy tits spill free from their confines. Cerulean hues flitting up to meet the other Stoneheart’s fleeting gaze as she tugs at your neglected nipple, making your lashes flutter. You swallow down a mewl as you swallow thickly but only grow wetter beneath her fingertips, shying all over again now that your other favorite joins the fold, “but taking your time is hardly a bad thing, especially with the things you enjoy.” 

Aven chuckles airily, swatting away Topaz’s fingers before hooking his own into the band of your skirt to tug it down your thighs along with your panties. Sinking to his knees as he handles the fabric delicately, pressing his lips to your inner thigh just above your own knee. 

“Ah you're even wearing the lingerie set I picked out for you, I knew you’d love them,” his tone somewhat mocking but you can hardly register that with the warm breath fanning overheated skin. Tensing slightly when his fingers grip your knees, pushing them further apart to make room for his body, tutting at you when he feels your thighs flex and threaten to close around his head.

“Wait!” Your voice surprises even yourself, only the man between your legs stalls, Topaz still littering chaste brushes of her lips along your shoulders as her fingers keep you spread for Aventurine. 

A beat passes between you, a suspended silence before Aventurine chuckles and leans his cheek against your inner thigh, “were you going to follow that up with anything sweetheart or are you just stalling?”

The nervousness is cute, he wouldn’t be doing this at all if he didn’t think you’d wanted this. Wouldn’t have even humored Topaz when /she/ brought it up to him a few weeks prior after an impromptu meeting with the other Stonehearts over their project divisions. 

He’d seen the way you looked at him, noticed how you leered the times he’d traipsed through the springs in only the skimpy little towel that just barely covered his modesty. Aventurine liked to gamble, sure, that was without question.

But he gambled most and went big when he was certain of a positive outcome. 

“Wh..” stammering? Unlike you, but you know it's because of the pair you’re sandwiched between now. You pause, draw in a steadying breath before squirming slightly at the contrasting coolness of Aventurine’s breath over your heated slit when he huffs impatiently. Writhing as you do even though he still bears his usual cat smile, “what do you mean that you picked out? I thought it was a little gag gift?”

They both noticeably pause, stone still before Aventurine chuckles airily, the sound of it warming your skin as you squirm against Topaz only for her to hold you more firmly. 

“As if anyone could afford something this extravagant as a gag,” he purrs haughtily after his laughter subsides into scattered chuckles. He kneads at your thigh as he leans closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your mound just about the pearl at the apex of your slit with a cheeky grin, “just like everything else I’ve bought you, it’s because I thought you’d look nice in it.”

Uttered casually as he dips lower, stealing the breath from your lungs as he gives a languid stripe over the length of your folds. Humming in satisfaction at both the taste of your slick and the way you respond to him easily. Tension bleeding from your body as he buries into your folds, nose brushing against your clit as he feasts on you greedily for such a frivolous man. 

“Someone’s eager,” Topaz teases as she cups the column of your throat, fitting it perfectly in the web of her palm. Gently stroking her index finger along your thrumming pulse as her lashes flutter shut, smile finding her pretty features at the vibration of your moans that are not yet loud enough to indulge in. 

Gasping herself when two lithe but skilled digits plunge into her own cunt “very eager,” purring throatily as her own head tips backwards to enjoy the rare treatment. 

“Speak for yourself,” muttered between the rapid flicks of his tongue over your puffy bundle of nerves, “this wet from just fondling? I bet you’ll be the first to cum too, selfish girl, this isn’t about you.”

He’s relentless in his assault though, giving Topaz no room for rebuttal and you little reprieve before his lips wrap around your clit and suckles gently. Curling his fingers in Topaz’s cunt and stroking velvety walls until you're both arching and gasping, left at his mercy until tears gather at the corners of your eyes. The woman behind you moaning unabashedly in your ear warms your blood and even in the throes of her own pleasure she still works in tandem with the man between your thighs to overwhelm you. 

Topaz’s middle and ring finger replace Aventurine’s tongue over your abused clit, rolling over the sensitive nub while his tongue prods at your entrance until your hips twitch forward at the onslaught. Your eyes roll and you can’t help how your hips buck helplessly into his face as the coil in your lower belly winds tightly and begs to break. Muttering a string of hushed curses before long, broken pleads for relief littered between it along with breathy babbling of both of your superiors name while you grip at anything to ground yourself.

The fat of Topaz’s thigh, your own breast not firmly and gently held in her delicate grasp, the steadily soaking comforter beneath you before finally settling on the luscious blond locks atop Aventurine’s head. Pulling a throat groan from him at a particularly rough tug that you try and mutter a halfhearted apology for just as you’re brought to euphoria. Galaxies more brilliant than the ones you’ve traveled for work erupting behind your eyelids as you arch away from Topaz, hips stuttering into his face as Aventurine laps at you through it. 

You think you can hear the woman behind you reach rapture as well but her sweet moans sound distant and far away as well, too blissed out to really register a thing around you. 

Missing the sound of Aventurine’s voice and whatever salacious sentence he utters as his belt buckle tinkles after its undone. Almost hastily undoing the clasp and zipper of his designer slacks as he pushes them down to mid thigh. 

He was a giving man but he also loved to indulge in his own spoils. Sinking his rigid length into your still spasming cunt and the sensation only prolongs your climax; that, or you’d cum again from insertion alone, you can’t be sure but there’s little time to care. 

Topaz reaches between your bodies then, purring praises in your ear and taunting Aventurine with words that sound garbled and hazy as your head lolls back against her shoulder. You can feel her hand wrap around your throat again, the feel of her lips at the hinge of your jaw before she nips at your earlobe while Aventurine ruts into you with precision. 

The tip of his cock nudging perfectly into that spongy spot within you that keeps you in a perpetual moan. The roll of his hips growing sloppy the closer Aventurine nears his own release, lips finding yours to swallow the rewarding reactions as he echoes them back to you. One of his hands grips firmly at your waist while the other holds fast to your hip, grinding your clit along his pelvis as he gives you shallow ruts. 

The friction and the feel of being filled full while Topaz adds to the pleasure sends you over the edge again, walls spasming around his cock seals Aventurine’s own demise. The blond sputters and gasps on your name, choking on a groan as he spills his seed into you as his hips stutter from the stimulation. 

Thrusting into you lazily until both of you twitch from the motion, pulling his softening length from your warm a moment later. Some of his spend threatens to leak from you, to make an even bigger mess between your thighs before much thinner digits delve back into your sensitive hole. Topaz plunges her fingers into you leisurely, shushing you when you whine from the stimulation as Aventurine chuckles above you. 

Slouching slightly as his lips brush over your crown while he pulls his designer boxers up to make himself halfway decent. Pad of his index finger tapping gently on the underside of your chin to tilt your gaze upwards, hazy and unfocused as it is, as he cradles your jaw. 

“Consider that as a commemorative gift, darling,” winking at you cheekily with a sultry tinge to his tone, moreso than usual, before Topaz swats at him with her free hand. 

“Yeah, yeah, Aven, just get a warm wash-rag to clean her up or I’ll let Numby use your wingtips as chew toys.” 

He’s already crossing the room before Topaz finishes her less than idle threat, waving her off as he steps into the ensuite bathroom to run a bath for you in the extravagant tub. Sure to leave you feeling in the lap of luxury after treating you to the finer things in life.

[ikkyfics]

Come back to me

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: "Why are you here, Tom?" Your voice was firmer this time, despite the pulse hammering in your ears. "Because you left me." He tilted his head, and the slightly joking tone disappeared for a moment. "And honestly, I thought it was clearer that I don't let things get away so easily."

Warnings: suggestive , just Tom being Tom

Masterlist

The sound of knocking on the door echoed through the dark room, interrupting your peaceful night. You settled into the couch, the tub of ice cream balanced in your hands and the spoon between your teeth, frowning. It was too late for visitors. For a moment, you stood still, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away. But the knocking persisted, steady and rhythmic, as if the visitor knew you were home.

Sighing, you put the ice cream aside and stood up, hurriedly adjusting your short pajamas. The soft fabric hugged your skin, the fuzzy socks muffled the sound of your footsteps on the floor. You hesitantly unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peek in.

There, framed by the pale light of the hallway, he stood.

Tom Ryder, with his perfectly trimmed beard, his hair tousled in a calculated way, and that unbearably confident expression. The expensive leather jacket and the impeccable shirt underneath were in keeping with the image of a movie star he carried like a trophy. Even his tailored pants and leather shoes gleamed ridiculously opulent.

“You?” Your voice came out louder than you intended, betraying your surprise.

He smiled, one corner of his mouth turning up, his blue eyes boring into you as if they knew a secret you didn’t. “Now, don’t look at me like that. Are you going to leave me out here? That’s not very polite of you.”

“How… How do you know where I live?”

His smile widened, tinged with an almost irritating smugness. “I know more than I let on, honey.”

You blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the situation. He, the man who had practically turned your life into a circus with his endless post-its and absurd demands, was standing there, in your doorway, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“I… I don’t think…” you started to reply, but he raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, as if he was gauging your resistance.

“If you’d rather have our picture taken and it become news tomorrow, fine. But personally, I think it would be better if we talked away from the cameras. Don’t you think?” His eyes trailed down to your ridiculously short pajamas, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped a few octaves. “And I’d hate for anyone else to see you like this.”

Before you could form a response, he walked past you, his woodsy, expensive scent filling the air between you. Your house suddenly felt smaller with his presence, overwhelmingly filled with an energy that was impossible to ignore.

“Lovely, by the way,” he murmured as he walked toward the living room, glancing sideways at your fuzzy socks with a half smile.

You closed the door behind you, still processing the surreality of the scene, feeling the blood pool in your cheeks. There he was, collapsing on the couch as if he owned the house, his arms resting on the backrest and his legs crossed in a relaxed manner.

“Are you comfortable?” Your question was laced with sarcasm, but he just laughed.

“Much more than you seemed in the office.” He reached out, grabbing the tub of ice cream you’d left on the coffee table. Before you could protest, he dipped the spoon into the ice cream and took a generous bite.

“Strawberry,” he murmured, a smile curving his lips deliberately. “It suits you.”

Heat rose quickly to your face, but you weren’t sure if it was from irritation or the way he said it—his voice low, almost like a purr. He held the tub of ice cream with an irritating ease, as if it were completely normal to break into your house and steal your dessert.

"Hey, you weren't invited to get this!" You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way he'd settled himself on the couch, taking up even more space, and the way his presence seemed to make the room feel suffocating.

He looked up from the bowl, his blue eyes staring at you with intensity. It was a gaze that stripped you bare, that seemed to register all the details you didn't want him to notice: the short pajamas that exposed your thighs, the skin that heated up under his gaze, as if he were touching you without even moving.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, without a hint of remorse, returning the bowl to the table with sloppy elegance. "But you can't really blame me for this. That ice cream was asking for it."

"Asking for it?" you repeated incredulously, but your voice sounded weaker than it should have.

"Yes. Just like you seem to be asking for a break, my dear. Do you want me to explain myself or are you going to keep looking at me like that?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn't form anything. He leaned back on the couch, his long fingers resting on his bent knee, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and something much darker, almost predatory.

It was overwhelming. The couch seemed too small to contain him, too small for the two of you. Your home had never felt so strange as it did now, filled with his scent and the force of personality he carried.

"Why are you here, Tom?" Your voice was firmer this time, despite the pulse hammering in your ears.

"Because you left me." He tilted his head, and the slightly joking tone disappeared for a moment. "And honestly, I thought it was clearer that I don't let things get away so easily."

"Get away? I'm a person, not a contract!" You snapped, trying to ignore the way he leaned forward slightly, his beard shadowing his jaw in a way that made it hard to look away.

"I know that." His tone softened, but it didn't lose its intensity. "And that's why I'm here. Because… I needed to remind you that no one does what you do. And honestly, I refuse to accept anyone else in your place."

"So this is about work?" You glared at him, crossing your arms again.

"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow, letting the question hang in the air.

Your heart gave an uncomfortable leap in your chest, especially when you noticed his gaze slowly trailing down your face and neck, before continuing to the soft swell of your breasts, covered only by the thin fabric, leaving little to the imagination. It was a second—a moment too quick to be considered deliberate—but it was enough to set your skin on fire.

You wanted to scream, wanted to tell him to go away, but all you could do was look away, only to find him fixed on you again. That smile was back, a teasing half-smile that he made seem natural, but that was carefully calculated.

“Did you bother coming all the way here, in the middle of the night, because you can’t accept someone saying ‘no’ to you for once?” you asked, trying to ignore how your voice had gotten lower.

He laughed, a deep sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s because, as unbearable as you are, you’re the only person who can stand me.”

For a moment, the silence between you was thick, heavy with a tension that felt palpable. Your eyes met, and the space between you on the couch seemed nonexistent. You could feel his heat, every little movement reverberating in the air as if it were amplified.

“So?” he murmured, his tone almost hypnotic. “Are you going to make me beg or are you going to accept that you’ve always been the only person who could put up with me?”

And in that moment, it was impossible to deny the power he had over you—and how annoyingly aware he was of it.

Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your chest. But you weren’t going to show it. Not to him. Not to Tom Ryder.

He was still sitting on the couch, his legs relaxed, his hands resting on his knees in a way that oozed confidence. But his eyes… Oh, his eyes. They were following you, analyzing you, challenging you.

“If you think I’m just going to go back because you came all this way, you’re more delusional than I thought,” you said, crossing your arms and lifting your chin, though your voice had lost some of the firmness you’d intended to convey.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, a smile playing on his lips, as if you’d just issued a challenge he was more than willing to accept.

“Then I’ll beg you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, each word laden with a calculated softness that seemed to wrap around you like silk.

“I’m listening,” you snapped, trying to ignore the heat that was creeping up your spine, getting harder and harder to contain.

“You’re the best, you know that, don’t you?” He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his thighs as his eyes held yours like invisible threads. “It’s not just the work you do—although that’s unbeatable. It’s you. How you’re impossible to ignore. How you walk into a room and everything feels different. There’s no one like you, and I won’t find anyone else who does half of what you do. Who is half of what you are.”

His words were like a spell, each one packed with an almost addictive sweetness. And before you knew it, your feet were moving, small, hesitant steps toward him, as if he’d become damn gravity.

“Keep going,” you said, your voice no louder than a whisper.

He smiled, a flash of triumph shining in his eyes as you stopped right in front of the couch, between his long legs. "Do you have any idea what it's like to look at you and know that I can no longer count on your patience? Your… strength? You're the kind of woman who makes any man lose his mind, and you know it."

The air between you seemed to vibrate. He lifted his hands, his deft fingers touching the fabric of your pajamas in an almost experimental way. Just one touch, and you could already feel the heat radiating across your skin. He laughed, a low, husky sound, before letting his hands slide to your hips, steadying himself there. The pads of his fingers tracing lazy half-circles.

The touch wasn’t invasive; it was deliberate, almost reverent. But the heat he brought was overwhelming.

“Tom…” You began, but the word died on your lips when he tilted his head up, his eyes now dark with an intensity that seemed to burn.

“I need you,” he said, his tone so low you could barely hear him. “And I don’t just mean work. I mean you. I want you to come back. To me.”

The world seemed to stop. The heat of his hands on your skin was unbearable, his fingers just enough to remind you that he was the one touching you. His smile, his voice, his eyes—everything about him seemed to conspire against your sanity.

But the worst part was that you liked it. You liked the way he seemed unable to hide how much he wanted you, liked the power it gave you, even when he was the one who seemed to be in control.

His fingers tightened on your hips, firm, as if to reinforce the urgency in his words. The touch carried something more than a request; it was a demand, a reminder of how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

“Will you come back to me?” His voice was barely a whisper now, but it carried an urgency that made you tremble.

You tried to resist, tried to remember all the reasons he was insufferable, all the times you wanted to scream at him—but none of that seemed to matter now. The warmth of his hands on your skin, his eyes burning into yours, the woody, expensive scent that surrounded you… it was overwhelming. Far beyond anything you could ever dream of bearing.

A weak "yes" escaped your lips before you even had time to realize what you were saying.

That was all he needed.

Before you could react, he pulled you firmly to him, positioning you on his lap in one fluid movement, as if you were made to be there. The initial shock was replaced by an overwhelming heat as his hands moved from your hips to your back, holding you with a strength that seemed to say he wouldn’t let go any time soon. Your hands gripped his broad shoulders in an attempt to find some balance, your breath coming in short gasps from the intensity of the moment.

“Finally,” he murmured, his tone filled with an almost dangerous satisfaction, before pulling you into a kiss.

There was no room for caution or hesitation. His kiss was desperate, almost savage, as if he had been waiting for this for years. It tasted sweetly like strawberry ice cream. His lips were warm and demanding, and you barely managed to hold back the moan that escaped you when you felt his beard lightly scratch your skin, adding a touch of roughness to the contact. You felt his fingers curl into the bare skin of your waist, as if he wanted to leave a mark.

Your fingers moved instinctively, tangling in his hair, tugging lightly, as if they needed to anchor him there. He responded to the touch with a low sound in the back of his throat, a sound that made every cell in your body vibrate.

His hands didn’t stop, exploring your back, moving up and down with a possessiveness that made your heart race even faster. It was as if he was trying to merge the two of you, holding you as if he feared you would disappear. The room seemed to have disappeared; the entire world had been reduced to the heat of his body against yours, to the taste of him, to the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever touched.

When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need of air. But he didn’t pull away, his forehead lightly touching yours, his blue eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath falter.

“I warned you,” he said, his voice husky and full of desire. “I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

And in that moment, it was impossible to tell who was in control. Because no matter how hard he’d pulled you in for the kiss, no matter how hard he’d initiated it, it was you who seemed to have the power to make his heart beat as fast as yours.

[yanderejustforyou]

Can you please do touch started/possesive Sofia Falcone x fem reader? More Sofia being vulnerable and soft when she is alone with her girlfriend

The city outside was unforgiving as always, its chaos mirrored in the harsh lines of Sofia Falcone’s life. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of her penthouse, with you, she let herself be something she couldn’t afford to be anywhere else—soft. Vulnerable.

Sofia positioned herself near the window, her silhouette a striking contrast against the shimmering city lights beyond. Her tailored trousers, perfectly fitted, lent a sharpness to her demeanor—an unyielding nature that demanded respect and admiration. But tonight, with the moonlight cascading over her high cheekbones and emphasizing the intensity of her azure gaze, it was you who captured her attention. It was you who captivated her thoughts as she stood lost in a moment of contemplation, caught between who she was and who she longed to be.

“You don’t have to stand there,” you said gently, patting the plush sofa invitingly next to you, as if to create a bridge between the emotional distance that still hung in the air. The softness of your voice, combined with the warmth radiating from your proximity, wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

Sofia hesitated, her jaw tightening, her posture poised like a soldier preparing for an unseen battle. It was a familiar stance, one that betrayed the conflict nested deep within her—a war between her instincts and the burgeoning feelings that threatened to unravel the careful control she maintained at all times. Mustering her courage, she finally took a step towards you, her footsteps nearly silent against the luxurious fabric of the thick rug underfoot. When she sank down beside you, the closeness of your bodies created an electric yet tender connection. Her thigh pressed against yours, but even in this intimate space, she carried herself with the weight of uncertainty, afraid to fully lean in, to take more than she thought she deserved.

You reached out, your fingers gingerly brushing against hers, a delicate initiation of trust and connection. “It’s okay,” you whispered, the words a soothing balm against the turmoil of her thoughts.

At the touch, her hand twitched under yours—a moment that felt precarious, as if she were teetering on the brink of vulnerability. Just when you feared she might pull away, she defied those expectations, turning her palm upward and lacing her fingers with yours. Her grip was strong, almost desperate, each pulse of her heartbeat echoing the fear that you might vanish if she loosened hold.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, her voice barely rising above the ambient noise of the city outside. It was a raw confession that stripped away the layers of her carefully curated persona, laying bare the trepidation she felt within.

“Do what?” you prompted, though you already suspected the answer.

“Be… this person. With you. It’s not who I am,” she replied, the admission tasting bittersweet on her tongue.

You leaned in closer, resting your head against her shoulder, feeling the rigidity in her frame begin to soften. “It doesn’t have to come naturally. You don’t have to know everything right away. We’ll figure it out together,” you said, leaving no room for her insecurities to fester in silence.

Sofia exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in her body palpable as her free hand rose to brush through your hair. The initial touch was tentative, as if she was afraid of disrupting the fragile moment between you. But when you leaned into her touch, encouraging and warm, she began to relax, her fingers tangling in your locks with an earnestness that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

“You make it sound so simple,” she murmured, a hint of skepticism lacing her voice.

“Because it is,” you assured her, tilting your head to catch her gaze, your eyes earnest. “You’re allowed to want this, Sofia. You’re allowed to want me.”

In that moment, something within her softened, the rigid lines of her carefully constructed facade beginning to crumble under the weight of your sincerity. “You don’t know how dangerous that is,” she replied, her voice tinged with an urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, your fingers tightening around hers, grounding her in the moment. “I don’t care. You’re worth it.”

Then, with a tenderness that felt transformative, Sofia leaned in. Her lips brushed against your forehead in a gentle kiss that felt like a confession, a promise, a step into the unknown beside you. When she pulled back, resting her forehead against yours, her expression was imbued with a longing that went far beyond the physical—a desire rooted deep in the very core of her being, trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

“Stay with me. Just… stay.”

“Always,” you whispered in response, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting embrace.

“Always.”

Sofia’s fingers tightened around you, her hand trembling slightly against yours. You felt the tension in her body—years of restraint, loneliness, and control fighting against the tenderness you offered her so freely. She leaned into you further, her breath warm against your neck.

she whispered, her voice soft but desperate. “Please.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in her tone. You shifted, cupping her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing along her sharp cheekbones. She closed her eyes at the contact, leaning into your palms like someone who hadn’t known warmth in years.

“I’ve got you,” you murmured, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Her breath hitched as you pressed another kiss to her temple, then her cheek, your lips moving with a careful reverence that made her shudder. Her hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice breaking.

“I won’t,” you promised, your lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss.

Sofia melted against you, her hands clutching at your back as though afraid you might disappear. The kiss deepened, her desperation bleeding through in the way her fingers roamed over you, mapping every inch of your body she could reach.

When you finally pulled back, she rested her forehead against yours, her breathing ragged. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, your hands sliding down to rest on her shoulders. “You deserve everything, Sofia. Let me show you.”

Her eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw them unguarded—raw and full of longing. She reached for your hands, bringing them to her lips and pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace that spoke louder than words. Her head rested against your chest, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart against yours.

“Never,” you whispered.

[daydreamingyuta]

Mornings | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, a collection of mornings with Jaehyun over the years as you spend your lives together. word count: 1,127

Saturday August 10, 2019 [7:18 am]

You woke up, having hardly gotten any sleep, but energized as ever. Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend, Jaehyun. You two had just made everything official and your heart was so happy.

You go into the bathroom to do your skincare, and when you walk back into your room, you notice a good morning text from him.

Jaehyun: "Good morning baby! Can't wait to see you today <3"

A single text shouldn't make you this filled with joy, but it's from Jaehyun, so of course it does.

Y/n: "I can't wait either! Do you think we could also get some ice cream afterwards?"

Jaehyun: "We'll do anything you want angel"

You flop back onto your unmade bed, your thoughts filled with how lucky you feel to be Jaehyun's girl. You start to get giggly because you know that, by the end of the date he's going to cup your face into his hands and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, like he always does.

⸻

Sunday November 10th, 2019 [1:17 am]

You were supposed to be at home, already asleep in bed by now, but you and Jaehyun didn't want to leave each other. Each of you making excuses to prolong your date. Now it's one in the morning and you're on a walk, the street lit up by the moonlight. Each step you take, now unconsciously synced with his. Jaehyun hasn't let go of your hand once, and you wish that he never would. While you were enjoying your stroll, his mind was racing, thinking of how to tell you. He knew in his heart that you felt the same way about him, so he decided it would be best to just tell you outright. "Y/n?" He says, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You both stop and turn to face each other, knowing from the tone in his voice that he needs to tell you something important. "I love you." Words cannot describe how your heart feels in this moment. The way he's looking at you, like you're the most precious person in the world to him, was making you melt. "You love me?" You say with a teasing smile, tilting your head slightly. "So much y/n. I can hardly take it." He says, breathlessly. You stand up on your tippy toes and give him the biggest kiss you've ever given him. "I love you too, Jaehyun."

⸻

Sunday December 15th, 2019 [9:12 am]

The slight movement of Jaehyun cuddling more into you was the reason you had woken up. You move to get into a more comfortable position, causing Jaehyun to wrap his arm tighter around you.  “I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Jaehyun says with his morning voice that you couldn’t get enough of.  “Hm, it’s okay. I love cuddling with you in the mornings.” Jaehyun nuzzles his head into your neck, “Me too, baby.” You fall back asleep, thinking about how excited you were that it’s almost your six month anniversary together. You can’t believe that you’ve been together for that long, the time feeling like it was going by so fast. 

⸻

Friday April 16, 2021 [7:32 am]

You knew something was up. You weren't sure what, but Jaehyun and all your friends and family had been acting strange for the past month. Like they all knew something you didn't.

You had just gotten a promotion at work, so maybe they all came together to plan a surprise party for you. But that's not really something you would enjoy and they all know that, so you really had no clue what it could be.

Today, Jaehyun was taking you out on a fancy dinner date, so whatever was going on definitely wasn't happening today.

"Good morning, angel." Jaehyun says, once he sees that you're awake. He's carrying a suit that he must have just picked up from the dry cleaners.

"Did you buy a brand new suit for our dinner?" You ask, confused.

"Yeah." He shrugs, as if getting a new suit was no big deal. As if he didn't have to spend days finding the right one for the special occasion. As if he didn't get the suit tailored to fit him exactly the way he knows you like.

You had more questions, but Jaehyun distracted you from them all by climbing into bed with you and giving you a million little kisses. You were in heaven whenever he did this.

Little did you know, that in only a couple of hours he was going to be down on one knee, in the park that you two visited during your first date, asking you to make him the happiest man on earth.

⸻

Monday May 16, 2022 [10:35 am]

You woke up with the waves coming from right outside your hotel window. You feel around the bed and notice that Jaehyun must have already gotten up. You hear a sound in the bathroom and know that he just got finished with his morning shower.  He comes out of the bathroom with a white robe on, his hair wet and messy, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as handsome in your life.  “Can you believe we got married two days ago, Jae?” You ask, unapologetically staring him down.  “No, I can't." He says, jumping back under the covers with you. "Did my beautiful wife have a good night's sleep?” You rest your chin on his now bear chest. “Yes, I did.” He strokes your hair as he looks down at you. “Should we sleep in on the first day of our honeymoon?” You nod your head yes, adamantly. You come up to press a kiss onto his lips and he cups your face into his hands and kisses you back. He pulls away, but just for a moment to ask you a question. “Do you know how beautiful you are y/n?”

⸻

Monday May 8th, 2028 [7:23 am]

“Mommy!” You hear as your oldest hops onto your bed, waking you up. “Mommy, happy mothers day!” She presses kisses all over you, making sure that you're fully awake. “Thank you sweetheart.” You say, sitting up so you can give her a hug and another kiss. She giggles in your arms and gets close to your ear like she has a secret to tell you.

"We made you something." She whispers.

Soon after, Jaehyun walks through the door, balancing your youngest in one arm and a stack of pancakes in the other.

“Happy mothers day, angel.” Jaehyun tells you as he sits the pancakes down on the bed and leans over to give you a sweet kiss.

[klbwriting]

Finally Home - Jason Todd Blurbs

Meeting the Family/Going to a Gala

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Jason is slowly introducing you to the family but Bruce invites you to an art exhibit to meet them all at once

Notes: took the weekend off, felt like I was forcing myself to write too much and needed a little break, I'm hopefully going to get some more writing done today to make up for it!

Jason had been trying so hard to slowly introduce you to his family. There were so many people and all of them were what Jason would call ‘way too involved’ in his life, mostly because he tried so hard to keep them out of his life. He had started with Barbara because he thought you would like her the most. You were both into technology nerd shit and he knew it would drive Dick nuts if Barbara got to meet you first. Then he’d moved to Tim, one to annoy Dick again, and two because again, tech nerd shit. Finally, he had introduced you to Dick who just happened to have invited Bruce over for dinner the same night Jason was bringing you. Great, if Jason wasn’t so sure you were going to be his last partner, he would have sworn he was never introducing anyone to Dick again, but too late now.

“You must come to the art exhibit I am hosting at the manor,” Bruce had said, making Jason nearly choke on his dinner. You smiled politely and agreed, throwing a reassuring smile to Jason. He swallowed and forced a grimace. Bruce had gotten your information to send the invitation and when Jason dropped you off you bit your lip, clearly bothered by something.

“What?” he asked as he walked you to your door. You looked down, looking a little hurt. “What’s wrong?” Had Dick or Bruce said something? If he found out who hurt you he was putting a bullet in them.

“Well, I just, don’t know why you don’t want me to meet your family?” you said. He realized then that he had hurt you. O great, self-flagellation it was then.

“What do you mean? I am introducing you,” he said, trying desperately not to have to say what he was really thinking. He felt so guilty for feeling this way. But you were so different from the others, so not what they would expect from him. It was almost comical someone like you being with him.

“Are you ashamed of me? Embarrassed? Am I not good enough for them?” you asked. Your eyes were so sad, and you sounded so incredibly hurt, near tears even. Jason gently took your face in his hands, making sure you looked right at him. You were so different, so incredibly out of his league.

“No, no no no no, God you’re too good for them. They don’t deserve you and neither do I,” he said. “I honestly was afraid you would meet them and realize what a damned loser I was and want to run the other direction.” You stared at him.

“For being so incredibly smart and reading so many books, you Jason Todd, are an idiot,” you said, leaning up to kiss him deeply. He kissed you back, still holding your face gently, the warmth of your skin keeping his heart beating. He swore without you he would go back to being dead. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled back and he couldn’t fight the grin on his face.

“I love you too,” he said. “So, you really want to go to that Wayne art festival thing? You’ll have to dress fancy and I’ll have to wear a suit.” You looked him over slowly and raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t wait to see it.”

Jason knocked on your door, dressed in a fine blue suit, hoping that it was the right shade to match your outfit. You had said sapphire so he that’s what he told Bruce when asked for the color for the tailor, and that’s what color he hoped he was wearing. He heard a shuffle on the other side of the door before it opened and he saw you. The most amazing and most gorgeous person he had ever known. Your outfit was sapphire as well, bringing out your eyes, and Jason felt his jaw go slack for a moment. Then your laugh brought him back.

“I guess you like the look?” you asked. He nodded and offered you his arm. You took it and headed to the party.

The entire evening Jason couldn’t keep his eyes off you. You looked so natural and confident, even Damian seemed to like you and he was a demon incarnate. You were stunning in every sense of the word and Jason had no idea how he got so lucky that someone like him, so broken and damaged, had managed to find you, let alone keep you. When he had a moment to leave the boring conversation he was in with the Kane’s he walked over, sliding an arm around your waist.

“May I steal my partner for a few moments?” he asked Stephanie and Cass. Both of them shook their heads.

“No, they’re ours now, we like them” Cass said. Jason shrugged; well guess he was making a scene then. He lifted you up bridal style and carried you towards the gardens, setting you down outside, feeling the eyes from the main room still watching. You had been too shocked to react at first but now you laughed at his antics.

“That was rude Jason!” you said but couldn’t stifle your laughter. He set you down, keeping you close.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, nodding back towards the party where people were back to mingling again. Only Bruce seemed to be watching closely, Jason could feel his eyes on him.

“Well, I don’t understand the art…” you said. Jason let out a grunt.

“No one understands the art and you know that’s not what I was asking about,” he said. You smiled a little.

“I love them, I love all of them, not as much as you, but they are great,” you said. Jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He knew that they all adored you, how could they not, but you loving them was just as important. He could say all he wanted that he wasn’t a ‘real’ member of the family, that when he died that connection died, but he knew he was lying. They were his family and now you were too.