#but the tone just feels. hopeless. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

versupital · 4 months ago

Text

wanna see what your insides look like.ᐟ

JJKHALLOWEEN! chosoxreader

to sum it up. you got tickets to a live Scream experience, where you’ll be chased by the infamous Ghostface through a dark wood. but the idea of being alone with the character arouses you more than it scares you. lucky for you, though, Ghostface is totally on board.

CONTENT (MDNI): friends to lovers, smut, switch!choso, afab!reader, prop knife, fake blood, masochism kindaaa, overstim, 86’d the sorcery (modern au), breeding, exhibitionism

word count. 7k

soundtrack 💿: RUNRUNRUN - dutch melrose

divider @saradika

“Please come, Cho. I need you to come.”

An exasperated breath comes from the other end of the phone. You’re sure your best friend is shaking his head, trying to come up with a way to let you down gently, because he’s incapable of being mean.

“I wanna,” he says honestly. “I know that Scream is our thing… but I’ve gotta take this shift for the extra money. I promise to make it up to you, kay? How about a movie night when I get off?”

You huff. You know this is reasonable collateral, but your heart still aches because you’ll be missing out on the Scream experience with your best friend in the entire world; the only person who truly understands the place the movie series holds in your heart.

“A movie night with face masks,” you correct him.

He grins from the other line. “Deal. Have fun tonight. Tell Satoru to not be a little bitch.”

You grin back. “Level: impossible. But will do. Love you, Cho.”

He pauses for a minute before replying. “I love you too. Later.”

The phone hangs up and you are unable to shake the pressure in your chest. You really shouldn’t be this sad; you’ll be with the rest of your friends. But they aren’t Cho.

You sigh and begin to get dressed; a blood-red low cut tank top, black plaited skirt, ‘nets, and thick running boots. Red lipstick tied everything together, as well as your hair in two ponytails with ribbons.

Hours pass and soon, night falls. Your friends arrive to collect you, and you all make it to the sight of the attraction in no time, both fear and excitement bubbling within you.

You ride down a long, long driveway, nothing but trees surrounding the acre of attractions, stalls and decorations. At the end, there is a large arch with an inflatable ghostface, connected to a giant curtain that serves as an entrance to the woods where the experience takes place.

According to reviews, there are multiple ghostface actors, increasing difficulty for everyone else - but it increases the thrill for you. If you make it to the exit without getting caught, you get your money back and a Ghostface collectible. So as far as you’re concerned, you have no choice but to make it though.

“Quick, shoot it back!"

You gasp as your friend is shoving a tiny liquor bottle into your palm, before reaching into her purse to pass one out to every member of your group. You’re in line now, almost halfway to the start.

Your friend’s insignificant other, Toji, grins wickedly as he takes back three or four of them. You're still nervously holding onto just the one, feeling your mouth water as you imagine the nasty liquor sliding down your throat.

"Ah, look at 'er," Toji clowns, gripping your friend by the waist. "If she's afraid to take a simple shot, she ain't gonna last in there."

"Piss off, Fushiguro," Geto - another member of your group - grits. "Not all of us are hopeless alcoholics like you are."

"And 'm not afraid," you butt in, glaring at Toji. "A bitch can't hesitate?"

“Just drink it, girl,” Toji replies, his tone bored.

You roll your eyes at him before you turn away from the group and quickly take the shot, knowing you're going to need it inside. Because, no thanks to Choso, you’re going to be all alone. Geto is paired with your other friend, Satoru, and your girlfriend has Toji. Geto had offered to ditch Satoru for you, but you like the idea of being by yourself.

So, in short, you'll need a lot of liquid courage to make it through, even though Ghostface is your favorite Halloween character - and you can hardly contain your excitement.

"Alright!" Toji and your friend clap after you turn back around with a grimace.

The line moves forward. Your group is going to start being escorted inside, pair by pair, and you’ll be the last of everyone to enter. You snatch another shot from your friend and take it back, the sinking feeling in your stomach setting in, knowing how close you are to a dream come true.

But what outweighs your fear is your fantasy. Ghostface is hardly scary as he turns you on, like a pervert in heat. You had never built up the courage to ask your exes to wear the mask in bed or anything, but the fact that it had even crossed your mind makes you feel like some kind of freak.

"Step right up, step right up!" A voice booms from the man leading people in through the curtain, pulling you away from your thoughts.

He holds up an imaginary microphone to Toji and your friend.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he asks with a grin.

Their answers conveniently match, which is cute, but not the answer the man was looking for; his face drops.

Then, the man pulls back the curtain to allow them to step through. Now you are alone with Geto and Satoru.

"You better have your arms ready," Satoru says with a nudge to Geto. "The minute anything pops out at me, I’m jumping on you.”

Geto huffs, "Absolutely not. We're not paying fifty bucks a pop for you to cower the whole time." He pauses to glance at you. "Besides, Y/N is literally going in by herself."

"Yeah, 'cause she'd rather die of fright than partner with you," Satoru teases, and Geto simply rolls his eyes.

You are zoning out of their conversation slowly, your heart thumping rapidly in your ears as time draws nearer for you to go inside.

The same routine happens with Satoru and Geto several minutes later; the bouncer asks them for their favorite scary movie before shoving them inside.

You shift your weight nervously, all alone now, your fingers fiddling with the trim of your skirt.

A few minutes pass by, shrieks coming from the other side, making you giggle at just how squeaky Satoru had gotten. Then, after another eternity, the bouncer turns to you.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" he questions, red eye contacts sliding down your body.

"Uh, I don't know," you reply with an innocent shrug.

"Oh come on, you have to have a favorite,” he grins, his face lighting up because someone finally catches his reference. “What comes to mind?"

"Um, Halloween, you know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters," you continue, unable to help smiling back at him.

He nods approvingly and pulls back the curtain, flashing lights on the other side greeting you. You swallow nervously as fog rolls over the floor, a red light at the end of a long walkway.

You carefully walk down, your buzz weighing down on you, but unfortunately not enough to get rid of your fear entirely. You look at the edge of every wall, waiting for something to jump out at you, but it never does.

Nothing happens except for cool air blowing in your face as you walk, hugging your arms, gooseflesh rising on the back of your neck. You begin to feel that this isn’t so bad, but right as you think you've made it out safely, you hear a footstep.

You turn in a flash, but there's nothing there. You know you heard it though.

You shake it off and turn back around, only to see him - standing all but a grave's length away from you.

You jump and shriek a bit as he just stands there, menacingly, in all his Ghostface glory.

You gulp thickly, alcohol lingering in your saliva. You try to come up with a fast plan; you couldn’t go down this easily.

You take a step to the side. He mirrors your actions.

You bring your hands up in defense now, feeling your stomach sink at the thought of what he could possibly do next. He cocks his masked head at an angle, slowly holding up his knife...

As he does this, you bolt right past him. He stands there for a second, possibly stunned, before you hear the crunching of him sprinting after you.

He's hot on your heels. You've exited the safe cushion of the hallway and are now in the middle of darkness, only trees and tall labyrinth-like bushes surrounding you. It’s scary, but it’s exactly what you came for. You’re living an absolute dream.

You dare to glance over your shoulder as your chest becomes tight, your oxygen feeling as though it's being choked out of you.

He's not there.

Your body shakes in fear. It's so exhilarating. You smile sadistically to yourself, deciding to give yourself a break from running.

You run around a tall bush and squat down. You glance from side to side and listen for his footsteps. They're nearby, but there’s lots of bushes around. No way will he be able to pick the exact one you’re squatting behind.

You smirk and stay where you are, on your hands and knees. His footsteps get closer, and you hold your breath.

You can see him now through the branches in the bush, his shoulders bucked as he is equally on guard as you are. He stops to look around, listening for you.

You lose your balance and take a step back, crack!

His head whips in your direction, the permanent scream etched into the mask giving your cunt its own pulse.

You let out a deep breath and back up, still crouching, as he starts to come around the bush.

You make a run for it.

Trees seem to taunt you as you zigzag through the darkness, your boots crunching twigs and dead leaves.

You realize too late that you are lost.

You can’t keep running. Your breath is slowly disappearing.

You think you may have a moment of sanctuary, so you find a bush, a tall bush that has no visibility - but that also fortunately means you cannot see if he’s near.

You squat low to the ground and pant as quietly as you can. You’re enjoying yourself, but unfortunately without a partner, you have no way to discuss strategy. You don’t know what to do next.

But that’s when you hear it.

Crunch!

Someone is nearby, but you can’t see how nearby.

You figure you may have time to run again; the issue is that you still can hardly breathe.

But, another part of you writhes in the idea of being caught. You know realistically, though, that they aren’t allowed to touch you, but God do you wish for the opposite.

You swallow down the burn in your throat from running. You need to move.

You turn your back for a split second to look for a new hiding spot - your eyes land on a gap in foliage nearby. You turn back to stand straight, but to your horror a new Ghostface is there, standing tall over you; bare, toned abs covered in blood glistening under the moonlight. You feel your breath hitch and you yelp again.

"Surprise, Sidney," he beams, his voice a little raspy and - dare you say, familiar.

You swallow again before ripping an exaggerate shriek, scrambling to stand up, backing away as you do so, before thump! your spine hits the bark of a tree you swore wasn’t there a second ago. You’re trapped between bushes and trees.

Your chest heaves as you try to back up farther against the tree, but to no avail, and the half-naked Ghostface creeps closer. His hand with the fake knife is raising slowly, which you know is for dramatic effect. But on account that you know he can’t really stab you, you wonder what his plan is once he reaches you.

You whine, shaking your head with a quivering lip, wondering if you can fight, or run. But instead you become distracted as you take another look at him.

God, his stomach is carved into perfect shapes of abdominal muscle. You're so enticed by such art that you don't even notice him putting a hand right behind your head.

Your lips part in surprise once you register the closeness, and your back arches against the tree, as if that would move you farther away from him.

He takes his knife and presses the tip to your chin - using force to point your face towards him, and you make eye contact with the two soulless pits he has for eyes.

"What do you suppose I ought to do with you now, hmm?" he questions lowly, tilting his head to the side.

You swallow thickly, hands scrambling behind you against the bark of the tree. The next group should be arriving soon - right? You wonder how long you will be alone with him. You don't think you'll make it if he keeps you pinned to the tree like this.

"Let me go," you suggest, voice hoarse from fright, and lust.

"Well sheesh, Y/N, that's lame," the voice suddenly raises a few octaves and is much more playful than before. "I mean - goddamnit."

"You-” you cut yourself on in astonishment. “How do you…?”

"I fucking ruined it," he growls. "I'm so stupid."

Suddenly, he's breaking away from you, his knife falling from your face. You watch in actual horror as he uses his free hand to lift up his mask - revealing the angelic face of your best friend. Choso.

"Cho, what the fuck?" you gasp, your fright immediately dissolving into... embarrassment, but masking it in the form of annoyance. "You dick, what are you doing here?"

"I told you that I had to work," he says meekly, "I thought it would be fun to play Ghostface, but I mostly thought you’d enjoy it.”

You feel a little bad after that, he’s entirely too sweet. But you can't help but wonder what he’s implying.

"I... do enjoy seeing you as Ghostface," you admit, but you're embarrassed because you know he saw you ogling the fuck out of his abs. "But... you went through all this trouble for me?"

"Mhmm," Choso nods proudly, his hair falling boyishly over his forehead. "What, you don't like it?"

"No, I-I..." you taper off, unsure of what you want to say next. "It’s just, why are you shirtless? You did that for me too?”

As his face heats, his cheeks turn apple red. “Maybe.”

Oh, he’s terrible. This new knowledge does not help the tingling at the meeting of your thighs.

His embarrassed face changes to a grin after seeing the expression on your face, and he takes a step closer to you again. "So, you forgive me for bailing on you then, yeah?”

“Mm, not quite,” you frown. “You think you can just flash your sexy pecs and toned stomach at me and I’ll forget that you left me here all alone?”

You see each word hit Choso, but you try to look past it, as you’re only speaking to him like this to rile him up. Because now, your nerves are on fire, lust filling up your body. He’s so close, why is he standing so close? You can smell him; a heavenly mix of wood, musk, and corn syrup.

He smelled like your Choso, who’s body fit perfectly against yours when you cuddled, who’s silky hair slid through your fingers when you played with it, who’s laugh is extremely contagious. You try not to make it obvious that you’re inhaling deeply, breathing him in for what felt like the first time.

Damned the alcohol, you think to yourself. Making you look at your friend with such feelings you’ve been swallowing for months. But you just can’t help it…

“You think my pecs are sexy?” Choso asks, but he’s not grinning. He looks genuinely shocked.

You don’t reply and instead smile at his innocence. “And not to mention, did you not even see how scared I was?”

“I did, but,” Choso admits, “I… I’m probably some kind of sick freak, because-“

“Because you liked it?” you finish for him, and his moon-colored face somehow grows whiter.

He nods carefully.

“I feel the same way,” you reply, taking a shaking hand and planting it right over his heart. You feel the pec flex as he responds to your touch. “Why haven’t you dressed up f’me before?”

Choso’s Adam’s Apple bobs harshly in his throat. “I…I thought you’d be weirded out.”

“No,” you said softly, “it’s amazing, Choso. That you enjoy my interests enough to go out of your way like this.”

“Well, of course,” he scoffs, shaking his hair from his eyes. “I would do anything to make you happy.”

“Like what?” you coo, tilting your head to the side, sliding your hand across his chest to grip his thick arm.

“Y/N,” Choso breathes, his eyes fluttering shut. “You h-have to stop touching me like that.”

“Not till you answer my question,” you say.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning towards you more, as if he wants to put his head on your shoulder. “I am a man of little words. I don’t know what it is that women like.”

“Well, I promise I’m not that complicated,” you reply, sliding your hand up the side of his neck to rest on his jaw. He nuzzles his cheek into your touch.

“No, but you might not want what it is that I really want to do to you,” Choso spits out suddenly, his words coming fast and nervously.

“To me?” you ask, astonished.

He grunts and shifts his weight uncomfortably. “For you. I-I meant for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you tug your bottom lip with your top teeth - his words traveling straight to your cunt. You couldn’t take much more of this. “How do you know I don’t want it unless you try?”

“Because,” Choso grits suddenly, jerking his head away from your face. “All the guys say you’d never go for someone like me. They say I wouldn’t know what to do with you.” He pauses to sigh. “They may be right but, nonetheless, I wanna see you scream and run like you did a second ago. It just got me so…”

He grunts uncomfortably, and you try to pretend you don’t notice the freakishly long bulge in his costume pants.

“You know everything about me,” you frown, dropping your hand. “You shouldn’t have listened to them.”

“Well, we are just friends,” he replies nervously. “Didn’t want to do anything you don’t want.”

You scoff, “What could you possibly wanna do? You know my limits.”

Choso bites his lip. “But I want to… to push the limits really hard. Especially since,” he pauses and glances around. “We are alone.”

“Push them, then,” you say, and you swear Choso’s eyes are going to pop free from their sockets. “Let’s say I run and hide again. If you can find me…” you pause to smile. “All limits are off.”

You blink up at him innocently, wanting to run your hand over his bulge just as a tease - but you refrain. You had plenty of tricks ready for him.

Choso’s eyes flash and he looks down at the ground for a second. When his head lifts again, desire has overcome his pupils, and he’s smirking.

“Better run then, Sidney. I will not be merciful.”

You take a deep breath before peeling yourself off of the tree and beginning a sprint. Your stomach is knotted with excitement. You have no idea what’s going to happen, but you can’t believe Choso’s down for… whatever it is.

You must have been dreaming. This would change things between you and Choso forever, but maybe that was for the better. Maybe the two of you needed to do this to break the friendzone, even if it was in the form of some kind of sick game of chase in the middle of a forest.

You run and run. You run until you can’t even see the actual attraction anymore; where there had previously been signs to let you know you were still in the bounds of the game, there’s none now.

You may very well be lost but you’re also away from possibly being seen by anyone. Totally not intentional.

You smirk as you find a new spot, and plant yourself there. You should have a few minutes before Choso catches up.

You take your phone out of your pocket. Barely any signal, but enough to see that the group chat is on fire.

Toji

There’s absolutely no reason I should hear Gojo screaming like a bitch from out here 😂

Satoru

ok, im hiding rn, and there’s people everywhere.

besides suguru left me ☹️

Geto

Yes because you were compromising my hiding place with your fuck ass breathing. 👍🏼

Y/F/N

Well, Suguru just made it, so now where are you?

And Y/N?

Satoru

there’s literally nothing but trees ????

but i think i see the lights at the exit

Toji

mentioned you in the chat: You got ma girl here worrying bout you , are u alive???

Satoru

Y/N wya so you can help me out of here 😭🙏🏼

You

im trying to stay off my phone, take notes

Satoru

nah hell nah. i need my phone out in case i need to call 911.

Toji

The cops can’t do shit for u 😭

Y/F/N

mentioned you in the chat: Are you lost?

Choso

Guys did you leave her alone?! Wtf

Nanami

Yeah, you guys are sick.

Satoru

im not hearing shit from the two mfs who decided not to come.

Geto

I offered to go with her -.-

You

i can see the exit guys. im fine you lie.

Satoru

i can see the exit too. i don’t see u. sure ur in the right place?

Geto

I can see your hair, Satoru.

Satoru

FUCK HE FOUND ME

Geto

As could anyone with eyes -.-

Y/F/N

Satoru just came out screaming so loud he woke up a baby. Now they’re crying together 😭

Choso

Guys focus. What did you do to Y/N

You

im fine cho <3

Satoru

AWWWW

Toji

Brotha eughhhh

Y/F/N

Okay, we’re going to play some of the games. Call us when you make it to the exit or if we haven’t heard from you, we’re coming in bitch!

Nanami

Good. At least you all have a plan.

Your phone continues to buzz, but you don’t reply. You sigh, silently thanking Choso for playing along with you in the chat.

“Seems like your friends are looking for you,” a voice suddenly breathes, muffled from the mask.

Your breath hitches as you lock your phone and it falls to the forest floor.

“You found me so fast,” you say with a gulp, turning to face him.

“Didn’t wanna waste precious time,” he says with a chuckle. “Now, what’s that you said? All limits are off? I can do whatever I want?”

You smirk as you turn to face him. “Does widdle Cho even know what he wants?” you mock.

You can’t see his face under the mask, but his body responds to you: his shoulders tense and his head leans forward.

“You,” he says quietly. “On my cock.”

You bite your lip, “Oh? How?”

He grunts and steps forward, before taking your throat between his fingers. His squeeze is soft, not enough to take your breath but enough to force your head still.

“Need your pretty lips on it,” he replies. “Wanna smear your lipstick. Always love when you get dolled up, but too bad y’gonna look a mess when I’m finished.”

You whine a bit in response and hold his wrist, looking directly at the eyes of the mask. “Where’s this side been hiding?”

“Told you already,” he grunts, “didn’t wanna scare you off with the twisted things I think about doing to you.”

You groan at the way his words are flooding straight to your panties. You thank your past self for wearing a skirt, it’s going to be so ridiculously easy to slide out of it.

“You think some head is twisted?” you grin. “Maybe they were right when they said you couldn’t handle me.”

This earns you a deep growl as he uses his grip on your throat to force you to slide down, until your knees hit the hard earth. You hiss in pain but ultimately don’t care, as he releases your throat and uses his knife to tip your face up towards him.

At this angle, he’s delicious. Solid stomach stares at you from just inches away and the mask on his shoulders makes your thighs quench with desire.

“I mean face fucking you until you’re gasping for air,” he grits, “‘Choso, no’ you’d say, but I can’t understand you with a mouth full of dick, hmm?”

You blink up at him, too stunned to reply. Your lips part in expectancy, and your hands shoot out to lay flat against the top of Choso’s thighs.

He’s doing such a fantastic job of catering to your disgusting fantasy that you can’t help but slither your hands up to the top of his waistband before he can say another word. You want to please him so bad, wanna be good for your Choso.

He stands and watches, still as air. His chest rises and falls as he breathes, the mask still staring down at you, but it makes things hotter knowing that on the other side of the mask is Choso’s stare.

Your fingers tuck into the waistband of the black pants.

Choso lets out a small noise. “I-I’m supposed to be the one in control, not fair.”

You grin but do not halt your movements. Your fingers begin tugging, tugging, tugging down the pants - along with his boxers.

You watch as his length slowly gets revealed until it inevitably pops out - slapping against his stomach before hanging erect in alignment with your face.

You take in a deep breath, and Choso appears to be holding his own. You examine his cock, just to make him nervous. He’s got a very thin amount of hair that leads from the trail on his stomach, the length itself being veiny and darker than him; skinny at the base, but fat and terrifying at the pink tip.

“I knew it’d would be this pretty,” you hum, “pretty cock on a pretty boy.”

Choso’s hips shift as he knocks himself forward so that the tip grazes your chin, leaving a faint residue of his sticky precum. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Th-Thank you,” he whimpers, “need your throat.”

He leans down to take one of your pigtails into each hand. He is not gentle now, his grip being harsh enough to make you yelp; when you do, he stuffs his dick right between your red lips.

Your eyes flutter closed immediately at the feeling of a full mouth. You carefully wrap your lips around him as he slowly shoves his hips forward until he’s barely halfway in, and his tip kisses the back of your throat.

You stick your tongue out so that it can glide against the sensitive underside of his cock. He notices and his head tilts back.

“S-So warm,” he moans out, sitting stagnant for a minute, before looking down at you.

You hum a bit, knowing the vibrations feel good against his tip, and he thanks you by sliding his cock back out of your mouth and ramming it back in.

You gag and your mouth gets watery, drool leaking out of the corners and covering every inch of him that you are able to take. His thrusts start getting faster, smearing your lipstick all along the length of him, his grip on your hair never loosening.

His little moans are so delicious; soft whines as he uses your face for his pleasure.

“Doin’ s-so much better than I imagined,” he mutters out, and though you love looking up and seeing the mask, you desperately want to see his innocent face twisted up as he experiences this ungodly amount of pleasure.

“Mmh-” you moan around him.

You’re still in awe that this is happening. You’d had plenty of opportunities to do things like this with him, but you’d never been sure he would go for it. You guess you can’t blame him for feeling the same way, because how were either one of you going to ask for a face fuck?

All that doesn’t matter anymore because everything in this moment is perfect, including him. Your Choso.

You take your hand and wrap it around the base at the part that doesn’t fit in your mouth. You take him out of your mouth to plop a pool of spit there and slide your hand up and down for a minute, giving your jaw a break.

“Take off the mask for a second,” you say to him, now that you can speak.

He obeys immediately. The mask is gone, hanging from the hand that doesn’t have a fist full of your hair.

Your lips part at seeing his perfect face, fucked out, twisted in astonishment.

“Back in,” he demands softly, tugging your pigtail.

You blink as you obey and slide your mouth back over his length. You keep your face angled upwards to look at him, and he’s staring down at you like you’re both the most amazing thing he’s ever seen and the best thing he’s ever felt.

You lather up your saliva as you continue trying to go down as far as you can, taking his cock down your throat, which unlocks a new noise from Choso that gets your cunt pounding harder.

You twist your hand over the base and hollow your mouth out to squeeze your cheeks around his sensitive skin. By now your face is covered in drool, spit bubbles all around his tip, saliva dripping onto the earth below you.

Choso loses it and leans forward, releasing your hair and dropping his mask, placing his hands on the trunk of the tree. Now his hips are thrusting, hard - the bottom of his stomach kissing the tip of your nose as he fucks your face.

“Hah - oh,” he whines as he uses your mouth. “Th-Think ‘mgonna cum already.” He sounds sad, and you smile on his dick.

You don’t say anything back but you grumble deep in your throat again, knowing it’s going to drive him insane.

But he quickly pulls his cock back out of your mouth with a deep breath as if his head had been underwater.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not till I get to make you feel good, too.”

“I did feel good,” you say hoarsely, wiping saliva and lipstick from your face. “Liked pleasing you.”

Choso groans and shakes his head, his chest heaving rapidly. “Stand up for me,” he says gently.

You miss rough Choso already.

You obey though, standing back tall, almost eye level to him in your thick boots.

He doesn’t waste any time; in a flash he’s latched himself onto you, hands pressing into your thighs and he slides them up slowly towards your hips. He tilts his head to the side as you find your back hitting the tree - again, this time, circumstances much different.

“Can’t believe my pretty best friend wants me to fuck her,” he speaks, voice sultry with lust. “Sounds too good to be true.” He leans forward again and lets his nose brush yours, and you shiver with a deep sigh.

“I want you so much,” you say pathetically, bringing your arms over his shoulders and digging your fingertips into the hair behind his head.

His brows furrow in pleasure and you keep speaking.

“In different ways,” you say, “not just to fuck me. But right now… that’s all I want. Please, I need it. Need you.”

“Such a good girl when you beg,” Choso’s voice is soft, but firm, “you never have to beg with me, but I love hearing it. Keep going.”

“Please.”

“Yes?”

“Please, Choso.”

“Choso what?”

“Mmh - god, I hate you.”

“Love you most.”

You go to fire back, but he shuts you up with a harsh crash of his mouth against yours. His warm, wet lips mold right into yours, sliding effortlessly together. Your hands shoot out to his shoulders and he keeps his hands on your hips, gripping them like you’re going to disappear if he doesn’t maintain his hold on you.

Your name leaves his lips in soft little pants as he tilts his head to the side, forcing your lips apart with his tongue before he slides the wet muscle inside so deep that you can feel it on the back of your throat.

You suck on his tongue and he grunts thanks into your mouth. Your hands are running wildly over each other, as if you could crawl inside one another’s skin, two souls joining as one.

He breaks away and gasps, and you grab him by his hair and force his head to an angle. He allows you to then leave sloppy, red kisses all over his neck. His eyes flutter closed as you pleasure him, knowing your innocent baby must feel so good.

You pull back and blink at the mess on his neck.

“Cho, it left stains, I…”

“Don’t care,” he hisses, “brand me all you want. Want everyone to know, that in some way, you own me.”

His big hands whip you around suddenly, like you’re nothing but a ragdoll; now your cheek is planted against the tree and your hands are digging into the bark for stability.

Choso rips up your skirt, and presses his bare, wet cock right to your backside.

“Always fuck my pillow while I moan for you, y’know,” he grunts, reaching his arm around the front of your waist, tugging the thin material that are your panties to the side. “Then you come over and lay your pretty head all in my cum, leaving your scent, and I do it again. Can’t get enough, just love you so much.”

You gasp as he talks, the quake of desire making your legs tremble as Choso’s fingers start circling your clit. Your best friend - so sweet and cute - knew exactly where to find it. You cry out.

You want to pretend you’re disgusted at him making you sleep on his cum, but you really don’t care. You find the thought exhilarating, wondering how many times he’d done that, while smiling innocently next to you.

“Y-You’re so - mmh,” a moan cuts you off as he applies more pressure to your clit. “You fuck yourself to me? My good boy.”

Choso whines before he begins panting against the back of your neck, pathetically rubbing himself against your fishnets, leaving slimy trails of his precum and your saliva all over your ass. He’s keeping the same rhythm with his hips as his fingers on your bundle of nerves, and just when you think nothing can feel any better, he starts to push his dick between your thighs.

You feel his cock slide over your clothed pussy over and over, meeting his fingers at your clit as he swirls them expertly.

Your eyes roll back as you try desperately to reach your high, but you need him to stop teasing you. And fast.

“Choso, please,” you cry, pushing your hips back against him, the sound of your skin meeting his pelvis cracking like the twigs under your feet.

“What is it, my love?” he coos hotly in your ear. “What do you want? Anything, you got it.”

“Ngh - you, goddamnit,” you growl now, frustration overcoming your softness for your best friend. “Who taught you to tease like this?”

Choso chuckles in your ear, “My dear, you did.”

You gasp as he pulls his hands and his cock away from you suddenly. “H-How did I-”

“Mmh, did you think I wasn’t listening to you whenever you’d come over and tell me about your hookups?” he questions softly, taking a step back and you realize he’s going to collect his mask. “It hurt, believe me, but I’ve been taking notes. Wanted to ensure I could make you happier than those other losers.”

You realize this means Choso’s been thinking of fucking you for way longer than you can comprehend. You can hardly blame him; though it came later, you’d had the same awful thoughts of him, but you were able to control it. You’d talked yourself out of it, that is, until tonight - with the liquor in your system.

“You make me happier without fucking me, y’know,” you grin, as his presence returns behind you.

“Oh,” his voice drops, “s-so you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

You gasp and shake your head. Now isn’t the time to be second guessing things, you were deep in heat and Choso would be traumatized if you had to stand here any longer, your cunt dripping uncontrollably down your thighs.

“I want to, mmh,” you hiss, “‘m just saying, you make me happy in general. But… I wouldn’t know if you can fuck me as good as the others, would I?”

Choso growls at this. His fingertips find the edge of your panties and he pulls them over once again - your body jerks at the reunion of his hands on your skin.

“Not as good,” he corrects, “better.”

His dick finds your folds again, thigh fucking you for several moments to lubricate himself in your warm juices. You end up standing on your toes at the shiver that ensues from this, your back arching against him.

He takes a deep breath, and finally, pressure hits your hole as his pretty tip pushes through the threshold.

The first thing either of you says is a dramatic “fuck,” as Choso pauses with just the tip in.

“Why y’stopping?” you panic.

“Hah - the guys said if it’s really tight, you’re not ready f’me,” Choso says sadly.

He almost goes to move his hips back out when you shove yours against him, sliding yourself down several inches of cock.

“Just gotta give me a sec to adjust, Cho,” you say, growing angrier at a second mention of the cockblockers. “Y’so big.”

“Not big, you’re just tight like this,” he groans. “M-Might not last long.”

“‘s okay,” you say, biting your lip, knowing you’ve been brewing a devilish plan in your head the entire time - so if he cums fast, that has nothing to do with you. “Fill me up, please.”

Choso wastes no time bowing to your request. He takes his arms and wraps them around your body, planting his hands on your stomach, where he hikes up your shirt and your breasts fly out of their restraint - your bra.

“Mmh, mmh,” Choso’s mumbling behind you as he thrusts his entire length up into your cervix, dragging himself back out as slowly as he wants, before shoving his cock back in hastily.

His fingers are gently twisting your nipples now, this combined with the cold breeze from the woods has goosebumps rising all over you.

You whine a pathetic “Choso. My Choso,” as his pace quickens; his sheer amount of girth perfectly passing over the sensitive ridges in your canal. At the angle, his dick is curving up into your g-spot, making your cunt wetter; inflaming the urge to squirt all over him.

Choso is grunting like it’s his first time feeling a real pussy. He digs his fingers into the soft skin of your breasts for leverage and continues drilling his hip bones into your ass.

You decide to look back at him. The mask is on his face, which makes your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. One of his hands leaves your breast and finds your pigtail - yanking your head so that you’re forced to keep looking at him. You thank him by meeting the wrecking force of his hips with your own.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, his head falling back. “Fuck this cock, s’all yours. Doing so good-“ he cuts himself off with a whine. “Been in love with you for years, but now I know you got this good ass-” a grunt cuts him off, “ngh - fuck, and we’re just friends? I’m supposed to share this with other people?”

You laugh at him before your smugness is cut off with a moan. “N-Not anymore,” you answer, “I’m yours now, Choso.”

“All mine?” he echoes, driving an extra deep thrust into you for emphasis.

“Yours,” you repeat, “how do you feel about that?”

Choso growls and leans his torso forward, the delicate curve in your back sliding perfectly against his stomach and chest. “Like this.”

Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!

His pace grows quicker, harder. You can’t believe you’re still standing with the amount of pleasure he’s inflicting on your poor insides. Each time his tip hits the opening to your uterus, you sulk out a pathetic cry, but he’s not showing mercy. Your sweet best friend could care less how bad it hurts - and you love it.

“Need you to be meaner,” you groan, “more often. Fuck. Needed this so bad.”

“Yeah? Y’like that?” Choso buzzes, pulling your head towards him even harder. “Like me tearing up your guts?”

“S’much,” you are barely able to moan, let alone speak as white spots appear in your vision. “Wanna c-cum.”

“Mmh - not yet,” Choso purrs, hand falling from your hair, then leaning his head over your shoulder so that you can see a glimpse of the creepy Ghostface mask out of the corner of your eye. “Already gonna cum? Thought you were stronger than this.”

“Ngh - usually,” you whine pathetically, “but you - you feel so good.”

“I know,” Choso grins, slamming himself into you several times in a row before slowing his strokes to an agonizing pace.

You’re still convinced this is a dream you have yet to wake from. To think, he was afraid to even make the first move. Now you’re bent over, middle of the darkness, crying out his name as he fucks your brain against your skull. You can’t think, can’t feel anything besides your needy hole being filled and then some.

“O-Oh,” Choso grunts, “‘kay, maybe you can cum, ‘cause I don’t think ‘mma make it.”

“Oh, really?” you taunt, giggling, now using force from the tree to throw your whole body back against his.

“Y-Y/N, no,” he complains, his hands flying to your hips as if they’re reigns he needs to hang onto.

You ignore him, using all the strength in your legs to fuck back onto him, your pace fast - till you feel the twitch in his cock and his moans become louder than yours.

“No!” Choso shouts fakely, before trying to pull himself out of you, but you follow him with your hips and he lets his spurts of cum splash uncontrolled all over your walls.

You grin greedily because you’re not finished with him. You reach next to you and rip off his mask, wanting to see your plan unfold in his facial features.

Your hips don’t stop, even as Choso’s cock twitches and shakes inside of you, and his hands are leaving bloody nail-shaped crescents on your hips by now from the amount of pressure he’s putting on them.

“Hah - hah - ngh, mmm, n-noooo,” he whines, his head falling limp on your shoulder as you continue to swirl your hips on his cum-covered dick, using him to get your orgasm.

“Such a good boy, Cho,” you purr in his ear, “letting me use your cock however I want? Dressing up to get my attention? Fucking me exactly how I asked? S-So good.”

“Th-then why are you punishing me,” he stutters, his teeth sinking into your bare shoulder as overstimulation floods him.

“‘M not, Cho baby,” you say softly, “I need to cum too. Not fair only you get to finish, is it?”

“I-I was gonna help you,” he says, his voice muffled from his face buried in your shoulder.

He drives his point home by reaching up to your clit, using his fingers to rotate little devilish circles over the spot. You feel your stomach light itself on fire.

“Agh - can’t take it,” Choso groans. “‘m gonna cum again.”

You can barely hear him, because you’re so cockdrunk that your senses are gone. All that exists in your mind’s eye is Choso’s hand and his cock, both pleasuring you in different ways.

“‘M cumming!” you chant together, full body compulsions overcoming you both as you clench around him - milking every last drop of his second orgasm out as your own ripples through your veins.

You hear squelching as Choso gasps, and you’re vaguely aware of your pussy gushing, but you can’t find it in you to care as you’re still trying to stop grunting and shaking.

“Oh god,” you manage to rasp, your limp body falling towards the tree as Choso lets go of you.

He collapses against the tree next to you and slowly lifts up his pants as his chest heaves; the world silent around you, save for both of your breathing.

Moments pass and nothing is said, just a silent agreement in the air that the two of you need to gently float off back to the ground.

But then, Choso’s curious voice pierces the bubble.

“I-Is it bad that I…” Choso gestures to you. “Finished in you like that? N-never done that before, but it felt so nice.”

“No,” you answer, your voice ringing in your ears. “Nothing bad will happen, I take a pill to prevent that. Don’t worry. You can do that as much as you want and whenever you want.”

Choso nods, “Can’t even think about doing it again right now.”

He’s so fucked. You are too, feeling like you can’t get your brain to speak to your bones. You can’t move. All you can do is blink away your high and catch your breath, stars still dancing along your vision.

But after a while, you’re able to pry yourself off of the tree, and the two of you clean each other up as best as you can - Choso wipes his bloody hand print off of your throat, but when you try to get your lipstick off of his neck, he fights you.

“No,” he says sharply, “leave it.”

You feel your face heat. “Choso, everyone’s gonna know.”

“That we made out and you kissed my neck,” he grins, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your nose.

And just like that, your best friend, the person you love more than anything else has you wrapped around his finger and ready to obey his commands. His softness has returned for good.

The two of you find yourselves walking hand in hand through the woods, ecstasy surrounding you in your own little bubble.

You pull out your phone and alert your friends that you’re approaching; and when you two reach the gate, the whole group is standing there - Satoru munching on orange and black popcorn, Toji holding a stuffed panda with blood stains, Geto examining his nails, and Y/F/N slurping a giant purple drink.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Toji bursts out, almost immediately after seeing you two approach.

“I know you’re fucking lying,” Y/F/N adds, almost dropping her drink.

“You motherfuckers were in there FUCKING?” Satoru shouts, popcorn flying from his fingers in disbelief.

Choso turns beet red. “N-No, what?”

“Yep,” you nod, contradicting him. “Nasty, rough, raw sex.”

“RAW IS CRAZY!”

“Oh my GOD-”

“Hot.”

Everyone turns to look at Geto in disbelief.

“What? You mean to tell me you guys didn’t consider fucking in the woods?” he questions Toji.

“Well, I asked,” Toji says, scratching the back of his neck. “She said we’d get caught.”

Your friend kicks him in the leg.

“They didn’t,” Satoru points out. “You freaks. Choso, we didn’t even know you were here.”

“Right,” Choso nods. “That was the point.”

Satoru bursts into laughter which prompts the rest of the group to giggle.

“Also, we were wrong,” Toji admits suddenly. “We always tell him he can’t do shit with Y/N… but he managed to tame the beast. Well done, soldier.”

Choso rolls his eyes. “I-It’s not… I didn’t… she-”

“Well, anyways, I’m feeling rather… sobered now,” you cut him off, adjusting your shirt, unaware everyone can see the red marks Choso left on your sides, as well as the giant hole in your fishnets. “Say we grab some drinks?”

“Sounds nice,” Choso confirms.

“Oh I’m sure it does,” Toji snickers. “Gonna get her drunk again for round two?”

“Toji!”

“Ewww!”

“Nobody wanted to hear that!”

You giggle quietly next to Choso before you look up at him, only to see he’s already smiling down at you, disheveled hair and all.

“I love you, Sidney,” he coos.

“I love you more, Cho.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #choso kamo #jjk choso #ghostface #scream #ghostface smut #ghostface scream #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso my beloved

2K notes · View notes

shuafiles · 11 days ago

Text

lie to girls [l.jn]

you don't have to lie to girls. if they like you, they'll just lie to themselves.

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | it was hard watching jeno struggle with his relationship, but it was even harder when he ran to you for comfort every time. especially when you, his long-time best friend, have been in love with him for the longest time. but when jeno starts lying about where he’s going and who he’s with, you realize the biggest lie might be the one you’re telling yourself—that he’ll ever choose you. or girls will cry, and girls will lie, and girls will lose their goddamn minds for you.

PAIRING | bff!jeno x afab!reader (x univ student!jaemin)

CONTENT | university!au, best friends to ?, angst, infidelity (no i do not condone this), swearing, miscommunication, drinking, smut (fingering, oral [f receiving], nipple play, unprotected sex [dont do this], dirty talk, few degrading names, perv!jeno, voyeurism? [listening in], masturbation, cream pie), lowercase intended, doesn’t end in angst

FEATURING | nct dream, nct 127’s jaehyun, aespa’s karina & winter, le sserafim’s chaewon & yunjin, txt’s soobin, the boyz’s eric

WORDS | 25.9k

PLAYLIST | lie to girls – sabrina carpenter, everytime – ariana grande, focus – niki, wildflower – billie eilish, cry – cigarettes after sex

A/N | quick disclaimer that this is all fiction, and my depiction of the characters i used is far from reality. i wanted to make the characters (mostly y/n and jeno) a bit flawed but idk dont think too heavily and please read with an open heart and mind. enjoy! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated (leaving feedback would be great!) <3

“hey.” jeno greeted you, standing at your front door, which only meant one thing. they fought again.

you pushed the door wider, letting him inside. he looked like a mess, his shoulders slumped, dark bags around his eyes, hair disheveled. even from afar, you could tell he was going through something. his phone was in his hand, checking for notifications, but he let out a huge sigh when the home screen was empty.

“do i even want to know?” you prodded, eyes watching him as he plopped down on the couch. his head tilted back on the headrest, mind filled with thoughts.

“you know how she is.” jeno mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. “said she needed some space.”

unfortunately, i do know how she is. jeno’s girlfriend, karina. they’ve been together since first year of college when jeno met her at some random party. they were the kind of couple on campus that, at first glance, seemed perfect, but you knew all too well what kind of chaos haunted them in private. you were too familiar with how she behaved with jeno; most of the time, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

jeno didn’t even have to say anything when you saw him at your front door. you have grown accustomed to this pattern: the same heartache, apologies, and cycle of hope and disappointment. and every time it occurred, jeno ended up here—at your door, at your couch, sulking.

you wanted nothing more than to scold jeno for letting himself get run over by her, but you kept your lips sealed. deciding that giving him comfort and support was what he needed right now.

“again, huh?” you sat down on the opposite side of him, tucking your legs beneath you.

“i don’t even know what that means, y/n.” jeno sighed, running his hand through his hair. he lifted his head to face you, gaze soft as he held eye contact with you. “one minute, everything’s perfect, and we’re fine, but suddenly, i’ve apparently done something wrong, and she won't even tell me.” his voice cracked, hopelessness evident in his tone. it pained you to see him like this. how many times is he going to let her do this to him?

“well, did you do something wrong?” you asked, but you knew jeno too well, he wouldn’t do anything to sabotage his relationship. sure, he has made mistakes in the past, but he was a good person, a good friend, and a good lover, you suppose.

jeno stayed silent for a moment, recalling if he had done something to make his girlfriend upset. “i–no, at least i don’t think so.” he shook his head, “i’ve just been busy with classes, but i always make time for her. and everything we’re together, i always try to make it special. you know?”

you nodded along to his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you have heard this story countless times, you could probably recite it to him. it wasn’t unusual for karina to act like this; she’d get upset over something vague, and then jeno would beat himself up for it, but he’d still bend over backward to get her back.

“maybe she’s just going through something?” you said, trying to think of what to say to ease his mind.

you and karina were acquaintances at best. it’s not like you didn’t try to be her friend, but something about her attitude seems so off-putting. you weren’t entirely sure if karina was fond of you either. of course, you never told jeno any of these. you knew he wouldn’t listen, not when it comes to her. he loves her. he’d return to her every time, like a moth to a flame. and you’d be there, picking up the pieces when he got burned.

“i wish she’d just tell me what’s on her mind instead of leaving me wondering what i did wrong.” his face twisted into frustration with a mix of confusion.

“jen, you know i can’t help you if you don’t tell her what you’re feeling.” this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you’re supposed to tell her these, not me.”

jeno flinched at your words, somehow unsatisfied with your advice. “yeah… you’re right.”

you watched his expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he was deep in thought. “i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.” you hesitated, knowing you were treading dangerous waters. “i just think… you deserve someone who actually appreciates you.”

jeno stayed silent, processing your words as if he hadn’t told himself that a million times. but for some stupid reason, he couldn’t keep it in his head. he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen once more, but to his disappointment, there was still nothing. “i know you’re just looking out for me, y/n. but… i just can’t give up on her. not yet.”

and just like that, you could feel him slipping away, back into her orbit, leaving you alone with all the things you couldn’t say, wondering when he would run back to you again.

“class dismissed.” the professor announced loudly, making you snap out of your dozy state. you weren't even sure if you paid attention to class today.

you quickly gathered your stuff, students leaving the lecture hall one by one. your phone buzzed in your pocket, fishing for it, you read the message from mark.

mark: yo dude heard jaehyun’s throwing a party tomorrow, wanna come? mark: also i think i saw jeno and she-who-must-not-be-named together

struggling to balance your laptop in one hand and type on your phone with the other; you barely noticed a figure stepping in front of you—until they bumped into you, sending you off balance.

“oh my god!” a familiar voice shrieked, karina. you lifted your head to see her arms linked with jeno. her faced mixed with shock and annoyance.

“sorry!” you mumbled, quickly gathering your belongings to be more composed.

“hey, y/n.” jeno smiled at you, your chest tightened at his bright face. after he visited you a week ago, you haven’t heard much from him, aside from his occasional responses in the group chat you share with mark and haechan. all you knew was he was busy trying to get his girlfriend back. you weren’t sure if they made up, given that he hadn’t contacted you at all, but seeing as they were currently inseparable, you could probably guess their relationship right now.

karina patted down her skirt and top as if she were the one who practically fell. “y/n!” as if it was on cue, she flashed you a smile. “haven’t seen you in a hot minute. you going to jaehyun’s tomorrow?” you felt sick to your stomach. something was unsettling about how karina spoke to you, or maybe it was all in your head, and you were thinking too deeply about it.

you hesitated, glancing down at your phone, rereading mark’s message. did you really want to spend an entire night seeing jeno and karina pressed up against each other now that they were back together?

“i might.” you sent her a small smile, “mark and haechan are going, i think i’ll tag along.” glancing at jeno for a second, who was intently staring at you. a pit formed in your stomach at the sight of him, he looked better compared to last week—more relaxed, at ease.

“great!” karina clapped her hands together, “we’ll see you there.” she took Jeno’s hand, pulling him away with a little more force than necessary. he stumbled slightly, laughing as they disappeared down the hall, his voice echoing through the space and leaving a familiar ache in your chest.

you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the interaction, and texted mark back.

you: where are u? need someone to talk to

“are you even surprised at this point?” mark let out, mouth filled with the sandwich he was munching on. you were both seated in the field of the campus, deciding to reconnect with mother nature after the encounter you just had. you told mark about how you saw them together and how jeno looked happy again. you stayed silent at his comment, closing your eyes as you basked in the sunlight. “how’d you feel seeing them together?”

mark knew you too well. he was one of the people you confided in about your feelings for jeno. him and chaewon, your roommate. in the same way, jeno kept running to you when he was heartbroken, you ran to mark and chaewon whenever you were in the same cycle.

just as jeno used you as his safe place, you had mark and chaewon. they were the ones who listened when you cried, over and over, thinking that maybe this time he’d see you differently. and every time, they were the ones who held you every time you fell down.

you were in love with jeno. how could you not be? you grew up together, spending your childhood years nearly every second of the day. you were there to witness every version of him—his awkward phase in middle school with braces and bowl haircut, the high school years when he was navigating through puberty, and now, the college student jeno admired by everyone.

you were there for it all.

you were six when you witnessed jeno’s first tooth falling out. you couldn’t forget the way the blood dripped from his mouth, making you bawl, yet he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of the tooth on his hand.

you were ten when jeno first learned how to ride a bike. he came knocking on your door to show off his skills, but he fell and scraped his knees within five seconds of riding it.

you were thirteen when jeno came to you when he had his heart was broken. he wrote a letter to his crush admitting his feelings for her, but he came crying to you when he got rejected for the first time in his life.

you were eighteen when you and jeno sat in front of your laptops, awaiting the email of the university you had both applied to. you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around each other and squeal when you found out you both had been accepted.

however, you were sixteen when you first well in love with jeno. it was during prom when you got stood up by your date. jeno saw you sulking in the corner of the room, and without hesitation, he ditched his prom date to be with you for the rest of the night. he brought you to the dance floor and danced with you through every song.

every adult in your life was convinced you two would end up getting married due to your closeness, which he would always deny. each phase, each moment with jeno, made you realize how hard you were falling for him. he was your best friend, the only constant in your life. somewhere along the lines, you realized that friendship wasn’t enough for you.

but for jeno, it was the complete opposite. sure, he loved you, loved having you around, but there was this line between the two of you—one he never dared to cross. he was focused on finding love elsewhere, and it never occurred to him to look for it in the person who was always in front of him. you would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t pain you that he has never once looked for love in you.

“does it even matter?” you sighed, feeling the sun dance across your skin. “you know he’ll always run back to her.”

“yeah, because you never told him how you felt.” mark scoffed, setting his half-eaten sandwich down while wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “who knows? maybe he feels the same.”

“don’t.” you warned him, sending him a glare while he just sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. it was too painful to entertain the idea, too exhausting to keep hoping. you were just his best friend, the person he ran to when he needed comfort, but never the person he’d choose. you hated it. you hated waiting around like a lost puppy for him. “can we just talk about something else, please.”

mark hummed, his eyes roaming around the campus. “why don’t you let loose at jaehyun’s party tomorrow? maybe even look for someone to distract you from him.”

you chuckled, hugging your knees to your chest. “if only it were that easy.”

it’s not like you didn’t try to suppress your feelings for jeno. in fact, you did everything you could think of, even going to great lengths such as downloading a dating app—due to haechan’s insistence to attempt casual flings, kissing random strangers at parties, and even having one-night stands with people from campus. yet no matter how hard you tried, your feelings for jeno still crept up like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

there were moments where you thought you were okay and accepted that you don’t always get what you want in life—until a memory of him would hit you out of nowhere, and you’re back to square one. you get reminded of his laughter, the soft eye-smile he would give you whenever he spotted you in a crowd, and his goofy side, which only came out when he was around you. the memories haunted you whenever you least expected it, and no dating app or reckless decision could erase them.

chaewon stood in front of your closet; arms crossed against her chest as she inspected your wardrobe. you were not afraid to dress slutty, in fact, you had a fair share of provocative clothes stashed somewhere in your closet. but the way chaewon was staring at your wardrobe made you rethink all your fashion choices.

“i should really take you out shopping more often.” she mumbled, more to herself than to you. she began rummaging through the hung clothes, trying to find the perfect outfit for tonight. “you’re wasting so much potential.”

you raised an eyebrow, “i think i look fine.” watching as she pulled out different articles of clothing.

“fine isn’t going to get you laid.” chaewon turned to face you, a bunch of different colored tops in her arms. “we need something that screams, ‘fuck you, lee jeno, look what you’re missing out on.’”

you’ve mentioned to her that jeno and karina would be there as a couple again. and she—as the most supportive best friend—made it her personal mission to make you look like the hottest bitch in the party, just to flaunt what jeno had been too blind to see. she wasn’t about to let you shrink in the shadows of jeno and karina’s perfect little bubble. she wanted to make sure that all eyes would be on you.

you sat on the bed, watching her make a mess out of your closet. “i’m not even sure if i’m ready to put myself out there.” you sighed.

chaewon shot you a pointed look, the kind you’d see on your disappointed friend's face. “please. this is why we need to get you into the sluttiest clothes ever. you need to stop thinking of him and start thinking of yourself, y/n.”

chaewon’s words hung heavy in the air. she was right. you needed to stop playing the part of a background character in jeno’s life. it was getting exhausting, and you weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending like it didn’t bother you at all.

“you’re right.” you murmured, fingers playing with another.

her face lit up as she pulled out a black leather mini skirt, paired with a tight red crop top that accentuates your curves perfectly. you forgot you even owned these. “found it!” she squealed, showing you her discovery. “perfect. you look hot in red.” shaking your head at her enthusiasm, you let out a laugh. she chucked you the clothes, taking the sign to go change into them. “babe, if jeno’s dick doesn’t stand up the second he sees you in this, then maybe he is blind!” sending you a wink as you walked into the bathroom.

as you changed into your new outfit, your stomach couldn’t help but flip as you stared into your reflection. chaewon was right, you did look hot in these clothes. you felt silly for putting this much effort into jeno, who would most likely give you a half-assed hug in return.

you shook your head as you tried to push him out of your thoughts. deciding to adjust your top just enough to show off the perfect amount of cleavage. you had to focus on yourself. whether or not jeno would notice you didn’t matter anymore. you were going to have fun.

“dang! look at you.” mark whistled as you walked into the kitchen where he and haechan were situated, with drinks in their hands.

you felt your cheeks heat up under mark’s approving gaze. haechan, on the other hand, was shamelessly checking you out. “was this chaewon’s doing? because, wow, you look amazing.”

their flirting wasn’t something out of the ordinary; you were close friends who knew when to boost each other’s confidence. you couldn’t help but laugh at their comments, eyes wandering around the place. jaehyun’s place was filled with students dancing, chatting, and drinking. lights flashing from the makeshift led lights he probably put up, the crowd bathing in neon lights. the air was thick with sweat, perfume, and cheap alcohol. the music was being managed by johnny, who was the designated dj for tonight.

“looking for someone?” mark teased as he watched you scan the environment, nudging heachan with his elbow, who was smirking.

“no,” you lied, but you knew they could see right through you. “just looking around.” haechan nodded, but his expression showed that you were being dishonest. he handed you a red plastic cup filled with something that smelled fruity but strong. you silently thanked him before drowning the alcohol down your throat. you couldn’t help but wince at the intense flavor.

“you sure? not looking for someone in particular?” mark chuckled, taking a sip from his cup.

before you could come up with a response, you felt a hand on your shoulder. your body froze before turning around to see who it was. of course, it was who you expected—jeno, with his usual eye smile—enough to brighten up the room. karina, who looked as beautiful as ever, was attached to his side with a smile on her face.

your heart sank, but you kept your expression light, flashing the couple a smile while locking eyes with jeno. you nearly missed the way his eyes traveled down your frame, but you weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or you just wanted him to check you out. you swore his eyes lightly widened, but his gaze returned to karina as if nothing happened.

“hey guys.” jeno greeted, eyes wandering between the three of you but landing on you. you shifted beneath his gaze but shook it off; he was your best friend, of course. you gave him and karina a polite nod, although your stomach was churning at the sight of them.

“jeno!” haechan exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, making karina lightly lose her balance. her expression grew sour at haechan’s actions. “we missed you, man.” he jokingly puckered his lips to plant a kiss on his cheek, but jeno just laughed and tried to dodge his lips.

“here you go, dude.” mark handed jeno and karina a drink which they accepted and drank. the air suddenly felt tight, your chest pounding, so you looked at mark for help. he sensed your uneasiness, placing his cup down on the counter. “alright! time to dance, y/n, come with me.” mark grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the dance floor, feeling a gaze on you as you left the kitchen.

the music was deafeningly loud, bodies bumping into each other as you navigated the living room. you mumbled an apology to every person you hit, nearly stumbling, but mark’s grip on you saved you. once you finally found a spot, you let loose, moving to the rhythm as the lights flashed overhead. haechan and chaewon shortly found you, forming a crowd as you danced.

from across the room, jeno sat on a couch with karina perched on his side, her legs on top of his lap as her fingers ran across the back of his head.

“this party’s boring.” karina complained, letting out a sigh while taking another sip from her cup.

jeno didn’t respond. he wanted nothing more than to join his friends on the dance floor, but he knew it wasn’t karina’s crowd, so he decided to stay with her to avoid getting her upset. “you’ve been awfully quiet. did i do something?”

jeno shook his head, eyes landing on hers. “no,” he grasped her hand in his. “don’t you want to dance?”

“you know i’m not into this kind of scene, jeno. why’d we even come here?” karina scoffed, pulling her legs off his lap and crossing her arms. jeno pursed his lips, the tension between them rising.

“you said you wanted to see what the fuss was about, babe.” jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i thought we could have fun together with my friends for once.”

“what’s that supposed to mean!” karina snapped, but jeno was listening to someone else in particular; a burst of laughter from the dance floor caught his attention. his eyes instinctively found you, spinning with mark and chaewon, a carefree smile on your face. he nearly sulked as he watched his friends have fun while he was sitting in a corner.

karina’s eyes followed to where jeno was staring at, her expressions souring even more once he realized jeno wasn’t even listening to her. “of course,” her voice cut through his trance. “you’re not even paying attention to me.”

chaewon caught what was stirring from the corner of her eyes, nudging you. “uh oh, trouble in paradise again.”

you sneaked a glance at where they were sitting; it was easy to spot jeno in a crowd. his back was hunched, karina’s eyebrows furrowed while speaking to him. you almost felt sorry for him.

jeno’s gaze met yours, you quickly looked away to pretend you were not snooping on them, but you knew he saw you staring anyway. you shook off your thoughts, trying to focus on having fun with your friends. you hated the effect he had on you. you hated how easily he got under your skin, how his presence could unravel the fragile composure you worked so hard to maintain.

meanwhile, karina had grown tired of jeno’s distracted demeanor. she stood up abruptly, clutching her purse in her hands. “i’m leaving.” she told jeno, annoyance evident in her tone.

“babe, wait—” jeno stood up, catching her arm, but she shrugged him off.

“stay if you want. don’t bother following me. i’ll text you whenever.” she snapped before storming out of the room.

jeno stood there, watching her back, slowly immersing herself in the crowd. for some reason, he couldn’t move; he didn’t want to move. the guilt of letting her storm off alone clashed with the relief of not encountering a full-on argument. he knows his actions will probably lead to a massive fight with her again, but he was just too tired to deal with it tonight. his eyes trailed back to where you were dancing, but you were no longer there; only mark and haechan remained.

you couldn’t handle another second of witnessing jeno and karina together. you decided to escape the crowd and find an empty room to gather your thoughts. thankful that jaehyun’s house was large enough to have an unoccupied room. the noise from the party was muffled the second you shut the door behind you.

you sat on the edge of the bed, sighing as you ran your hand through your hair. get it together. you scolded yourself before plopping back on the soft mattress. tonight was supposed to be about letting loose, but the sight of jeno with her was too unbearable. the room became unbreathable as thoughts clouded your mind. you often wondered why jeno couldn’t just look at what was in front of him. the way he made you feel like a teenager pining over her crush made you laugh.

soft knocks on the door snapped you back to life. curious, you stood up and hovered over the doorknob.

“y/n?” the voice from the other side of the door called out, making your breath hitch. “are you in there?”

jeno. why was he here? how did you know you were here? you hesitated before grabbing the doorknob and turning it to open the door. there he was—clad in a black shirt with some jeans, yet he still looked like he was crafted by the gods.

“jeno? what are you doing here?” you resisted the urge to ask him why he wasn’t with his girlfriend, but from the looks of the events earlier, they probably quarreled again.

jeno didn’t respond, instead, he moved past you and into the room you were occupying. you shut the door behind you, not bothering to lock it because you saw no need to. he sat on the edge of the bed, where you had previously sat.

you were lost. you don’t know how you should act right now, and jeno seemed so defeated.

“you’ve been avoiding me all night.” jeno spoke, his eyes trained on you. you were leaning against the door, a wide distance between the two of you.

you nearly laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “i wasn’t avoiding you, jen. you were just busy with karina the entire night.” it was true, you had no intentions of ignoring him. in fact, a part of you wanted to see him, to see you. even though you convinced yourself that tonight was about you, it wouldn’t hurt if he saw the effort you put on today.

he took a second to scan your frame, his lips tugging into a small smile when he reached your face. “you look nice.” your heart leaped at his compliment. throat going dry as you thought of words to say to him.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you chuckled. the air felt thick, you weren’t sure if it was only on your end. you couldn’t help but let your eyes roam his body as well. you knew jeno was fit—he was always diligent about his attendance at the gym—and it surely didn’t help your thoughts that you had a massive crush on him. he looked great, so hot. it made it hard to think straight.

jeno’s eyes didn’t leave yours, his gaze was so intense that it made you want to cower and run away. you cleared your throat. “why are you here, jeno?” you asked, breaking the silence. even though you already anticipated the answer.

“we fought.” you knew it. “i just… i needed to get away for a bit.” of course, why else would he seek for you?

your heart banged against your chest. you wanted to comfort him, to be his solace as you had always been, playing the part of his best friend. but at the same time, you hated being his safe space, you hated how he ran to you only when things got messy with her. it was not fair.

“does she know you’re here?” you asked cautiously, watching as his face twisted into worry.

“she left.” jeno shook his head, leaning back against the mattress with his hands bracing him. you hated how casual he was being. “said i could stay here if i wanted.” his voice laced with frustration, eyes falling to the floor.

you nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from uttering words that you’d soon regret. as a best friend, you were supposed to tell him to go after her, to patch things up with her like he always does. but tonight, you wanted to be selfish. you wanted him to stay.

“and you came here?” the words left your mouth, and you regretted it immediately.

jeno lifted his head, eyes meeting yours once again. “yeah.” he said, standing up from his spot, taking careful strides towards you. your eyes widened when he approached you. “i came here.” he stopped in front of you, making you take a step backward, but your back just hit the wall, preventing you from moving any further. his frame towering over yours.

there were warning bells ringing in your ears as jeno’s eyes flicked down to your lips. it was subtle, but it was enough to send your thoughts spiraling. your mind was screaming at you to move, to say something, to do anything—but all your heart could focus on was him.

what was he doing?

he was getting dangerously close to you. his perfume hitting your nose, the familiar scent taking over you. the silence in the room was loud, his hand landing on the space next to your head, resting on the wooden door.

“jeno…” your voice came out soft, almost whisper-like, pleading him. although you weren’t entirely sure if you were pleading for him to stop or continue. your pulse racing as he leaned even closer, the gap between you shrinking. the invisible barrier you’d tried so hard to build came crashing down as his intoxicating scent painted the room with tension that grew impossibly thick.

jeno paused to stare into your eyes, looking for signs of doubt in them. his movements were cautious, as though he was giving you time to stop him—but your body betrayed you as you stood frozen in place.

this wasn’t—shouldn’t— supposed to happen. this wasn’t you. you weren’t supposed to have him this close to you—not when he wasn’t yours to begin him.

but the way he looked at you now, like you were his favorite dessert that his mother told him he couldn’t have at a grocery store, made it so hard to pull away.

“i—we can’t.” you croaked out, your voice betraying you.

“tell me to stop.” jeno mumbled, his lips barely grazing yours.

stop.

stop!

you couldn’t stop.

jeno crashed his lips to yours. his taste greeting your tongue, the flavor of alcohol mixed with something uniquely him. you gasped into the kiss, eyes shutting as your hands instinctively flew to his chest while his mouth moved against yours. he didn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue between your parted lips, roaming it around. you felt your knees weaken.

jeno was kissing you. and you were kissing him back. the moment you had dreamed of and longed for was becoming a reality. it was real—vivid, and more overwhelming than anything you could imagine.

his hands fell to your waist, pulling your body flush against his. your hands gripped his shirt, tugging him close to you. the heat of his body pressed against yours, sending shivers down your spine. the feeling of him getting hard against your thigh snapped you back to your senses. your eyes fluttered open with a surge of panic before pushing his body away. what have you done?

“what the fuck.” you whispered, hand reaching up to touch your lips that were on his mere seconds ago as if you couldn’t believe the affair that just occurred.

“y/n—“ jeno started, arms reaching out for you. but you pulled away from him. “hey, it’s okay.” he assured you. his expression turning soft as he watched your panicked state. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have—”

the kiss was replaying in your head, the vivid moment playing repeatedly to remind you it was immoral. but deep inside, you were floating on the clouds. jeno kissed you. you weren’t sure if you were sorry to begin with.

“i-i need to go.” you mumbled, turning around and grabbing the doorknob. jeno took a step back to give you some space.

“let me explain.” jeno called out, but you were already scrambling towards the door, needing to create distance between the two of you, leaving him and your chaos of emotions behind.

“i’m so excited!” chaewon squealed as she held onto your hand, practically dragging you towards the bus.

it was the annual retreat the student council had organized to help students destress and bond outside of academic pressure. this year, the arts and business departments were grouped to blend creativity and strategy. since you and chaewon were both visual design students, you agreed to be seatmates on the bus. mark and haechan were also coming along because they were music and dance majors, respectively. while it sounded like an excellent opportunity to unwind, you knew it also meant that jeno and karina would be there since they were a part of the department as business and fashion majors.

you haven’t spoken to jeno since your last encounter. you weren’t sure you had the right words to say to him. no one knew of what happened that night, and the guilt was clawing you alive. you contemplated whether to tell chaewon about it. you knew she was going to be by your side, but admitting that you kissed jeno while he was in a relationship with karina was something you didn’t want to say out loud. admitting it would make it real. and making it real meant facing the truth: you kissed someone else’s boyfriend. even if he started it.

the mere thought made you shiver. although jeno was equally responsible for the kiss that he initiated, you wondered if he told anyone about it, if he regretted it, or if he thinks about it as often as you did.

you would be lying to yourself if you said that you had already forgotten about the kiss. the memory of kissing someone you were in love with was not easy to bury. the feeling of his lips on yours haunted you on nights you couldn’t sleep, your heart racing at the faint thought of it.

you found yourself seated in the middle section of the bus. chaewon begged for the window seat, striking a deal to share her stash of snacks in exchange. students gradually filled the bus, mark and haechan seated on the aisle across from you, their banter already filling the air. it wasn’t long before jeno and karina boarded the bus, karina leading jeno with her hand in his. for a brief second, you locked eyes with jeno, whose face was filled with sorrow when he looked at you. you loathed it.

you quickly broke eye contact, but you swore his gaze lingered on you a bit longer. you faced chaewon, who was telling you about her latest boy drama. she noticed that your expression had shifted; she turned her head to see where you were just looking, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the couple.

“are you and jeno alright?” chaewon whispered, leaning towards you. “don’t think i saw you guys together since the party.” you stiffened. she was right.

chaewon was observant. she knew you too well. she noticed the small things, like how you look for jeno in crowds or how your mood shifts downward when you spot him with karina. it had been two torturous weeks since the party, since you had a secret you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell anyone. two weeks of trying to convince yourself that it didn’t mean anything—when deep down, you knew it meant everything.

and two weeks' worth of unread messages from jeno.

you thought back to the notifications you had stared at countless times, your heart clenching every time his name lit up your screen.

jeno: hey jeno: how are u? jeno: we should really talk jeno: let me know when ure free jeno: i miss u y/n jeno: pls dont ignore me

you had read them all. your fingers hovered over the keyboard countless times, thinking about what to say to him. what were you supposed to say? that you were in love with him? that the kiss meant everything to you while it was probably a drunken mistake for him? that you were drowning in guilt but couldn't help but think about the kiss? you decided that saying nothing would be better, giving you time to gather your thoughts.

but no matter how you tried, jeno was everywhere. in the halls, in your dreams, and now, on this godforsaken bus.

“yeah.” you smiled at chaewon, pulling on her arm so you could nest your head against her shoulder. “i’m just sleepy.”

“my ass hurts.” haechan whined dramatically as you got off the bus. mark chuckled at him while he extended his arms. the ride took three hours and you were all sore from sitting down, eager to stretch your legs. but the view was worth the pain.

the beach house that the council rented was massive. its modern design stands out against the blue ocean and white sand. large glass windows reflected the sun rays, and the sprawling deck held enough space for barbecues and hangouts. off to the side were lounge chairs arranged neatly with umbrellas softening the harsh sunlight. the waves crashing softly against the shore added a soothing background hum, instantly washing away some of your earlier tension.

“alright, everyone!” one of the council—who you recognized was soobin—announced, making heads turn to face him. “we’ll be assigning rooms in fifteen minutes. grab your stuff, and let’s meet in the living room.”

moments later, the group navigated to the now cramped space. you were sure there were at least twenty students in your house, and you wondered if it was enough to fit all of you. the rest are probably in the beach houses next door. the living room buzzed with activity. some familiar faces are scattered around the area; you gave them a polite nod when you met their eyes, thankful that they returned the gesture. you settled for the vacant space on the couch, with chaewon trailing behind you.

“settle down, guys.” soobin cleared his throat. the noise in the room died down, with jisung and chenle the last ones to squeeze into the room. soobin lifted his phone, assuming to read off the names and room assignments. “some already requested to be paired before this trip, so let me tell you which rooms you’ll be in.”

“chaewon and y/n.” soobin called out, head whipping to look for us, nodding once he spotted us. “you’ll be in room 3.”

chaewon let out a tiny clap with her hands, smiling at you brightly, to which you returned the energy. soobin continued announcing the names of the students who would be roomed together. mark and haechan are paired in the room across the hall from yours.

“i know some of you requested to be with your partners, but the school board requires us to separate male and female students.” soobin started, groans echoing throughout the room. “i know, i know. but this will just be for formalities. what you do after lights out is none of our business.” his comment drew waves of laughter and grins.

“jeno and renjun.” he continued, looking around the room. “room 6.”

the sound of his name made your stomach drop, nearly forgot that he was in the same room as you. you tried to keep your expression neutral as your eyes shifted to him, who was leaning against the wall with karina on his side.

“find your rooms and settle in. dinner’s at six. feel free to explore the area until then.” soobin finally finished disclosing information, and everyone hurried off to find their respective rooms.

chaewon led the way to your room, with you trailing behind her, struggling to navigate the vast house with your bags. the weight of your stuff was slowing you down, and you silently cursed yourself for your overpacking tendencies. startled, a pair of hands who obviously saw you struggle helped you carry them. you lifted your head to say thank you, but the words got stuck in your throat when you locked eyes with your rescuer, jeno.

“i could’ve carried them.” you mumbled, watching as he effortlessly carried your bag with one arm, and—you're assuming—his and karina’s bag in another. speaking of, where was she?

“just accept the help.” jeno replied, his tone simple. a wave of emotions washing over you—guilt, confusion, and something you did not want to name. this was the first time you’d talked to him since the incident. “lead the way.” pursing your lips, you ascended the stairs, feeling him trace your steps but not utter a word.

shortly, you found chaewon standing in front of a bedroom door, which you’re guessing is your room. her eyes widened when she saw who was behind you, but you’re thankful she didn’t mention anything.

“i can take it from here.” you told jeno, who nodded. he handed you your bag, his fingers grazing your skin as you retrieved it from his grasp. you don’t know if you were going crazy, but you swore sparks shot out of your entire body from the mere touch of his skin.

get a hold of yourself.

you thought to yourself. you have experienced jeno’s touch before, but why were you acting like a teenage girl who got to hold her crush’s hand for the first time?

you muttered a thank you to jeno before following chaewon, who had already entered the room. but before you could cross the doorway, you felt a hand on your arm. your heart speeded up at the contact. head turning to face him, he opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out.

“can we talk?” jeno asked, his eyebrows twisting in concern. “please?”

“later.” you affirmed, sending him a weak smile. “come over later.”

his lips tugged upward into a tight smile before nodding and walking away to enter his room, which you saw was just a few doors away from yours.

you shut the door behind you once you entered the room, sighing against it. chaewon watched you with worried eyes, and it took everything in you not to admit to her and cry in her arms. still, the weight of her stare told you that she knew something was wrong.

“had a small fight with jeno.” lie. “don’t worry, i’m used to fighting with his ass.” you dryly laughed. you knew she didn’t buy it but decided to let it go, not wanting to pry when you’re obviously not in the mood to talk about it.

you took this time to scan the room. two single beds in the middle of the room with a bedside table separating them. light blue wallpaper covering the wall, the sunlight peeking through the glass windows. and the view showcased the ocean’s beauty, which made you smile. maybe this retreat wouldn’t be so bad after all?

“you look hot!” chaewon complimented as you slipped into denim shorts. you were wearing a light pink two-piece bikini that was enough to prevent public indecency.

haechan texted you, saying that he, mark, and a few other people were hanging by the beach, and of course, you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to feel the ocean breeze on your skin. you immediately pulled out the bikini you packed for this trip.

“look who's talking!” you giggled, pointing to her black bikini that perfectly hugged her body. “who will be the lucky guy tonight?” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, which she just laughed at.

“whoever it will be, i just hope he’s good in bed.” chaewon fake sighed, making you jokingly pat her arm.

the sun was about to set. some students were already grilling dinner to serve to everyone, and some were mingling by the pool. you could not wait to spend time with your friends to take your mind off him.

the two of you left your room and walked down the hall towards the beach. the faint sound of familiar voices filling the air as your toes reached the sand. you spotted mark, whose back was facing you, seated on a camp chair circling a fire. the cool breeze brushing against your skin as you neared them.

“there you guys are!” haechan exclaimed once he spotted you. he patted the empty chair for you to sit next to him, which you did. chaewon sat on the empty one next to yunjin, who was also in your year. you said your greetings to everyone around the fire, thankful that you were familiar with all of them.

the scent of the ocean filled your nose. the sounds of seagulls flying echoed the air. the warmth of the fire dancing on your skin. it felt soothing not to have to think about the stress of academics. however, your solace was cut short when a familiar couple took the spot directly in front of you.

“why don’t we play a game!” jisung, seated beside haechan, suggested, voice cutting through the conversation.

“what are we? twelve?” chenle scoffed, leaning against his chair while taking a sip out of his cup.

jisung smirked, punching him lightly. “come on, live a little, you prude.”

“bet you’re going to suggest tru-“

“truth or dare!” jisung suggested, eyes lighting up mischievously, earning a chorus of groans from the crowd, which you chuckled at.

“i think it’ll be fun!” chaewon chimed in, voice raising as she clapped her hands.

jisung scanned the area, “alright, let’s see!” a finger tapping his chin as he picked his first target. “jeno, truth or dare?” all eyes landed on him, including yours, watching as he contemplated what to choose.

jeno chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “truth.”

“boring.” jisung groaned but conjured up a question anyway. “who is the prettiest woman in this circle? and it doesn’t have to be your girlfriend!”

“jisung, you’re being weird.” renjun interjected, shaking his head in disapproval.

“what! it’s called truth or dare for a reason.” jisung defended, putting his hands up in defense.

jeno stayed silent for a second before he lifted his head. you swore his eyes lingered on you for too long before uttering his answer. “karina, of course.”

“boo!” jisung chanted, but some were in awe of his loyalty to his girlfriend. karina, who was next to him, jokingly rolled her eyes before kissing jeno on the cheek. you stayed silent, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to avert your gaze from the affectionate display.

“eric!” jisung called out. heads turned to him, who was seated beside you. you followed their gaze to see the handsome male.

“dare.” eric smirked, leaning forward in confidence.

“finally, someone who’s not a pussy.” jisung grinned mischievously, rubbing his hands together. “i dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this circle.”

“dude, what is your obsession with pretty girls.” you heard mark whisper.

the circle broke into fits of laughter, but what happened next came as a shock to you. eric turned to face you, your eyes widening once you realized what he was asking. the laughter died down as everyone’s attention shifted towards the two of you. his eyes met yours, and your heart began pounding as the realization hit.

“what—” you started, but the words barely left your mouth before eric leaned in. his lips inches away from you, staring into you as if he was silently asking for permission. you froze, not retracting your face away. you gave him a tiny nod of confirmation. he placed a soft kiss on your lips, lingering just a second too long for it to feel innocent.

the group erupted into a mix of cheers, gasps, and whistles.

“my guy didn’t even hesitate!” mark exclaimed, patting eric on the arm. you pulled away from eric, cheeks heating up from the amount of people witnessing the dared kiss.

you didn’t want to, but you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at jeno. his expression was curious, his previous relaxed demeanor replaced by something you couldn’t understand, making you wonder if it was because of you.

eric leaned back into his seat, a cheeky grin on his lips. “sorry if it was too forward.”

you let out a small laugh, brushing it off. “it’s fine.” tucking a strand of hair behind your ears.

“moving on!” jisung announced, “renjun, truth or dare?”

jisung’s words faded away as your attention averted to something—someone—else. from the corner of your eye, jeno’s gaze was flickering between you and eric, his jaw clenching as he gripped the red plastic cup in his hand.

haechan leaned to you, mouth near your ear. “think that’s because of you?” he whispered as if he read your mind. he was always the one to tease you about your feelings for jeno.

“don’t be absurd.” you glared at him, pushing him away, but he only laughed. but deep inside, your thoughts were all over the place, with jeno’s reaction lingering in the back of your head, making things feel infinitely more complicated.

a knock on your door pulled you out of your trance. you decided to head back to your room, leaving the group behind to catch up on some well-deserved sleep. you were feeling overwhelmed with the social interaction you had to go through today, quietly slipping yourself away from haechan’s coercion of trying to make you stay longer. not to mention it seems like jeno and karina were getting heated up from the amount of affection they were displaying. you did not want to stick around when things escalated.

curious, you stood from the bed and gripped the doorknob before turning it and opening the door.

“hey.” jeno greeted, a sheepish smile on his face.

the wind was knocked out of you. you forgot you asked him to come over, seeing him in front of you made you nervous.

“jeno.” you breathed, .

“can i come in?” red exclamation marks were clouding your vision, but you shook them off, pulling the door wider so he could pass through.

jeno stayed silent as he entered your room, eyes wandering around the place for a second before facing you. you were almost certain you felt deja vu by your current positions.

“i wish you would stop avoiding me.” jeno started, “i know what i did was uncalled for, but i—it was—“

“did you tell her?” you interrupted, voice sounding sharper than you intended.

“i—no.”

“jeno.” you glared at him.

“i know! i feel so fucking guilty about it, too, okay? but i—“ jeno took a step forward to you. “have a lot in my head.”

“imagine how i feel!” you shot back, voice jumping an octave. “i made out with someone else’s boyfriend.” you whispered the last part as the weight of your words sank in.

“fuck, y/n. it’s not easy for me either.” his eyes were trained on you with an expression plastered on his face that you couldn’t quite understand.

“what are you saying?” frustration lacing your voice.

jeno thought for a second, letting the silence fill the air as he racked his mind of what to say. “do you like eric?”

“what? no!” you replied instantly to his ridiculous question. why does he even care if you had feelings for eric?

“does he kiss better than me?”

“are you insane?” you spat. “are you literally joking about this right now?”

“i’m not joking.” jeno inched closer to you. your heart racing once his scent reached your nose, his warmth radiating off his body. “does he?”

thoughts clouded your mind. why would he even care if eric was a good kisser? he had karina. a girlfriend who he had been with for years. “i’m not answering that.” you shook your head, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to build a wall between the two of you.

“i want to kiss you again.”

“what?” your knees grew weak at his confession. staring at him as if he had three heads. was he hearing himself right now?

“can i?” jeno grabbed your arms, making them uncross from your previous stance. so much for building a wall. “kiss you…” he dropped his grip from your arms, caressing your cheek with his hand. “again?” his thumb sliding down just enough to reach your lips.

“jeno…” you begged, almost sounding like a whimper.

“just… one more time, please?” he pleaded, gaze dropping to your lips. you didn’t miss the way he licked his lips before flickering his eyes back to meet yours.

“this is wrong.” you whispered, voice unsteady. your words contradict your actions.

“i know.” his breath fanned your face. “but i can’t stop thinking about our kiss.” his lips dangerously close to yours. the weight of his confession sending you into a spiral. “tell me to leave.”

you stayed silent. the words hung in the air, heavy with anticipation. the internal battle inside you faltered as you slowly caved in. you slightly shook your head no, and that was all he needed.

jeno kissed you like he had been waiting his whole life for it. you reciprocated his energy, arms flying around his neck to tug him closer to you. his arms wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him. you whimpered against his lips when you felt his cock hardening, just by your mere.

“fuck.” jeno whispered, hands cupping your face as he pulled away from your lips. “i need you so bad.” desperation lacing his voice.

“w-what?” you froze, not expecting things to escalate so quickly. “jeno, kari-”

“she’s mad at me.” oh. “told me not to bother looking for her tonight.” his expression turned sour from mentioning her girlfriend. odd.

your heart raced. is that why he was here? to look for release?

as if he read your mind, he was quick to respond. “you’re not a placeholder for her, y/n.” this was the first lie jeno told you. “i’m here for you.” he reassured.

jeno leaned in and kissed you again, the kiss soft and filled with need. your mind is still on the fence about the entire situation, but by the simple “please?” he uttered, your walls came crashing down. it felt like you two were the only people on earth.

one thing led to another; you found yourself laying on the mattress with jeno in between your legs. his lips on yours as he kissed you hungrily, his hands playing with the hem of your shirt. he pulled away from you, looking at you for confirmation before you nodded. he slipped the shirt off your frame, eyes roaming your bra-clad body the second you were exposed.

feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze, you moved to cover yourself, but his grip on your arms prevented you from doing so.

“don’t.” he muttered, leaning down to place a kiss on your chest. “beautiful.” his hand snaked behind your back, his fingers grazing the clasp of your bra. “can i?”

you nodded, and in a swift motion, the clothing fell down your chest. your heart speeding up as his fingers trailed from your back to just below your breast. he looked into your eyes for any signs of doubt, but you didn’t provide any. you needed him badly.

you reached for his shirt, tugging it as a sign. he noticed the signal and pulled away from you, lifting his shirt off his body. your eyes shamelessly traveling down his toned chest, feeling a wave of heat forming between your legs. damn his addiction to working out.

“you can touch me, you know.” jeno chuckled once he saw your mouth slightly part at the sight. you took his words as a sign to caress his chest, down to his abs and just above his abdomen, making him groan. “didn’t know you’d be such a tease.”

“shut up.” you mumbled, hands playing with the buttons of his jeans. “i’m taking my time.” you admired his body; after all, you had only been dreaming of this moment.

“oh?” jeno teased, grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you down so your core was close to his crotch, making you gasp. “well, i need you now.” he whispered before attaching his lips to yours, hand reaching up to your breast to knead the skin, making you moan against his mouth. his free hand reached in between your bodies to cup your core, the wetness seeping through as he gently rubbed up and down.

his cock growing against your core, feeling your body heat rise at the sensation. his fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts before sliding them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed.

in an abrupt motion, jeno took off his pants and boxers. his cock springing against his abdomen, the head red and precum spilling from the tip. you licked your lips before reaching to pump his cock. he was so big and thick, better than you could ever imagine.

“fuck.” jeno grunted against your touch, hips bucking to meet your hands. “i-i don’t have any condoms.”

“just pull out, i trust you.” you bit your lip. “and i’m on the pill if that helps.”

“why didn’t you start with that?” jeno replaced your hand with his. aligning his length with your entrance. spreading your wetness with the head of his cock.

you whimpered at the sensation before he slowly pushed into you. muted gasps leaving your lips, mouth falling agape as you grew accustomed to his size.

“shit—“ jeno’s hands fell to your hips, gripping on the skin. “you’re so tight.” he said, fully burying himself into you. your insides were burning from the lack of foreplay, but you didn’t care; you wanted him—needed him—before he slipped out of your grasp again. tears pricked your eyes as he adjusted himself. he stayed still, waiting for any confirmation from you. “i know, i know.” he muttered, pressing a kiss on your forehead once he saw your pained expression. “it’ll feel better, i promise.”

a few moments later, you tapped his thigh as a signal. he carefully moved his hips, slowly thrusting out before fully pushing in again. once you got used to his movements, moans spilled from your lips. he took this as a sign to increase his speed.

“god—“ you cried out, hands gripping the sheets beneath you. “jeno!”

his hands reached for your breasts, massaging them while simultaneously playing with your nipples. your back arched against the mattress when his fingers circled the sensitive buds.

your hips bucked up in an attempt to meet his thrusts, making him pick up the pace even more. “so good for me.” he praised, making your head dizzy. his lips find your neck, sucking and licking on the skin.

lewd sounds escaping your lips from his actions. your hand flew to grip his hair, tugging it lightly, making him grunt. the familiar knot forming in your stomach as he picked up his pace. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the new position allowing him to bury his cock even deeper.

you cursed out his name as his tip perfectly hit the spot that drove you insane. “f-fuck.” you managed to let out. hands falling to his shoulder, fingernails slightly digging into his skin.

sweat trickled down jeno’s forehead as he pulled away from your neck. his eyes trained on you—his best friend—as you took his cock.

“are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” jeno grunted, watching your breasts bounce from his every thrust. he licked his lips at the sight.

you nodded, biting on your lip. “god—yes!”

jeno slipped his hand in between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. he circled the sensitive nerve, adding even more pleasure, making you near your orgasm even more.

“come on, baby.” jeno whispered, lips capturing yours. “cum for me.”

you clenched around him. your release begging to be freed, with a few more thrusts from him. you came crashing down on his cock. moaning loudly as you chased your high. you were thankful that almost everyone was busy getting drunk on the beach.

“oh my fucking god.” jeno groaned, watching as you squirmed beneath him. your back arching, giving him a perfect view of your tits. and soon enough, his orgasm hit him; he quickly pulled out, spilling his cum all over your stomach.

you lay there breathless, chest heaving as you recovered from your high. jeno pulled his body away from you, walking into the connected bathroom before coming back with a roll of tissue. he peeled a fair amount before rushing to wipe his cum all over you.

you giggled when his hands reached your sides, feeling ticklish. you watched him clean you up, and suddenly, reality came crashing in.

you just fucked someone else’s boyfriend. the air suddenly felt tight as jeno trashed the dirty tissues. he reached for his pants, slipped them on before reaching for your clothes, and placed them near you.

“oh my god.” you whispered as your realization kicked in. your hands reaching for the covers to hide away from him somehow.

“what’s wrong?” jeno asked, brows furrowed as he watched you try to scramble away from him.

“jeno, we just fucked.” you reminded him, reaching for your shirt to cover yourself up.

“we’ve literally known each other for years, y/n. i don’t think now’s the time for you to be shy.” he chuckled, slipping his shirt on.

“that’s not—jeno, what about karina?”

jeno froze, expression twisting into worry at the mention of his girlfriend’s name, but he quickly shook it off, masking his unease. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of it.” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with you. his words felt empty, a hollow reassurance that only deepened the pit in your stomach. you weren’t exactly sure what he was promising—what was he going to take care of? “i can’t stay here tonight.” he moved closer to the doom “i’ll see you soon?” his hand lingered on the doorway, finally fixing his gaze on you.

then it hit you like you were punched in the gut, and it all made sense now. you weren’t sure if jeno was here to patch things up with you or dig a hole even deeper, but given your past activity, you could only guess he made the decision for the latter. jeno was just here for a quick release. and who better to turn to rather than his best friend—the one he knew would always bend over backward for him?

you sat there, unable to move. you were equally to blame. you had let this happen. you let yourself fall down his trap, even though warning signs blared in your mind. you let yourself believe that he was capable of having feelings for you beyond friendship.

“right,” you nodded curtly, voice barely audible. “see you.”

jeno hesitated for a second, “don’t be a stranger, okay?” he said before slipping out the door. the soft click of its closing was deafening, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

your gaze stilled on the door. his presence still lingering at the back of your head. he said he couldn’t stay, but you wondered if he wanted to. or were you just a convenient distraction, someone to make him feel grounded while he sorted his mess with karina?

tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away. chaewon could be coming in any second—quite grateful that she didn’t when jeno was balls deep in you—and you refused to show any vulnerability, not when it comes to him. not this time, you couldn’t keep doing this—not to him, or karina, and definitely not to yourself.

your little secret was eating you alive.

here you sat, curled up on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment with chaewon. it was one of those rare nights when you and your friends—chaewon, mark, haechan, and jeno (when he wasn’t busy quarreling with karina)—could indulge in your movie night tradition.

the aroma of buttered popcorn filled the air, and a pile of blankets and pillows was scattered around the room. you were seated on the loveseat couch with chaewon beside you, her legs resting on your lap. mark and haechan were below you, sitting on the air mattress you had put out specifically for this night. and jeno splayed himself on the comfortable armchair. the tv illuminated the room as the opening credits of a classic rom-com played, but you were barely paying attention. how could you? your mind was floating, caught in a web of guilt.

after the encounter you had with jeno, you were convinced he was going to do the right thing—either end things with karina or at least come clean about what happened. but alas, you heard that he somehow made up with her, leaving you wondering and confused.

you felt used. it wasn’t that you expected he would ditch karina and be with you; you weren’t that naive. you simply hoped it would be the start of shifting your relationship—if you could even call it that—with jeno. but instead, he was still hesitant about crossing the line from friends.

jeno was within your peripheral vision, laughing at the comment mark had said about the movie. the sound of his voice made your stomach feel uneasy. he seemed so unbothered, so perfect and fine, yet you felt like you were drowning from the weight of what the two of you shared. it felt unfair.

you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone, not chaewon, not mark. you were carrying the burden alone. but jeno’s every glance at you made your body feel like it was under a spotlight.

it didn’t help that you hadn’t spoken to jeno about it. granted, you were both busy with university and this was the first time you’d been in the same room as him since the trip. talking through the phone just doesn’t seem enough for the weight of your conversation.

“why are you so quiet tonight?” chaewon asked, munching on popcorn. “you okay?”

“of course!” you shot her a smile, reaching for the bowl she had with her and popping some popcorn in your mouth. “just really wanted to watch this movie.” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t see right through you. she believed you, dropping the subject.

if only you could bury the truth as easily as you buried your feelings.

from the corner of your eye, you knew that jeno tuned in to the brief conversation, his expression dropping from the tone of your voice.

the movie continued. the comedic skits drew laughter from mark and haechan. chaewon lets out squeals whenever the main lead does something romantic. despite the bubbly atmosphere, you couldn’t fully immerse yourself in the group. you sneaked another glance towards jeno, whose gaze was directed to his phone.

his screen lit up, indicating a notification, and his fingers hovered over the keyboard. the soft glow gave you enough light to see his jaw tense slightly. you didn’t even have to think for a second that the text had come from karina. you felt foolish for somehow believing him when he said he would take care of it.

jeno stood up abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention. “i—uh have to go.” he announced, pocketing his phone and reaching for his jacket.

“what? i thought we were having a sleepover!” haechan whined, tossing a piece of popcorn in his direction.

“yeah, dude, the movie was just about to get interesting.” mark chimed in, his eyes darting to the screen, making sure not to miss a scene.

jeno could only muster a chuckle. “sorry, something came up. it’s, uh, family stuff.” he lied through his teeth. his eyes avoided yours no matter how intent you were staring at him, which alone was enough to confirm your suspicion.

why did he lie about seeing karina?

“everything okay?” chaewon asked, concern dripping from her tone.

“oh yeah, nothing serious. they just need my help with something.” jeno assured, enough to not worry anyone.

you stayed silent, watching as he lied about his whereabouts. you merely nodded at his words, not having the right words to say. they all bid their goodbyes, and you managed to utter a tiny “bye” to his departure. you swore he turned back one last time before leaving, not to look at the group but to look at you. the look on his face was unreadable, and you hated how you couldn’t see right through him.

once jeno left, everyone returned their attention to the movie. your chest felt much lighter by his absence, but once you thought about where or who he was going to, you felt a commotion stir inside you.

“how’s it going with you and jeno?” mark casually asked, making you panic. worried that you might have let something slip.

“what do you mean?”

“figured out how to get over that crush of yours?” oh. chaewon and haechan’s ears perked up, looking at you for confirmation.

“i’m trying.” you kept your answer curt, shrinking into the cushions, trying to avoid the discussion.

“you know, i have this friend, and i think he’d be perfect for you.” mark started, head turning to face you, a mischievous smirk plastered on his lips. “good looking, smart, studying for his medical degree, loves cats.” he listed, trying to make his friend sound as attractive as possible.

“what? are you trying to set me up on a blind date?” you raised your brow at him, which he only sheepishly smiled at.

“well, technically, it’s not blind, i have a feeling you’ve seen him around.”

“please! this is exactly what you need.” chaewon chimed in, nudging your body.

“i don’t know…” you trailed off hesitantly.

“why not?” haechan jumped in. “it’s not like you have anything to lose, right? and besides, it’ll be fun.”

“and it will be a good distraction from you-know-who.” chaewon chipped in.

they were all looking you, waiting for your response. you paused, contemplating their suggestion.

they were right. you had to stop considering Jeno in all your decisions. especially after tonight when he so painfully cannot let go of her even after your moment with him. it was clear where you stand in jeno’s life—his best friend who he had slept with. going on a date with a handsome stranger did spark something within you.

“fine.” you sighed, making them cheer. mark already reached for his phone. “don’t make me regret this.”

as excitement filled the room, you couldn’t help but be thankful that your friends were helping you keep your mind off of jeno. maybe this distraction was precisely what you needed.

you fixed your hair in the mirror's reflection one last time before heading out. today was your date with mark’s friend, jaemin. his name sounded oddly familiar to you, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you heard it. you figured it was a common name around the city, so you brushed it off.

to say you were not nervous would be a lie. your heart beat against your chest as you waited for the knock on your door. mark sent you jaemin’s number so you could set up the details yourselves. you’ve briefly exchanged conversations with the mystery guy, and you found out he was in the same year you were at university. it made you wonder if you had crossed paths with him.

jaemin persistently insisted that he come to pick you up at your place, claiming he is a gentleman. which was a massive check in your book, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. it was charming and refreshing. so here you were in a white silky long-sleeve dress that stopped mid-thigh, stocking on, and nice cute heels to go along with the outfit. he had told you to dress not too fancy but not too casual either, and you figured this was the best you could come up with.

moments later, the inevitable knock on your door came. you smoothed out the fabric of your dress before approaching the door.

“hi–” you pulled the door open and faced him, the wind knocking out of your body once you laid eyes on him.

jaemin was gorgeous. his black hair falling in the most perfect way possible. he was dressed in a black shirt that peeked through his jacket, paired with dark denim jeans. he emitted a calm, understated confidence that made your stomach flutter and your cheeks warm.

“hey.” jaemin greeted you, a smile on his lips, his voice warm and comforting. “you look—wow, stunning.” he breathed, feeling shy beneath his gaze.

“hi, jaemin.” you replied, returning his grin. “thank you. you’re not so bad yourself.”

jaemin chuckled, holding out his arm in a cheesy way. “shall we, m’lady?”

“oh god.” you covered your face with your hands.

“i’m kidding.” jaemin reached out to pull your arms away. “come on.” he slipped his grip from your arms to your hands, locking his fingers with yours. a bold move, but you liked it.

jaemin opened the car door for you. you silently thanked him as you slipped into the passenger seat. he closed the door gently before jogging to the driver's side.

“so,” jaemin spoke once he started the car. you turned to face him. “are you nervous?” a hint of playfulness in his eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his question. “kinda.” you admitted.

“good, that makes the two of us.”

the car ride was surprisingly comfortable. the small talk flowed easily, revealing more of his sweet and kind nature. you noticed how he drove the perfect speed to not make you nauseous, how he would avoid the potholes in the street so the ride wouldn’t be bumpy. you were hoping this entire night would keep your mind off the chaos you tried to bury.

he pulled up to a restaurant that was part of town that you were unsure if you’d been to before. the minimal but sophisticated signage illuminated the name that you were sure you couldn’t pronounce.

jaemin didn’t forget to open your car door for you once again. his hand resting on the small of your back as he navigated the both of you through the dimly lit restaurant. fancy. he gave his last name to the host before you were both assisted to your seats. as you followed the steps of your waiter, a familiar laughter erupting in the air made you stop in your tracks

no. it couldn’t be.

“jeno!” jaemin greeted the young man. jeno turned his head as he heard his name called, and his familiar eye smile made its way to his face once he saw jaemin. but his expression quickly faltered when he saw you were next to him. when did this happen? he wondered.

across from jeno was—you already guessed it—karina, who was slicing through her steak, unbothered by the newly arrived presence.

blood raced through your head, feeling dizzy when the two men exchanged greetings and surprisedness. of course, that was why jaemin was so familiar, he was jeno’s roommate! you have only been to jeno’s apartment a few times, and he told you that he had a roommate who was busy with his medical degree, so he always opted to hang out at your place. you never would’ve imagined that he was the same jaemin that lived with jeno. you silently cursed mark and his conniving ways; he probably set this up on purpose, too.

you stood still, watching the scene before you unfold. the air suddenly felt tight as the waiter pointed to the two vacant seats directly beside jeno and karina. ringing noise infiltrated your ears as jaemin smiled and pulled out the chair for you to sit in.

“can—are there any other seats?” you asked the waiter. this time, karina dropped her utensils at the familiar voice, her brow raising at the sight of you. “i just—it’s too hot in here.” you stammered, gripping the back of your chair.

the scene in front of you felt like a cruel twist of fate. the universe couldn’t have planned this better if it had tried. out of all the restaurants in the city, you just had to end up here. with jeno. and karina. together. on the night that you were supposed to forget said people.

“are you okay?” jaemin was quick to your side, worry plastered on his face. his genuineness added to the heaviness of your chest. you sent him a weak smile, brushing off his worries.

“i’m sorry, miss.” the waiter said apologetically, bowing his head lightly. “we are fully booked tonight.” you pursed your lips, nodding at him.

the last thing you wanted was to sit through an awkward dinner with jeno within your eyes and earshot while his girlfriend smugly sat mere inches beside you, completely unaware of what happened between you and jeno. but you couldn’t let jaemin’s effort go to waste. you fixed your posture, grabbing jaemin’s outstretched hand that was waiting for you, and you sat on the chair he pulled out for you.

you couldn’t help it; you hesitantly glanced at jeno, whose gaze was intent on you, jaw almost clenching at your presence. swallowing hard, you lifted the menu to cover your face from his intense stare, questioning what you had done to deserve this.

somehow, jaemin couldn’t sense the tension between you and his roommate. he talked to you with a sweet smile, but you could barely register his words because you kept zoning his words out due to the presence next to him.

“oh! have i told you that this guy,” jaemin pointed his thumb to jeno who suddenly turned to look at him. “is my roommate! what a small world.” he chuckled.

your stomach dropped. of course, he had to bring it up. you chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether you should mention the nature of your relationship with jeno.

karina, who overheard your conversation, snickered before chiming in. “of course, she would know, silly! she’s jeno’s best friend.”

“wait, what?” jaemin’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze flicking from you to jeno. “you two know each other?” he questioned.

“yeah.” you forced a tight lip smile, feeling the heat creep up your neck. “we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“wait, so you’re y/n—jeno’s y/n?” you winced at his words, hating how you were addressed. he wasn’t yours, and you certainly weren’t his. “oh my god, how didn’t i connect the dots sooner.” he mumbled, more to himself, still surprised by the proximity of relationships.

jeno let out a dry chuckle at his reaction, trying to mask his stern expression. the room suddenly felt hot. you reached for the glass of water and sipped it in the cool liquid to neutralize your throat.

“this makes tonight even better! no first-date awkwardness since you’re practically family with jeno.”

you choked on the water, the liquid spilling from your lips as you coughed, making jaemin’s eyes widen. people started to stare, but jaemin was already rushing to your side to help wipe the spilled water. out of the corner of your eye, you noticed jeno slightly twitch as if he wanted to offer some help but restrained himself, letting jaemin do the work. his jaw was tight; his lips were pressed into a thin line.

you wanted to crawl under the table. family? the word felt like a bucket of ice being poured down your body—literally. the word was laughable, given everything that happened between you and jeno.

jeno tried to peel his eyes away as jaemin’s hands roamed your body. averting his gaze to karina, his lovely girlfriend. he reminded himself.

once jaemin made sure you were okay, you thanked him, and he returned to his seat, apologizing to the other tables bothered by your sudden outburst. cheeks heating up when you realize a lot of people were witnesses to your clumsiness.

the food you ordered shortly arrived. the smell of freshly cooked meat and pasta filling the air, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the plates were set up in front of you. the meal provided a much-needed distraction, and the night seemed to flow more smoothly for a while. jeno finally fixed his gaze to fixate on his date, and you were paying attention to yours.

“hm, what are your pet peeves?” jaemin asked, taking a bite of his food.

you paused for a second, profoundly considering his question. “i hate liars.” you blurted out. you didn’t miss the way jeno’s hand froze mid-way into feeding the spoon into his mouth. “i hate when people tell me they’ll do something or take care of something for me but end up not keeping their end of the bargain.” you kept your tone casual. still, you knew you got the message across—even to the table beside you.

jaemin nodded along. “yeah, i get that.” his tone was empathetic. “it’s frustrating when someone doesn’t follow through. makes them seem untrustworthy.”

you smiled at him, grateful that he shared the same views as you. you stole a quick glance at jeno, whose gaze was fixed on the plate on the table, but his hand was nearly turning red from his grip on the utensil. karina, who seemed confused by his sudden behavior, reached out to grab his hand in hers, making jeno look up and let out a sigh—you don’t know whether it was one of contentment or annoyance.

“please excuse me, i need to run to the bathroom real quick.” you mumbled to jaemin, flashing him a small smile as you slid your chair back. he nodded, returning a gentle smile, averting his attention to his phone while he waited for you to return.

jeno heard your excuse, eyes scanning karina who was too busy consuming her dessert before flickering to you who disappeared into the hallway that lead to the restroom.

without much thought, jeno impulsively excused himself from karina, muttering something about needing to wash his hands.

you leaned against the bathroom sink, sighing to yourself before running the cold water over your hands to somehow calm your nerves. jeno was confusing you. you hated not knowing what he was thinking, not having control over the situation. you didn’t have it in you to actually talk to jeno about the previous events. you were afraid of hearing the truth—that he chose her, like he did over and over again.

the sound of the bathroom door creaking open brought you to your senses. you glanced in the mirror, expecting another customer, your heart skipping when you saw jeno standing there, his expression unreadable.

“jeno? what are you doing here?” you whispered, eyes wide as you realized he’s in the women’s bathroom.

“jaemin, really?” jeno snorted, face contorting into anger? annoyance? you couldn’t tell, in fact you were confused as to why he was acting out of proportion. “out of all the people, you chose my friend?”

“i didn’t know he was your friend.” you defended, frowning at his accusation. “and why do you care?” you prodded, trying to grasp the situation.

“i don't.” jeno shot back. “as your friend,” he said, as if the word was laced with venom. “i’m just looking out for you. jaemin’s very busy with his degree and i doubt he has time to settle down.”

you couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “that’s rich coming from you.” you spat. “and friend? really? friends don’t do what we did, jeno.” you angrily whispered the last part, cautious of the people around.

jeno lightly flinched at your words, the sentence hanging heavy in the air. you sighed, getting ready to walk past him but he caught your arm before you could leave.

“i’m sorry.” jeno mumbled, regret evident in his eyes.

you shook your head, the lump in your throat threatening to be released. “just go back to her, jeno. isn’t that what you’re best at?” you pushed past him, shoulders brushing against one another, leaving jeno alone in the bathroom.

jaemin drove you back to your apartment. jeno and karina had left moments before you did, allowing you to let out a sigh of relief as soon as they were gone. you offered to pay for half the meal, but jaemin insisted on covering it, even sneaking in a small “you cover it next time,” accompanied by a wink that made your heart flutter.

jaemin was perfect. he lived up to mark’s description of him—kind, sweet, and painfully handsome. you’ve caught yourself staring at his face down to his lips more times than you cared to admit. there were even moments when your eyes drifted to his biceps when he shrugged his jacket off.

but somehow, deep inside, your mind stubbornly drifted back to the one person you wanted nothing more than to forget. seeing jeno witness you on a date to sparked a sense of satisfaction within you—a small win to prove to him (and maybe even yourself) that you were capable of forgetting that night. but the truth lingered in the back of your mind: you hadn’t. the little encounter you had with him also etched in your mind, still wondering what the meaning of all of it was. that night replayed over and over, making it impossible to let go. you convinced yourself that you didn’t care that he was still with karina, but it was like a fever burning you alive. every time you saw her, the weight of your actions dragged you down. you slept with her boyfriend, and no self-justification could erase the betrayal that you had inflicted. you weren’t sure if you could ever forgive yourself for it.

jaemin seemed quieter on the drive home, and you wondered if you ticked him off. he barely spared you a glance, and it made you even more nervous.

did he not enjoy the date? had you done something to upset him?

as he pulled up to your apartment, you beat him to open your door for you, wanting to escape the suffocating confines of the vehicle.

“hey, y/n.” jaemin called out when you barely glanced in his direction, directly jogging to your apartment entrance. you froze in your spot, barely entering your complex when he caught up to you. he stopped in front of you, his frame towering over yours beneath the moon's soft glow.

“did i do anything wrong?” you blurted out, avoiding eye contact with him.

“what? no.” jaemin’s eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head, sincerity dripping from his voice. “i was just thinking about how much i wanna kiss you tonight… but i didn’t want to scare you off.” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

the anxiety and tension within your body dissipated from his mere confession. you blinked up at him, processing his words. the knot in your stomach unraveled, and you felt foolish for jumping to the worst conclusion.

jaemin took a step closer, his warmth engulfing you. he lifted his hand, fingers gently tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear. the soft touch sent a flutter through your body, instinctively leaning against his touch.

“can i?” he asked softly, voice so tender it was enough to make you melt.

you nodded, unable to find the words.

jaemin leaned in, your eyes falling shut as he minimized the distance between you. when his lips finally met yours, it was soft and gentle. his hand cupping your cheek while his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his so that you were chest-to-chest.

his kiss wasn’t rushed and overwhelming—it was perfect as if he was savoring every moment.

he pulled away, lips mere inches from yours as you both caught your breaths. “i’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

you giggled at his confession, cheeks burning as you met his eyes. you placed your palms against his chest, fingers tapping. “i’m glad you did.”

jaemin grinned at you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “good.” he said softly. “because i’d like to do it again sometime.”

your lips parted to respond, but he placed a quick but affectionate kiss on your forehead before you could. a small gesture, but it made your knees weak.

“goodnight, y/n.” he mumbled, stepping away from you with a small wave.

“goodnight, jaemin.” you replied, smiling at him.

with one last glance, he turned and walked back to his car, leaving you with a smile you couldn’t seem to wipe away.

“tell me everything!” chaewon’s voice echoed throughout the apartment the second you stepped foot in it. you laughed as she almost tripped, making her way to you. she grabbed your hands, shaking them excitedly. “well?” she questioned, voice jumping an octave. “was he nice? handsome? did you kiss?” she gasped, hand covering her mouth. “did you fuck?”

“chaewon!” you playfully scolded her, as she guided you to the couch. her knees tucked beneath her as she looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to fill her on what happened.

you took a deep breath before you disclosed everything that had happened that evening. how jaemin was a perfect guy—not forgetting to mention how handsome he is—and how jeno and karina were at the restaurant you were at, deciding to leave out your encounter with jeno in the bathroom.

“what, what?” chaewon exclaimed, “they were there? out of all places jaemin could’ve taken you to?” she tried to suppress her laughter, but you saw how amused she was by your revelation.

“i know.” you groaned, letting your body fall on the sofa, head landing on her lap. “i’m convinced the universe hates me.” you covered your face with your hands.

“how did you feel?” chaewon asked, patting your head that was laid down on her lap. “when you saw jeno and karina together?”

you pondered for a second. how did you feel? there was a mix of emotions that coursed through you—guilt, anxiety, jealousy, anger. everything felt so different. jeno is—or was—your best friend. whenever you two argued, it could usually be resolved over a shared tub of ice cream, but this situation felt far beyond the reach of simple, sweet solutions.

no one knew about what happened that night, and it seemed like he had no intention of telling anyone either. you were equally guilty, of course, having taken part in such a scandalous act. but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak the truth aloud.

“i don’t know.” you mumbled, pulling your hands away. “i told myself before that i’ve accepted it, that he will never like me, but…” you trailed off, contemplating whether you should tell her to truth or just keep it to yourself a little longer. “but i have got to stop lying myself. i’m losing my goddamn mind because of him.” she nodded to your words. “it’s just so hard to pretend that he’s just my friend, chae.” a tear slipped from your eye, and she immediately reached to wipe it off.

chaewon stayed silent, still gently brushing your hair. “it’s okay.” she comforted, flashing you a soft smile. “you can’t just flip a switch and stop caring about someone who’s been such a big part of your life.”

her words struck like a chord. you blinked at her, sighing. “i just thought it would be easier as time passed by.” this time, you couldn’t stop the tears that gushed. you hadn’t realized how much you’ve been carrying alone. it was too much. you needed to clear your head.

“you’re not alone in this, okay? you’ve got me, mark, haechan, and now… even jaemin.” she wiggled her eyebrows, a teasing smile on her lips.

a small laugh escaped you despite the tears. “jaemin.” you repeated, the thought of him momentarily bringing you joy.

“excatly! and from what you told me, he sounds like a dream.” chaewon’s excitement bubbled up again. “now tell me more about him!”

the front door opened and shut, making jeno stand from his bed and walk out to the living room. jaemin was setting his keys down on the counter while shrugging his jacket off when he spotted jeno.

“hey, jeno.” jaemin greeted, smiling at him. “tonight was crazy! i didn’t even know she was the same y/n you told me about.” he recalled, heart feeling warm at the thought of you.

“yeah,” jeno replied gruffly, “so listen,” he started, making jaemin turn to him, listening intently. “y/n’s… my best friend, and i wouldn’t want anything—or anyone to hurt her, you know?” he threaded lightly, careful not to show too much emotion, but enough to get the message across. he knew he had no right to tell you who to date but something about seeing you with jaemin stirred something within him and he didn’t know if he wants to find out.

jeno couldn’t bring himself to admit it. he had been avoiding you as much as you were to him. he couldn’t face the consequences of his actions. this was unlike him. he didn’t mean to lie to his girlfriend—didn’t mean to lie to you. when he told you he was going to fix it, he thought he could get it over with karina. he saw you in the back of his mind every time he closed his eyes. he remembers the soft feeling of your lips against him or how your bodies were pressed up against one another. he felt like shit, having all these thoughts about a girl—his best friend—while he had a girlfriend. but something tugged at his heart, the sight of her brought him back to reality, grounding him.

how could he trade what he had for something uncertain?

jeno loved karina. he. loved. her. so he convinced himself. she was perfect—beautiful, confident, and everything he thought he wanted. he felt a pang of guilt every time he kissed her, every time he touched her. how could he hurt the woman he claimed he loved?

so why did the thought of jaemin kissing you make him feel like he was losing something he never realized he wanted?

jaemin raised a brow but nodded anyway. “of course, man. i like her. i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up.”

all jeno could do was nod, although the weight never left his chest. “thanks, jaem, that’s all i needed to hear.” he forced a smile before retreating back to his room.

your laughter echoing through the hall made jeno freeze. what were you doing here? he thought to himself. he curiously opened his bedroom door, trying to eavesdrop.

“sorry, it’s a bit of a mess. i haven’t had time to clean up.” jaemin nervously laughed, trying to chuck away any trash or mess lying around.

you giggled at his nervousness, “it’s fine, jaemin.”

you were here for jaemin, of course. jeno scoffed, shutting his door to try and drown out the noise.

it had been a week since your first date with jaemin, and the two of you had been texting constantly the minute you parted ways. to say he was great would be an understatement—he was perfect. he knew exactly what to say to sweep you off your feet, leaving you smiling and giggling at your phone more often than you’d like to admit. however, as much as jaemin was perfect, your heart had a way of tugging at you, persistently reminding you of the one person you were trying so hard to erase from your mind.

jaemin invited you over to his—and jeno’s—apartment. you were weary of accepting his invitation at first, not wanting to invade jeno’s space, especially after your encounter with him. but jaemin seemed so excited to see you again, and despite everything, you were, too. you decided not to let jeno affect your relationship with jaemin.

you took a seat on the far end of the couch while jaemin sat on the opposite. he shot you a funny look before patting over to the space beside him. “why are you so far?”

you were as nervous as him. you hadn’t been alone with a boy—other than jeno, mark, or haechan—in so long you weren’t sure if you could contain yourself. after all, you are still a very hormonal girl.

“no reason.” you mumbled, but your expression failed you. you were getting goosebumps with the simple chill of the air. jaemin chuckled, deciding to slide over to your side instead. your thighs touching from his sudden proximity.

“you’re cute.” jaemin muttered, his hand moving to brush the stray hair that fell on your face.

“are you sure jeno doesn’t mind that i’m here?” you questioned, facing jaemin.

“you’re literally best friends, i know he doesn’t mind.” he smirked, eyes falling to your lips.

oh, but jeno minded. he minded a lot. it wasn’t his fault that the walls in this apartment were thin. your voices pierced through, hearing your every word, every laugh. his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite place his finger on—guilt? frustration? jealousy? all he knew was that hearing you with jaemin felt like a knife twisting deeper with every passing second.

“you’re so beautiful.” jaemin mumbled, licking his lips. you placed your hands on his chest, tugging the collar of his shirt slightly closer to you. his breath fanned your face as he inched closer to you. “just wanna kiss you all day.”

you closed the gap between your lips, savoring his taste. jaemin wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you so that you were straddling his thighs. you gasped at his suddenness, but you secretly liked it anyway, looping your arms around his neck. he effortlessly slipped his tongue into your mouth, taking control, and you let him.

you felt his growing bulge beneath you, making you giggle into the kiss. you ground your hips against him, pressing onto his cock, eliciting a groan from him. “who knew you were so naughty, hm?”

jeno had enough. he purposely pulled his door open, making a loud enough commotion to have you and jaemin separate from each other. you were about to hop off jaemin’s lap, but his grip on your hips prevented you from leaving.

“jeno, didn’t know you were here!”

“yeah, well, i live here too.” jeno grumbled, pretending to go to the kitchen and look for a drink. he saw you sitting on jaemin’s lap, and it felt like he was punched in the gut.

from jeno’s point of view, he could only see your face and the back of jaemin’s head. jeno’s eyes locked with yours, his jaw clenched as his gaze flickered to the both of you. your cheeks grew warm, your hands resting awkwardly on jaemin’s shoulders as if unsure where they should be.

“please don’t fuck,” jeno paused, eyes directly fixated on you, his eyes dark. your heart sped up, somehow getting his message. “on the couch.” maybe you were reading too much into it.

jaemin chuckled, his grip on you tightened, and suddenly, he stood up and held you in his arms. you yelped, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “we’ll move this party elsewhere.” he guided you towards his bedroom, leaving jeno alone in the kitchen with his fist curled up into a ball as he watched you descend into the room.

only a thin wall was separating him from you and jaemin. jeno knew what you two were up to. he sat on his chair, facing his desk, head in his hands as he tried to contain himself. his curiosity got the best of him. he stood up, walking towards the wall that faced jaemin’s room and pressing his ear against the wall.

holy shit. jeno thought. he could hear your soft moans through the mall, his mind flashing back to the night you spent together. the sound immediately traveling to his dick. jaemin either had his fingers or dick in you because the way you were whining for him sounded so pretty.

jeno couldn’t help it, he palmed himself through his pajamas, ear still pressed against the wall.

“fuck, jaemin.” he heard you cry out. he bit his lip, trying to prevent any noise from escaping him as he took his cock out of his bottoms. it didn’t take long before he heard clapping and squelching sounds from the other side of the room.

jeno was upset—upset that he had to listen to another guy fuck you while he pathetically jerked himself off. his fingers wrapped around his length, closing his eyes while he listens to your moans. he imagined you. imagined how you were in his room instead of the other. imagining how it was your fingers wrapped around his cock. he began to stroke himself slowly, his thumb smearing the pre-cum that managed to spurt from his tip.

your moans began to get louder, jeno began picking up his pace. fucking his hand with every sound that left your lips. his mind convinced himself that you were making such pretty noises for him. he contained the grunts that threatened to escape his mouth, lips nearly bleeding from holding back. you began chanting jaemin’s name through breaths, indicating that you were close. jeno continued stroking himself until he came hard with his hand around his length, just from the sound of your moans.

you jolted awake, glancing at the clock, the number 1:43 am on display. after you and jaemin had sex, you immediately passed out, not having a chance to get ready for sleep. jaemin’s arm was lazily wrapped around your waist. you gently pushed it away. your throat felt dry, so you decided to sneak into the kitchen to grab a glass. you picked up the discarded shirt on the ground—most likely jaemin’s—slipped it on, and put on your underwear before tiptoeing out of his room, careful not to make too much noise.

in the midst of chugging down a cold glass of water, the sound of a door opening was heard from the end of the hall. it was jeno’s room. you froze, realizing you were not in proper attire right now. you set the glass on the sink before trying to retreat into jaemin’s room.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice echoed through the hall. you mentally cursed as you got caught, thankful the room was still dark. that was until he met you in the kitchen, hand instinctively reaching for the switch to turn on the overhead lights. his breath hitched once he took in your state. legs bare and nipples hard against your plain white shirt that stopped just below your ass. it was like the universe wanted him to sin. “what are you doing awake?” he managed to let out once his eyes stopped taking in your figure. his voice was rough as if he had just woken up from slumber.

“just thirsty.” you mumbled, cheeks getting warm at your semi-exposed state. jeno wasn’t that covered at all, too. he was in his plaid pajama pants that hung low on his waist, and his chest was bare, his toned abs emphasizing under the dim lights.

jeno hummed, walking carefully towards you. “couldn’t sleep?”

you nodded, instinctively trying to move further away from him, but you bumped into the kitchen island behind you. trapped, you placed your hands against the counter to support yourself, forcing you to meet his eyes. you couldn’t understand the emotion behind them. your mind was getting hazy from his gaze. as much as you wanted to cower and run away, your feet seemed to stop working for some reason.

jeno leaned in slightly, his arms on either side of you as he gripped the edge of the counter, effectively caging you in. your whole body froze, unsure what to do next. all you know is his scent was once again invading your space. his face was so close to you that it reminded you of the night you spent together.

“why do you keep doing this to me?” he whispered, breath fanning your face.

“i’m not doing anything.” you defended, but your voice came out soft.

“exactly.”

jeno kissed you, and you kissed him back. your arms traveled around his neck, pulling him close to you. notwithstanding the fact that the guy you were seeing was in the other room, merely a few steps away from where you were.

the effect jeno had on you was different, almost perplexing. it was like he knew exactly how to get under your skin—like he knew that you would come crawling back to him like how he would to her.

jeno wrapped his arms around your waist. his tongue effortlessly slid into your mouth, twirling it around yours. suddenly, he hoisted your body so that you were sitting on the island counter, making you gasp through the kiss.

“open your legs for me.” he mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

you did as he told, spreading your legs. he stood in between them, giving you another short kiss before his hands traveled to slightly lift the hem of your shirt, just enough to give him the perfect view of your lacy underwear.

jeno groaned once he saw the wet patch forming between your legs. “you just got fucked two hours ago, and you’re still this wet?”

“how did you—“

“you’re not exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

you cowered, head turning away from him, but his fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at him. his other hand hooking the waistband of your underwear, playing with it.

“can’t believe you’d rather get fucked by him when i’m right here.”

you glared at him. “this is wrong.”

“do you want me to stop?” you stayed silent, making him smirk. “that’s what i thought.”

jeno pulled your underwear down your legs in a painfully deliberate manner, making you swat his arm. he laughed, letting the fabric fall down the floor.

“keep laughing. i can just wake him up, and he’ll do it for me.”

jeno’s laughter faltered, a dark look in his eyes replacing his playful mood. “not fucking funny.” his hand cupped your core, a small yelp escaping your lips. his fingers ran down your folds, spreading your arousal.

your hands fell to his shoulders, gripping it as he teased your hole. it felt so wrong, but you had clearly decided to throw your morals out the window long ago.

“don’t like seeing you with him.” jeno admitted, his voice low. his confession was supposed to drive you crazy, instead, it felt unfair—like he wasn’t keeping his end of the deal.

“j-jeno.” you moaned, mindful of the volume of your voice. his fingers circled your entrance, just enough to drive you crazy. “you can’t tell me what to do.” you managed to let out, keeping him in place. it was almost absurd how he had the nerve to admit that he didn’t like seeing you with another guy while having a whole girlfriend himself. you bit your tongue back because, well, he was touching you so good, and quite frankly, you didn’t want him to stop.

“maybe,” he hummed before inserting two digits into your entrance. your head dropped to his shoulder, heavily breathing against his skin. he pulled his fingers out before inserting them again, your wetness coating his digits. “but at least i have you moaning my name like the slut you are.”

jeno thrusted his fingers at a pace that had your vision clouded with stars. your fingernails dug into his skin as he curled his fingers, hitting all your sweet spots. you bit your lip to avoid making too much noise, especially since jaemin was just in the room next to yours. his free hand snaked to your hair, gripping it while pulling your head away from his shoulder—careful not to tug on it too harshly—making you look at him in the eye.

“keep quiet. don’t want loverboy to find you grinding on my hand now, do we?” jeno smirked, making your mouth water.

you squirmed at the stretch of his fingers. when he felt you clench around him, he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing addicting circles on it. his fingers effortlessly sliding in and out of you. his eye contact was overwhelming as he watched you tremble from his mere touch.

“oh god.” you cried out, face scrunching from the pleasure. your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to feel more.

jeno’s pajamas grew tighter at the sight of you, wishing nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless on this counter—but he couldn’t. not when you just emerged from the room of one of his closest friends, where you did the same activities he wished he could’ve done with you. so he resorted to making you cum just with his fingers.

“be a good girl,” jeno mumbled, pressing his lips against yours. “and cum for me.” he increased the pace in which he was thrusting his digits, each one accompanied by the slight curl of his fingers.

your back arched just by his words, body pushing into him as small gasps left your lips. he almost smiles at the way you looked. so fucking cute, he thought.

“shit—jeno.” you whimpered. your stomach contracted, a clear sign that you were close. and with his thumb doing miracles on your clit, you couldn’t help but cum all over his fingers.

a string of curse words fell from your lips. legs trembling and breath shaking as you rode out your high. your posture nearly giving up as you tried to compose yourself.

jeno pulled his fingers away from your pussy. he couldn’t resist placing them in his mouth, lapping up your juices while maintaining eye contact with you.

that was so hot.

you swatted his arm, feeling shy, but he only chuckled. he leaned down, grabbing your discarded underwear from the floor. “can i keep this?” he boldly asked.

you pondered for a second before quickly snatching the item from his hand. “and if karina finds it?”

jeno grumbled, shoulders slouching from the thought of his girlfriend. “killjoy.” he muttered.

you hopped off the counter, slipping your underwear on. “i gotta go before jaemin wakes up.”

“right.” jeno mumbled, eyes lingering on you for a second, “no goodnight kiss?” he sure was getting comfortable.

“don’t push it.”

you sneaked back into jaemin’s room. his sleeping figure peacefully lying on the bed, almost in the same position you left him in. you nibbled on your bottom lip as guilt started to creep in. you occupied the space next to him. his unconscious self felt your presence, immediately wrapping his arm around your waist. you decided to close your eyes, slumbering taking over you while the weight of your actions sat on you.

you: i need u where are u mark: ??? i am not your sneaky link you: not like that asshole. need someone to talk to mark: diner? you: be there in 10

your eyes scanned the diner, looking for mark’s blond hair to stand out. spotting him at the corner booth, you slid into the empty seat before him. his head looking up to face you, his usual smile plastered on his face.

“hey, nerd.” mark greeted. “you okay? i thought you wanted to fuck me or something.” he chuckled, nudging his plate of fries close to you.

you groaned, head falling to the table. “i’ve had enough of fucking friends for a lifetime.” you mumbled, voice low.

“what’d you say?”

you lifted your head, crossing your arms on top of the table. “you have to promise not to be mad, okay?” you pouted.

“it depends.”

“mark! i’m serious, i don't think i can't take it anymore.” you groaned.

“is this about jeno?”

“what?” your eyes widened, head tilting at him. “not that i’m saying it is, but why did you think that?”

“it’s obvious. you two aren’t hanging as much as you used to. i just figured you got into a fight or something.” mark shrugged, leaning against the chair.

“before i tell you, you have to promise not to judge and that you won’t think any less of me.”

“alright, fine. i promise.” mark raised his hands in defeat.

you let out a sigh before telling him everything. starting from the night of the party—how that one tiny kiss led to the chaos you were now tangled in. you opened up about your feelings for jeno and how conflicted you were now that jaemin’s in the picture. you told him about how guilty you were for doing this to karina. then you moved on to your encounter at jeno and jaemin’s apartment.

mark’s expression shifted throughout your story. his expression juggling between shocked and confused. his brows furrowed in concern, mouth dropping in shock. he let out tiny coughs whenever the story steered into messy territory, his eyes wandering anywhere but on you, trying his best to keep his promise of not judging you.

when you finally finished summarizing everything to him, you covered your face with your hands, ashamed of your story. although your chest felt lighter at the thought of finally confiding about your situation with someone like you had just ripped open a wound and exposed it to the world.

“wow,” mark started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “that’s… a lot.”

“i know.” you grumbled, looking down at the table.

“but i’m not mad at you.” he quickly assured, his tone gentle. “and i don’t think less of you. after all, you’re still human, y/n. it must’ve been so confusing for you.” his hand reached across the table, taking your hand in his, in an attempt to comfort you. “i won’t lie, this is really messy, but you’re not a horrible person. you just made bad decisions, but it doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

anxiety washed over you, you wanted to believe his words, but a part of you was convinced he was only saying this because he’s your friend. you shook your head, feeling defeated. “i don’t know, mark. i just… i could’ve stopped it, you know? but i felt stuck.” your throat tightened as the words left your mouth. “i was too caught up in this—this fantasy of mine that i didn’t realize i’d be hurting people.”

mark’s thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. “hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? the first step is being honest—talk to jeno. if you really regret it, tell him this… thing between you has got to stop. he’s your best friend, y/n, and he has a girlfriend, i know it hurts, but we can’t force things to happen.”

he was right. you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, especially with other people involved.

“yeah.” you whispered, voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. “i’m sorry, mark.”

“don’t apologize to me.” mark squeezed your hand. “i’ll support you no matter what, but you have got to clean this up. because the longer you wait, the worse it will get.”

you stood outside the lecture hall where jeno was, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you waited for the bell to dismiss his class.

after your conversation with mark and a sleepless night, you decided to confront jeno. the weight on your chest had become unbearable, and you knew it was time to address everything head-on.

“jeno—” you called out as students began to flood out of the room, but your voice faltered when you saw that karina trailed behind him, naturally reaching for his hand.

jeno’s head turned at the sound of your voice. his eyes widened when they landed on you, surprise evident in his expression. he hesitated before walking toward you, karina following at his side.

“y/n? what’s wrong?” jeno wondered, his tone soft. you weren’t exactly on speaking terms recently, so you looking for his presence was news to him. karina stood beside him, making your stomach twist uncomfortably. she glanced between the two of you, curiosity and perhaps suspicion flickering across her face.

you gave karina a polite nod, barely meeting her eyes. you couldn’t even face her; seeing him with her stung, and you didn’t even have the right to be hurt. she returned the gesture with a tight, hesitant smile. you always sensed that she wasn’t fond of you, you couldn’t blame her—especially with recent events.

“i need to talk to you,” you pleaded, looking up at him. “alone, please?”

karina’s expression shifted, but she said nothing. jeno glanced at her, silently asking for permission. she gave him a nod as jeno mumbled something you couldn’t hear. she let go of his hand after he let her go with a quick peck on the lips, making you avert your gaze elsewhere—the simple act making your chest tighten with jealousy and guilt tangled together.

jeno returned his gaze to you and gestured his hand for you to lead the way.

you ended up at the park located on campus. given your situation, a secluded area wouldn’t be the best for you right now. you and jeno sat on a bench with the perfect fountain view. chatter could be heard from around you, and it somehow eased your senses.

you stayed quiet, pondering on what to say to him. this morning you woke up with a heavy heart. you spent all night thinking about mark’s advice. the events of the past month haunted you. although your time with jaemin had been filled with warmth and laughter, the guilt clawed at your chest, begging to be released. you felt like you couldn’t entirely give yourself to him without addressing the elephant in the room with jeno.

it was unfair—to jaemin, who had been nothing but kind and sweet, and to yourself, for carrying a weight that wasn’t entirely yours to bear. it was also hypocritical, you were doing to jaemin exactly what you hated that jeno was doing to karina.

“y/n?” jeno’s voice bringing you out of your trance. you lifted your head to face him, his eyes filled with sincerity. “are you okay?”

you looked at him as if he had three heads. here you were, almost drowning in guilt, and he couldn’t even sense you were struggling. “are you serious, jeno?” you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest. the frustration you had bottled up spilled before you could register it. “you’re really asking if i’m okay?”

his eyes widened at your outburst, expression turning soft as he tried to read you. “i just—”

“i can’t take it anymore, jeno.” your voice turned soft, sighing. “this—what we’re doing, we can’t.”

“y/n…”

“can you be honest with me?” you asked. he nodded, gaze intent on you. “do you regret it? what we did?”

jeno paused for a second, scanning your exhausted expression. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he mumbled, voice low.

“that’s the thing, though.” you dryly chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “i’m already hurting. do you think it’s easy for me to see you with her, especially after what we’ve done?”

“what—”

“i like you, jeno.” you confessed, watching as his expression twisted into surprise. “i’ve liked you ever since we were kids, and i thought it was just a silly crush, but it’s not. i keep lying to myself that you’ll like me, that maybe you’ll see me the way i see you.” you spilled before you could even stop the words running out of your mouth. “every time you came to me when you fought, i thought that there was a reason you kept seeing me.” you blinked at him. “and i thought that you kissing me meant that you had the tiniest feelings for me, but you’re still with her, i see the way you look at her.”

“y/n, its not like that—”

“then what is it, jeno?” your voice trembled as you took a shaky breath. “because i—i’m losing my mind here, and you’re being… you’re being mean.”

“mean?”

“yes. you don’t have to lie, okay? i know i’m equally responsible for doing this with you, but i feel like i don’t deserve to be lied to. don’t tell me you’ll take care of things, and don’t tell me not to worry because i’ve been waking up worried ever since that happened! and what we did to jaemin the other day…”

“i’m sorry…”

“you love her, jeno. i get it. but do you have any idea how hard it was for me to see you run to her every time? how hard it was for me to pretend like i’m okay with just being your friend?” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, and you looked up to prevent them from falling.

“i didn’t—i never meant to make you feel this way, y/n.” the guilt in his eyes was so heavy it made your heart ache.

“then what did you mean to do?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“i don’t know.” jeno admitted, “i’m confused, y/n. i care about you a lot, okay? i really do, but i…”

“you love karina.” you finished for him.

jeno stayed silent, and that was all the confirmation you needed. you stood up abruptly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand before turning around to walk away from him, each step feeling heavier than ever

the sound of hurried footsteps followed you, but you refused to look back, not when you were this vulnerable. before you could take another step, a gentle hand on your arm prevented you from moving any further.

“y/n, wait.” jeno pleaded, softly tugging your arm to turn you. your teary eyes meeting his gaze.

“let me go, jeno.” you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself not to cry.

jeno’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go. “give me time.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what?”

“i—let me sort my thoughts first, okay?” jeno stared down at you, his eyes genuine. “i don’t what i’m doing. y/n. but i know that when i’m with you, it feels…right.”

“that’s not fair.” you frowned, shaking your head. “it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to me.” his words did nothing to ease the ache in your heart.

“i know, but…” his eyes never left yours. “i don’t want to lose you.”

you let out a bitter laugh, wiping your tears. “you don’t get to have it both ways, jeno. you can’t just keep me on the side while you figure yourself out.”

“i’m not trying to,” he said, stepping closer to you. his hand trailed down your arm to hold yours. your eyes widened, and you grew aware of the fact that you were in public. “please, just—wait for me.”

you opened your mouth to respond, to tell him how unfair he was being. but before you could muster up the words, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was soft but so desperate. the action filled with longing, as if it contained all the words he couldn’t say.

the world faded away as if you were the only people there, and all you could feel was him—his lips on yours. you hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

your mouth moved against his before you heard chatter around you, making you push his body off of you. he kept his hand on yours, refusing to let go.

“don’t walk away, yet.” jeno pleaded. “i’ll make things right. i’ll talk to her and figure it out. i promise.”

his words sent a pang through your chest, making you shake your head. “how am i supposed to believe you, jeno? you always went back to her regardless. how do i know this isn’t just another moment you’ll regret?”

jeno pondered for a second, “i’ll be honest with her. i’ll tell her everything.”

“and then what?”

“and then,” he brought your hand up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “i’ll come and find you.”

your breath hitched at the sincerity of his voice. you wanted to believe him, but the ache banging against your chest reminded you of the risk. taking a deep breath, you stepped back slightly, breaking his hold on your hand.

“i’ll give you time, jeno.” your voice was soft but firm. “but you need to figure this out, really figure it out, before i can even think about…” you trailed off, unsure about what to label the entire situation.

jeno nodded, determination in his eyes. “i’ll call you, okay?”

and with that, you turned and walked away, your heart pounding with both hope and fear as you left him standing there.

the day had slipped into the evening. jeno walked into the halls of his apartment, the soft glow of the sun casting shadows across the room, reminding him how long it had been since your conversation earlier.

he pondered how he would bring the situation up with karina. no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer bury this secret. his mind kept drifting back to you, to how you looked so disappointed in him, and every time it did, his chest tightened with the thought of how things would never be the same again.

jeno loved karina. every time he closed his eyes, there she was—her face, her smile. she was his anchor, the one thing in his life that he couldn’t discard. they knew each other’s flaws and strengths. they argued, but they always bounced back from it. sure, they had their differences, but they always got through it, finding their way to one another.

i’ve always loved her. jeno thought. that’s how it always was.

but you… you were different.

you were his best friend—the one who knew him. you had been there for him since day one. you experienced life together, laughing over stupid inside jokes, supporting different decisions, and comforting each other through the toughest times. you were his safety net. the person who he knew he could rely on when it felt like the world was against him.

jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. he had always considered you family—how could he not?

the thought of losing you terrified him. although he would be lying if he said he hadn’t had these flashes filled with thoughts of you. he’s used to dismissing them; it was you, for fuck’s sake. you had been his best friend for so long that even thinking of you differently felt crazy to him. but now, looking back to everything—the way his heart would race when your eyes met in a crowded room, the way his smile would reach his eyes when you laughed at something he said, the way he could always see you in the back of his mind—it all felt so clear.

realization came crashing down on him. his mind racing with thoughts of you. he thought it was just some passing attraction. but it was deeper than that. you were the only person who made him feel seen, the only one who showed him warmth. feelings he couldn’t even seek in karina, despite the love they shared. it terrified him.

he was too scared to admit it. he could no longer pretend. how could he? knowing a part of him belonged to someone else—someone who was not his girlfriend.

he felt sick, the guilt gnawing at him. he loved karina… didn’t he? his feelings for you were uncertain, fleeting… wasn’t it?

jeno opened the door to his bedroom, and his eyes widened at the sight.

“karina?” jeno questioned, brows furrowing. “what are you doing here?”

“jaemin let me in.” karina replied abruptly. her arms across her chest, an unreadable expression plastered on her face. she was sitting on the edge of the bed as if she was waiting for hours.

jeno set his things down on his desk before approaching karina. instinctively reaching up to kiss her, but she turned her head, his kiss landing on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, babe?” jeno asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“you tell me.” karina responded, fishing for her phone in her pocket. a confused expression latched on jeno’s face as he watched her tap away on her phone. she raised her phone and shoved it in his face. “care to explain?”

his heart stopped. the color drained from his face as he stared at the photo she was showing.

it was you and jeno—kissing.

he could tell from your outfits that the photo was taken earlier that day, during your heated conversation near campus.

jeno’s mouth went dry as he racked up a response. “i—“ he stammered, words failing to come out.

“don’t try to lie.” karina interrupted, her brow raising. “winter sent it to me. we both know she wouldn’t fabricate such things.”

jeno’s stomach dropped. of course, they were seen, they weren’t exactly keeping it private. “karina…” he started, thinking of words to say to her.

what exactly do you say at this moment?

“that’s y/n, isn’t it?” karina scoffed, standing up, her height barely meeting his. “i always knew she was a whore.”

“don’t say that.” jeno’s tone shifted, eyes darkening as his voice got firm.

“what?” karina asked incredulously.

“she’s not a whore.”

“are you seriously fucking defending her right now? she kissed you! my boyfriend!” karina spat.

“i kissed her.” jeno admitted, his gaze all over her face.

karina nearly lost balance at his confession. “you—what!” she exclaimed, a frown forming on her lips.

“i kissed y/n.” jeno repeated, his gaze unwavering. “and it isn’t the first time we kissed.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” karina’s voice cracked, disbelief was written all over her face.

“i slept with her on the night of the retreat.”

karina’s eyes widened. “jeno—“

“i started it. i think i’ve known for a while, but i refused to face it.” jeno couldn’t even fathom the words he was spitting out. “i think i’m in love with her.” he admitted, more

the room fell silent at the weight of his confession. the burden lifted off his chest as he comprehended what he had spilled.

“i can’t believe this.” karina shook her head, a bitter, sarcastic laugh slipping past her lips. “after my friends told me i’m way too good for you. you fucking cheated on me? with some bitch?”

“don’t drag her into this. it’s my fault.”

“fuck you.” karina spat, prodding a finger on his chest. “and fuck her, too.”

karina stormed out of the room, pulling the door wide and loud enough to cause a commotion.

jeno called after her, “karina, wait. i’m sorry!” he followed her through the hall.

“sorry?” karina shot back, spinning around to face him. “sorry you got caught, or sorry you have a homewrecker for a best friend?”

jeno winced at her words. “i’m sorry for what i did.” he replied softly. “for hurting you. you didn’t deserve that.”

karina stared up at jeno, eyes glistening as his previous confession came crashing down on her. “i never want to see you again, jeno.” she said, voice breaking before she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

jeno stood frozen in the hallway—the ghost of their conversation haunting the air.

“dude…” jaemin’s voice cut through the thick silence.

jeno turned to the source of his voice, a sullen expression on jaemin’s face. he was standing in the doorway of his room, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“jaemin!” jeno exclaimed, completely forgetting his roommate was next door. “did you—“

“you’re in love with y/n?” jaemin cut him off, his expression unreadable. he tilted his head as he looked at jeno. “why didn’t you tell me?” he crossed his arms across his chest.

jeno opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. he took a second before letting out a sigh. “i couldn’t—i wasn’t sure.” he admitted.

“did you… sleep with her when we were together?” jaemin treaded lightly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“no! no, we didn’t.” jeno defended, shaking his head. technically it wasn’t a lie. a little fingering doesn’t count as fucking, right?

“i see.” jaemin nodded, a weary look on his face. “i don’t think i can continue seeing her then.” he frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“what?”

“you love her, man.” jaemin sent him a small, sad smile. “i don’t want to stand between you.”

“but you said—“

“don’t get me wrong. she’s beautiful and amazing.” jaemin interrupted, holding a hand up. “but you’ve been there for each other since you were kids. i could never stand a chance.” he shrugged. his expression softening.

jeno swallowed, his chest tightening. he never meant for this to happen. jaemin is one of his best friends, and he had betrayed him. “she likes you, jaems.”

“but she loves you.” jaemin lifelessly chuckled. he took a step closer to jeno, placing his hand on his shoulder, and giving it a firm squeeze. “go get her, jeno.”

taking a deep breath, jeno smiled at jaemin. he knew what he had to do.

you anxiously stared at your phone, as if guarding it would make a notification pop up.

the entire night had been a blur of pacing around your room. the events of your conversation with jeno are stuck in an endless loop in your mind. you hated feeling this way, as if your heart was at someone else’s mercy.

“come on…” you muttered to yourself, checking your phone once more. nothing. just the same blank lock screen.

you sighed, flopping onto your bed and letting the pillows engulf your head. your chest felt heavy. what took him so long? he said he would fix things—was it a lie? maybe he changed his mind. maybe he—

your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you grabbed it, only for your heart to sink even deeper. it wasn’t jeno.

it was jaemin.

jaemin: hey, y/n. jaemin: i’m sorry to message so late. jaemin: i think it’s best if we stop seeing each other. jaemin: i’m sorry.

your head began to spin. your eyes scan his message repeatedly, trying to make sense of it.

what? your mind raced. this wasn’t what you expected. why would jaemin reach out? and why was his timing odd?

your fingers danced over the keyboard, thinking of a response. a hundred of questions swirled in your head. was this because of jeno? did something happen between them? did he find out what happened in his kitchen that one night?

you: did i do something wrong?

jaemin replied almost immediately.

jaemin: you deserve someone who can give you their all, and i don’t think i can. jaemin: take care, y/n.

your brows twisted into confusion. his response made you even more curious. his words sounded kind, almost too rehearsed. it was as if something was missing, and you couldn’t figure out what.

you stared at the screen, blinking at his message. your emotions swirling wildly between confusion, frustration, and hurt. and still nothing from jeno.

what the fuck was going on?

another buzz came from your phone. instantly checking it, your confusion growing deeper.

karina: never knew you were into boys who had girlfriends karina: *sent one photo*

holy shit.

you sat up in bed, heart banging against your chest. eyes refusing to leave the photo of you and jeno, openly kissing each other from earlier.

and karina knows.

your hands trembled, throat feeling tight. you dropped your phone on your bed and rushed out of your room. tears blurred your vision as the gravity of the situation finally sank in. you had no idea what to do, the room felt like it was shrinking by the second. you needed someone.

without thinking, you rushed out of your room and ran to chaewon’s. you banged on her door, your knuckles trembling as tears flowed down your face.

the door opened almost immediately, revealing chaewon in her pajamas, her eyes widening as she saw your state.

“y/n? babe, what’s wrong?” she instinctively wrapped her arms around you, her hand caressing the back of your head to console you.

“i fucked up.” you cried out, sniffling against her shirt, but knowing her, she doesn’t mind. “i didn’t—i wasn’t—” you stammered, head feeling light.

chaewon hummed, “hey, hey, it’s okay. slow down.” she pulled away just enough to see your face, “whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“chae, i—“ you gasped, unable to stop the tears from gushing out. “i need to tell you something.”

soon enough, you both sat on chaewon’s bed while she tried to comfort you. you told her everything, sparing no details. she sat silently while intently listening to your spew. from repeating your confession to mark to your encounter with jeno earlier, down to jaemin’s cryptic texts—and finally, the photo karina had sent you. by the time you finished, chaewon had a worried expression from your entire story.

“y/n…” chaewon began, and you flinched lightly. you knew she was serious; she would usually refer to you using endearments or your nickname, but the lack thereof told you she was not in the mood to tolerate your actions. “this is serious. i love you to death, but you fucked up.”

“i know,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears with the tissue she previously handed to you. “i don’t know what to do.”

chaewon let out a deep sigh, grasping your hand in hers. “first off,” she reached up and helped you wipe your tears. “you need to stop beating yourself up. i know you’re in a sticky situation, but falling apart isn’t going to help you figure it out.”

you nodded, even though her words hadn’t completely eased your mind.

“and second,” she continued, voice growing softer. “i know you won’t like it, but you need to stay away from jeno for a while. let him sort his shit out. give him time.”

even though you refused to face it, the weight of her words eventually sunk in. she was right. it would be unfair for you to force jeno to make his decision immediately, especially since he is in a relationship.

after a long night of sobbing in chaewon’s arms. you eventually passed out beside her, with the thoughts of jeno being the last thing you remembered.

lightning struck across the campus as you exited the library, tugging your coast closer in an attempt to shield yourself from the downpour. you silently cursed yourself for forgetting to bring an umbrella today. looking up at the sky, you wondered if you could bolt through the pouring rain.

it has been a week since your last encounter with jeno. it would be a lie if you said you were doing fine. every passing minute made you even more anxious. he had made some efforts to reach out to you—sending you texts, calling your phone, and even talking to your friends to ask and see you. but your guilt was weighed heavier than your longing, and you had convinced yourself that you couldn’t face him. not yet.

you stuck with chaewon’s advice; you gave him space. although you felt like the distance was killing you more than him.

you missed jeno. how could you not? he was your best friend. you were so used to being so close to him that the space between you was foreign. you missed having him over and talking about everything and nothing all at once. you missed hearing his voice and his comforting laugh. a smile crept up on your face every time you looked back at your memories with him, making you feel ridiculous.

it was foolish of you to think that you could sway him into thinking that you were the one for him. he always loved karina and you were afraid that it was what his heart was heading towards.

you tried reaching out to karina. you sent her an text even though you knew words alone wouldn’t be enough to mend the damage. once you saw that your message bounced back, you tried again on another platform, the same thing happened. you realized she had blocked you on every social media app. you don’t blame her, of course. you had to live with the pain you caused her.

you clutched your bag tightly before running out in the rain. your apartment was a ten-minute walk from campus—maybe less if you ran. the cold droplets seeped through your clothes as you hurried along the wet pavement, shivering as the storm grew.

you nearly reached your apartment when a car screeched to a halt in front of you, its headlights glaring through the rain, clouding your vision. your brows furrowed as you used your hand to shield the bright light. squinting as you tried to make out who was behind the wheel through the rain. the car door opened, revealing a tall figure emerging from the driver’s seat.

jeno.

“what are you doing out here in the rain?” jeno raised his voice enough for you to hear him through the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.

“i didn’t have a choice.” you admitted, your voice trembling from the cold and the sight of him. you watched, puzzled, as he left the warmth of his car to stand in the rain with you, water drenching his hair and clothes.

“aren’t you freezing?” jeno questioned, shrugging off his soaked coat and gently draping it around your shoulders.

“aren’t you?” you looked at him with wide eyes. the rain dripping down his face did him justice, he still looked beautiful.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he said, tone turning soft. deja vu. “why?”

“i thought you needed time.”

“i said i would come and find you.” his eyes locked on yours.

“karina sent me—“

“i know.” he interrupted. “i told her everything.”

your heart sped up. “how’d she take it?”

“we broke up.” he said, the weather matching his tone. “for real this time.”

“oh.”

“oh?” his brows furrowed, taking a step towards you. “that’s all you have to say? oh?”

“well, what do you want me to say?” you frowned. “thank you for breaking up with your girlfriend for me?”

“i didn’t—you know it wasn’t like that.”

“then what is it, jeno?”

“it’s you.” jeno said. even with the rain surrounding him, you heard him loud and clear. “it’s always been you.”

you blinked up at him, stunned, lips quivering.

“i was too blind to see it,” he continued, stepping closer until your chests were nearly brushing one another. “too scared to admit it. but it’s you, y/n. it’s always been you.”

your heart pounded as he raised his hands to cup your face. his gaze was soft and focused on you. only you.

and then his lips were on yours, warm despite the storm. you melted into the kiss, your hands clutching at his soaked shirt as the noise of the rain started to drown out. the kiss was soft but so full of emotion that it left you breathless.

“jeno…” you whispered once you pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.” you admitted, voice trembling.

“i missed you, too.” he mumbled, his lips brushing yours. “i’m not letting you go again.”

“kiss me.”

jeno didn’t hesitate. his lips found yours once again, kissing you softly but quickly turning passionately. his hand copper your cheek as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, asking for permission. you parted your lips, and he immediately shoved his tongue in your mouth, exploring it with hunger. a soft whimper escaped you as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer.

“need you,” he murmured, pulling away lightly. your gaze flickered briefly towards his car, and as if he had read your mind, he took your hand and guided you to his vehicle.

jeno parked the car on the side of the road, grateful that the rain had driven everyone to stay indoors. the windows fogged almost instantly as you both scrambled into the back seat, the heat between you radiating.

jeno’s hand found you once more, gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap. your legs straddling either sides of his thigh. he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you like he had been holding back for years. the rain was pounding on the roof of the car, but neither of you cared.

you could barely think, lost in the sensation of his touch as he slid down your coats. your heart beat against your chest once you made eye contact with him. you could make out the sharp lines of his face through the soft glow of the moon. your hand reaching up to caress his cheek, not believing that you had him in your clutches.

“what’s wrong?” jeno asked. “do you want me to stop?”

“no.” you instantly responded, shaking your head. “i just can’t believe it.”

“can’t believe what?” jeno’s lips trailed down your jawline, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“that you’re mine.”

“better believe it, baby. i’m not going anywhere.” jeno chuckled, kissing you again. his lips molded with yours slowly and sweetly. you pressed your body against his, hips instinctively grinding down on him.

“want you so bad.” jeno groaned, his hand reaching down to the hem of your shirt. looking up to you for confirmation, and when you showed no signs of refusal, he lifted the fabric off your body. leaving you in your soaked dark bra. “my beautiful girl.”

you grew shy beneath his gaze, trailing one finger down to the zipper of his jeans. “how bad?” you breathed, toying with his pants, feeling him grow hard below you.

“so fucking bad. i’ve been dreaming of having you again.” jeno admitted, hands roaming your body. reaching behind you to unclasp your bra—which he did effortlessly. once your breasts were on full display for him, he couldn’t help but attach his mouth to your nipple, enclosing his lips around the bud while his fingers circled the other. you moaned, arching your back, pushing your breasts closer to him.

in a swift motion, jeno’s shirt and pants were pulled off him and discarded somewhere in the car. your bottoms and underwear, too, were slid off your body. leaving the both of you breathless and naked.

jeno laid you down on the backseat, carefully trying to maneuver himself between your legs. his gaze on your completely bare body, all waiting and craving for him.

“you’re driving me insane, did you know that?” jeno mumbled, tracing his fingers over your delicate body. from your chest, down to your stomach, and in between your legs. “couldn’t stop thinking of you. no matter how hard i tried, i could always see your pretty face.”

jeno’s fingers ghosted over your entrance, making your breath hitch. his digits toying with your slick, spreading them up and down your folds. “so wet and ready for me, hm?” he teased, watching you squirm from his touch.

“j-jeno.” you whimpered, hips bucking as he circled your clit.

“so cute,” he whispered, almost entirely to himself. he inserted two fingers into your pussy, making you gasp. your hands fly to his shoulder to grip it for support. “you like that, baby?”

“y-yes, so good.” you cried out, making him smirk. he pulled his fingers out ever so slightly before thrusting them in again. keeping his pace steady as your pussy swallowed his digits.

“want to taste your sweet pussy.” jeno said, pulling his fingers off of you before sliding his body to the floor of the car. “sit up for me, baby.” he instructed, and you immediately followed. sitting up while he kneeled in front of you. “good girl.”

jeno wrapped his arms under and over your thighs, pulling your pussy close to his face. he inhaled your scent before darting his tongue out, licking your folds. you moaned out his name as his tongue circled your clit while his fingers returned to your core. he easily thrust his fingers in, curling them just the way you liked it while his mouth relentlessly sucked on your clit.

“oh god.” you moaned. your hand falling to grip his damp hair, tugging on it.

jeno’s rhythm was perfect. his fingers and tongue were in harmony as he pleasured you. you were a trembling mess from his touch, each movement of his threatening your orgasm to come even closer.

“you’re so fucking sweet.” he hummed against you, sending vibrations throughout your entire body. a jolt of pleasure coursing through you as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit, while his fingers increased in pace. “gonna cum for me, baby?”

you nodded, the familiar tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach. with just a few thrusts of his fingers, you came crashing down. you clenched around him as you rode out your high. his pace decreased while his tongue lapped up your cum. you shivered from the sensation, chest heaving from your orgasm.

jeno smiled before leaning up and pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, tasting remnants of your arousal on his lips. “ready for me, baby?”

“hurry up.”

jeno chuckled, taking a seat beside you. “ride me, princess?” he tilted his head, almost in a pleading manner.

you climbed on his lap, supporting yourself on his shoulder while your other hand reached in between your bodies to align his cock with your entrance. you teasingly rubbed the tip of his length against your slit, watching him bite his lip at the sight.

“stop teasing me. i need you so badly,” jeno grunted, his large hands reaching behind your back.

you smiled before sinking down on his cock, mouth falling agape at his size.

“oh fuck.” you whispered once he was fully buried into you. you caught your lip in between your teeth as your walls adjusted to his cock. his hands rubbing soothing motions on your back as he watched you with dark eyes.

“slowly, baby.” jeno assured, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

you slowly started to bounce on his cock. the sensation was burning but quickly turned into pleasure. you held onto his shoulders as you increase your pace,

“fuck, fuck.” jeno chanted, head falling against the headrest. “so tight and warm for me.”

whines slipped past your lips with each bounce, the tip of his cock perfectly kissing your cervix.

“s-so big.” you let out, nails digging into his shoulders.

jeno lifted his head, his eyes falling to your breasts, watching as they bounced right in front of his face. his mouth caught one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive bud.

the car shook with every movement you made. the window fogging and the scent of sex filling the air. you gasped as jeno’s fingers reached between your bodies, thumb circling your clit. your legs started to burn from riding him, so you sank further and began grinding on him.

“holy shit.” jeno cursed, pulling away from your nipple. his free hand gripping your hip to guide you, pushing you further down on his cock.

“i-i can’t—“you cried, tears forming in your eyes. legs growing weak with every grind.

“you can do it, baby. fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are.”

jeno’s words sent shocks through your body, moaning loudly as you chased your high. the stretch of his cock was enough to cloud your vision with stars. feeling lightheaded as you rocked yourself forward, the friction drove you insane.

“fuck, that’s it, baby. almost there.” jeno groaned, his voice deep.

you were cumming in no time as jeno increased his pace in circling your clit. your body squirming as you clenched around his cock. but jeno’s grip didn’t falter, still guiding you to grind your hips and you did. helping him reach his climax.

“shit—i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

“inside, jen.”

“fuck, i love you.” jeno grunted, making your eyes widen. with a throaty moan escaping his lips, his cum painted your walls. you gasped as his cock twitched inside you. catching his breath, he placed a kiss on your lips before flashing you a lazy smile.

“what did you say?” you questioned, an evident smile on your lips.

jeno’s grin faltered, a flush of embarrassment replacing his expression. “i love you, y/n.” he repeated more confidently. “i’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“i love you, too, jeno.”

relief washed over him as he cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss that was slow, sweet, and filled with every unspoken word between you.

in that moment, the outside world ceased to exist. it was just you and jeno, wrapped in a love that had always been there.

“do we have to go?” jeno groaned dramatically, burying himself under your covers as if the mere thought of leaving your apartment was too much to bear.

you couldn’t help but giggle at him. grabbing his shirt from the ground and putting it on. the oversized fabric falling just above your thighs. “yes, jeno. we promised them, remember?”

jeno peeked beneath the comforter, his dark and messy hair sticking up in different directions. his gaze falling to your almost bare state. he sat up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap, making you squeal. “why go to some party, when we could just stay here? in bed? loving each other?”

you playfully smacked his arm, although secretly loving his treatment. “because, baby, we said we’d be there. and besides,” you added, turning to face him with a smirk. “don’t you want to show off your girlfriend?”

the corner of jeno’s mouth lifted into a wide grin. “girlfriend, huh?” his voice laced with pride. “let’s go. but only because i love the sound of that.”

the loud music echoed throughout the house party. you and jeno entered together, his fingers intertwined with yours. as you both navigated the crowd, you spotted chaewon, mark, and haechan all hunched up together near the kitchen.

“y/n! jeno!” chaewon greeted, sending a wave over to the both of you. “what took you so long?” she engulfed you into a hug.

you returned her hug with a laugh. “it’s his fault.” you teased, nodding in jeno’s direction.

“hogging our girl all to yourself, lee?” mark raised a brow, smirking as he took a sip from his cup.

“correction,” jeno playfully glared, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “she’s my girl.”

“barf.” haechan made a gagging motion, scrunching his face. “can’t believe we lived to see the day these two finally get together.”

“finally?” jeno questioned, a knowing smirk on his face as he faced you.

“y/n had a massive crush on you—” haechan singsong tone was cut short by your swift swat to his arm.

“okay, that’s enough!” you interrupted, dragging jeno away to grab some drinks. “let’s get drunk, shall we?”

jeno chuckled, pulling your body flush against him. he captured your lips into a soft kiss, the chaos of the party fading into the background.

as the night went on, the teasing and laughter continued. jeno stayed close, his hand never leaving yours. it felt good—natural—to finally not be afraid. throughout the evening, you caught him staring at you on multiple occasions. his eyes filled with adoration every single time, your heart felt content, and you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

#please leave some thoughts !!!#this literally took my blood sweat and tears #nct #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno imagines #nct imagines #jeno smut #nct smut #jeno angst #nct angst #jeno x reader #nct x reader #jeno oneshot #nct oneshot #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios

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yuyusbabygirl · 7 days ago

Text

Strikes and Spares (18+)

pairing: bad boy!yunho x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k

content warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI, fluff, oral (fem receiving), yunho is whipped for reader

summary: you were minding your own business when your small town's bad boy came up and just declared he was picking you up for a date

Yunho was standing by his locker when you walked into school that morning. He watched as you opened your locker which was close to his own and took out your books. The look on his face wasn’t his usual scowl of annoyance that everybody in school knows and fears. Instead his eyes softened when he saw you and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red.

San was watching him and knew immediately who showed up by Yunho’s reaction. It had been like this since freshman year. He had to suppress a snicker at Yunho’s lovesick expression. He had always found it hilarious. The school’s bad boy who regularly got into fights, skipped class (except the ones he had with you, of course) and had gotten his first tattoo with 16 was hopelessly in love with a sweet innocent nerd. The best part? You had no clue.

Yunho was snapped out of his thoughts when San nudged his shoulder

“When are you going to stop staring at Y/N and simply talk to her?” San asked him.

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been staring at her like a hopeless fool since freshman year and now it’s our senior year and you have not once asked her out,” San chuckled.

“Shut up,” Yunho grumbled and slammed his locker shut. He knew San was right. But you were… intimidating. He realized how that sounded coming from him but it wasn’t just how pretty you were and how you didn’t seem to be scared of him, it was also just something about you. He knew everyone saw you as a sweet and innocent good girl because you got good grades and liked to dress in feminine clothes but he saw how you suppressed your smile when someone made a dirty or dark joke, he saw the kind of books you read when you thought no one would notice, he saw what music you listened to. And then there was the fact that you always smiled at him despite his reputation because you were so fucking polite. And what does he do? He chokes. Every time. Like a goddamn loser.

He watched as you closed your locker and prepared to go to class. Fuck it. It’s now or never.

Yunho walked over to you which surprised San who thought Yunho was going to creepily stare at you like he always does.

He reached you just when you started walking. “Hey.”

Great going, Yunho. That was the most lame greeting ever, he thought to himself.

You were just about to go to your first class when you heard someone talking to you. You looked up and saw Yunho standing in front of you. You had to look up quite a bit because of the height difference.

“Hey”, you greeted him back and wondered why he was talking to you. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

He put his hands in his pocket, trying to seem relaxed. “What class do you have next?” he asked you. His tone was softer than his usual tone and he could feel the curious stares from the other students around you. Along with the usual downcast looks in case he snapped at them.

“I have English next,” you grab your bag, ready to walk to class.

He grabs your bag from you and puts it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you,” he just states and starts walking with you to your class, ignoring your confused look and the hushed whispers around you as to why he was being nice to you.

You hurried along after him as he just started walking. You were incredibly confused why he suddenly talked to you and was now carrying your bag for you while walking you to class. You knew who Yunho was. He and his friends were the school’s bad boys which frankly you thought was a cliché title. But then again you lived in a smaller town and he does get into fights. It was maybe also the fact that he wore all black and always glared at people. Again, small town stuff. You honestly didn’t mind much. You had always found him attractive but you didn’t think he even knew your name. Both of you had different circles. He was always with his friends, smoking and you had even heard of them vandalizing stuff. Meanwhile you stuck to your two friends you had since freshman year, liked to stay inside and read and got good grades. The likelihood of him knowing you was small. So you thought.

He walked alongside you in the hallway and you noticed people moving out of your way while giving you curious stares. Great. You hated it when people stared at you.

You reached your classroom and he quickly moved to hold the door open for you. You gave him a confused look and walked into the classroom. Yunho put your bag down at your desk and you were so confused by his behavior you didn’t even question how he knew where you sat as he wasn’t in this class.

He turned to you and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he states and walks off.

You nod before realizing what he said.

“Wait- what? For what? Yunho!” you called after him but he just waved and walked to his own classroom. You sat down at your desk, still confused what exactly just happened. You decided to brush it off and simply focus on class.

Meanwhile, Yunho was freaking out internally. He just did that. He finally had the courage to make a move on you, the girl he’s been crushing on since the first day of freshman year. He sat down in his own class, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest. San who sat beside him gave him a questioning look but Yunho simply gave him a grin.

During the day you started to forget about what Yunho said that morning, brushing it off as a joke. He had not talked to you after and you were sure he didn’t even know where you lived. You simply went home and changed out of your skirt into a pair of jeans to take your dog on a walk.

While you walked you passed your elderly neighbor.

“Oh Y/N dear, how are you, sweet girl? Such a sweet girl as always, taking your dog on a walk. And I heard you got a good grade on that exam. Your mother must be so proud,” she chirped.

You smiled at her, internally wishing you could just keep walking. It wasn’t that she was unpleasant but she, like everybody else, assumed that because you did well in school you were sweet and innocent. Sure, you were polite and you liked to study. But innocent is not a word you would use to describe yourself except for the fact that your real life sexual experience was limited. The only people who knew what kind of books you read were your two friends and they regularly blushed when you gave them a recap of a book you recently read. You also liked alternative things and clothes but you were too shy to actually wear it. Nevermind the fact that alternative clothes can be expensive. So you stuck to your skirts and dresses, which you also liked but you were dying to experiment more. Truthfully, you were scared to do so. You knew how people talked in a small town and you just wanted to get this senior year over with before you went to college.

When you got back home you had completely forgotten about Yunho and his comment so you went up to your room and did your homework while listening to some true crime podcast.

At 6:50pm, Yunho parked his car outside your house. He knew he was early but he was nervous. He had this whole date planned out and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being late. He walked up to your porch and rang your doorbell. While he waited, he smoothed down one of his nicer black shirts and ran a hand through his hair.

You opened the door and gave him a confused look. “Yunho? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?” you asked him.

“I told you I’d pick you up at 7. Are you ready to go?” he chuckled at your expression, ignoring the other question. So maybe he had followed you one or five times. Sue him.

“You were serious?” you asked him incredulously. You noticed he was dressed casual in black jeans and a black shirt but you could tell it was one of his nicer ones as this one didn’t have any car grease stains on it. Not that you knew what his shirts looked like.

“Of course I was serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned at you and took in your appearance. He loved seeing you in your casual jeans and sweater. The sweater paws you had nearly undid him.

“I didn’t think you even knew where I lived. And I’m not dressed for going out,” you looked down at your jeans.

He chuckled and waved you off, “nonsense, you’re dressed perfectly. Come on.”

Still confused, you put on shoes and grabbed your purse. He opened his passenger door for you and waited until you were buckled up before getting into the driver’s seat. He looked over at you while he started his car and the sight of you finally sitting in his car on the way to a date with him made him as giddy as it made him nervous.

While he drove his hand itched to reach over and grab your thigh but he had to remind himself that this is a first date.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned as you looked over at him, trying not to look at his veiny hand gripping the steering wheel.

He just grinned at you, “It’s a surprise.”

You huffed slightly but let him continue. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, you liked being prepared for things but you were trying to let loose a bit.

Yunho parked the car and as you looked outside you could see the neon sign of the local bowling alley. Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Yunho was out of the car and opened your door for you, holding his hand out for you.

You put your hand in his and Yunho’s skin tingles from the skin contact. He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk inside, going to the front desk to pick out your shoes. You told the clerk your shoe size and after getting your shoes Yunho led you to a bowling lane, putting his hand on your lower back.

“Have you ever been bowling before?” he asked while he put your names into the computer.

“Uh.. like once or twice?” you replied while tying your shoes.

“That’s okay, I can teach you,” Yunho smiled at you and you were once again taken off guard by how sweet he was being.

He gave you a bowling ball, one he knew would be too heavy for you. He chuckled when he saw your arms buckle under the weight.

“Looks like I have to help you,” he teased you and came up behind you, his chest nearly pressing into your back while he helped you hold the ball. You stood in front of the lane, feeling his body heat as he towered over you from behind.

He leaned in to speak softly into your ear, “Focus on the pins and try to throw the ball as close to the middle as you can. Don’t worry about the speed for now.”

You tried to focus on what he was saying, you really did, but his low voice in your ear, his hands helping you hold the ball and the scent of his cologne made you a bit dizzy.

Yunho himself was not faring any better. He was using this as an excuse to touch you but he had not anticipated that it would feel so overwhelming to finally have you this close. He could smell your perfume and the realization that you were so much smaller than him sent his thoughts into a spiral.

Together you threw the ball and six out of the nine pins fell down. The fluttering in your stomach got stronger as you felt Yunho peck your cheek, chaste kiss on your now burning skin.

“Very good. Now you can throw again.”

He let you go for only a moment before he came back with another ball and put it in your hands. His hands didn’t let go of yours as he stepped closer to your back again and walked forwards with you. He leaned down to your ear and whispered instructions to you, which fell on deaf ears, his warm breath hitting your ear and neck nearly making you drop the ball. You managed to compose yourself long enough to throw the ball again with his help.

Two out of the remaining pins fell down and you felt your feet leave the ground as Yunho picked you up and spun you around, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He reluctantly put you back down and you turned to face him, your flushed cheeks tugging at his heart.

Fuck, he was so whipped for you.

He could hear San’s laughter in his mind as the thought this.

His hands shifted from around your waist to your hips as he looked down at you.

“Seems like you’ll lose, Jeong,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“Awfully cocky for a beginner, princess,” he smirked down at you. “You sure you wanna test that?”

“Well, you’d have to let me go to actually do your turn,” you quip.

He raised a brow at you and chuckled, “You think I can’t do that with you in my arms? Watch and learn, princess. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing you to his chest and dragged you along with him while he picked up a bowling ball and then walked forward to throw. Your arms wrapped around his waist so that you wouldn’t fall, your feet dragging over the floor.

“Hold tight, tiny,” he chuckled and leaned forward to throw the ball, tilting you back. All pins fell down and he laughed as he tilted you upright again. He smiled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes. The urge to kiss was almost too strong to resist but he knew he had to. He wanted to do this right and not rush it. But fuck, you were making it hard with your eyes staring up at him, your body still pressed to his, the lipgloss on your lips looking so sweet.

He took a step back, his hands shifting to your hips again. The thumping in your chest took a moment to calm down as you both continued the game, with Yunho winning, of course.

After you both finished your drinks and put your own shoes back on, he grabbed your hand in his and walked with you to the front desk to return the shoes. He couldn’t deny that he felt pride being seen with you, holding your hand in public. He had thought of this since freshman year, watching you from afar, always wondering if you’d ever go for someone like him. Now, three years later he was finally on a date with you and, not to toot his own horn, but it was going quite well.

He lead you outside and you both slowly walked to his car. Once you reached it, he used his grip on your hand to turn you to him. You looked up at him, unsure of what to do now. You hadn’t been on many dates but you really did want him to kiss you. Your tongue swept over your lips for a second, his eyes following the movement.

“Fuck, I can’t…” he muttered and you didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant by that when you felt his hand cup your cheek. He leaned down and kissed you. Softly at first, relishing in the soft gasp you let out. His lips moved over yours, his hand caressing your cheek. You gripped his shirt, needing to hold onto something so you wouldn’t do something embarrassing like stumble or squeak. His tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance.

He was right. Your lipgloss is the sweetest thing he ever tasted. At least until you opened your mouth and his tongue dove into your mouth. He grunted and pushed you against the side of his car, the hand that was on your cheek going up to tangle in your hair.

One of your hands moved up to his shoulder, holding onto him as you felt his tongue move against yours. You could still taste the soda on him that he had earlier and, shit, it was the best thing you ever tasted and you didn’t want this kiss to end.

He used the grip on your hair to tug your head back, biting slightly at your lip. The moan you let out reverberated in his head and he desperately wanted to hear more. He thanked heaven, hell and whatever the fuck was in between that the parking lot was deserted because there was no way he could hold back the growl that left him as he felt your hand on his nape, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, slightly breathless, his eyes dark as he took in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. That godforsaken lipgloss smeared.

“You know what this means, right? You’re my girl now,” he declared, his voice rough with barely held back desire.

You couldn’t deny that your thighs clenched at his words but you still said “No.”

His grip on your hair tightened.

“No?” he challenged.

“Ask me.”

You could tell he didn’t expect that. He looked genuinely confused at your statement.

“You declared you were picking me up for a date and I didn’t mind. But you need to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you tried to keep your voice steady. You actually didn’t mind his assertiveness but you still wanted to make him work for it.

You could see the shift in his eyes and how smile got a little bit darker, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Will you be my girlfriend, tiny?” he asked you, pressing closer to you.

“Yes,” you swallowed, this time not being able to keep your voice from breaking.

“Good girl.”

His lips crashed to yours again, pulling your hair and swallowing your moan. He pulled back before he could get carried away but your whine had him twitching in his jeans.

“I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted.

“Yunho,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to but, fuck, baby… can I taste you?” he asked and he was ready to beg if that’s what it took. Your small nod was all he needed to open the door to the backseat of his car and push you inside. He climbed over you, pulling the door closed.

His lips found yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair. His self-control was hanging by a thread at this point, finally having you under him, being able to call you his.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you…” he mumbled against your lips.

A small whimper escaped your lips and you pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, running your hands along his shoulder blades. You felt him grab one of your thighs and wrap it around his waist. The bulge pressing against you felt bigger than you expected and had you clenching around nothing.

Could you…? No, fuck… not on the first date.

Yunho’s fingers slipped under your sweater, barely grazing your stomach. He felt your muscles twitch under his touch, making him chuckle against your lips. In one swift move he pulled your sweater up over your head and discarded it onto the floor of his car. His eyes found your breasts, covered by a black bra with a little bow in the middle. A little present just for him.

His focus shifted back to your face as he felt you grab at his arms. He leaned back down and began trailing kisses from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Your pulse was racing, matching his own. He felt like he could drown in the scent of your perfume if you let him. His teeth sank into the skin on your neck, where he made sure to leave a hickey. He wanted people to know the girl everyone believes to be so pure belonged to him, the guy who regularly got into fights.

“Yunho,” you whined into his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he grunted into your ear. His fingers found the button of your jeans, slightly trembling with anticipation. Once he had opened your jeans, he looked up at you with a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Use your words, tiny,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whined.

He smirked at the neediness in your voice and began to pull your jeans down your legs. He threw them to the front seat of his car, his hands grabbing the underside of your thighs and spreading your legs to make room for his shoulders.

You felt slightly embarrassed that your panties did not match your bra but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Take your bra off for me,” he commanded, looking up at you from between your thighs and you couldn’t help but obey him.

His lips parted as your boobs were revealed to him. He leaned up, his mouth finding your nipple and gave it a flick with his tongue. You arched up into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He growled and his hands fisting the waistband of your panties until you heard the rip of fabric. You looked down and saw him pocket the ruined panties, now completely bare before him. He shifted himself back down between your legs, both thrown over his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” his voice was dark and heavy with desire. He ran a finger up your slit to your clit, a light teasing touch. He let out a moan and dove down to lick a stripe between your folds, closing his eyes at the taste. There was no way he could ever stop, no way he could ever let you go now. One of his hands held down your hips as you twitched underneath his ministrations.

One hand grabbed at his hair while the other flew up to hold onto the door of his car. You tried to keep your moans down but the feel of his tongue dipping into you made it impossible. Your thighs tightened around his head but it didn’t stop him, if anything it made him more eager to have you fall apart on his tongue. You looked down and saw his eyes looking up at you, watching your every reaction. He sucked at your clit and you pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, the vibrations of his voice making everything feel more intense. It had been a while since someone touched you and it was never this good so you could already tell you weren’t going to last long.

Yunho trailed one hand up to your breast, a finger rubbing softly over your nipple while his tongue alternated between flicking your clit and lapping at your entrance. Every whine and moan fueled his desire for you, wanting to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wanted. He could tell you were close when your thighs shook around his head. He focused his tongue on your clit and pressed a hand down on your stomach.

The pressure on your stomach and the relentless stimulation of your clit and nipple had you coming in seconds. Your fingers pulled at his hair while you moaned his name. Your thighs crushed his head but he didn’t let up. As overstimulation set in, your other hand also flew to his hair and you tried to push him away while you whined.

“Too much, please, Yunho, please…” you whimpered, words barely coherent.

He took pity and pulled his mouth off, licking his lips. His face shone with your juices and despite basically grinding on his face a minute ago you blushed.

He chuckled softly as he saw your flustered expression and slowly crawled up to your face, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him and it made your stomach flutter in need again. He pulled away and you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly while brushing your hair away from your face.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. He continued running his fingers through your hair, covering your body with his to keep you from getting cold. He helped you put your bra and sweater back on when you stopped him.

“Wait, what about you?” you questioned, looking up at him.

“You think I’m gonna taste the girl of my dreams and not cum in my pants?” he replied, his voice rough. He saw your eyes drop down to the front of his jeans, your cheeks burning red.

“So don’t worry about me, tiny. I wanted to make you feel good,” he reassured you.

He helped you put your jeans back on, minus your panties that he ripped and stole. Once you had buttoned your jeans, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. He let out a surprised moan and pulled you closer. His lips left yours reluctantly.

“Let’s get you home before your mom kills me,” he chuckled.

#ateez #ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #yunho #yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #yunho hard thoughts #jeong yunho smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #jeong yunho

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the-tarot-witch22 · 6 months ago

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Your future spouse late night thoughts about you 18+ - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me! | My Paid Readings | My insta

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you guys - The magician, 6 of cups, wheel of fortune and 4 of swords)

Their thoughts about you is quite solemn or like emotional, they are quite a softie when it comes to you honestly, i wanted to give something 18+ for you guys but the energy here is so pure honestly or atleast that's how they wanna start with, i feel they don't want to scare you away just yet, like not much r rated haha, but i will channel everything i can, okay so i feel they are quite in awe or in love, like they want to meet you a hopeless romantic energy, looking at moon asking universe or upper power if they will meet you soon, they want to hurry honestly, I heard "you're mine baby" "no matter whatever you are doing right now, whoever is with you", "i am the one for you hope you know that", they want to kiss you a lot, like every part of you, want you to feel loved and you belong with them, like your body, soul has a name of their engraved on it, that's how much they want you to feel at home, at first they were being quite secretive not opening everything or feelings they have for you but I feel they are trying now, I also feel or heard that they want to push you on bed, tie you up, watch you while they fuck every part of you, they are sweet as hell and as well as horny for you, they want you to watch while you suck them, they want to fuck you deeper so you forget everything but them, They definitely want to put you on pedestal in every way they can, they wanna give you after care, touch every part of you they crave your soul and body, they feel they have knownn you for lifetimes, a literal past life connection here, yet they don't have you, they miss you, your time with them , i heard it's honestly funny "how someone can never meet and yet crave for each other", they wanna lay in your arms relax with you, watch silly rom coms, horror anything you desire, but they want you very badly, "when we meet i will tie you up till you get bored of me" in a very teasing tone, he is quite balanced individual in both his sexual desires and emotional desires.

WoW pile they are quite a romantic, huh? you guys deserve it! they are waiting for you too I feel you will meet them very soon.

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you guys - 5 of swords, 8 of wands, 4 of wands and 6 of swords)

Okay so first thing i feel is very passionate, like they just want to fuck the soul out of you, holy shit, starting with big words and love for you, they are definitely not feel like themselves when they are with you, like they are different person "i cant control my feelings, my desires i have for you" how my body reacts when it sees you, it needs you as much as i do, I also heard i am quite jealous that you are not with me right now, is it because it's a payback for me to meet you late?, i hear them sighing a lot, they want to compete with everyone who has ever been with you even your fictional crushes like they can't make you feel like i do, they are definitely very competitive, their thoughts about you at night is quite filled with lust and desire, i see a scene where they are letting off their steam jerking off with the desire and spark they feel within themselves how they just want you, and only you I also feel they want to be very rough with you like just show you who you belong to, for some of you, you both are into hardcore sex, and they wanna make you cum with their mouth, they want you to sit on them, show that little pretty thing which is wet just for them, they want to tease you a lot too, like not letting you come at first, i feel they want to hear you say "please let me come", i see them smirk a lot, satisfied how much you react to them, "keep running away from me, but you can't go far because our souls are intertwined, my darling" gosh pile 2 they are quite very hungry for you, they want to fuck you all day or night touch you in a way no one ever has, they want you to fuck in the mirror they might want to record these moments for you both so you have special memory of it, more than their pleasure , they want YOU to feel pleasure in a way that no one ever had, they want to use dildo on you such foreign objects, i also feel they want you to wear vibrator while you go out with them, and when they feel jealous they will turn it on, i heard "my dirty little slut".

Wow pile 2 they are quite fiery aren't they, they just had so much to say to you their thought about you is so deep and filled with love and lust. Love it for you guys!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you guys - 10 of pentacles, 7 of wands, 6 of wands, 5 of cups, ace of swords and 8 of wands)

Okay so first thing I feel is they are missing you like a lot, when i started doing your reading and cards my heart felt sad for some reason they could be yearning you and they definitely want me to tell you "how much your absence in their life is impacting them", they are quite turned on by thought of you, your body is their temple, they want to worship you, they want to feel comfortable with them sexually or non sexually, they just want you to feel at home with them, they are feeling quite lonely without you, i heard "i love her laugh", their thoughts about you is quite desperate, but okay let me channel something 18+ for you, they are quite needy for your body, they want you to touch yourself or you to touch them or their intimate parts, they want to gently fuck you, I feel they are quite sensible or have gentleman thoughts for you. They are quite respectful, i also feel they wanna put efforts while they fuck you, politely touch you like you will break in their arms, they are quite caring, and soft for you and with you. i also feel they would want to or love to suck on you breasts to make you feel very good. They want to hear you scream their name, They think of you as their biggest achievement their prize, that they got for good or past deeds, they also want to be sneaky with you like I see a place where you are both only and emotions are so overflowing that you end up having sex their, a beach at night, or some abandoned or deserted place, their energy is quite calming they even calmed me down, they want everyone to see you belong to them, As I said they could be very sad for you like they miss you, "needing you by their side energy", they want you to know that sex isn't only two people having orgasm its more than that, its filled with love spark, connection, when they think of you all they want is to rest by your side, just be their while you do your own thing, they want you to know they have much more to show you when you guys actually meet! You guys can check out pile 1 too!

Good luck pile 3 xD! Their thoughts weren't much 18+ but more sweet. And I feel it's because they take sex much more seriously or not much openly, so that could be why this pile ended up being sweet lol.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

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TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish

gn reader

“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.

“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.

Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.

Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”

He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy.

You think you might pass out.

“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.

You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.

“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.

Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”

“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”

You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.

“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”

He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.

“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”

He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.

He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.

“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”

He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.

“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.

Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”

“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”

There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.

“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.

He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.

“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y’know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”

You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.

“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”

You bit your lip to stop a sob.

“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”

He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.

You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-”

“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”

He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.

He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.

“I think thirty is fair.”

“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.

“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”

At least he doesn’t make you count....

You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.

Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.

He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead.

“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~” He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.

He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.

His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”

You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting.

He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”

The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.

He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.

He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance.

A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.

He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.

“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Miya twins, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Kunigami ♡ DS – Doma, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere kirishima #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere jjk #yandere haikyuu #yandere toji #yandere nanami #yandere geto #yandere demon slayer #yandere blue lock #yandere csm

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reidmarieprentiss · 5 months ago

Text

Love in the Club

Summary: Derek tries to cheer Spencer up by finding him someone to keep him company.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: light smut (18+), it's mostly just flirting, alcohol consumption, being in a club, Derek Morgan's charm

Word count: 9.7k

a/n: trying to make love in this club fr spencer come find me

main masterlist

The club was alive with energy, pulsing with vibrant lights and the thumping bass that seemed to sync with the beat of every heart in the room. Derek Morgan leaned casually against a table, his sharp eyes scanning the dance floor, but his attention kept drifting back to his friend, Spencer Reid. Spencer stood beside him, a drink in hand, fidgeting slightly with the glass as he observed the crowd with a thoughtful expression. Spencer wasn’t awkward in the same way he used to be; he could hold a conversation with women just fine, but often, he couldn’t quite say the right things that led to another date. Derek knew that was weighing on his friend tonight.

After another failed dating attempt, Derek had dragged Spencer out to this club, determined to find him a rebound. It wasn’t just that Spencer rarely dated; Derek was beginning to suspect that his friend’s tension had something to do with not getting laid. Spencer never really talked about that aspect of his life, but Derek couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the problem. The man was brilliant, sure, but even geniuses needed to unwind.

They had been at the club for nearly two hours, moving from table to bar and back, chatting idly about the cases they’d worked on and the people they’d met, but Derek was starting to feel a little hopeless. Spencer hadn’t shown any interest in anyone, not even a glance that suggested he might be considering approaching someone. If Derek pushed too hard, Spencer would just retreat, and the last thing he wanted was to make his friend feel pitied.

But then, as if the universe decided to throw Derek a bone, the door to the club swung open, and you walked in with your friends. Derek noticed you immediately, the way you carried yourself with an easy confidence, your laughter carrying over the music as you talked with your friends. You were stunning, and Derek didn’t miss the way heads turned as you passed. He watched as you made your way to the bar, completely unaware of the eyes on you, Spencer’s included.

A grin tugged at the corners of Derek’s lips. Oh yeah, you’ll do just fine, he thought, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Spencer was still nursing his drink, lost in his own thoughts, when Derek gave him a nudge.

“Hey, Reid,” Derek said, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief. “Let’s go get a refill.”

Spencer glanced at his nearly empty glass, then at Derek, nodding in agreement. He didn’t think anything of it—just assumed Derek wanted a change of scenery, maybe to catch a better view of the dance floor. Little did he know that Derek had a plan in motion. The two of them moved to the bar, finding a spot right next to you and your group, though Spencer didn’t notice you at first.

As Derek ordered their drinks, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance your way, his mind already working on how to introduce you to Spencer. The timing was just right, the music dipped, and your laughter bubbled up again, catching Spencer’s attention. Derek saw the moment Spencer’s gaze shifted, landing on you. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes that Derek had been waiting for all night.

The corner of Derek’s mouth twitched in a satisfied smile as he leaned over to Spencer, speaking just loud enough for you to hear. “Go say hi,” Derek encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. “You never know what might happen.”

Spencer, caught off guard, looked at Derek, then followed his line of sight directly to you. His eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck, but Derek could tell he was intrigued. Spencer’s lips parted as if to speak, but Derek was already one step ahead, raising his glass in a silent toast before nodding toward you.

Spencer hesitated for only a moment, then straightened his shoulders, a determined glint in his eyes. Maybe tonight would be different after all.

—

As you're laughing with your friends, letting the music and vibrant energy of the club lift your spirits, your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds. It’s a typical night out—until you notice them.

Standing at the bar, two men catch your eye, and you can’t help but be intrigued. The first one, with a dark shirt that accentuates his muscular frame, locks eyes with you. His confident, almost smug smile sends a jolt of excitement through you. He nods in your direction, a gesture that feels both inviting and a little challenging. You feel your curiosity piqued, wondering what his story might be.

Then, your gaze shifts to the man beside him. He's quite the contrast—tall and lanky, with a mess of curls that look both effortless and charming. His hands are tucked into his pockets, and there's something almost endearingly shy about the way he glances around, seemingly unaware of how handsome he is.

Without overthinking it, you flash them a smile, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you consider walking over. Tonight just got a whole lot more interesting.

—

Spencer noticed you smiling in their direction and concluded that you must be interested in Derek. After all, why wouldn’t you be? Derek is charming, bold, and magnetic in a way that Spencer has always admired. As these thoughts swirl around in Spencer’s head, he barely notices that Derek’s focus isn’t on the assumption Spencer has made. Derek is watching you closely, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

When Derek catches your eye, he gives you a confident nod and curls his finger, motioning for you to come closer. The gesture is smooth, almost effortless, and your curiosity piques even more. You glance back at your friends, who are already giggling and nudging you, urging you to go for it. With a final encouraging smile from your friends, you take a deep breath and stride towards the two men, the soft fabric of your black dress swaying with each step.

As you stopped a few feet away from the two men, you could see Derek's eyes light up, clearly relishing the situation. There was an air of confidence in his stance, a kind of smug satisfaction as if he knew exactly how things were going to play out. You took in both men with a quick, playful glance before letting your gaze rest on the one who had called you over.

"You called?" you said with a flirtatious tilt to your voice, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, mama, I did," Derek responded smoothly, his laughter rolling off his tongue. "Your hand looks a little empty. Do you need a drink to fill it?"

You gasped in mock surprise, widening your eyes. "You're so right! I do need a drink."

"Well, lucky for you, my friend here’s wallet is a bit too heavy," Derek chuckled, giving Spencer a friendly clap on the shoulder. The action jolted Spencer out of the daze he had been stuck in, lost in his own thoughts.

"What?" Spencer stammered, clearly taken off guard by the sudden attention.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. Turning your gaze to Spencer, you offered him a polite smile, saying, "I think your friend is trying to set you up, but don’t worry, you don’t have to buy me a drink. I’m a big girl."

With that, you started to turn away, not wanting to become a pawn in whatever game these two might be playing. But just as you took your first step, Spencer's voice, tinged with sudden urgency, called out.

"Wait!"

You paused, turning back to him with a curious raise of your eyebrow. "Yes?"

Spencer took a breath, gathering his nerves before saying, "I would like to buy you a drink, if you’ll let me."

"Not because your friend said so?" you asked, narrowing your eyes playfully.

"No," Spencer replied with a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter just a little. "His peer pressure stopped working on me years ago."

Derek scoffed at that, shaking his head with a smirk. "It’s not peer pressure, it’s called being a wingman."

You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you turned to Derek with a teasing tone. "Can I give you a friendly word of advice from a young stranger?"

"Uh oh," Derek said, raising an eyebrow but nodding with a grin. "Sure, sweetheart."

"If someone is interested in us, they should talk to us themselves, not have their friends do it for them," you said smugly, crossing your arms with a playful tilt to your head.

Derek huffed in a teasing manner, clearly amused by your boldness. "I get a lecture for trying to help a friend?"

"This is nowhere near a lecture, sweetheart," you retorted, throwing his pet name back at him with a wink.

Spencer, now more at ease, tried to suppress a laugh, clearly entertained by the exchange. He watched the scene unfold, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Derek raised his hands in surrender, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Feisty… she's all yours, Reid."

"Actually, he’s all mine," you corrected with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Go wingman for yourself."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "I like you."

"I'm warming up to you," you teased back, the banter flowing easily now. Your eyes flicked to your group of friends before landing on one of them. You pointed subtly. "You see that girl right there? Her name’s Jade."

Derek followed your gesture, his gaze landing on the friend you indicated. "Yeah?"

"She’s going to love you. Go get her, tiger," you said with a wink.

Derek's grin grew wider as he fist-bumped you, clearly impressed and slightly amazed by your confidence. "You’re something else, you know that?"

You laughed lightly, the sound warm and genuine. "I’ve been told."

As Derek made his way over to your friend, you turned your full attention back to Spencer. The atmosphere between you felt a bit more intimate now, the tension having shifted into something lighter, something promising. Spencer gave you a shy but genuine smile, one that hinted at the quiet confidence beneath his surface.

"So," you said, your voice softer now as you leaned in just slightly, "how about that drink?"

Spencer’s eyes lit up, and for the first time that night, he felt completely at ease. "I’d love to."

—

After getting your drinks, you glanced around the club, searching for a quieter spot away from the thumping bass and flashing lights of the dance floor. You spotted a cozy booth nestled in a corner, offering just enough privacy for conversation without being too far removed from the lively energy of the room. You led Spencer over, and he followed, still processing the fact that you were genuinely interested in spending time with him.

As you slid into the booth, Spencer expected you to take the seat across from him, but to his pleasant surprise, you scooted in right next to him. The proximity sent a thrill through him, but he quickly reminded himself to stay cool. You were close enough that he could smell the faint hint of your perfume—something sweet and subtle that matched the playful spark in your eyes.

You turned to him with a grin, breaking the silence. "Alright, handsome. First things first, what is your name, age, and social security number?"

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the sudden, playful interrogation. Then, before he could stop himself, he let out a genuine laugh, the sound ringing with surprise and amusement. "Spencer Reid, 27, and not a chance."

"Fair, fair," you giggled, pleased to have made him laugh so easily. "Well, Spencer Reid, I’m Y/N Johnson, 23, and I love sarcasm."

Spencer chuckled again, there was something about you—your easy confidence, the way you didn’t take things too seriously—that was incredibly refreshing. He found himself smiling more than he had in a while, feeling more relaxed than he usually did in these situations.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere. "I have to say, that’s one of the most efficient icebreakers I’ve encountered."

You shrugged with a playful grin. "Why waste time, right? Besides, you can learn a lot about someone based on their reaction to sarcasm."

"Oh, really?" Spencer’s tone was light, teasing. "And what did you learn about me?"

"Hmm…" You pretended to think for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. "I learned that you’ve got a great laugh, and that you’re not easily intimidated. Both good signs."

Spencer felt a warmth spread through his chest at your words. "Well, I’ve learned that you’re quick on your feet and that you know how to keep a conversation interesting."

You gave him a small, appreciative nod, enjoying the back-and-forth banter. "I try my best."

Spencer smiled, but you could see the slight hesitation in his eyes as if he wasn’t quite sure where to take the conversation next. It was as if he was cautious about saying the wrong thing, unsure of the next step. His fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of his glass, betraying the nervous energy he was trying to keep under wraps.

Sensing his uncertainty, you decided to take the reins, easing the pressure off him. With a playful lilt in your voice, you asked, "So, do you often have your friend hit on women for you?"

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly shook his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. "No, no," he blurted out, clearly flustered. "Actually, that has never happened before. Derek—uh—he’s just… well, he’s always been a bit more confident than I am in these situations."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnest response, finding his honesty endearing. There was something incredibly refreshing about how straightforward he was, even in his nervousness. The way he fidgeted slightly with the edge of his sleeve, his eyes occasionally darting up to meet yours before quickly looking away, only added to the charm of the moment.

“Well, I happen to think you’re doing just fine,” you said with a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of the tension you sensed in him.

Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink as he looked down at the table, clearly touched by your words. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost as if he was unsure whether he deserved the compliment.

You leaned in slightly, wanting to make sure he heard the sincerity in your next words. “And for future reference, even if you’re awkward, it’s always more appealing to hear right from the man himself.” You gave him a playful wink, trying to lighten the mood.

But Spencer seemed to catch on to the phrase “future reference” in a way you hadn’t intended. The way his eyes flickered with a hint of worry, the way his fingers tightened around his cup—he was clearly picking up on something more. It was as if he thought you were already planning on not seeing him again, and the idea unsettled him.

“Noted,” he replied, his tone a touch more subdued than before, though he tried to mask it with a polite smile. But the way he said it, you could tell he didn’t like the sound of those words, like he feared this might be your first and last date.

You felt a pang of guilt, realizing how he might have misunderstood your comment. The last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you were already planning an exit strategy. You leaned forward slightly, your voice softening as you tried to lighten the moment.

“I mean, how odd would it be if you sent that man to talk to me again?” you joked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Spencer's lips curled into a genuine smile, a light chuckle escaping him as he snorted in amusement. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor. “It looks like he’s gotten quite cozy with your friend.”

Curious, you followed his gaze across the room to where Derek and Jade were on the dance floor. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at your lips as you watched the two of them swaying together, their bodies close and their movements almost synchronized. Jade was laughing at something Derek had whispered in her ear, clearly enjoying herself, while Derek’s hand rested comfortably on her waist, pulling her closer with each step.

“Well, would you look at that,” you murmured, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you turned back to Spencer. “Looks like they’re having a good time.”

“Apparently so,” Spencer agreed, the tension between the two of you easing as the conversation shifted. He seemed more relaxed now, his earlier nervousness fading into the background. The sight of his friend, normally so confident and assured, now completely absorbed in Jade’s company, seemed to have brought a sense of camaraderie to the moment.

You smiled warmly at Spencer, feeling the connection between you both grow stronger with each passing second. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours, his expression softening. “I think I’m okay with that.”

—

You and Spencer chatted for a bit longer, the conversation flowing easily between you as the evening wore on. You each had one more drink, the atmosphere growing even more relaxed as the warmth of the alcohol settled in. Across the room, Derek and Jade were still tearing it up on the dance floor, their energy seemingly endless as they moved to the beat, drawing attention from nearly everyone around them.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he watched them, a small, amused laugh escaping him when Derek dipped Jade dramatically, earning a playful squeal from her. You found yourself smiling too, feeling the infectious energy from their joy.

After a moment, you turned your attention back to Spencer, a curious thought crossing your mind. You leaned in closer, your eyes sparkling with playful curiosity. “Tell me, Spencer,” you began, your voice soft yet teasing.

He looked at you, mirroring your movement by leaning in as well. “Mhm?” he hummed in response, his gaze fixed on yours, clearly intrigued by whatever question you had in mind.

“Do you dance?” you asked, your tone carrying a hint of mischief.

Spencer’s eyebrows raised slightly, a small, almost sheepish smile playing on his lips as he considered your question. “What do you think?” he replied, his voice light but carrying a note of curiosity.

You tilted your head, pretending to scrutinize him for a moment before answering. “I think you’re secretly really good, but you don’t want anyone to know,” you said with a grin, your voice full of playful certainty.

Spencer blinked in surprise, a chuckle escaping him as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wow, you’re good,” he admitted, clearly impressed by your deduction. Then, with a teasing smile, he asked, “Are you sure you’re not a profiler?”

You blinked back at him, genuinely confused by the term. “A what?” you asked, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he realized you didn’t catch the reference, having told you he worked for the FBI but not what he did. His nervousness kicked in, and before he could stop himself, he launched into a rambling explanation.

“Oh, uh, profiling, it’s what we do. We study criminal behavior, analyze patterns, and use psychological principles to create profiles of offenders, you know, to help catch them. It’s all about reading people, understanding their motivations, predicting their next moves based on subtle cues and details, even things they might not be consciously aware of. It’s kind of like… well, I guess it’s sort of like Sherlock Holmes in a way, but more rooted in psychology than deduction. Not that deduction isn’t involved, because it is, but it’s more about interpreting behaviors in a broader context, like understanding why someone would commit a crime rather than just how they did it. So, when I said ‘profiler,’ I meant that you’re good at reading people, like how we do when we’re on a case, but—”

He paused, realizing he had been speaking faster and faster, his words tumbling out in an anxious rush. He blinked a few times, his expression shifting to one of mild embarrassment as he realized he had been rambling.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “I tend to do that sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his explanation, finding his enthusiasm and the way he got lost in his own thoughts utterly endearing. As he tried to regain his composure, you leaned in slightly, your voice playful and teasing. “Do what? Share your super sexy brain with the world? If anything, you should be apologizing for not doing it sooner.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his breath catching slightly as your words registered. He was clearly taken aback, not at all expecting you to say something like that. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, which was a rare occurrence for him.

“Uh… I… I—” he stammered, trying to form a coherent response. His mind raced, searching for the right thing to say, but the unexpected compliment had him completely flustered. He wasn’t used to people describing his intelligence in such a, well, flattering way, and it was clear he didn’t know how to handle it.

You chuckled softly, enjoying his reaction. There was something incredibly endearing about seeing someone so brilliant and composed be thrown off balance by a simple compliment. “What?” you asked with a grin, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not used to people complimenting your brain?”

Spencer finally managed to regain some of his composure, though the blush still lingered on his cheeks. “Not quite like that,” he admitted, his voice a little shaky but filled with a shy kind of gratitude. “Most people don’t really… put it that way.”

“Well, I did,” you replied, your tone sincere but still light, though the playful glint in your eyes remained. “And I meant it. You’ve got a sexy mind, Spencer.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he stammered out a soft, “Th–thank you,” clearly still trying to process the unexpected praise. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of his sleeve, betraying just how flustered he was.

You leaned in a little closer, your smile warm and kind as you decided to push him just a bit further. “I don’t want to fully break you,” you said, your voice dropping to a more teasing whisper, “but you do know that all”—you made a small gesture that encompassed his entire being—“of you is sexy. Yeah?”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed completely speechless. It was as if your words had short-circuited his brain. He blinked rapidly, trying to grasp onto something, anything, that would allow him to form a coherent response. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, as if he was unsure what to say or how to respond to such a straightforward compliment.

“I… um…” he managed to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart was racing, and he felt like the room had suddenly grown warmer. The way you looked at him, with such sincerity and a touch of playful confidence, left him feeling both incredibly flattered and slightly overwhelmed.

Seeing his reaction, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound gentle and affectionate. “You don’t have to say anything,” you assured him, giving his arm a light, reassuring squeeze. “Just… you know, let it sink in.”

Spencer nodded, still at a loss for words, but his expression softened, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He felt a strange mix of emotions—embarrassment, gratitude, disbelief—but above all, he felt seen in a way he hadn’t experienced before. And that, more than anything, left him feeling something he wasn’t entirely accustomed to: confident.

“Okay,” he finally said, his voice steadying just a bit. “I’ll, um… I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good,” you replied with a wink, letting the moment settle between you both. The atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the air charged with playfulness and something a bit more electric. “So, sexy, care to dance? Prove me right?”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the invitation. He managed a small smile, his nervousness evident as he replied, “I will absolutely prove you wrong, but if you want to dance, I will.”

You grinned at his response, appreciating his willingness to step outside his comfort zone, even if he was convinced he’d mess it up. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s go, big boy,” you said with a playful nudge.

Spencer felt his heart race again, the term "big boy" throwing him for a loop. He had never been referred to as "big" in his life. Skinny, sure. Flagpole, string bean, pipe cleaner—all the nicknames he had endured growing up flashed through his mind. But "big"? That was new, and it made him feel something unfamiliar but oddly comforting.

As the two of you made your way to the dance floor, you caught Jade’s eye and sent her a wink, a silent message that you had things under control. She responded with a knowing grin, clearly approving of the way the evening was unfolding. Meanwhile, Derek gave Spencer a subtle nod and a smirk, a silent acknowledgment that his plan to nudge Spencer out of his shell was working. Spencer was slowly coming to realize that you were doing just that—breaking him out of his shell, piece by piece, and he wasn’t sure if he was more terrified or exhilarated by it.

Once you reached the floor, you turned to face Spencer, craning your neck to look up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. He was so tall, and the way you had to tilt your head back slightly to meet his eyes made him feel a little self-conscious, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked like you were enjoying every second of it.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?” you asked, your tone gentle, not at all condescending. You just wanted to confirm what you already suspected.

Spencer shook his head, his lips curving into a shy smile. “No, never really had the opportunity,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter, almost as if he was embarrassed to confess it.

You nodded in understanding, your eyes softening as you reached out to bridge the gap between you both. “Can I touch you?” you asked, your voice calm and reassuring.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing at the sudden question. “What?” he blurted out, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as he processed what you’d just said.

You bit back a laugh, realizing how your words might have come across. “Can I move your hands?” you rephrased, your tone gentle and patient.

Relief washed over Spencer, and he quickly nodded, eager to follow your lead. You carefully guided his hands to your hips, the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of your dress as you placed them just where you wanted them. Then, with a soft smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Is this okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, wanting to make sure he was comfortable.

Spencer swallowed hard, his pulse quickening at the proximity between you both. “Yeah,” he managed to say, though his voice wavered slightly. “But, uh, this isn’t… this isn’t really dancing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, your eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry, dance expert,” you teased, your tone light and playful. “Would you like me to turn around and put my ass on you? I figured you were more of a gentleman.”

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, the color creeping all the way up to his ears as he realized what you were implying. The idea of you dancing like that—well, it was almost too much for him to handle. “N-no, that’s… I mean, I’m… I’m okay with this,” he stammered, his voice barely audible as he tried to keep his composure.

You smiled at his flustered response, clearly enjoying how easy it was to get under his skin. “Good,” you said softly, moving your hips slightly in time with the music, coaxing him to follow your lead. “Because I like this too.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was new territory for him, but with you guiding him, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he could manage to survive the night without dying of embarrassment.

With the music providing a clear rhythm, something easy to follow, you began moving your hips under Spencer’s hands, encouraging him to feel the beat along with you. He was standing still, his posture tense as he tried to figure out what to do. His eyes darted around nervously, his uncertainty palpable. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, overthinking every little movement. It was both endearing and a little heartbreaking.

You smiled warmly, finding his awkwardness incredibly charming, and gently placed your hands on his waist, guiding his hips to sway in time with yours. “Just let loose,” you coaxed, your voice soft and reassuring as you tried to ease his anxiety. “Trust me, no one cares what you’re doing.”

Spencer’s gaze shifted briefly to where Derek was, his face scrunching slightly in concern. “Derek will,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with the worry of being judged by his friend.

You chuckled softly, understanding where he was coming from. Derek was known for his confidence, especially on the dance floor, and it made sense that Spencer would feel self-conscious in comparison. “Do you care what he thinks?” you asked, your tone gentle, wanting to reassure him.

“A little, yeah,” Spencer admitted, his honesty coming through in a way that made you want to protect him from those insecurities.

You thought for a moment, then an idea sparked, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Okay… what do you say we give him a show then?”

Spencer blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your suggestion. “Ok–okay,” he stammered, not entirely sure what you had in mind but trusting you nonetheless.

With that, you slid your hands back up around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours so that your foreheads were almost touching. Spencer’s breath hitched as he felt the intimacy of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by your proximity. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, you straddled one of his thighs, your movements fluid and confident as you began to grind your hips, dancing to the beat with a natural grace that Spencer could hardly believe.

To anyone watching, it was clear you were putting on a show, the kind that would definitely catch Derek’s attention. But for Spencer? His mind was reeling. The sensation of your body moving against his, the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers played with the curls at the base of his neck—it was all too much and yet not enough at the same time. He could barely think, his brain struggling to keep up with the flood of sensations.

His hands tightened slightly on your hips, his body instinctively following your lead as he began to move with you. The nervous tension in him started to melt away, replaced by awe and disbelief. The music, the lights, the feel of you so close—it was a heady combination, and Spencer found himself getting lost in it, the world around him fading as he focused solely on you.

And then, in a moment of pure instinct, Spencer leaned in just a bit closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I think… I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

You smiled, feeling a thrill at the progress he was making, and whispered back, “I knew you would, sexy.” Spencer’s heart skipped a beat at the compliment, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a surge of confidence.

All of a sudden, you heard a loud whoop behind you, followed by a familiar man’s voice calling out, “Yeah, Reid!” The unmistakable cheer belonged to Derek, his excitement evident as he celebrated Spencer’s unexpected moment in the spotlight.

Spencer chuckled softly in your ear, the warm sound sending a delicious shiver down your spine and making your pulse throb all over your body. The sensation was intoxicating, a blend of thrill and anticipation. “It’s working,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race even faster.

“Mhm,” you breathed out, your voice catching slightly as the pleasure of your own movements began to consume you. The rhythm of the music, the feel of his body against yours—it was all too good. “Maybe… maybe we can step it up?” The words came out almost as a whisper, your breath hitching as you felt the heat between you both intensify.

Spencer’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel his curiosity in the way his breath hitched. “How?” he asked, genuinely intrigued, his voice full of anticipation.

Without hesitating, you let your hand slide up into Spencer’s hair, your fingers tangling gently in his soft curls. You tugged him back slightly, creating just enough space between you so that you could look into his eyes. The sight of his flushed face and wide, curious eyes made your pulse quicken. Then, with a boldness fueled by the moment, you leaned in and planted a wet, lingering kiss on his plump lips.

Spencer froze for the briefest of moments, his mind catching up with what was happening. But it took only seconds before he responded, his body instinctively leaning into yours. One of his hands slid from your hip to cup your face, the touch gentle yet firm as he held you close, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips moved against yours with surprising tenderness, a mix of hesitancy and eagerness that made your heart flutter.

The world around you seemed to disappear as you melted into the kiss, the music, the lights, even Derek’s cheers fading into the background. It was just the two of you, connected in a way that was both thrilling and unexpected. Spencer, normally so reserved and cautious, was now fully engaged, his lips sliding against yours with increasing confidence.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you could see the wonder in Spencer’s eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. His hand still cradled your face, his thumb brushing your cheek gently as he tried to steady his breathing.

“That… that was…” Spencer started, his voice hushed, almost reverent.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. “It was.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the lingering warmth of the kiss. Then, slowly, Spencer’s lips turned up into a shy, but undeniably pleased, smile. “I think we definitely gave them a show,” he said, his voice tinged with pride.

“Can I say something… bold, Spencer?” you asked, your voice low and a little hesitant. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race as you waited for his response, wondering if you were about to cross a line or take things to a new level.

Spencer looked at you, his gaze curious and open, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “Okay,” he replied, his voice soft but steady, clearly bracing himself for whatever you were about to say.

You took a deep breath, leaning in just a little closer so that your lips were near his ear. “What I want to do now,” you began, your voice a sultry whisper, “really isn’t for public eyes.”

The words hung in the air between you, charged with anticipation. Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly as he processed what you’d just said. The implications of your statement sent a thrill through him, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless, his mind racing to catch up.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to formulate a response. “Oh,” he managed to say, his voice a little shaky but full of intrigued curiosity. His mind reeled with the possibilities, and he found himself struggling to maintain his composure. The thought of what you might want to do, something private, something just for the two of you, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your expression playful yet sincere. “So,” you said, letting your hands slide down his chest slowly, “how about we get out of here?”

Spencer nodded, the decision coming more easily than he expected. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little more confident this time. “Let’s go.”

—

“Y/N…” Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you pushed him against the door of his apartment, the sudden impact sending a shiver down his spine. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, trying to ground himself as the intensity of the moment took over.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, finding his responsiveness incredibly alluring. “You’re so vocal,” you teased, your breath hot against his neck as you pressed your body closer to his, relishing the way he seemed to melt under your touch.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, embarrassment and desire flooding through him. “Is—is that okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he struggled to maintain control. He wasn’t used to letting go like this, to allowing himself to be so openly expressive, and part of him worried he might be too much, too intense.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your gaze filled with both reassurance and desire. “Okay?” you repeated, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “It’s so hot, Spencer.”

His breath hitched at your words, the approval and encouragement sending a rush of heat through his body. Before he could respond, you leaned in and bit down on his collarbone, the sharp sensation making him whine high in his throat, a sound that was as surprising to him as it was to you.

The noise was raw, unfiltered, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. You felt him tense under your bite, his hands tightening on your waist as he gasped, the sound vibrating through his chest. It was clear that every nerve in his body was on high alert, and the way he reacted to your touch only fueled your own desire.

You soothed the bite with your tongue, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, “You have no idea how much that turns me on.”

Spencer’s breath shuddered, his mind spinning as he tried to process the pleasure and the overwhelming intimacy of the moment. He had never felt anything like this before—this combination of need, connection, and pure, unadulterated desire. And the fact that it was with you made it all the more intoxicating.

He let out another soft groan, his hands moving down to your ass as he pulled you closer, his lips searching for yours. When he found them, the kiss was deep, hungry, and filled with a newfound confidence.

“Mmm, yeah, take what you want,” you mumbled against his lips, the words muffled by the intensity of the kiss. You could feel the desperation in Spencer’s touch, the way his hands gripped you tighter as if afraid you might slip away. His breath hitched, and he let out a pitiful moan that made your pulse race even faster.

“Oh god,” he moaned, the sound almost broken, as if he was struggling to keep himself together under the weight of his desire.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, searching for that flicker of certainty. “Do you know what you want, baby?” you asked softly, your voice a soothing contrast to the heat between you. “Have you done this before?”

Spencer nodded, his face flushed with arousal and nerves. “A few times,” he admitted, his voice trembling with the effort to stay composed.

But the moment you started to pull back, he panicked, his eyes widening in fear that he might have said something wrong. He shook his head rapidly, his grip on you tightening as if trying to keep you close. “No, please—” he started, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Calm down, Spencer,” you said gently, running your hands soothingly over his arms, trying to reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere.” Your words and the gentle touch seemed to help, and you could see some of the tension leave his shoulders.

He took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them again, there was a raw honesty in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “I really want you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with so much need that it made your knees weak.

“How do you want me?” you asked, your lips brushing against his neck as you resumed your kisses, eager to hear him say it, to know what he needed.

“On top of me,” he breathed out, the words escaping like a prayer, as if it was all he could manage to articulate in that moment.

Your breath hitched at his admission, the boldness of it sending a thrill through you. “Fuck,” you whispered, the urgency in your voice matching the fire in your veins. “Bed, now.”

Without another word, Spencer grabbed your hand, leading you toward the bedroom. His normally methodical mind was lost in the haze of desire, and all he could think about was getting you into that bed, where he could have you the way he wanted. The way you both wanted.

Clothes were gone within the blink of an eye, a flurry of movement and heated touches that left you both bare and exposed to each other. Spencer barely had time to take in the sight of you, to truly appreciate the way your skin glowed in the dim light of the room, before the need between you both took over. Before he knew it, he was beneath you, and all thoughts of slowing down evaporated as the intensity of the moment consumed him.

“Oh!” Spencer groaned, the sound deep and raw as he felt the overwhelming sensation of you sinking down on him. The way you moved around him, the rhythm of your bodies perfectly in sync, made his head spin, and he couldn’t stop the desperate noises escaping his lips as he thrust up into you, his need for you undeniable.

“You poor thing, haven’t been touched in so long, huh?” you taunted affectionately, your voice a blend of tenderness and teasing as you watched Spencer’s reaction. His vulnerability was laid bare before you, and it only made the moment between you even more intense.

“Nuh uh,” Spencer managed to shake his head, his mouth open, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on, to keep from losing control too soon. The pleasure was overwhelming, and every fiber of his being was focused on you, on this moment, on the sensation of finally being with someone who cared.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, your hand gently cupping his face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. “Look at me.”

Spencer forced his eyes open, blinking a few times before they locked onto yours. The instant his gaze met yours, he felt a swell of emotion in his chest, a deep, overwhelming sense of connection and affection that nearly took his breath away. But then, as his eyes traveled down your body, taking in the sight of you above him, that swell of emotion shifted—traveling lower, pooling in his stomach, the intensity of it making him realize just how close he was to the edge.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, his voice strained with both apology and desperation as he fought against the inevitable.

“Sorry? For what?” you asked, genuinely puzzled, your brows furrowing in concern as you tried to understand his sudden worry.

But before he could respond, before he could explain, Spencer couldn’t hold back any longer. The build-up had been too much, the combination of physical and emotional intensity pushing him past his limit. His entire body tensed beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he came, a choked gasp escaping his lips as the release hit him harder than he ever could have anticipated.

For a moment, he was lost in the sensation, his mind going blank as the pleasure washed over him in waves. And then, as the intensity began to ebb, Spencer’s eyes fluttered open again, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

“Oh my god… this is so humiliating,” Spencer mumbled, his voice muffled as he turned his head into the pillow, trying to hide the deep blush that spread across his cheeks. The embarrassment of finishing too soon, combined with the overwhelming emotions of the moment, made him feel exposed in a way he hadn’t expected.

But before he could fully retreat into his own self-consciousness, you began moving again, your hips rolling with a deliberate, confident rhythm. The sudden jolt of sensation made him gasp, his body arching slightly as the oversensitivity hit him like a shockwave. “Ahhhh,” he whined, the sound high and desperate as he gripped the sheets beneath him, barely able to process what was happening. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing,” you replied with a smirk, your voice laced with both determination and playful confidence. You didn’t plan on stopping until you reached your peak, and you were more than happy to take Spencer along for the ride. The way he reacted to your touch, the combination of pleasure and overstimulation evident in his every breath, only spurred you on.

Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. The intensity of your movements, the way you were so unapologetically taking control, left him dizzy and overwhelmed in the best possible way. It was almost too much, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to stop. In fact, with every passing second, he found himself sinking deeper into the experience, surrendering completely to the pleasure you were giving him.

As he watched you above him, your expression one of focused desire, something clicked inside him. The way you took charge, the way you seemed to know exactly what you wanted and how to get it—it was exhilarating. In that moment, despite the oversensitivity, despite the embarrassment he felt earlier, Spencer realized something that sent a jolt of warmth through his chest: he might be in love.

The thought was sudden, almost startling, but it was undeniable. The connection between you both, the way you made him feel—safe, desired, understood—it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. And as you moved closer to your own climax, Spencer found himself lost in you, his heart swelling with emotions he didn’t fully understand but knew were real.

When you finally reached your climax, the sound of your pleasure mixed with his soft, breathless moans, Spencer couldn’t help but watch you, completely captivated. The sight of you in that moment, powerful and radiant, made his heart race all over again, and he knew that whatever this was between you two, he wanted more of it. He wanted more of you.

—

Spencer fell asleep that night, more content than he could remember being in a long time, with you nestled comfortably in his arms. The warmth of your body pressed against his, the soft rhythm of your breathing, lulled him into the most peaceful sleep he’d had in years. It felt perfect, like a moment he wanted to stretch into forever.

But when Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was how the space beside him was empty, the warmth of your presence long gone. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light filtering through the curtains. As his gaze drifted around the room, he found you sitting at the edge of the bed, your shoulders hunched inward, your body trembling ever so slightly. Spencer's heart clenched in his chest, worry immediately overtaking him. Were you crying?

“Hey, hey,” Spencer murmured, his voice soft and laced with concern as he reached out to rub a comforting hand across your back. “Are you okay?”

You turned to face him, and to Spencer’s surprise, instead of tear-streaked cheeks, he was met with a smile—a somewhat bewildered, almost amused smile. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, your voice a bit shaky but clearly not from sadness.

Spencer’s brow furrowed, confusion settling in. “What’s going on?” he asked gently, his hand still resting on your back, offering warmth and support.

You held up a small framed photo, one Spencer hadn’t noticed you holding before. The frame was simple, with a picture of the team gathered in David Rossi’s kitchen, all smiles and laughter, taken during one of those famous cooking lessons that always ended with full stomachs and happy memories. Spencer’s confusion only deepened as he noticed the way you were staring at the photo.

“Why do you have a picture with my dad?” you asked, your tone light, but the question itself was heavy, full of implications that Spencer couldn’t quite grasp yet.

Spencer blinked, absolutely baffled by your words. “Your…dad?” he repeated slowly, as if trying to make sure he heard you correctly.

You nodded, your eyes flickering between Spencer and the photo. “Yeah, David Rossi. How do you know him?”

For a moment, Spencer was at a complete loss for words. He took the frame from your hands, staring down at the familiar image of the team—his family—and suddenly, the reality of your words hit him like a ton of bricks. David Rossi…your father?

Spencer swallowed, his mind racing as he tried to reconcile this new information with everything he knew about you and Rossi. “David Rossi is your father?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.

You nodded again, your smile a little wider now, though still tinged with the same disbelief that Spencer was feeling. “Yeah, he is,” you confirmed softly, almost as if you were still trying to process it yourself. “How do you know him?”

Spencer’s thoughts raced as he tried to find the right words to explain, his mind buzzing with a thousand questions of his own. But for now, he knew there was only one thing he could say. “He’s…he’s my friend. My colleague. We work together at the BAU.”

Your eyes widened at that, clearly not expecting that answer. “The BAU?” you echoed, your voice tinged with surprise. “As in, the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

Spencer nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah…that’s where I work. With Rossi.”

You both sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. Spencer could see the gears turning in your mind, just as they were in his. There were so many things to unpack, so many questions left unanswered, but right now, all he could focus on was the fact that somehow, against all odds, your paths had crossed in a way neither of you could have ever predicted.

“Oh!” you suddenly exclaimed, hopping in place as if the realization had struck you like a bolt of lightning.

Spencer, startled by your outburst, nearly jumped out of his skin. “What? What is it?” he asked, his eyes wide with alarm.

“That’s why your job sounded so familiar last night!” you continued, excitement bubbling in your voice. “You didn’t say you worked for the BAU, though. And, well, I was more focused on your lips, honestly. That’s so funny!”

Spencer felt his cheeks heat up at your words, his mind replaying the events of last night. But just as quickly, the color drained from his face as another, more terrifying thought took hold. “Oh god,” he muttered, a cold dread settling in his stomach.

“Now what?” you asked, your brows furrowing in concern at the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“I slept with Rossi’s daughter,” Spencer whispered, his voice laced with horror as if he were confessing a crime.

“Oh…” you replied, the weight of his words sinking in. “Yeah, yeah, you did.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Spencer said, his voice rising with panic. He could already imagine Rossi’s stern gaze, the questioning, the inevitable lecture, and then…death. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

“More than likely, yes,” you agreed with a playful grin, clearly enjoying the moment a bit more than Spencer was.

“How do we stop that from happening?” Spencer asked, his mind racing for a solution, any solution, that didn’t involve Rossi burying him six feet under.

You tilted your head thoughtfully before offering a lighthearted suggestion. “Uh, you could take me on a date?” you proposed, a twinkle in your eye. “Then I can tell him all about the charming man I met at the…library!”

Spencer blinked at you, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “The library?” he echoed, half in disbelief, half in awe of your quick thinking.

“Yes, the library,” you repeated with a playful nod. “Where all respectable, intelligent people meet. I’m sure he’ll approve.”

Spencer couldn’t help but crack a smile, despite the lingering fear gnawing at him. “You think that’ll work?”

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It’s worth a shot. Besides, it’s better than the alternative, right?”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. A date sounds…much better.”

“Great!” you said, your smile widening as you leaned in a little closer. “So, Spencer Reid, how about that date?”

Spencer’s heart fluttered at the way you looked at him, the tension from moments before slowly easing. “I’d love to take you on a date,” he replied, his voice softening as he met your gaze.

“Good,” you said with a satisfied grin. “Because I’d love to go on one.”

As the two of you exchanged smiles, the reality of the situation seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the prospect of something new, something exciting. And while the thought of facing Rossi still loomed in the back of Spencer’s mind, for now, he was content to focus on you—the charming, intelligent woman who had just turned his world upside down in the most unexpected way.

—

“Y/N, darling, what are you doing here?” Rossi’s voice carried a note of surprise as he spotted you walking into the bar where the team was gathered for one of their usual outings. His brow arched in curiosity, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You approached the group with a calm but determined expression, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You glanced at Spencer for a moment, offering him a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your father. “Well, Dad… I actually wanted to tell you something,” you began, taking a steadying breath. “I thought it might be a good time to let you know that Spencer and I have started seeing each other.”

“What?” The collective exclamation from the team echoed through the bar, their voices a mix of surprise and intrigue. All eyes were suddenly on you and Spencer, the weight of their attention palpable.

Rossi, however, didn’t seem nearly as shocked as the others. In fact, a knowing smile slowly spread across his face, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he had already pieced together the puzzle before you even spoke. “I see,” he said with a calm, measured tone, the smile never leaving his face. “How did you two meet?”

Before either of you could think of a more elaborate lie, you and Spencer both blurted out at the same time, “At the library.”

The synchronized response was so sudden and so in sync that it left no room for doubt—except perhaps about how rehearsed it sounded. Derek, who had been quietly observing from the side (and who knew the truth), couldn’t hold back his reaction. A loud snort escaped him, followed by a burst of laughter as he leaned back in his seat, clearly amused by the entire situation.

“Yeah, sure you did,” Derek managed between laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he held his ground, offering a weak nod. “It’s true!” he insisted, though the faint crack in his voice didn’t help his case.

You quickly jumped in, trying to salvage the situation. “Yeah, it’s true! We both… um… love reading, so it just made sense that we’d meet there.”

Rossi’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly, clearly not buying a word of it but also not pressing further—for now. “Well, I’m glad to hear you two have found something in common,” he said smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To young love and… libraries.”

The rest of the team, while still processing the news, followed suit, lifting their glasses in a chorus of chuckles and murmured congratulations. Spencer let out a breath he was holding, relieved that, at least for now, Rossi wasn’t planning his demise.

As you clinked glasses with Spencer, you couldn’t help but lean in and whisper with a playful smirk, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Spencer smiled back, though his eyes still held a hint of nervousness. “I just hope he never asks which library.”

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand under the table. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Doctor Reid.”

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edenesth · 29 days ago

Text

01. The Captain — By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

Pairing: gang leader!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Word Count: 18.1k

Summary: The Captain of the Black Pirates—respected, feared, and unmatched in strategy—lives by his sharp mind and unshakable resolve. But his carefully constructed world begins to crumble when a grave mistake leads him to torture an innocent suspect nearly to death. Haunted by guilt, his quest for redemption takes an unexpected turn, awakening a part of him he never thought existed: a desire to protect and care for someone.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, abuse, blood, scars, mentions of murder and SA, language, contains dark themes in general

SERIES MASTERLIST | ATEEZ MASTERLIST

The dim glow of lantern light flickered across the room as the gang leader held the letter between his fingers, turning it over with a scrutinising gaze. His brow arched slightly, the ivory wax seal bearing the unmistakable insignia of the White Serpents—a gang notorious for their cunning and deception, their pristine image masking venomous intent. Silent but deadly, serpents poised to strike. And Hongjoong knew them well.

"Well?" His voice was calm, almost amused, as he studied the coded message in his hand.

Yunho exhaled sharply with a shake of his head, frustration etched across his face. "She's stubborn. Won't admit to a thing. Twenty-four hours, and still nothing."

The Captain's smirk widened, dark amusement playing in his eyes. "Really? Even with this treacherous letter in her possession?" He tapped the envelope lightly. "Twenty-four hours… that's impressive. No dog has ever lasted that long." His tone was laced with mock intrigue. "Perhaps she's an especially loyal one. How interesting."

He leaned back, nodding toward the heavy iron doors leading to the basement, his voice low and confident. "A tough one to crack, no doubt. But they all crack… eventually." The distant echo of chains rattling and the creak of the doors opening sent a chill through the air. The game had only just begun.

Let's see just how long you can last.

The room was dim, suffocating in its silence, the air thick with tension and the metallic scent of damp stone. Your breath hitched as consciousness clawed its way back, and the cold, unforgiving chill bit at your drenched skin. You blinked through the sting of icy water clinging to your lashes, your trembling gaze rising to meet the source of the voice that shattered the oppressive stillness.

"Congratulations, miss!" The sudden, mocking boom made you flinch, fear coiling tighter around your chest. "You're the first to last a full day in these chambers. How very impressive!"

The man before you was smaller than the one who had been 'questioning' you earlier—a tall, lanky figure whose blows you could still feel—but this one's presence was far more terrifying. Cold authority radiated from him, his smile a twisted mockery of warmth. He stepped closer, his sharp eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "I trust my boys have treated you well."

A shiver tore through you, body wracked with uncontrollable tremors—whether from the bitter cold or the malice in his voice, you couldn't tell. His grin widened, and the false politeness only made it worse. "Fear not, my lady," he purred, his tone soft and deadly. "I'll treat you even better… until you decide to be honest, of course."

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, despair crashing over you. You tried to shake your head, but your body was too weak and cold to offer feeble resistance. And yet, you knew—this was only the beginning.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you wished for the thousandth—no, the millionth—time that this was all a nightmare. The cold seeped into your bones, but it wasn't just the chill that made you tremble. It was the gnawing fear, the hopelessness that clung to you like a second skin.

How did it come to this?

You replayed the events over and over in your mind, searching for an answer, but all you found was confusion. Just a day or two ago, you had been weaving through the bustling port, arms laden with imported goods for your employer. The crowded streets were alive with noise—merchants shouting, sailors hauling cargo, smugglers slipping through the shadows. You had only wanted to return to work, unaware that fate had already marked you.

Then it happened. A sharp turn into an alley. The sudden grip of rough hands. Black-clothed men cornering you like wolves circling their prey, eyes sharp and merciless. Their accusations—espionage, treachery—made no sense. You tried to explain, voice trembling, but they didn't listen. Not until they tore through your belongings and fished out a letter—one you had never seen before.

The blow came swiftly, a fist to your face, and the world went dark.

Now, here you were. Broken. Bleeding. Trapped in a nightmare you couldn't escape.

"P-please… I d-don't know who the Wh-white Serpents are," you stammered, forcing your swollen eye open to meet the man who seemed to command the room, his presence suffocating. "I s-swear…"

Hongjoong's tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his irritation barely concealed behind a mask of feigned calm. "You know," he said, his voice laced with a dangerous softness, "I was really hoping you wouldn't say that again." He exhaled in a mock sigh, his patience wearing thin. "Now you've left me no choice."

With deliberate steps, he moved toward the glowing embers at the far side of the room. The fire crackled, and your breath hitched when he wrapped his hand around a hot branding iron, its tip glowing ominously.

No, please...

Panic surged through you, and tears spilt uncontrollably down your cheeks. You didn't even have the strength to sob anymore. You could only watch in frozen terror as he turned back, the iron in his grasp radiating heat and menace.

"Come on," he cooed, voice deceptively gentle. "I'd really hate to ruin such pretty skin. All you have to do is be a good girl—tell me what this blasted letter says. Tell me the name of your boss." His grin was sharp, dangerous, but beneath it, you sensed his patience was threadbare.

The White Serpents. The name alone ignited his fury. Their faces were always hidden, their identities a mystery. Even their leader remained a ghost, a phantom in white. And that infuriated him more than anything—an enemy he couldn't see, couldn't predict.

And now, you were his only lead.

The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his frustration. The dim light flickered over the cold stone walls, shadows dancing like spectres of every soul that had suffered here before you. His grip on the branding iron tightened, the metal searing hot in his hand, glowing with menace. He didn't want to take this step—truly, he didn't. But the memory of how they found you replayed in his mind, solidifying his certainty.

You were guilty. You had to be.

He clenched his jaw, recalling the chaos at the port. The Black Pirates were in the midst of a crucial covert operation, tensions strung taut like a wire. They had been waiting for the White Serpents to make a move, for the elusive spy to slip through their defences. The streets were crowded, the perfect cover for deception.

Then there was you.

A simple girl, or so it seemed, navigating the busy market with unsuspecting ease. Unbeknownst to you, the real spy—the one they had been hunting—moved silently through the crowd. In a calculated move, the informant slipped the coded letter into your bag and vanished into the sea of bodies before anyone could catch him.

Hongjoong's men, sharp-eyed and vigilant, saw the handoff. They reacted swiftly, believing they had caught the elusive spy. You were cornered in the alley, fear etched across your face as you begged for understanding, your confusion only cementing their suspicions. The letter was damning enough. Evidence was evidence, and the Captain trusted his crew's intelligence.

But now, staring at you—broken, trembling, tears staining your bruised cheeks—he felt the edges of his certainty fraying. You persisted in your pleas, clinging to innocence with a desperation that should have crumbled by now. And yet… you hadn't.

"Last chance, woman," he said coldly, his voice like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. The heat from the iron radiated, the threat palpable. "There will be no going back from here. I'm sure you know that."

He meant the words as a warning for you, a final offer before he left mercy behind. But deep down, perhaps they were a warning for himself, too—a foreshadowing he didn't yet grasp.

You shook your head weakly, trembling from exhaustion and terror. Still no confession. Still the same maddening persistence.

Hongjoong raised the branding iron, holding it close to your battered face. His eyes burned with something dangerous, something teetering between anger and frustration.

"Well then," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, the finality in his tone sealing your fate—or so he thought.

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The air in the torture chamber hung heavy with the acrid stench of scorched flesh, mingling with the damp chill of the stone walls. His cold, calculating gaze never wavered as he watched you, unconscious and crumpled on the floor, your body trembling even in unconsciousness. The mark of the Black Pirates seared into your back, raw and angry, a testament to the brutality you'd endured.

"That'll scar for life," one of his men muttered, a mix of awe and amusement in his voice.

Hongjoong let out a low, humourless chuckle, his eyes dark with unrelenting resolve. "For life?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "How optimistic. I doubt she'll live long enough to see the next sunrise if she continues to be this stubborn."

His voice was void of emotion, laced with a chilling indifference that sent a shiver through even the most hardened of his men. He didn't enjoy this—not exactly—but he had no patience for weakness. If you wouldn't talk, you were nothing but a liability, and liabilities were dealt with swiftly.

He turned away for a moment, tossing the branding iron back into the fire with a careless flick of his wrist. Embers exploded in every direction, but he paid them no mind. "We've wasted enough time on her," he said, voice cold and final. "If she doesn't confess after this, end it. Finish her."

The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a death sentence. One of the guards nodded, his expression stoic. "Of course, boss."

Hongjoong motioned toward the bucket of dirty water beside you, its murky surface rippling with the slightest movement. "Wake her," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy, anticipating the agony that would soon follow.

The guard lifted the bucket with ease, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim as he approached. Without hesitation, he tilted it, the filthy water cascading over your battered body. The moment the contaminated water hit your wounds, especially the fresh burn, your body convulsed violently.

A scream ripped from your throat, raw and guttural, piercing through the oppressive stillness. It wasn't the kind of scream that came from fear—it was the sound of pure, unfiltered agony.

The Captain didn't flinch. He stood tall, arms crossed, watching with a detached curiosity as you writhed on the floor. "That's better," he muttered, almost to himself. "Now, let's see if you're ready to talk."

He crouched down beside you, his face an unreadable mask. "Final chance," he said softly, almost tenderly, as if mocking your suffering. "Who sent you?" His voice dipped lower, dangerously calm. "Or would you prefer to die in this filth, unloved and forgotten?"

The only response was the ragged sound of your breath, broken sobs wracking your body. His patience was wearing thin, and though he was a man known for his control, he was ready to end this.

A shuddering breath escaped your lips, each gasp searing through your lungs like fire. The icy water clung to your battered body, every drop seeping into your open wounds, amplifying the unbearable pain. Your vision blurred, the dim room spinning into shadows and smoke, but you clung to the fragments of your thoughts, the last remnants of who you were.

This is it, you thought, the realisation settling over you with a strange, hollow calm. This is how it ends.

You didn't know why these monsters had dragged you into their nightmare, why they believed you were a spy. You didn't understand the cruel fate that had brought you here, only that it had. And now, there was no escape. The man before you, with his cold eyes and cruel smirk, had made that clear.

Your body trembled violently, not from the cold but from the acceptance creeping into your heart. Death will be a mercy, you thought. Better this than more agony.

Closing your eyes, you let the numbness wash over you, a strange kind of peace taking root beneath the layers of fear. You thought of your friends—the laughter shared over simple joys. You thought of your family, their faces blurred by memory but still holding warmth. And you thought of your employer, the one person who had seen worth in you when the world turned away. You prayed they would not grieve too long. You prayed they would find solace.

I'll watch over them, you promised silently. From wherever I'm going.

The wet, acrid air filled your lungs, heavy and suffocating. Every second stretched into eternity, and you waited for the final blow, the one that would release you. Your heartbeat slowed, the frantic rhythm giving way to a dull, distant echo.

And then, the room grew deathly quiet.

Hongjoong remained crouched, studying you, his iron grip on control unwavering. He didn't speak immediately, and that was almost worse. The silence pressed down, a suffocating weight, as if the world was holding its breath.

"Still nothing?" His voice was soft now, eerily gentle, like a predator savouring the last moments before the kill.

You didn't respond. Couldn't. There was nothing left to say. You were ready for the end.

And then, with a slow exhale, you heard him murmur almost to himself, "What a shame."

The gang leader let out a long, slow breath, his head shaking slightly, a humourless smile curving his lips. His eyes lingered on your broken form, slumped over, trembling and soaked, but utterly still, as if you had already crossed into death's grasp. Your eyes fluttered shut, the last spark of defiance extinguished. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet, dusting off his coat with deliberate care, and with a curt nod, gestured toward his men.

"Finish it."

The words were cold and final, slicing through the room like a blade. One of the guards stepped forward, the metallic click of his gun cocking echoing in the dim space, followed by the low scrape of his boot on the wet floor. Hongjoong turned his back on you, jaw tight, waiting for the shot to ring out, waiting for the moment to pass so he could move on from this wasted effort.

But then— footsteps. Quick and urgent, echoing down the stone stairway.

"Wait."

The voice was calm but firm, cutting through the tension like a sudden gust of wind. The room froze, the guard's finger hovering over the trigger as all eyes turned toward the stairs. Yeosang emerged from the shadows, his usual cool composure replaced by something unsettled. His sharp gaze darted toward your barely conscious form before locking onto his captain, his face unreadable, but his unease unmistakable.

Hongjoong's brow lifted in mild curiosity, though his patience was wearing thin. "What is it, Yeo?" he asked, voice clipped as the Phantom strode forward, his expression grave.

Yeosang leaned in close, his voice low but firm as he murmured something into the gang leader's ear, too quiet for the others to hear. Whatever he said, it landed like a blow. Hongjoong's entire posture shifted. His jaw clenched, his fists curling and uncurling at his sides as he processed the whispered words.

The room held its collective breath.

After what felt like an eternity, the Captain straightened, his eyes dark with a new kind of frustration, though there was no mistaking the glimmer of something else—regret? Anger? It was impossible to tell.

His voice, when it came, was sharp and decisive. "Release her."

The room erupted in a flurry of confusion, but no one dared question him. The guard with the gun hesitated for only a second before lowering it, stepping back. Another moved to untie the chains binding your wrists, the cold iron clattering to the floor as your limp body crumpled forward.

Hongjoong's gaze never wavered, his face carved from stone as he watched you collapse. His men obeyed without question, though their confusion was palpable, the tension still thick in the air.

As you slumped to the ground, barely conscious, he let out another breath, slow and controlled, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Take her to the infirmary," he commanded, voice icy but steady. "And keep her alive."

His men exchanged uncertain glances but quickly moved to obey, lifting your frail body with care as they carried you out. He remained rooted, his eyes lingering on the bloodstained floor, his fists clenched once more as Yeosang watched him silently.

"I hope for your sake," Hongjoong muttered under his breath, "this wasn't a mistake."

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The heavy oak door to his office slammed shut behind him, the echo reverberating through the grand but cold space. Hongjoong paced across the dimly lit room, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls, but offering no warmth. His hand shook slightly as he poured another shot of whiskey, the amber liquid splashing over the rim. He didn't care. He downed it in one swift motion, the burn doing little to drown the bile rising in his throat.

Wrong person.

His brother's words replayed in his mind like a curse, each syllable a dagger to his pride.

"Hyung, we got the wrong person. She's not the spy—the real one escaped. This woman was just... there. A scapegoat."

He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The whiskey glass slammed down on the desk, the sharp crack of glass against wood making his men just outside the door flinch. But none dared to enter. They knew better.

His fists balled at his sides, trembling with suppressed rage—at Yeosang, at his crew, at himself. The sight of your bloodied form flashed in his mind, the raw agony in your voice as he pressed the searing iron into your skin. He could still hear the echoes of your pleas, the desperate, broken words you had whispered over and over: I'm not who you think I am... please...

He should have known.

How could he have missed it? The way you had looked at him, not with defiance or guilt but with pure, unfiltered fear and confusion. He was Kim Hongjoong, the Captain of the Black fuckin' Pirates—his instincts had never failed him before. Yet this time, he had been blinded by rage, by the need for control, and it had led him to commit an unforgivable mistake.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the desk, the polished surface groaning under the strain. No amount of wealth or power in this city could erase the image of your battered, broken body lying on the cold floor. The branded mark he had burned into your back would scar, not just on your skin but in his mind, forever.

The Black Pirates were ruthless, yes, but not reckless. Innocents were not meant to be collateral unless there was no other choice. This... this was different. It was unacceptable.

He let out a low, bitter laugh, hollow and laced with self-loathing. "How could this happen?" he muttered to no one, his voice cracking. "I'm the one who doesn't make mistakes."

But this was a mistake. A fatal one, if Yeosang hadn't intervened.

The storm inside him raged on, unrelenting. No amount of whiskey could drown it, no fire could warm the cold knot in his chest. For the first time in years, Kim Hongjoong felt something foreign and unwelcome searing through him.

Regret.

He sank into the leather chair behind his desk, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His hands covered his face, shaking as if he could scrub away the guilt, the shame. But it was branded on him now, just as deeply as the mark he had scorched into your skin.

After what felt like hours, he remained in his office, standing by the window, the golden light of the waning sun casting a sharp contrast against the deep shadows in the room. His gaze pierced through the glass, locking onto the tall, black gates of their mansion—gates that symbolised power, control, and security. Yet today, they felt like bars of a prison. He imagined how those gates must have looked to you, cold and foreboding, as you were dragged inside, far from the life you knew, thrust into a nightmare you hadn't earned.

He clenched his jaw, fists curling at his sides as the weight of his guilt continued to press down on him. One mistake. One mistake. That's all it had taken to bring you here. A mistake from his men, from him, and it had led to your torture. His throat tightened as those cruel memories clawed at him: your ragged pleas, your broken body, and worst of all, his voice—cold, detached, ruthless—demanding answers you didn't have.

Remorse surged through him, an agonising tide that refused to ebb. His own words echoed in his mind, venomous and unforgiving: "Be a good girl and tell us what this blasted letter says." His stomach twisted, the taste of bile bitter on his tongue.

He turned away from the window, squeezing his eyes shut as he clutched his head, fingers digging into his scalp as if the pain could drown out the memories. But it only intensified the haunting vision that consumed him: his mother's lifeless eyes, staring into nothingness, wide with fear and betrayal. She had died for nothing—used, discarded, and left to rot by men who saw her as collateral damage. All for debts that weren't hers to pay.

He had been just a boy—useless and powerless—as he watched her lifeblood seep into the dirt, all because of his degenerate father, who had left them behind with nothing but mountains of debt. The loan sharks had spared him, a mistake they didn't live to regret. Hongjoong had spent years rising from the ashes of that helpless child, becoming the monster who hunted monsters, the leader who swore to tear down anyone who preyed on the innocent.

Yet now, here he was, no different from the men who had taken his mother from him.

He slammed a fist onto the desk, the sharp crack splitting the heavy silence. His breathing was ragged, uneven, as his mind spiralled into the past. He had sworn not to harm the innocent.

But he had failed. He had repeated the very sin that had shaped him.

They weren't heroes. The Black Pirates were thieves, smugglers, outlaws. But they lived by one code: never harm those who didn't deserve it. They stole from the corrupt, the greedy, those who exploited the powerless. They were not saviours, but they were not supposed to be butchers either.

And now, because of his blindness, you lay broken and scarred—an innocent woman caught in the crossfire of his rage.

His hands trembled as he dragged them through his hair, staring blankly at the dark wood beneath him. His reflection in the glass across the room looked unfamiliar—haunted, lost, and consumed by a regret that would never fade.

How can I ever make this right?

The oppressive silence in the room was broken by a familiar deep voice, one he always sought when the weight of leadership became too much. "She's stable," Seonghwa said, his tone calm yet sombre.

Hongjoong exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, relief flooding through him like a tide that couldn't quite wash away the guilt. "Stable," he echoed, the word offering little solace.

His brother stepped closer, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound between them. "They've patched her up... but I don't think some of the scars will ever go away." His voice dipped into something quieter, almost apologetic. "Especially not that mark."

The gang leader winced, his fingers tightening into trembling fists. The brand—his brand—seared into her back, a permanent testament to his cruelty. "The mark," he muttered, voice hoarse with regret. "She'll carry it because of me."

Seonghwa leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms, watching him with a measured gaze. "Because of us," he corrected, though the words offered no comfort. "But this isn't like you. You don't make mistakes like this."

Hongjoong let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "And yet, I did. I fucked up. She begged, Hwa." His voice cracked, raw and ragged. "She begged, and I didn't listen."

The eldest's face softened, but he didn't look away. "Regret is pointless if it doesn't drive change," he said quietly. "We can't undo what's been done. But maybe... maybe we can still make it right."

Hongjoong looked up, his eyes hollow but desperate. "How?"

Seonghwa met his gaze, steady and unwavering. "By giving her a choice. Her freedom. Protection if she wants it. You can't erase the scars, but you can make sure she's never harmed again."

The Captain's jaw clenched. "And if she wants nothing from us? If she wants nothing to do with the Black Pirates?"

"Then you let her go," Seonghwa replied simply, his voice steady. "With the assurance that she'll never have to fear us again."

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tension coiling in his shoulders. "I don't deserve forgiveness."

"No," the Gentleman agreed softly, his voice firm but kind. "But it's not about what you deserve. It's about what she does."

The words hung in the air, heavier than any weapon, cutting deeper than any blade.

Hongjoong dragged his hands through his hair, the tremor in them betraying the turmoil within. "Tell them to keep her comfortable," he whispered, voice barely audible. "And... let me know when she wakes up."

Seonghwa inclined his head, moving toward the door but paused before stepping out. "You may never forgive yourself, Joong," he said, his voice softer now, "but that doesn't mean you can't try to do better."

As the door clicked shut behind him, the leader was left alone with the echoes of his guilt—and the faintest, most fragile glimmer of hope.

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The quiet hum of the infirmary filled the air, broken only by the soft rustle of sheets and the faint crackle of the oil lamp on the bedside table. Hongjoong stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes locked on your still form lying on the cot. The sight twisted something deep inside him, the sharp pang of guilt slicing through him once again.

"Hyung?" Jongho's voice pulled him from his reverie, soft but laced with surprise. "Why are you here?" His brows knitted together in confusion as he stepped closer. "Seonghwa hyung said to only inform you when she's awake. She's not—"

The gang leader cut him off with a subtle shake of his head. "I had to see if she's okay... for myself." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "You're dismissed. I'll take over."

Jongho hesitated, his eyes searching his leader's face, filled with concern and something unspoken. "Hyung..."

"I won't..." Hongjoong's voice faltered, his throat tightening. "I won't hurt her any further, Jongho."

The youngest sighed softly, the tension in the room heavy between them. "That's not what I—"

"I know," Hongjoong interrupted, closing his eyes and swallowing hard. "It's fine. Just... go thank the doctor for me."

Jongho lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on the Captain's worn expression. Finally, he gave a respectful bow of his head. "I'll be nearby if you need me."

With that, the Anchor left, the door clicking softly shut behind him, leaving Hongjoong alone with the stillness once more.

He stepped forward, the floor creaking beneath his boots, and sank into the chair beside the bed. His hands trembled as he clasped them together, resting them on his knees. He could barely bring himself to look at you, the bandages wrapped around your body stark against your pale skin, the ghost of the agony he had inflicted still lingering in the air.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words breaking like fragile glass. "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

The apology felt hollow, inadequate, but it was all he had. He sat there, staring at you, hoping that somehow, even in sleep, you might hear him. But the only response was the steady rise and fall of your chest, the rhythmic proof that you were alive.

Alive, but not whole.

He leaned back, his head tipping against the wall, the weight of everything crushing down on him. For the first time in years, Kim Hongjoong—the feared Captain of the Black Pirates—felt utterly powerless.

His eyes, unwilling to linger any longer on the bandages covering your wounded body, drifted downward. There, beneath the cot, something caught his attention. A crumpled, dirt-streaked tote bag sat neglected, its once vibrant fabric marred by careless fingerprints—his men's fingerprints.

He furrowed his brows and leaned forward, retrieving the bag with careful hands as if it might break apart at any moment. The stitching was amateur but charming, the drawings simple yet endearing. Scrawled in bright, cheerful lettering at the centre were the words Marigold Gift Shop.

It looked so out of place here in the dim and sterile infirmary, like a splash of sunlight drowning in shadow.

He set the bag on his lap and gently pried it open. The contents were jumbled, chaotic, but it was clear that everything inside once held meaning. Trinkets, small souvenirs from the port—a handful of seashells, a hand-painted keychain, and a delicate glass charm in the shape of a flower. These were not the belongings of a spy.

He reached deeper and pulled out a tiny notebook, its edges worn from use. His fingers brushed over the cover before flipping it open. The pages were filled with neat, dainty handwriting—simple lists:

Small wooden carvings

Candles (lavender & sea breeze)

Handmade bookmarks

Seashell jewellery

It wasn't just a list of purchases—it was a routine, mundane, innocent.

Hongjoong's throat constricted, and his hands trembled as the realisation struck him anew: you had been working. You had been on an errand for your job at the Marigold Gift Shop when they dragged you into their nightmare.

His vision blurred, his breath catching in his chest.

You had no idea who they were. No idea what danger you had stumbled into. You were just there, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it cost you everything.

Hongjoong squeezed the notebook shut, resting it against his forehead as though it could somehow absolve him of the crushing guilt. People must be looking for you—your friends, your family, your employer. The ones who had sent you on this errand, trusting you would return safely.

And now, what could he give them? A broken, scarred version of the vibrant soul they had lost. How could he face them? How could he return you to them like this?

He sat in silence, the only sound in the room the steady rhythm of your breathing and the occasional drip of water from the infirmary's ceiling. His gaze lingered on the crumpled tote bag resting on his lap, its cheerful colours muted beneath the grime. His fingers traced the fabric absentmindedly before he noticed the bucket of clean water and a spare rag near your cot.

For reasons he didn't fully understand, he stood and reached for the rag, dipping it into the water. The cloth came away damp and cool, and he squeezed out the excess with slow, deliberate movements. It was a strange sight—Kim Hongjoong, feared leader of the Black Pirates, bent over a bag, carefully wiping away the dirt and grime.

He worked in silence, the world narrowing to this singular task. Each stroke of the rag against the fabric felt like an apology he couldn't utter aloud. Slowly, painstakingly, he cleaned the tote, rubbing away the stains until the bright colours began to peek through again. The cheerful drawings and stitched patterns reemerged, fragile yet resilient beneath the care of his steady hands.

Piece by piece, he began to arrange your belongings. The trinkets were cleaned and carefully set back in place—each seashell, the delicate glass flower charm, the hand-painted keychain. He smoothed out the tiny notebook, the pages no longer crumpled but straightened with the same precision he reserved for the most critical of plans.

As he worked, he felt a strange lightness settle over him. He hadn't noticed the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips until it faded, replaced by the weight of reality as his gaze shifted back to you.

The bag, now pristine, sat neatly on the table beside you, a quiet testament to his care—a care no one, not even his brothers, had seen in years.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at you, at the bandages wrapped around your broken body, and the regret clawed at his chest again. His smile had vanished entirely, replaced by the grim determination that only guilt could bring.

How could he make this right? How could he even begin? Would you ever be able to forgive him, or himself, for what he had done?

The questions lingered unanswered in the stillness as he sat back down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly together.

He didn't know the answers. All he knew was that he had to try.

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The world swirled in an agonising haze as your consciousness began to claw its way back. Every inch of your body screamed in pain, each bruise, cut, and wound making itself known like fire crawling beneath your skin. It was almost impossible to grasp the full weight of the agony—how could anyone describe the sensation of pain this overwhelming? It was a deep, suffocating thing that made every breath feel like a battle.

You tried to open your eyes, but even that small movement was an assault on your senses. The brightness behind your eyelids was too much, the pressure of it sending a wave of dizziness crashing over you. When you managed to blink, your eyes watered uncontrollably, the effort alone nearly too much to bear. The burn on your back, the curse of that mark—his mark—lingered like a red-hot brand, the pain compounded by the memory of it being tainted with filthy, contaminated water. You couldn't even tell if the pain had dulled or if it was just the agony of everything else making it seem like the worst of it. Even if you didn't die from your injuries, you were certain that infection would claim you before long.

Slowly, with a whimper that barely escaped your cracked lips, you arched your back, instinctively trying to relieve the burning pain from the mark. The movement was weak, your body screaming in protest, but the sensation was a small reprieve. As you forced your eyes open again, blinking over and over to get your bearings, your vision began to sharpen, and the haze of confusion began to recede, bit by bit.

The white ceiling above you was a sharp contrast to the hellish basement you had been trapped in. A sterile smell filled the air, the kind that only came from a medical facility. You were no longer in that filthy, oppressive place. Were you safe now? Had someone rescued you? Was it the authorities? Or perhaps your friends, your family, or your employer had noticed you were missing and raised the alarm? Had they found you in time?

You desperately hoped for any answer that could bring you some sense of peace, but the sight before you shattered that hope in an instant.

Turning your head slightly, you froze. The tears that had started to retreat at the thought of safety now rushed back with full force. There, sitting in a chair beside your bed, was the man who had nearly ended your life.

His face was shadowed in exhaustion, his posture slumped slightly as if he'd nodded off in his seat. His presence hit you like a blow to the chest, a knot of raw fear twisting in your gut. The man who had tortured you, who had burned you, who had broken you was right there. The man who was responsible for every inch of pain you'd endured.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and despite your body's desperate need to remain still, the fear surged within you. You couldn't help but tremble, a silent cry of terror rising in your chest.

But even in your panic, something else stirred—a strange, foreign confusion. He was here. In this room. But he wasn't hurting you. Was he... watching over you? Was this some new kind of torment? A psychological game? The thought made your head spin.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you tried to shift, but your body refused to obey. You were broken in every sense of the word, and now, trapped by your own fear and pain, you couldn't make sense of anything. All you knew was that the man who had caused all of this—the man who had dragged you into this nightmare—was right there, inches away from you.

And you had no idea what it meant.

Your attempts to keep your sobs quiet failed, the soft, broken sounds escaping against your will. Each tremor in your chest seemed to echo in the sterile room, and despite the pain, your body recoiled in fear as you saw him stir. His brow furrowed, eyes fluttering open slowly, the grogginess of sleep fading as he registered the sound—and then, his gaze locked with yours.

Panic surged through you, your breath hitching violently as his dark eyes met your own, wide and trembling, your irises blown out with terror. You wanted to scream, to run, but your body betrayed you, too weak and broken to do anything but sink further into the thin blanket covering you. All you could do was shrink back, the ache in your body drowned out by the overwhelming fear coursing through your veins.

Hongjoong froze, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat. Then, he sat up straighter, slowly, deliberately, as if trying not to startle you further. His jaw clenched, and for a second, the silence stretched unbearably between you. He raised his hands carefully, palms facing you in a universal gesture of peace, his movements measured and cautious, like one might approach a wounded animal.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice low and careful, as though it might shatter you further. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

You didn't believe him. How could you? The fear in your eyes deepened, your body curling instinctively beneath the covers, though every movement brought fresh waves of agony. Your eyes darted around the room, seeking escape, seeking anyone else—but it was only him.

He sighed, a heavy sound filled with something that almost resembled regret. He stayed seated, keeping his hands up, as if showing he was unarmed would make any difference to the scars he had already left on you. "Nobody will hurt you again," he said, and his voice trembled, just barely. "That... that includes me."

You watched him, breath ragged, your body trembling with the effort to stay still. He swallowed hard, the guilt written in every line of his face as he continued, his tone thick with something you couldn't name—shame? Guilt? Desperation? "I know this is all very confusing, and you have no reason to trust me, but we made a mistake. I made a mistake."

He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed again, struggling with the weight of the words. "You're not who we thought you were. And for that—for everything we... I put you through—I'm sorry."

His apology hung in the air, but it did nothing to ease the terror in your heart. It sounded sincere, but sincerity didn't erase the pain, the scars, the nightmare that still lingered in your mind. It didn't change the fact that this man, who now sat before you looking so remorseful, had been the one to destroy you.

Tears continued to stream down your face, and all you could do was stare at him, disbelieving and broken, the word sorry echoing hollowly in your mind. He had taken everything from you, and now he expected that word to make it right?

The silence stretched between you, fragile and suffocating, as you lay there—shattered, terrified, and unsure of what came next.

As if your body had decided to break the unbearable silence itself, your stomach let out a loud, insistent growl. The sound was jarring in the stillness, so absurdly out of place that it caught both of you off guard. You gasped, clutching the thin blanket tighter to your face, cheeks burning despite the pain radiating through your body. Humiliation and fear clashed within you. Would he be disgusted? Would he regret sparing you? Was this the moment he'd change his mind?

You couldn't help but brace yourself.

But instead of anger or disdain, he simply blinked in surprise before his lips parted, and he mumbled softly, "Oh, right. Stupid me. You must be starving." His voice carried a gentleness that was almost foreign, as if the words were meant more for himself than you.

The wooden chair scraped lightly against the floor as he pushed it back, the sound startling in the quiet room. He stood slowly, the motion casual, almost hesitant. "I'll bring you something to eat," he said, the words so ordinary, so kind, that they felt unreal.

And then, just like that, he walked out of the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

You lay frozen, staring at the spot where he'd been moments ago, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Your mind spun in confusion, trying to reconcile the man who had tortured you with the one who now spoke softly and promised food. Was this some twisted game? Was he really going to bring you food—or was it laced with poison, a final, cruel trick?

But if he wanted you dead, why not just finish it when he had the chance? Why tend to your wounds, only to kill you later? The questions swirled relentlessly.

You bit your trembling lip, tears pricking the corners of your eyes again. He could have killed you. You had seen it in his eyes that day—the moment he gave the final order. You had accepted it then, surrendering to fate, your body succumbing to the darkness.

Yet here you were. Alive.

Still shaking, you turned your head to the door, trying to comprehend the reality before you. Was this real? Was he truly changing—or was this a prelude to something worse?

The confusion and fear gnawed at you, but beneath it, a glimmer of something unfamiliar lingered.

Hope.

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"Here," he said softly, holding out a spoonful of chicken soup to your lips. The aroma was heavenly—rich and savoury, exactly what your starved body craved after days without food. Your stomach clenched painfully in response, desperate for sustenance. Yet, despite the temptation, you frowned and turned your face away.

He sighed, his hand lowering slightly but not withdrawing entirely. The bowl in his other hand trembled ever so slightly as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Finally, he set it gently on the table beside you, the warm liquid inside rippling quietly.

Eyes trailing after his movements, you caught sight of your bag resting there. It wasn't in the state you remembered—no longer a crumpled, filthy mess. It had been cleaned meticulously, every stitch visible and tidy, the fabric now free from dirt and grime.

His voice interrupted your thoughts, soft and almost hesitant. "Oh yeah, your bag. I... got busy while you were sleeping and cleaned it up."

You clutched the blanket tighter, sceptical. Him? Cleaning your bag? It was absurd.

"Everything inside too," he added, a small smile pulling at his lips. "You have some pretty cool stuff."

Your eyes widened, heart racing. He touched your things? Against your better judgement, you reached out, wanting to verify the state of your belongings, only to let out a sharp cry as pain flared through your body with the movement.

He was beside you instantly, his hands hovering, unsure whether to touch or retreat. His face twisted in something that looked suspiciously like hurt when you recoiled, sinking back into the bed to avoid him.

Clearing his throat, he asked, voice soft, "You want your bag?"

You nodded timidly, watching him closely. His small smile returned, gentle and relieved. "Let me help you," he murmured, pulling his chair closer. He placed the bag on the bed between you both, unzipping it carefully for you to see inside.

For the first time since waking up, your eyes softened. Everything was as he said—clean, neatly arranged. Trembling fingers reached out for the glass flower charm nestled inside, your favourite trinket. But before you could touch it, your stomach betrayed you again with a loud, desperate growl.

Humiliated, you drew your hand back, shrinking into yourself.

He chuckled softly, reaching for the bowl again. "I know you don't trust me, and you shouldn't," he admitted, his tone gentle and sincere, "but I can assure you, this is safe to consume." To prove it, he scooped a generous spoonful and took a bite himself, letting out an exaggerated hum of satisfaction.

You swallowed hard, the sight and smell tormenting you. Still, you hesitated when he held out another spoonful.

"If you won't eat it," he said with a sigh, "then I'll finish the rest." He raised the spoon toward his own mouth as if to follow through.

Before he could, you opened your mouth quickly, and his grin softened. Gently, he fed you, the warm broth sliding down your throat like liquid gold, soothing and comforting. The flavours were simple, yet after days of deprivation, it felt like the most luxurious meal you'd ever had.

He remained calm, every action slow and deliberate, offering care despite your fear and mistrust. His patience was unsettling, yet... somehow, in that moment, the terrifying man you had known felt like a distant memory.

But the pain in your body lingered. And so did the scars.

Hongjoong felt a warmth he couldn't explain swelling in his chest as you finished the final spoonful, the empty bowl resting between you both like a fragile truce. His eyes softened as he watched you, vulnerable yet still defiant, the faintest remnants of tears glistening on your lashes. He reached forward, hand poised to wipe the corner of your lips, but before he could, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.

He blinked, and it was as if a mask fell into place. The softness in his gaze vanished, replaced by the cold, commanding demeanour you knew too well. He set the bowl on the table, the clink of ceramic against wood too loud in the heavy silence. Straightening in his seat, shoulders squared, he uttered a firm, "Come in."

You shrank back into the bed instinctively, your body curling as far from him as your injuries would allow. The door creaked open, and another man stepped inside—his brow raising slightly when he noticed you were awake.

"Hyung," he said, his tone both respectful and urgent, "you're needed at the meeting. To discuss our next steps, now that the..." He hesitated, casting a brief glance your way, as if unsure how much to say in your presence. "The actual spy remains at large."

Hongjoong nodded, the authority in his posture unwavering. "I'll be there. Thank you, Jongho." His voice was clipped, businesslike, a stark contrast to the gentle tone he'd used with you only moments before. "Summon the doctor. Have her checked thoroughly and ensure she's comfortable."

The man named Jongho gave a short nod and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a moment, the Captain remained seated, his back straight, tension radiating from him. Then, as if reminded of your presence, he turned to you once more. His expression softened, just for a second, as he offered the faintest smile—fleeting but genuine. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "No one will hurt you again. I won't let them."

Before you could react, the smile vanished, his face hardening once more as he rose to his feet. Without another glance, he strode to the door and exited, the soft thud of his boots fading into the distance.

You lay there, staring at the closed door, heart racing, mind spinning. The man who had nearly destroyed you had just promised your protection. And despite everything, a single, terrifying thought whispered through your mind:

I believe you.

The room felt unnervingly quiet after his departure, the air still heavy with the remnants of his presence. You stayed frozen for a moment, listening to the silence, your pulse still thundering in your ears. Slowly, cautiously, you shifted beneath the blanket, every movement sending fresh waves of pain rippling through your battered body.

But you endured it, your gaze locked on the bag resting beside you. Trembling fingers reached out, brushing against its fabric, now pristine compared to how you last remembered it—torn, dirtied, ruined. Carefully, you pulled it closer, clutching it to your chest like a lifeline, tears welling up as you stroked the surface. Your fingers traced over the familiar stitches and doodles, remnants of happier times, of days spent working, laughing, living.

Were your loved ones searching for you? How frantic must they be, wondering if you were still alive, hoping, praying for your return? The thought broke something inside you, and you wept silently, the tears streaming down your face as you reached inside the bag.

Piece by piece, your belongings greeted you, neatly arranged—your keychain, your tiny souvenirs, even the little trinkets you'd collected on that ill-fated day. None of them bore the grime and cruelty you had last seen, each one painstakingly cleaned, cared for. Despite yourself, a hollow sob escaped your lips, and you hated how much it affected you.

At the very bottom of the bag, your trembling hand closed around the familiar worn edges of your notebook. You pulled it out, your tears falling freely as you held it close, opening the cover with a sniffle. Flipping through the pages, you found the list you had written, the innocent to-do list that had led you into this nightmare. Your thumb traced the ink of your handwriting—dotted with tiny stars and hearts—and you almost smiled through the pain.

But it wasn't your handwriting on the newest page. You froze, blinking through your tears as you stared at the words, scrawled in a neat, unfamiliar script:

I'm sorry. I will make it right again, I promise.

Your breath caught in your throat, a sob escaping that you couldn't suppress. He had written it. The very man who had branded you, broken you. And yet here, in this quiet, fragile moment, his apology was inked into your most personal possession.

It wasn't enough. It could never be enough.

But it was something.

The notebook fell from your hands, landing on your lap as you curled around it, weeping not just from pain, but from the deep, agonising confusion that tangled with it. You didn't know what to feel anymore. Hatred? Grief? Or some terrible, unbidden hope that his words weren't just lies?

As the tears blurred your vision, you whispered brokenly to no one, "Why does it hurt more now?"

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The days stretched into a haze of silence and uncertainty. You hadn't seen him since that moment when he fed you soup and scribbled his apology into your notebook. In his absence, Jongho became a constant presence—a quiet sentinel, always bringing what you needed but never lingering too long. Aside from him, the kind doctor, with her gentle hands and soothing voice, tended to your wounds, her care meticulous and soft. But it was always just Jongho and her. Never the Captain.

At first, you felt like a prisoner, wondering what the end of this strange hospitality would bring. Would they let you go? Was this kindness a façade before some darker fate awaited? But as the days went on, your thoughts turned inward, your hands finding comfort in writing. You filled parchment after parchment with letters—letters to your parents, your best friend, your employer. They were full of reassurances you weren't even sure you believed. I'm alive. I'm safe. I will come back. But the ink soothed you, even if you knew they might never be sent.

Today was no different, except for the soft murmurs between you and the doctor as she changed your dressings. Her hands worked deftly, the cool air brushing against your skin as she peeled away the layers of gauze and replaced them with fresh, clean bandages. You let your mind drift, thinking of the promise he had scrawled in your notebook. He said he'd make it right. But how? Will I get to leave? Will I ever see my old life again? And if I do… will I ever be the same?

The faint creak of the door interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up instinctively, expecting Jongho's usual unhurried entrance. But it wasn't the Anchor.

It was him.

Your breath caught, and you froze, eyes wide as you met the gaze of Kim Hongjoong. He, too, stilled in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—guilt, perhaps? Regret? His gaze fell to your back, to the horrid brand etched into your skin, and you saw the way he flinched.

He wasn't the only one.

Your body trembled involuntarily, an instinctive recoil from the man who had caused you so much pain. The doctor, blissfully unaware of the tension thickening the air, glanced up with a warm smile. "Oh, you're here! I'm almost done, just give me a minute."

The gang leader nodded stiffly, but he didn't speak. He quickly averted his gaze, turning away as if the sight of you was unbearable. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it should be.

But not for the same reasons as before.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, clutching the edge of the blanket as the doctor finished her work, her hands light on your skin. She hummed softly, her presence a soothing balm to your raw nerves. But your focus remained on him—on the way his shoulders tensed, on the way he refused to meet your eyes again. When he did chance a glance, he caught your gaze, and you saw it clearly: shame.

His lips parted, but no words came. You wanted to demand answers. Why are you here? What do you want from me? But your voice remained trapped in your throat.

The doctor stood, packing up her supplies with a satisfied smile. "There we are," she said brightly, glancing between the two of you. "I'll leave you to rest now." She nodded respectfully to Hongjoong before quietly excusing herself, leaving you alone with him.

The door clicked shut, and the silence between you thickened. You stared at him, your heart pounding, as he stood there, still and unsure. He finally spoke, his voice low and rough, as if it hurt to say the words.

"I didn't mean to... interrupt." He looked down, hands clenched at his sides. "I only came to see how you were."

You didn't know what to say. Under normal circumstances, perhaps a thank you would have been appropriate—but this wasn't normal, and he didn't deserve that. So you kept quiet, your lips pressed into a thin line, your hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

He sighed softly, the sound barely audible, before clearing his throat and moving to sit beside you, just as he had that day with the soup. He settled into the chair with a quiet grace, attempting a small, hesitant smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze flickered to the books, papers, and pens scattered across the nursing table beside your bed.

"I hope Jongho managed to get you everything you asked for," he said gently, his voice low and careful, as if afraid to startle you. You nodded, but kept your eyes downcast, focused on your wringing hands.

His gaze followed yours, landing on the letters you had written—the stack of parchment covered in your careful handwriting. For a moment, you tensed, waiting for the inevitable backlash. Would he order his men to burn them? Would he scold you for daring to think of leaving, for daring to hope?

But instead, his voice was soft. "Would you like me to deliver them?"

You froze, lifting your head slowly, your wide, disbelieving eyes meeting his earnest gaze. He gestured toward the letters with a slight movement of his hand. "The letters," he clarified. "I could send them for you."

Your disbelief must have shown on your face, the way your brow furrowed and your lips parted slightly in shock. He saw it. He felt it. And it cut deeper than he expected. Of course, you still saw him as a monster. Why wouldn't you? He had given you every reason to believe that. If he wanted to change that, he would need to do more—much more.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself, before looking at you again with an expression that was raw and unguarded. "Look," he began, voice heavy with something that felt dangerously close to regret. "You're not trapped here, in case you're wondering. You're free to leave whenever you want."

You blinked, your heart racing at the words. Could you believe him? Could you trust that freedom was within your reach?

"It's just that…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "After everything we—I've done to you, the least I can do is help you heal. To nurse you back to health, to give you what you need. I need to make it right. That's all I want. For you to get better, to return to yourself. And if there's anything you need to make that happen… just say the word."

His voice dropped to an almost pleading tone. "So tell me—do you want those letters delivered? Is that it?"

You stared at him, searching his face for any trace of deception, any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was honesty. Whether or not it was real, you didn't know. But the sincerity in his tone, the earnestness in his eyes—it was undeniable.

And you couldn't lie to yourself. The letters were what you wanted. To set your mind and heart at ease. To reassure your loved ones that you were still alive, still here, even if only barely.

So you nodded.

He exhaled slowly, as if relieved, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a glimmer of something softer in his expression. "Okay," he said simply. "I'll make sure they're delivered."

You struggled, the words stuck in your throat like stubborn stones, not fear this time—but something else. Something unfamiliar and unsettling. You nodded again, the gesture small and hesitant, and to your surprise, he seemed to find it… endearing. His smile softened further, and though you wanted to resent him for it, there was something disarming about the warmth in his expression.

Noticing the way you hesitated, as if wanting to speak but unsure how, he shifted in his chair, intertwining his fingers and leaning forward, careful in his every movement. He stopped just short of your space, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to avoid overwhelming you. His eyes, soft and patient, held yours, and the corners of his lips tugged upward in that same gentle smile—a silent reassurance: I won't hurt you. It's okay.

He seemed aware of how much he was smiling, almost as if surprised by it himself. His eyes glimmered with something that felt out of place in a man like him—genuine kindness. It struck you then, how foreign that smile must have been on his face, as if it had gone unused for too long. You wondered who he had once been, before this life of cruelty hardened him. And you hated that part of you, the part desperate for softness, wanted to know.

"It's alright," he said softly, his voice gentle and warm. "You don't have to be afraid. Just tell me—what do you want?"

The tenderness in his tone felt unreal. This was the same man who had once stood over you, cold and unyielding, ready to snuff out your life. And yet here he was now, speaking to you as if you were fragile, precious even. It was maddening. Confusing. And yet, damn you for being nothing more than a frail human aching for kindness, your guard cracked, just a little.

You didn't know why you asked it, why this question had been sitting in the back of your mind, waiting for its chance to escape. But when you finally spoke, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, trembling with vulnerability. "Your name."

He blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, silence stretched between you, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer, almost regretful. And then, in that quiet space, he realised the truth: from the very beginning, through everything he had put you through, he had never once told you his name.

He sat back slightly, exhaling a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Hongjoong," he said, his voice steady but tender, as if offering you something sacred. "My name is Hongjoong."

Your lips parted, and though you had imagined feeling hatred for this name, it didn't come. Instead, all you felt was the raw ache of everything left unsaid.

"Hongjoong," you repeated, tasting the name on your tongue like a fragile thing, and the way you said it felt like the start of something neither of you could yet name.

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Hongjoong had made it a point to visit you every evening, just before the world outside your room fell silent for the night. At first, you dreaded those moments, unsure of his intentions or what he might say. But as the days turned into weeks, those visits became routine. He would sit beside your bed or across from you at the small table, his demeanour always calm, his tone soft and steady, and slowly, piece by piece, he unravelled the mystery of who he was, what this place meant, and how you had been drawn into their world.

His name, you learned, was more than just a name. He was the leader of this place, a sprawling mansion that served as the heart of a powerful syndicate—a gang, as you quickly realised. The people here, the ones who moved with deadly precision and cold efficiency, were his crew. Not just criminals, but men who had pledged their loyalty to him and each other in the face of a world that sought to destroy them.

You had been caught in the crossfire of a feud between two factions, mistaken for an enemy spy in a moment of chaos. It explained the brutality with which you had been treated, the mistrust that lingered until the truth emerged too late. "You weren't supposed to be hurt," he told you one night, voice thick with regret. "I didn't know who you were. If I had known..." He never finished those sentences, leaving the unsaid to hang in the air like a bitter aftertaste.

And now, the pieces fit. The puzzle you had struggled to solve finally made sense, but with that clarity came an unsettling reality: you were surrounded by criminals. Even if Hongjoong had promised safety, you were in a den of people capable of murder, of violence, of unspeakable acts committed in the name of survival and loyalty. It went against everything you believed in—your sense of morality, the honest life you had led until now.

Yet, despite your fear and discomfort, you knew you had no choice. What had happened could not be undone. The only hope you clung to was for a swift recovery, a chance to leave this world behind and return to the life you had once known.

As your injuries healed, you grew stronger. The sharp, constant pain dulled to a distant ache, and with the doctor's meticulous care, you were soon able to move around. Hongjoong had a proper room prepared for you—one more fitting, spacious, with large windows that let in the light. It was more comfortable than you dared to expect, but you knew better than to interpret it as anything more than a gesture of atonement.

Still, you couldn't deny the strange, unspoken connection that had formed between you and him. You wouldn't call it friendship—you couldn't. He was still the man who had brought you to the brink of death. But there was something. Something fragile, a bond woven through shared guilt and reluctant trust. You found yourself relying on him in ways that shamed you. You hated it, hated how you felt a strange sense of calm when he was near, as if the very person responsible for your suffering was now the anchor keeping you steady.

It was complicated. Confusing. And worst of all, it made you question whether the lines you thought were so clear—between captor and captive, between right and wrong—had begun to blur.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong wrestled with the same confusion—especially about the emotions that had begun to surface lately. He couldn't shake the persistent need to be near you. It gnawed at him like an unrelenting tide, wearing away the walls he had built over the years. He told himself it was duty, responsibility. After all, he was the reason you had nearly lost your life. If he hadn't acted so quickly on false information, none of this would have happened. He reasoned that it was only right to take full responsibility, to ensure your recovery—physically and otherwise.

That logic gave him something to hold on to, but it didn't explain everything. It didn't explain why his eyes instinctively sought you out whenever he walked the halls or the strange calm that washed over him when he saw you safe. It didn't explain the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he heard your voice or glimpsed your rare, hesitant smiles. No, it wasn't just responsibility anymore. It was something deeper, something he wasn't ready to name.

After another gruelling meeting filled with discussions of crisis management and strategies to track down the elusive spy, the Captain's head buzzed with tension. His face remained a mask of cold authority, his steps measured, his shoulders squared. He passed his men without sparing a glance, his thoughts elsewhere. Always on you. The dining hall was empty, your room vacant, and the painting room—where you often sat doodling, lost in thought—was deserted. A strange, unwelcome worry tightened in his chest.

Relief only came when he pushed open the heavy library doors and saw you standing there. You stood in a sunlit aisle, the golden light streaming through the tall windows, bathing you in a soft glow. The light illuminated your features—now mostly healed, the bruises reduced to faint shadows, the cuts mere whispers of what they had been. You were beautiful, he realised, and the realisation ached in a way he hadn't anticipated. He closed the door quietly behind him, the sound muted, careful not to startle you. His steps were slow and deliberate as he approached, his heart inexplicably racing.

You were focused on a pressed flower bookmark tucked between the pages of a book, your head tilted slightly as you admired it, your fingers gently brushing the fragile petals. The scene was simple, ordinary. Yet it stirred something in him, an unspoken truth he wasn't ready to confront.

"Marigold," he said softly, his voice low to not disturb the tranquillity. "That's my favourite flower."

You looked up, startled at first, but your expression softened when you saw him. "Really? It's mine too," you replied, your voice steady, though a hint of curiosity lingered in your tone.

A small smile tugged at his lips, softer than usual, though it carried the weight of everything left unsaid. "It is? Then you should keep it," he said, nodding toward the bookmark, surprising even himself with the offer.

"But—" you began, gesturing toward the marked page.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "I never had time to finish the book anyway. Can't even remember what it's about. Just take it. It's yours now."

Anything you want, it's yours.

For a moment, the silence between you stretched, fragile yet profound, like a delicate thread holding more than either of you dared admit. Hongjoong didn't know what this feeling was, only that it was growing. And being near you eased a part of him he hadn't realised was broken.

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The evening air was still, and the faint glow of the lamp in your room cast a soft halo beneath the door, a beacon that drew him to check on you one last time before retiring. He knocked gently, expecting the usual soft response or even a brief acknowledgement, but there was only silence. His brows knitted in concern, and he knocked again, the sound a little firmer this time. Still, no answer.

Then he heard it—a muffled yelp.

Panic surged through him. He couldn't wait. "I'm coming in," he called, his voice urgent but not harsh, and without hesitation, he pushed open the door.

The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, your shirt halfway unbuttoned, exposing your shoulder and part of your back. The fresh bandage you had been attempting to wrap around yourself lay unravelled on the floor, a tangle of gauze mocking your efforts. Your face was flushed with embarrassment, and the moment you realised he was there, you scrambled to pull your shirt back up, your movements frantic and clumsy.

He didn't look away, not out of disrespect, but because he couldn't ignore the mark on your back. That cursed brand. Every time he saw it, it felt like a punch to the gut, a cruel reminder of his failure. If he could change one thing in his life, it would be that—undoing the moment that left such a permanent scar on you. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, before finally speaking, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

"Do you need help?"

Your immediate response was a firm shake of your head. "I'm fine," you insisted, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you. He could see it all: the mess of your hair, the exhaustion etched into your face, the slight tremor in your hands. You had been at this for a while, stubbornly trying to do it alone, and it was clear that you were anything but fine.

Hongjoong sighed quietly, stepping closer, each movement deliberate and gentle, as if afraid he might scare you away. "You're not," he said softly, without accusation, without pity, only quiet understanding. He knelt in front of you, eyes level with yours, and held out his hand, palm up, an unspoken offer. "Let me help."

You hesitated, biting your lip, your pride warring with the exhaustion. But eventually, you let out a shaky breath and nodded, your eyes downcast. He reached for the discarded bandage on the floor, his movements slow, deliberate, as if trying not to disturb the fragile air between you.

Carefully, he unbuttoned your shirt just enough to reveal your shoulder, his fingers never straying more than necessary. The moment felt intimate but not in the way that made you feel vulnerable. It was gentle. Respectful. As he wrapped the bandage around you with practised precision, his hands were steady, careful not to brush against your skin more than needed.

"You don't have to do everything alone," he murmured as he fastened the bandage, his voice like a balm. "I know you're strong, but you can let someone help you."

You didn't respond immediately, the warmth of his words sinking in as you sat in silence. Finally, you whispered, "Thank you."

He gave a faint smile, one you didn't see but could hear in the softness of his voice. "Anytime."

You finally turned to face him, your breath catching when you realised just how close he was. His face, so much softer now than the man who had once been your captor, was mere inches away. As if more modest than you, he quickly moved to help button your shirt, his fingers deft but gentle, avoiding your gaze as if giving you privacy in a moment that was anything but private. Your eyes, however, couldn't stop following the sincerity etched into his expression, hating the way it made your heart race. How could your body betray you like this, reacting to someone who had once been so cruel?

You swallowed hard, trying to banish those thoughts, and lowered your gaze. That's when you noticed his wrist peeking from the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. It was the first time you saw them, the scars that twisted from his elbows to his wrists like angry, jagged reminders. Your brows furrowed, curiosity—and something deeper—propelling you forward. Without thinking, your hand reached out and grasped his as he pulled away, holding it gently.

"H-how'd you get these?" your voice trembled, more from the vulnerability in the air than any fear.

Hongjoong stilled. The small smile on his face faded, replaced by a haunting stillness. He pulled his hands back gently, as if realising for the first time he had no right to be near you, no right to touch you. He placed your hands carefully back in your lap, almost reverently, and turned toward the window, the fading sunlight casting shadows across his face.

A humourless chuckle escaped him, low and bitter, as he glanced at the scars on his arms before shifting his gaze to the darkened horizon. "Let me tell you the story of a boy," he began, his voice void of emotion but heavy with pain, "who had everything taken from him. Not that he had much to begin with—only a mother who loved him more than anything." His voice cracked, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. "Even that wasn't enough for fate."

He didn't look at you, eyes fixed on the darkening sky, as if it held all the answers. "My father was a worthless drunk with a gambling problem. He left us with nothing but debts, and my mother… she worked herself to the bone, trying to keep us afloat. But it was never enough. The loan sharks came one night." His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I was too young to understand what they wanted, why they were shouting at her. But I remember… I remember watching them beat her to the ground."

His voice dropped to a whisper, but it cut like a blade. "I watched them strip her, violate her, and when they were done, they slit her throat as if she were nothing." He exhaled shakily, his jaw tightening. "They left me there with her body. Taunted me. If they had known what they created that night… maybe they wouldn't have left me alive."

You sat motionless, your heart aching at the raw truth of his confession. Suddenly, everything made sense—how he had become this way, hardened and cold. You could understand now, even though it hurt to. Perhaps you would have become the same if you had endured such horrors. No one is born evil. We are all blank canvases, shaped by what we experience, by the pain life forces us to endure.

His eyes fell to the scars on his arms, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips. "These," he murmured, flexing his fingers as if feeling the memory burn anew, "are souvenirs from that night." His voice grew colder, distant, as if reliving the moment. "I remember their nails clawing at my arms, desperate to cling to life. But it didn't matter. Those bastards were never going to escape."

Despite the chilling edge in his words, you felt no fear. Instead, you saw the boy hidden beneath the armour, a boy the world had broken too soon. He turned back to you, his eyes no longer cold but filled with a deep, aching regret. "And that's why," he said, voice trembling with emotion, "I wish I could undo what I did to you. I swore I'd never harm the innocent, never become what they were. But I failed." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. Nothing I do will ever make this right."

To his surprise, you reached out, your hand resting gently on his shoulder, offering comfort where he expected none. He turned to you, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to let fall.

"It's okay, Hongjoong," you said softly, your voice unwavering yet gentle. "Everyone makes mistakes."

And then you smiled—a small, genuine smile, brimming with forgiveness. It shattered something within him, but it also healed something far deeper, a part of him he thought was long dead.

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Things had shifted significantly between you since that fateful night when he first bared his soul, revealing the shadows of his dark past. Your understanding unlocked something in him, and in turn, you also began to open up. Little by little, you spoke more, smiled more freely, and allowed yourself to be vulnerable in his presence. Hongjoong, too, had changed. What once were brief visits to check on you became shared meals, quiet conversations, and the gentle ritual of him changing your wound dressings daily. It had become a routine—a comforting rhythm filled with tender moments, lingering touches, deep gazes, and countless almosts.

Almost kisses. Almost confessions. Almost something more.

Just a little longer, he told himself, fighting the constant urge to feel your lips against his. He needed to earn your trust fully before daring to take that step. He knew he didn't deserve you—but the heart wants what it wants.

But of course, just as he allowed himself to believe things were finally settling, reality reminded him otherwise. He should have known better than to think peace could last in his world. You and he had grown closer, but the life he led was never one to offer tranquillity for long. Conflict loomed on the horizon. An important meeting was fast approaching—a meeting arranged long before you had entered his life.

The Black Pirates, an organisation that had always operated with an exclusively male force, had struck a delicate negotiation with the Red Room, a renowned spy training facility specialised in producing elite female operatives. Though both syndicates had thrived independently, they saw mutual benefit in an alliance, especially as the shadowy threat of the White Serpents continued to grow. A treaty was in the works and was supposed to be one of Hongjoong's top priorities.

Yet, things had changed. You were here now, and part of him refused to leave you. The thought of being away, of leaving you vulnerable even for a moment, gnawed at him. So he made a decision: Seonghwa would attend the meeting in his place. The eldest, the Gentleman, was their best negotiator, and if anyone could secure a favourable outcome, it was him.

"It's set then," he said, his tone final. "Seonghwa will represent me for this." He leaned back slightly, eager to conclude the meeting and return to you.

But he should have known better than to expect it would be accepted without protest.

The moment the words left his mouth, Mingi's hand slammed onto the table, the force reverberating through the room. "Really, hyung?" he spat, his voice heavy with frustration. "You're going to send someone else on your behalf for something this important? I was already fed up with this nonsense, but enough is enough!"

The screech of the temperamental member's chair echoed as he shoved it back, rising to his feet, the fire in his eyes blazing. Yunho reached out, gripping his arm in warning, but Mingi shook him off, his glare fixed on their leader.

"No!" he growled, his voice rising. "When will this madness stop?! I'm sick and tired of you being distracted by her. At first, I understood—you felt guilty, like you owed her something. But now? You're letting it go too far! You've been wasting precious time hovering around her, growing soft! And now you're putting our work at risk. When does it end, huh?"

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with the weight of Mingi's accusation. Hongjoong remained seated, his fingers interlocked on the table. He met the taller man's gaze with a cold, unwavering stare.

"Sit down, Mingi," he said quietly, his voice calm, but the authority in it was unmistakable.

Mingi didn't move, his jaw tight, defiance radiating from him. "Answer me," he demanded. "When does it end?"

The room seemed to hold its breath.

"You think I'm neglecting my responsibility," Hongjoong said, his voice low, even, and far colder than before. He rose slowly, pushing his chair back with a deliberate grace. "You think I'm growing soft. Maybe you're right." His eyes, sharp and cutting, bore into Mingi's. "But everything I do is for this gang's survival. Including ensuring her safety."

Mingi scoffed, disbelief written across his face. "Her? She's not one of us. She's a—"

"Enough," Hongjoong snapped, the steel in his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He stepped closer, towering over Mingi now. "You question my judgement again, and it won't be this quiet." His voice softened, but the danger in it was palpable. "I trust Seonghwa to handle this. And I trust you to remember your place."

For a moment, it seemed as if Mingi might push further, but his best friend, the Enforcer's hand tightened on his arm, a silent plea. He growled in frustration and, after a tense beat, finally sat down, seething but silent.

Seonghwa's calm voice broke the heavy quiet. "I'll handle it, Cap. You've made the right call." He shot a glance at Mingi. "We all want the same thing: to be stronger, united. Let's not lose sight of that."

Hongjoong's shoulders relaxed slightly, though his eyes never left Mingi. "Good," he said, his tone final. "Then it's settled."

As the others filed out, Mingi lingered near the door, shooting one last glare at his leader before leaving without another word. The Captain remained behind, letting out a long breath, the weight of the confrontation pressing on him.

He should have known peace wouldn't last. But as his thoughts turned to you, one question echoed in his mind.

How much more would he have to sacrifice to protect you before it all fell apart?

Fortunately—and unfortunately—you had already found the answer to his unspoken question.

"Hongjoong," you whispered, your voice trembling as it cut through the stillness of the dimly lit library.

The soft glow of the lamps cast gentle shadows over the shelves, wrapping the room in an intimate quiet. Across from you, he sat, his eyes warm and attentive, watching you with that familiar, close-lipped smile—the one that always made your heart stutter. His expression was gentle, full of a quiet tenderness that you both craved and feared.

But tonight, that smile felt like a dagger. It broke something inside you, making what you were about to say hurt even more.

"Yes?" he responded just as softly, his voice a soothing balm you didn't deserve. He leaned forward slightly, the care in his gaze evident, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as they clutched the delicate bookmark he had given you, your lifeline in this moment of unbearable heaviness. "I'm… I'm all better now," you began, the words sticking in your throat. "I wish to leave. I want to go home."

The change in him was immediate. His smile vanished, and his hand shot across the table, grasping yours before you could pull away. His touch was warm but trembling, desperate. "Wha—where is this coming from?" His voice cracked, panic threading through every word. He hadn't known how long he'd have you by his side, but he never imagined losing you this soon. He wasn't ready. "Was it Mingi? Did he say something to you? I swear to god, if he—"

"No," you interrupted, shaking your head firmly, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "He didn't do anything." You squeezed his hand, trying to draw strength from the contact. "I just… I think it's time. Time for both of us to return to our own lives."

His grip tightened, his eyes wide with disbelief. "No," he whispered, shaking his head as if refusing to believe your words could make them untrue. "You don't have to do this. You don't need to leave yet. The doctor—I'm having her work on something for the mark. You're not healed, not really."

You bit your lip, his raw emotion tearing through your resolve. You wanted to stay—God, how you wanted to stay—but the memory of that argument was too fresh. You had stood outside the meeting room earlier, waiting for him to finish, only to hear Mingi's voice raised in anger, accusing him of neglect, of weakness. And you had heard Hongjoong's silence—heavy, burdened. You couldn't be the reason for his pain. You couldn't be the weakness he couldn't afford.

"I heard it all," you confessed, voice trembling. "The argument. I know how much I'm complicating things for you." Tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away. "It's not fair—to you, to them. We're from different worlds, Hongjoong. You and I… we were never going to work." Your voice softened as you finally named what had been unspoken: the feelings between you both.

His face crumpled, the pain etched into every line devastating to witness. "Don't do this," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please… don't."

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. "This is how we make things right," you whispered. "You wanted to fix what you did, to give me a chance at freedom. This is it."

Silence engulfed the room, thick and suffocating. Slowly, he let go of your hand, as if releasing it would break him entirely. His head bowed, shoulders slumping under the weight of your decision.

"Oh…" It was all he could manage, and the raw pain in that single word nearly undid you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The quiet of the library, once a sanctuary, now felt suffocating. You had made your choice, and you believed it was the right one.

So why did it hurt so much?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, standing from your chair. You hesitated, wanting to offer some kind of solace, but knowing it would only prolong the pain. "Goodnight, Hongjoong."

With every step you took toward the door, it felt as though pieces of your heart were left behind. And when you reached the threshold, you heard it—his broken, whispered plea.

"Don't go."

But you didn't stop. You couldn't. Because sometimes, love wasn't enough.

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As if running from you could change the inevitable, Hongjoong buried himself in work, pouring over plans and strategies like a man determined to forget. Meetings stretched longer, tasks multiplied, and he worked late into the night, ignoring the hollow ache growing in his chest. But no amount of work could silence the truth—or erase the memory of your soft, breaking voice.

He could only run for so long.

One day, the quiet was broken by Jongho's hesitant knock on his office door. The youngest cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably under the Captain's tired gaze. "What is it?" he sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to mask the weariness in his voice.

Jongho straightened, his eyes darting to the barely open door behind him. Hongjoong followed his gaze and froze. There, framed by the narrow gap, was the unmistakable outline of your back.

"It's her, hyung," Jongho said softly, his tone more hesitant than usual. "She... she asked the doctor to give her one final check. To make sure she's fully healed." He paused, as if reluctant to continue. "She expressed her desire to leave."

The words struck like a blade, sharp and final. For a long moment, Hongjoong said nothing, his eyes locked on the empty doorway as if he could will you to return. But deep down, he knew there was nowhere left to run.

He had been a fool to believe that anything could make you stay. He put himself in your shoes for a fleeting moment, imagining what it must be like. You had a life beyond these walls—a life waiting for you to return. And even if you chose to stay, how long could he truly keep you safe in his dangerous world? How long before the life he led consumed you, too?

And even if, by some miracle, you stayed—would your loved ones ever accept him? A gang leader with blood on his hands and sins too deep to cleanse?

No. The answer was clear.

As much as it tore him apart, he knew this was the mercy you deserved. He couldn't chain you to his darkness, couldn't selfishly hold on when letting go was the only way to truly love you.

"You're right," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "You have a life of your own. I can't ask you to stay."

The Anchor remained silent, watching his leader with a rare softness in his eyes.

Men like him were never meant to love. Not after all the sins he had committed, all the lives he had taken, all the wrongs he could never make right. He didn't deserve you—not your kindness, your laughter, or the warmth you so effortlessly gave.

No matter how much he wished otherwise.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the door, his voice steady but hollow. "Thank you, Jongho. I trust you to make the proper arrangements for her departure."

The youngest hesitated for a moment, but when he met the finality in Hongjoong's eyes, he nodded and left quietly, the door clicking shut behind him. Silence settled over the room again, heavy and oppressive—until the door creaked open once more. The gang leader's head snapped up, irritation flashing in his eyes, but it melted away the instant he saw who it was.

You stood hesitantly in the doorway, peeking in like you weren't sure you belonged there anymore.

He shot up from his seat, his movements hurried. "O-oh, it's you. Come in..." His voice softened, and you offered a small, tentative smile as you stepped inside. He gestured toward the worn leather couch. "Please, have a seat."

But you shook your head. "No, I shouldn't stay long. I just… came to thank you for respecting my decision."

He exhaled, a bitter sound escaping his lips. "Don't thank me for that." His voice was low, laced with frustration, though not at you. "It shouldn't have taken me this long to agree. You were right." His lips curved into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. The pain there was unmistakable, and it clenched your heart painfully. "This… it has to end eventually. After all, I'm the one who did this to you. I can't possibly expect you to return my feelings—"

"Stop," you whispered, closing your eyes, shaking your head as if to ward off the self-loathing in his voice. Too late. You already had returned those feelings, and hearing him like this shattered you. "No, Hongjoong, don't say that. I just..."

He stilled, his gaze searching yours as you opened your eyes and met him, resisting the desperate urge to reach out and cup his face, to pull him into the comfort you knew he craved. But you couldn't. So instead, you smiled, soft but trembling, and extended a hand toward him.

"I'm feeling a little hungry," you said gently, your voice trembling just enough to betray your emotions. "Want to have dinner together?"

For a moment, he simply stared at you, as if unsure if he had heard correctly. But how could he possibly say no? Besides, this could very well be your last meal together. Everything else could wait—damn it all.

Until the moment you were safely returned home, you were all that mattered to him.

Just until tomorrow.

Jongho had arranged your ride back tomorrow.

Hongjoong couldn't pretend anymore. He knew this would likely be the last time he'd have you like this, in this fragile peace. So, tonight, he let the walls fall. He no longer resisted the urges that had haunted him for weeks. When he reached out to feed you, gently wiping a stray bit of food from the corner of your lips, you didn't flinch. When he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin with a tenderness that made his chest ache, you didn't pull away.

And you didn't say a word. You just let him.

By the end of the meal, when he saw the glimmer of hesitation in your eyes—knowing you were preparing to retreat to your room—he acted quickly, grasping your hand before you could leave. His touch was firm but not forceful, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, almost pleading.

"Would you like to… walk with me?"

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes searching his as if trying to memorise everything about this moment. Then, wordlessly, you nodded. He led you through the grand halls of the mansion, out to the sprawling, maze-like garden, where the soft glow of lanterns illuminated the paths.

Your hands remained entwined the entire time.

The garden was silent except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze. He guided you to the centre, where a marble fountain stood, the gentle sound of water trickling into the basin adding to the quiet serenity. Clearing a spot on the cold concrete, he shrugged off his blazer, laying it down carefully before gesturing for you to sit. You did, settling beside him as the horizon stretched before you, bathed in soft, silver moonlight.

"This is nice," you murmured, breaking the silence, your voice almost lost in the cool night air.

He smiled, his gaze softening. "It is, isn't it?"

For a while, neither of you spoke. The dim lanterns cast a golden glow, wrapping you both in a warmth that felt almost unreal. Slowly, as if afraid you might slip away, he placed his hand over yours once again. This time, your fingers intertwined naturally, effortlessly, as though they had always belonged that way.

No words were necessary. Every touch, every glance, spoke of everything you felt but couldn't say.

Your heart raced as you turned toward him, only to find he was already watching you. His eyes were dark, filled with emotions you didn't dare name. He leaned in, bit by bit, closing the space between you. Your breath hitched, trembling, but you didn't move away.

"Just for tonight," he whispered, his voice rough and raw. "Can we be together? Just for tonight."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your heart aching with the weight of the unspoken goodbye. You nodded, your voice barely above a breath.

"Please."

And then, there was no more distance between you.

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The morning light streamed softly through the curtains, painting the room in golden hues. Hongjoong stirred awake, the weight of sleep heavier than usual, but a comforting warmth grounded him. Instinctively, he snuggled closer, burying his face into the inviting scent that had become his solace.

It took only a moment for the realisation to hit him. The feminine scent, delicate and intoxicating, filled his senses. His heart skipped a beat as he opened his eyes to find you still in his arms, your back pressed against his chest, your breathing soft and even.

For a long moment, he stayed still, simply taking you in—the way your hair spilt over the pillow, the peaceful rise and fall of your shoulders, the warmth that radiated from you. Leaning closer, he pressed a tender kiss to your bare shoulder, the memory of last night rushing back like a tidal wave.

Kisses. Endless, intoxicating kisses, your lips against his as if you were trying to fill every unspoken word between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, your hands gripping his shirt, neither of you willing to let go. The clumsy, desperate stumbling through those kisses until you landed on the expanse of his king-sized bed—so often feeling too big, too empty for just one.

Articles of clothing had been shed piece by piece, carelessly scattered across the floor. And then… pure, unrestrained bliss. The feel of your skin against his, the soft sighs and whispered names, the way your bodies moved together like they were meant to fit. It was a night he would never forget, and one he knew he could never have again.

He swallowed hard as reality settled in. It was bittersweet, finally knowing what it was like to have you this close, only to face the cruel truth that he would have to let it all go soon. His gaze fell on the mark on your soft skin, the one that started it all, and he sighed deeply.

It was the right thing to do.

He repeated the mantra in his head, clinging to it like a lifeline. You deserved more—someone who could give you the kind of life you were meant to have, one without fear, without shadows. Someone who wasn't him.

But for now, just for this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tightened his hold on you, his arm curling around your waist as if he could stop time by keeping you close. He etched every detail into his mind: the way your warmth seeped into him, the way your presence calmed his restless heart, the way this morning felt like a fragile dream he never wanted to wake from.

Because soon, it would all be over.

And he would have nothing left but these memories.

His temporary haven shattered with a jarring intrusion. The door to his bedroom flew open, and Jongho rushed in, his expression a mix of concern and urgency. "Hyung, she's not in her room—"

The Anchor's voice faltered mid-sentence as his eyes landed on you, curled up in his leader's embrace. The man sat up quickly, pulling the blanket to cover you to your neck, his glare sharp enough to cut steel. Jongho froze like a deer caught in headlights, his usual composure obliterated by the scene before him.

You stirred at the commotion, blinking yourself awake. It didn't take long to realise what had happened. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you scrambled to free yourself from the blanket and darted off to the attached bathroom. "Excuse me," you mumbled hastily, your voice barely above a whisper, before closing the door behind you.

Jongho stood awkwardly, visibly cringing under Hongjoong's icy glare. "I didn't mean to—"

"Out," the Captain growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The youngest didn't need to be told twice. With a quick bow, he fled the room, muttering apologies under his breath.

Hongjoong exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as the weight of the morning settled on his shoulders. Deciding to give you the privacy you needed, he rose from the bed, grabbed his robe, and slipped it on before leaving the room.

As he stepped into the hall, he was greeted by none other than the Firestarter, leaning casually against the wall with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Had fun, Cap?" Mingi drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "Hope that pussy was worth everything."

Hongjoong's expression darkened instantly, his eyes narrowing into a glare that could rival a storm. "Speak for yourself, Song," he shot back, his voice steady but laced with venom. "Come mock me when you don't need an exiled noblewoman to save your ass time and time again."

Mingi's smirk faltered as Hongjoong took a step closer, his words cutting like daggers. "Don't think I haven't heard about your multiple near-failures. At least I haven't fucked up anything critical. Also," he added, his tone dropping into something bitter and final, "she's leaving today. I hope you're happy."

The weight of Hongjoong's words left Mingi speechless, his cool façade crumbling. His jaw tightened as he struggled to muster a response, but nothing coherent came to mind.

Clearing his throat, he straightened and forced a shrug, attempting to reclaim his composure. "About damn time. Good riddance," he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge. Without another word, he turned and stalked off, leaving the gang leader standing there, his chest tight and his mind racing.

As much as he loathed the confrontation, he couldn't help but feel a bitter sense of satisfaction. At least now, Mingi might think twice before throwing careless words around. But the victory was hollow, his thoughts quickly returning to you.

With a deep sigh, he leaned against the wall, his fingers tracing the edge of his robe. The hours ahead loomed like a storm on the horizon, and he knew they would be some of the hardest he'd ever faced.

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The air was thick with the weight of unspoken emotions as the black car idled behind you, its engine a soft hum against the gloomy backdrop. The overcast sky seemed to mirror the heaviness in both your hearts, the grey clouds threatening rain at any moment. You stood before Hongjoong, your trusty tote bag slung over your shoulder, dressed simply but beautifully, your hair pulled into a messy yet endearing style. You tried to smile, but it trembled at the edges, betraying the storm within.

Neither of you spoke right away, the silence filled with everything you wanted to say but couldn't. Instead, you reached into your bag, pulling out the glass flower charm—the delicate token you had cherished for so long.

"Give me your hand," you murmured softly.

He stepped closer without hesitation, his hand extended between you. The roughness of his palm contrasted sharply with the fragility of the charm as you placed it gently into his hand. His fingers curled around it instinctively, the same hand that once had only known destruction now cradling something so delicate with utmost care.

"For you," you said, your voice steady but laden with emotion. "It's no marigold, but—"

He cut you off with a bittersweet smile, the pain in his eyes unmistakable. "I'll cherish it," he promised, his voice quiet but resolute, as though the words themselves were a vow.

He didn't let go of your hand, his grip warm and steady. You nodded, returning his smile. "Good. Treat it with care," you said, stepping closer, your proximity making his breath hitch.

The scent of his familiar cologne wrapped around you as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed against his skin as you whispered, "You did it, Joong. You made it all right."

His eyes fluttered closed, savouring the moment, the warmth of your presence etching itself into his memory. But then, as much as he wanted to keep you there, you pulled away gently, slipping out of his grasp.

Your backward steps toward the waiting car felt like a slow unravelling, each step tugging at the threads of his heart. He fought every instinct to run to you, to pull you back into his arms and beg you to stay, but he knew he couldn't.

As you slid into the car and shut the door, he stood rooted to the spot, his chest tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He watched helplessly as the car began to roll forward, taking you further and further from him until you were nothing but a distant blur.

"It's for the best," he whispered to himself, though the words felt hollow. "You did the right thing."

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through his haze of sorrow. Turning, he found one of his men standing hesitantly nearby. "Boss," the man said carefully, "we received an update from Seonghwa. His visit to the Red Room is going to be extended due to... undisclosed circumstances."

And just like that, Hongjoong was thrust back into the chaos of his world. He nodded, his voice cold and detached. "Got it. I'll speak with the others."

He turned and strode back toward the mansion, his steps purposeful despite the turmoil inside him. His men watched him carefully, unsure if the heartbreak would erupt into anger, but he remained composed, his demeanour unreadable.

Once inside, he glanced down at the delicate charm still resting in his palm. It caught the dim light of the hall, glinting faintly like the remnants of a dream. His grip tightened around it, not enough to damage it, but enough to ground himself.

It hurt—god, it hurt—but he found solace in the fact that he had been able to love again, even if only briefly. He didn't know how long it would take for the ache to fade, perhaps it never would, but one thing was certain: he would never forget you.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

The dim light of the room cast long shadows across the walls, the flickering of a single desk lamp providing the only illumination. The figure leaned back in his chair, his gloved fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of the table. Before him lay a folder, its contents an intricate web of intel painstakingly gathered. At the very top, clipped securely, was a photograph of the Black Pirates.

The leader's face was circled in white ink—a mark of vulnerability disguised as power.

"Seems we've secured the Captain's weakness right from the start," the figure murmured, a sinister grin spreading across his face. His tone carried a disturbing mixture of amusement and certainty as he flipped the folder shut, the sound of paper against paper breaking the tense silence.

A subordinate stood nearby, his posture stiff, his eyes darting to the file with barely concealed curiosity. "Should we proceed then, sir?" he asked, his voice low but eager.

The figure chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, and shook his head. "There's no hurry," he replied, his gloved hand resting atop the closed file like a predator savouring its next move. "Time is what we've got. Let them believe they've found their footing. Let them think they're safe."

He pushed the file to the side, leaning forward, his grin widening as his eyes gleamed with cruel intent. "We'll gather them all, one by one. No need to rush—it's always better when the prey doesn't see the trap until it's too late."

The subordinate nodded, though a hint of unease flickered across his features. "Understood, sir."

The figure reached for a glass of whiskey sitting untouched on the desk, swirling the amber liquid as if it contained the answers to every question. "Patience," he said, almost to himself, his voice low and reverent. "Patience wins wars. Let's see how far the mighty gang can go when their carefully constructed world begins to crumble."

He raised the glass in a mock toast, the light catching the golden liquid. "To the Black Pirates. And to the beginning of their end."

The room fell silent again, the only sound the faint creak of the leather chair as the figure leaned back, eyes fixed on the file. Somewhere, far from the machinations of this dark plot, Hongjoong might have felt a shiver down his spine. But for now, he was blissfully unaware, the weight of his loss still fresh, the memory of your departure his only torment.

And so, the game began.

Would you believe it? About 90% of this was drafted in a sleep-deprived state HAHA the first thing I do as soon as I get home from work is write this, so I genuinely hope this met expectations!

Are you or are you not surprised by the lack of a happy ending? If you know me well (especially readers who have been here since TWTHH), you probably saw this coming🤠

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #by order of the black pirates #the captain #ice on my teeth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #gang au #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez fic

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