#call it the Revenge Dress

[the-writing-mobster]

| The Most Dangerous Game | Frisk Starling | 💙🔪💔

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v i b e —

[ibelongtotheclassics]

Sharing some of my childhood + present anime & studio ghibli OTPs

*uwu* they're so precious for meee 💖🎬🇯🇵

< PART 2 / on-going list >

[hanzajesthanza]

me whenever the short story "something ends, something begins" is mentioned, or not even mentioned, but i have an opportunity to mention it myself

[vonlipvig]

more monte cristo posting and baby ANOTHER ONE DOWN LET'S GOOOOO

[chuluoyi]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

[lyonnerileyauthor]

the prince married you on a warm summer day under cherry blossoms. he called you his most precious thing, and kissed you as if you were the only two people alive. perhaps he wasn’t very gentle with you on your wedding night, but that was how things are, or so your handmaid said.

it was when he began to turn away from you in the night that you felt the frigid wind of change. you had come from another land, another kingdom, and given up everything you knew. should you ever die, it would all fall to him.

on a brisk winter walk, the prince turns to you under that very same cherry tree, now withered like an old crone’s hand. the knife shines in the light reflected off the snow as he drives it into your chest. while blood drips from your lips, he leaves you for the wolves to find.

you beg and plead for this not to be the end. you want revenge.

that is when He comes, stepping through a gash in the world.

his horns are tall and straight, his features both those of a man and a wolf. behind him flows a long, black cape, only partially disguising his naked body. fur rolls down from his hips to his cloven hooves.

“so intent on living.” he bends down over you, tracing the blood that dribbles down your face. “and what would you do, should I give you another chance?”

the words come out a gurgle. “I would kill him.”

this clearly pleases him. he licks the blood off of you, delighting in the taste. at last his mouth settles over yours, his tongue sliding between your lips. it is soft and yet demanding, delicious and sinful.

all at once, fresh breath fills your lungs. you sit up in the snow, and though your dress is soaked with your blood, no wound remains at all. he helps you to your feet, never once letting go of your hand.

“you made a promise,” he says in your ear, nibbling your lobe. “don’t forget.”

it is easy to find the prince where he sleeps in his bed. with the same dagger, you pry open his flesh and withdraw his beating heart. it is a gift to your new lover.

He is pleased with your work, and rewards you with his thick cock. he is gentle in a way the prince wasn’t, but never relenting in his claim on your pleasure. with the deed done, he takes you back to hell with him, where you can be a princess once more.

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING SEUNGCHEOL INCLUDES…. — sfw

• sugar daddy or boyfriend? (the answer is both.)

• the definition of a REAL MAN. no one has ever treated you with as much respect or given you as much love as seungcheol has.

• you're his pretty little passenger princess and he's your personal chauffeur.

• mom and dad of the group, duhhhh.

• he would drop anything and everything just to give you his undivided attention, no matter how important it is.

• yes. he would still love you if you were a worm.

• he would definitely give you his bank card without a second thought. it would also be linked to your phone, he insists on you using it always and would throw a fit when you don't.

• you would also give him your card at times and he always takes it without a fight, but would never use it.

• would take you out on dates in which you can dress up pretty and maybe dine at a fancy and EXPENSIVE restaurant. don't be fooled though. he also pays attention to the little things so if you're into books, he's taking you to a library themed restaurant. if you like animals, he's booking a ticket to orlando and ya'll are going to the rainforest cafe or something.

• you would never have to lift a finger ever again.

• he would wash your car, fill it up with gas, and take it to go get serviced without any complaints.

• he would burn down the world for you.

• he always puts you first. if he had to pick between you or the company (if they ever made him choose) he doesn't even need to think, it would be you every time.

• also your body guard ! any social gathering ya'll attend, he always has his eyes on you no matter how far away you are from him.

• times in which you do drive yourself, ya'll are definitely the type of couple to have life 360 on each other. he would text you saying to slow the fuck down if you're speeding.

• no matter how much you insist he goes to sleep and no matter how late you're getting home — it could be 4 in the morning, he will ALWAYS wait up for you.

• he has the habit of buying you anything you even slightly mention. he also pays close attention to the things you look at when out shopping together and they would show up delivered to your apartment the next day. he would take the heat from you, but still would continue to spend his money on you.

• when you have a bad day, he is already there with open arms ready to give you the biggest bear hug and shield you from the rest of the world.

• whenever you two go out together, he always has a hand on your back to guide you through crowds or just so everyone knows that you're off limits.

• if you ever lose during game nights with friends or really anywhere, he would do the penalties for you!

• he always makes sure you're on the inside when walking near a street.

• if you ever doubt yourself or feel insecure, prepare for a long serious conversation with lots of tears because he WILL NOT be having any of that. no. not when he thinks you're one of the most beautiful, talented, and honorable people he knows.

• you have never felt so safe and secure than when he's around.

• he will constantly be saying "i love you." definitely the type to call you back immediately if you forget to say it and hang up.

• he has a personal agenda out for revenge against anyone who hurts or disrespects you in any type of way.

• he will be your designated driver for not only you BUT your friends as well during girl's night out.

• he may be competitive, but when it comes to you, he would let you win just so he can see a smile on your face.

• says he CAN'T (won't because he's stubborn) fall asleep if he's not cuddling you.

• he becomes the softest most kindhearted person in the world when it comes to you.

• he gets jealous easily, but he trusts you with his whole heart so he doesn't dwell on it for too long.

• when it comes to arguing, no matter if he was in the right or wrong, he is always the first to apologize. definitely the type to get you chocolate, flowers, and ALWAYS gets you a teddy bear after.

• would make you sit on his back when doing pushups or would give you a piggy back ride when he is doing pull-ups !

• he LOVES when you wear his clothes. you would always find his shirts or hoodies on your side of the closet and be like "hmm, how did this get here?" ask your boyfriend.

• rarely ever calls you by your name. always calls you baby or something cute. he also insists that you don't call him seungcheol. he will pout if you do.

• definitely impressed your parents right off the bat. your family absolutely adores him and your parents treat him like a son.

• he would tease you by giving you a hug when he's all sweaty after practice.

• he INSISTS on picking you up EVERYDAY after work.

[viiioca]

i love heavensward: a series of bulletin points

your last ally in all the city-states is an elf who would unironically lick the sweat from your armpits in front of the entire congregation. he begs his dad to let you couch surf. one of his brothers admits to your face that he wished you would die

two members of the swiss guard arrest your children so you punch them in the neck until the judge says you're free to go. the pope personally calls you to apologize for the trouble

ilberd tries and fails to hotbox you to death

a hot elf wife takes you on vacation to a nest full of cool bugs

anytime there's a serious moment estinien challenges the tone of the scene by pulling a giant novelty eyeball out of his pants which is played 100% straight every single time. not a single soul questions this or reacts in surprise

the prettiest elf in the world gets arrested trying to yell at his dad

Occupy The Vatican Right Fucking Now!!!!

the pope stances on the deck of an airship and flies away into the sunset after his eunuch traumatizes you

the emperor of garlemald shows up to call you a dipshit, leaves, and then you don't see him personally again for 1.5 expansion packs

we summon a naked catgirl and the first thing tataru does is give her a pair of louboutins and put a bow on her little kitty tail. she is the most deadly serious person in the entire organization

you take a quick detour to visit the angriest woman who's ever lived who calls you and everyone you're with a pointless dumbfuck moron shit idiot (affectionate). then she gives you a gun she invented that sharlayan banned for being too cool

theres a flying allagan war crimes factory full of broken robots who think you're stupid. an entire legion of garleans are abandoned here to form a feral colony with the escaped lab animals. the robots make fun of them

the dad of all the dragons on the whole planet calls you his favorite in front of his real child who he hasnt talked to in 4000 years

an evil wizard tries to get revenge on you for killing his cousin but the pope loads his soul into a bong and takes the fattest rip. the next time you meet him you mostly learn about how much his wife bullied him

estinien picks up a second eyeball. surprise development!: there is an angry dragon ghost living in the eyeballs

thancred gets punched in the face

you watch two dragon brothers fight because one called the other's dead wife a foul and trifling hoe

you save your friend through the power of friendship, and littering. as soon as he feels better he jumps out of a window and doesnt talk to you for two years

the guy from the box art wont stop trying to kill you because he is actually john videogames: astral traveler

after 15 hours of wondering what happened to all the scions and learning just the ones you've been able to FIND were flung into the afterlife, you discover lyse and papalymo are fine. they werent even hurt. they have been playing desert dress up with the ala mhigans while youve been freezing your pussy off trying to end a multigenerational religious war with the dragons and depose a corrupt head of state. they tried to send one letter and then gave up

the consequences of littering catch up with you. in eorzea, the fine is $Giant Dragon

[alwaysthefool]

Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)

Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl

Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you

Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.

Zayne

“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.

“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”

The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.

“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”

“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”

“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.

Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”

You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”

“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.

Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.

Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”

“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”

Rafayel

Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool

You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.

“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.

Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.

“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.

Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.

“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.

You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.

“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”

He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”

You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.

“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”

You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”

Sylus

SUGGESTIVE

This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.

“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.

You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.

You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.

“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”

You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.

“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”

“Shut up…” You mumbled.

“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.

“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.

“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”

Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.

“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”

Xavier

“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.

He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.

“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.

“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.

Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.

“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.

“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”

“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.

Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.

That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.

Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”

Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.

[lov-3-rs]

Let’s be Honest

Simon Riley (Bodyguard) x Reader!!

(mdni 18+)

Your father is an undercover investigator working a dangerous case on a human trafficking ring. Unfortunately, they somehow discovered his intentions, and now they're out for revenge. So, they’ve put a bounty on your head, claiming you’re worth millions to whoever is able to find you and sell you to the best bidder. Despite the danger, your father can’t abandon his mission as there were other lives on the line. He’s too close to cracking the case, rescuing the victims. To protect you, he hired someone no one would see coming for them and that was going to be protecting you. He hired a Ghost.

————————————————————————————

The moment you saw the brute, you couldn’t believe it. This 6’3”, 220lb, constantly masked man was supposed to be by your side for who knows how long. The sheer size of him was intimidating enough, but the mask? It kept you wondering what kind of man was beneath it.

You couldn’t argue with your father, though. He wanted you safe, and you weren’t about to be taken and sold off to some creep. So, you dealt with it. But now it’s been two months too long. Two damn months of constant monitoring, endless rules, and the same warnings: 'You need to listen to me Y/n,' 'Stay by my side,' or ‘It’s not safe.' It was honestly getting sickening at the fact he had complete control over your day to day life now.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I was thinking of going shopping today, get some fresh air,” you say, taking a bite of your breakfast. He stands near the window, eyes scanning the street outside like he always does. “Maybe,” he says, his voice low, almost disinterested. You roll your eyes. “Jesus Christ, why not? It’s just us walking down the street, Simon.”

You started using his real name after weeks of pestering him to tell you. It felt weird calling him “Ghost” all the time—like something out of a video game. What good was being around someone this long if you didn’t even know their name?

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable behind the mask—if there’s an expression at all. Then, just as silently, he turns back to the window. “You never know.” You put your fork down and stop eating, “Simon, I can’t keep going days without stepping foot outside, i’m literally going insane”, he steps away from the window and pulls a chair out to sit beside you. “Everything I do and everything I say is to protect you, that is the whole reason I am here”. you looked into his hauntingly dead eyes. “Please you can’t keep me trapped in these walls”. You say with hesitation in your voice wondering if this will be another useless plea to let him agree for you to get out the house. He paused for a moment before nodding his head in agreement. You smile, “oh my gosh really? we can go?!” you say quickly standing from your chair in excitement. “yes. but the moment I feel something is off we leave, immediately” he says sternly. You were already putting your plate away and running to your room to get ready.

You visited a few of your favorite stores near your house, picking up small items here and there. Simon stayed close, as usual, walking silently beside you. As you stepped out of another shop, he leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We’re going to one more store, then we’re heading home. Do you understand?” You shot him a side-eye but nodded, not in the mood for another argument.

The last stop was the lingerie shop—you had been eyeing their new fall line for weeks. You grabbed a few panties and bras before something else caught your eye: the most stunning, sexy set you’d ever seen. You had to try it on. Walking into the dressing room, you slipped out of your clothes and into the delicate lace set. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin. You peeked your head out, only seeing Simon waiting, his posture as stoic as ever. You stepped out to check yourself in the mirror, admiring the way the set hugged your curves. From the corner of his eye, Simon caught sight of you. His jaw clenched almost immediately as he tried to keep his focus elsewhere, but it was impossible. He’d been around you every day for two months, and he had seen plenty—your tight shirts with no bra, shorts that barely covered anything. He’d always kept his cool, reminding himself that you were off-limits, and he took care of himself whenever you were asleep or when he took a shower. But seeing you now, in something so revealing, stirred something deeper in him that made his jeans tighten. He forced himself to remain still, but the tension in his body betrayed his thoughts. Respect for your father, the job—those were the only things keeping him from acting on what he felt. And he had to keep it that way, or at least he was trying to.

You caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. His eyes were unreadable behind the mask, but you could feel something he wasn’t saying. You quickly looked away, clearing your throat. “What do you think?” you asked casually, but your pulse quickened. You didn’t know why you even asked—it wasn’t like you cared what he thought about lingerie. Or did you?

He blinked, caught off guard. “About what?”

“The lingerie,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I thought I’d get a professional opinion.” His jaw tightened more, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. “You don’t need my opinion.” You stepped a little closer, testing his boundaries. “Maybe I do.” He stayed still, but you could see the tension in his stance. His voice, when he spoke, was low. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” You laughed lightly. “What? Shopping?” His eyes met yours, and for a second, there was nothing but silence between you. “No,” he said softly, almost reluctantly. “This.” The weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, neither of you moved. His response was a beat too slow. “You should hurry up,” he muttered, his voice deeper than usual. You rolled your eyes, but his tone made your skin tingle. There was something about the way he held himself that made you wonder—did he see you the way you were starting to see him? You slipped back into the dressing room to change, but the tension lingered, thick in the air. When you came out, dressed again, Simon stood up immediately, his shoulders tense. “Let’s go.” The rest of the walk home was quiet, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted.

You walked into the house, setting your bags down and slipping off your shoes. Simon followed closely behind, immediately locking the door and heading to the windows like he always did, scanning the outside for any sign of danger. But your mind was elsewhere, replaying that one word—this—over and over again.

What did ‘it’ mean? You had to know.

“Simon,” you called out softly, still unable to meet his eyes. “What did you mean earlier?” He stiffened immediately, turning to face you. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he’d been hoping you would let it go. He didn’t mean to let that word slip out, and now he was trying to think of a way around it. “What do you mean?” His tone was even, but there was a slight edge to it, a hint of tension. You swallowed, gathering your courage. “You said I was making this hard. I’m not sure what that means… I want you to tell me.” Finally, you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was fighting with himself. His silence hung in the air, thick and heavy, as though he was weighing whether or not to tell you the truth. He turned back to the window, staring outside as if it would give him the answer he needed. “You’re making my job harder,” he said after a long pause, but there was something in his voice—a hesitation. But you had a smirk on your face knowing exactly what it was, “it was the set wasn’t it?” there was a pause, “you thought I looked good, too good right?” you stepped closer to him testing his limits wanting more reaction out of him. “I think you should keep this fantasy shit to yourself” he said quickly snapping back at you, but you kept pushing, “I don’t blame you Simon, I bet it’s been months since you got laid and I won’t lie it’s been a hot minute for me too with you being around me all the time, having me cooped in this house” you can see his brows furrowing. “you’re crossing the god damn line” that’s what he was saying but the raging boner in his pants said completely different about your attitude.

Before you knew it, he was stepping toward you, his hand gripping your arm firmly. “You’re pushing me too far,” he said, his voice low and rough. You met his gaze, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. “Maybe I need you to push back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment was charged, and without warning, one of his hands let go from your arm to lift up his mask above his nose exposing his lips. your eyes widen never seeing anything but his eyes for the last few months. Before you knew it his lips were on yours, It was intense and consuming, leaving both of you breathless and more entangled than before.

He picked you up and put you on the dining table. the kiss became more passionate with his hands tangled in your hair, you could feel your core throb waiting to be touched. Simon pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, “you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to touch you” he says breathing heavily. “all those times you walked around with no bra and I could see your fucking nipples through your shirt and the times you walked around with your ass out, god I wanted to bend you over, i’d fuck you right there and don’t even forget about the times I could here you moaning in the shower doing god knows what to that pussy, ya fuckin minx” your cunt was practically dripping at his words, your breathing became more heavier, “Then do it Simon, bend me over and fuck me” before you could say anymore he already was turning you over on the counter and pulling your pants down. “already planning on it love”. Simon pulled your pants down then slowly pulled your panties down revealing your wet pussy. he bent down to get eye level with it bring his fingers up to your folds and playing with your clit. You moaned at his touched, “fuh-fuck”. Simon pulled his fingers away and replaced it with his tongue, licking your throbbing clit and making you squirm.

He ate you out till you came on his mouth, “Si please”. Simon got up and looked at your bent over form while he started unbuckling his pants, “please what love?” he already knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. “fuck me hard” he smiled at your words taking his hard cock in his hand rubbing his pre cum all over the top of his head giving it extra lubricant. He aligned his cocked to your hole and slammed into you making you jump, “Shhhhhhhit” you hiss out the word from the painful pleasure. He started to thrust in and out of you hearing your moans made him want to cum already but he couldn’t, it felt too damn good to stop now. Simon bent down to your ear, “All those fuckin times you were playing with this tight cunt in the shower, who were you thinkin about huh?”. You didn’t want to answer out of embarrassment but you did it anyways, “y-you si, I thought about sucking your cock and you cumming all over my tits” that snapped something in him when you said that, his pace picked up he started fucking you harder, his balls slapping against your clit. “what would ya daddy think of the man he hired to protect you fucking your pussy raw?”. You could feel your self about to cum, “Si I’m gonna cum on your cock” his thrust became sloppier feeling himself about to finish too, “cum baby, cum”. Simon thrusted harder into your cunt making your back arch more and your ass jiggle against his hips the sight was pushing him over the edge, “god damn baby i’m gonna to cum” his hands gripped into your hips harder. “Simon cum inside me god please”. He busted a load in you, pushing his cock feel in you making sure nothing came out, “fuckin hell”.

After the intensity of the moment subsided, Simon and you lay there in the aftermath, the room now quiet except for your shared breathing. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “I didn’t plan for this,” Simon said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and affection. “I never wanted to cross that line.” You turned to face him, your own emotions swirling. “Neither did I, but… it felt right in the moment. I just want to know what this means for us.” Simon looked at you with a conflicted expression. “I don’t have all the answers. This situation is complicated, and I’m still trying to figure out how to balance my feelings with my responsibilities.” he says lowly “I understand,” you replied, taking his hand in yours. “I just need to know where we stand. Do you want to try and make this work, or is this something we need to move past?” There was a pause as Simon considered his words. “I care about you more than I should,” he admitted. “But I also need to focus on keeping you safe. We’ll have to navigate this carefully.” You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said, squeezing his hand.

“As long as we’re honest with each other.”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

w.c › 16k

warnings › Part 2 for this post. Ye-Jun is insane. This relationship is pure toxicity, pls don’t stay with someone like this in real life lol. Translations/songs I used at the end. Homophobia/talk of revenge porn of a minor at the end (it’s not done by Ye-Jun)

plot › Kim Ye-Jun is back in your life. And he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving you anytime soon. While you get insight on how brutal fame can be

kinks › size difference, hate sex, oral sex, manhandling, marking, biting, choking, dubcon, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, sub/dom undertones

words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Knets — Korean Netizens, Korean people on the internet. Dispatch — a Korean blog, known for exposing kpop idols relationships

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮

𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

You had left Ye-Jun that night.

It was nerve wracking to get dressed silently as you watched him like a hawk. Your heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure why you were so fearful. But you managed to leave as quiet as a mouse.

You practically sprinted out of the hotel room as the sun was just rising. Your legs carrying you to the bus before you were driven back to the outskirts of Seoul.

Your feet dragged along the ground as you finally reached your apartment building, wanting to collapse onto your bed for the rest of the day.

“Hyung…!”

You froze, finger pressed against the touch pad. The numbers illuminated as they waited for you to press in the passcode. What?

The time was only 8 am. Dohyun was serious about you not coming over until 10 am. Shit, did they really fuck all night?

Another high pitched moan escaped the apartment as you couldn’t help but smirk. Young-Jae was the youngest out of him and Dohyun. So that meant the one screaming had to be him.

It was funny. Young-Jae the strict top that wouldn’t let you even ask if you could top when you were both fuck buddies. You couldn’t even touch or squeeze his ass. The thought of him bottoming wasn’t anything you even imagined.

Dohyun was more muscular than him. Though Young-Jae was taller and had been growing some muscular these past few months.

You knew not every top had to be tall and muscular. But you couldn’t imagine Dohyun bottoming despite his nicer attitude. But Young-Jae hated the thought of bottoming.

An oddly detailed thought of Dohyun and Young-Jae fighting filled your mind. The idea of them fighting for dominance before Dohyun forced Young-Jae to submit was sexy. You giggled to yourself at the thought before a whine from the apartment interrupted you.

A sane person would’ve just left and come back.

But you weren’t exactly sane.

Besides, everyone in the band has seen each other naked once. You’ve unfortunately seen Won-Shik’s bare ass more times than you count. You would just act shocked and pretend you forgot all about Dohyun’s text from last night.

You typed the passcode onto the touch pad. The familiar hum of the lock twisting before you pushed the door open.

“I’m—!”

Your jaw dropped at what you saw on the couch.

Lee Young-Jae was a strict top. Because he had Park Dohyun bouncing on his cock.

Park Dohyun was the one moaning “Hyung”?! Was that a kink?! An older man calling the younger man “Hyung” during sex seemed so odd but also oddly sexy. You could only stare for a moment, trying to process what you were seeing right in front of you.

It was hot too so you were enjoying the sight of Dohyun’s ass. Shit, it was fat.

“Cho (Name)! Get out!” Young-Jae suddenly yelled, grabbing a couch pillow and throwing it over at you.

You shrieked, managing to dodge. Your eyes went back to Dohyun and Young-Jae. Young-Jae looked mostly smug as he tightened his grip on Dohyun’s waist. Dohyun seemed out of it for the most part, his eyes glossy as he buried his face in Young-Jae’s neck.

“Okay! Okay… I’m leaving. You better be finished by 10 am!!! Dohyun Hyungie promised I can come back by then.. also you better deep clean the house, pervert.”

Young-Jae ignored you, absentmindedly pointing to the front door. You rolled your eyes and left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind you.

You went to the apartment right next door, Dohyun, Yuki, and Won-Shik’s apartment, and punched in the code.

Curses were at the tip of your tongue as you walked inside. You got ready to announce your arrival when you noticed Yuki on the couch. He looked nervous, a shy smile on his lips. Your eyes trailed down and a groan left your throat.

Junho was giving Yuki a hand job.

“All of you are perverts!!! Oh my god!! How can you feel safe to do it on the couch?! Perverts!! I’m going to Won-Shik’s room, because at least he has the decency to rent a hotel room when he wants to fuck someone!!!”

You stormed off to Won-Shik’s room while Junho called your name. Yuki bit his lip as he tried hold in his laugh. The door slammed shut right behind you as you laid down on Won-Shik’s bed.

Perverts!

Junho frowned at the sight of you. He had been worried about you all night. Wanting to check on you, he moved to get up when a hand tightened itself on his hair. He winced and glanced up to see a grin on Yuki’s lips.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to stop, Junnie. (Name) can be alone for a few more minutes.”

For fucks sakes.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Where’s your boyfriend, Ye-Jun? Did he leave you again?”

“Shut the fuck up, Minji.”

Ye-Jun plopped down onto the couch in the recording studio, sending a glare to Minji who was cackling beside him. The band was recording for an upcoming single. Ye-Jun was late by an hour and had unfortunately woken up to the feeling of an empty bed.

You really knew how to piss him off.

“Don’t bully him, Minji. Ye-Jun has a sensitive heart.” Shion said, stepping out of the recording booth. “He’ll go crazy if you remind him his boytoy left him like a one night stand.”

Manager Riwoo sighed. “Can you boys not talk about that type of stuff during recording? You’re not the only ones in here.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking ready to retire at the ripe age of 30.

Shion shrugged. “It’s just you and the composer. Everyone knows by now how much Ye-Jun has an unhealthy obsession with Cho (Name).”

“It’s not unhealthy.” Ye-Jun muttered.

Minji released another cackle at Ye-Jun’s audacity as he walked into the recording booth to record his lines. His laughter could still be heard despite the padded room. Manager Riwoo shook his head and turned his attention over to Minji and the composer.

The couch dipped as Shion plopped down beside Ye-Jun, resting his arm on the others shoulder. Shion was the eldest of the band but had passed on leadership onto Ye-Jun. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put Ye-Jun into check whenever he deemed necessary.

Like now.

“I don’t care if Cho (Name) has the tightest ass you’ve ever fucked. You better keep yourself contained in public.” Shion whispered, leaning in close so only Ye-Jun could hear.

“Those Knets are sharks, waiting for the slight hint of controversy. Control yourself. Be unhinged in private. Don’t pull a stunt like that at the music show again, okay?”

Ye-Jun rolled his eyes. “Should I stop commenting on his posts?”

“I would like that but you have a limit on how much you listen to your hyung, don’t you?”

A smirk pulled on Ye-Jun’s lips as he tilted his head. Shion looked unimpressed as he sighed.

“Just start liking all of their posts. Knets only like the thought of you possibly being gay. The chance that you are actually gay will be a death sentence.” Shion tapped Ye-Jun’s shoulder before standing up, grabbing his baseball cap to put on.

“I’m heading out, Riwoo Hyung.”

The door closed behind Shion as Ye-Jun watched him leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t take Shion’s words to heart. He knew he was right. Fans only liked the thought of an idol being gay. Him being a band member wouldn’t mean much when many kpop idol fans merge with regular kband fans.

They were rapid and insane either way. Ye-Jun knew he tested his luck that day when he kissed you on stage.

Even though he wanted you—he did love his job.

He sighed. He’d get a headache if he continued to think about this any longer. He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

There was something more important right now.

The fact you thought you could leave him without saying goodbye.

Again.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I really am the only straight man here.” Won-Shik moaned, resting his face in his hands as he silently cried to himself. You patted him on back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to comfort him.

Young-Jae still looked smug. “Lighten up, Hyung! Maybe you’ll find a man you wanna fuck and become gay!”

Won-Shik looked over at Young-Jae with a shocked face. “Don’t even say that… I can never abandon the touch of a woman! I’ll be a fool to trade that in for a man’s disgusting hands.”

“Bisexuality exists. Anyway, Jae-Ah, don’t say that. It’s wrong to force a sexuality onto someone.” Dohyun said, shaking his head.

The band was in your apartment, having a movie night. Well, as much as you guys could anyway. It seemed no one was paying enough attention to even pick out a movie on Netflix.

It had been over a week or so since you had sex with Ye-Jun and he hadn’t texted you. You thought maybe he had gotten some sense and left you alone.

Until Roha had texted you yesterday that Ye-Jun’s phone got destroyed—how? You don’t know—and that he’d be getting a new phone in a few days.

You were already dreading the day.

The band had gotten back to normal relatively quickly. Except Young-Jae seemed to think he was hot shit now. Though you knew why. Young-Jae had pined over Dohyun for over four years.

You’d allow him the month to be a dick and then knock some sense into him after.

Yuki walked over two pizza boxes, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. Junho was right behind him, holding some blankets.

“Junho Hyung, there’s some white stuff on your lips.” Young-Jae suddenly said.

Junho gasped, dropping the blankets as he quickly wiped at his mouth. Young-Jae and Won-Shik immediately bust out laughing while Dohyun sighed in disappointment at their childish behavior.

“Did you suck Yuki’s dick earlier?!” Won-Shik managed to say despite his laughing.

“I hate you guys.” Junho sighed, bending down to pick up the blankets. He walked over and dropped the blankets on Young-Jae’s head, earning a strangled grunt from the weight of them.

Yuki seemed unbothered by their teasing as he sat down beside you on the couch. He gave you a paper plate and took out two pizza slices for you. You thanked him and began eating, humming in delight.

“How are you and Kim Ye-Jun? Did you guys talk it out?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Mhm… he talked at me. I found out about how he thinks.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “He called me pathetic but that’s why he wants me.”

“Ah, we have something in common.”

You froze mid bite, looking over at Yuki with a raised eyebrow. Yuki only gave you a wide grin.

“I find Junho pathetic. It’s why I like him.”

“Ah.” Your voice muffled by the pizza as you tried to ignore Yuki’s sudden confession. You knew Yuki could be a bit odd to anyone that wasn’t you. The thought that it would affect Junho made you feel a bit nervous. But you knew Junho would rather jump off a bridge than ever tell you about his relationship with Yuki.

He was the one that was trying to hide it anyway. Yuki was an open book. You could ask him if he masturbated today and he’d answer honestly.

Was his relationship with Yuki similar to yours with Ye-Jun?

Well, Yuki still had morals and didn’t seem to bad mouth Junho so maybe not totally similar.

You remembered the time your band was on a variety show during your debut. The host had called Junho an idiot with only his muscles being the good thing about him. It was a joke, the host was known for making off putting jokes.

Manager Nayoung had drilled that in you guys before the filming.

That didn’t matter to Yuki though. He had cussed out the host. Having to switch to Japanese when he felt that he couldn’t properly speak his feelings in Korean.

Anyway that episode was heavily edited and your band wasn’t invited to that show again. It was for the best. You were pretty sure Yuki’s rant in Japanese would make the Yakuza whimper.

“What do you like about Junho? Is it just that he makes you feel good?” You suddenly asked.

It had slipped out. You didn’t want to ask this with the other members right within ear shot as they began to fight over if they should watch a romcom or horror movie. But you couldn’t help it.

Ye-Jun’s words bothered you.

Yuki hummed. “No. I like his smile. I like how he puts everyone above himself. He’s very motherly. He has dumb jokes but is also shy about sharing his feelings. While he does take care of me, I like taking care of him even when he tries to fight it. He’s just pure. So pure that I want to ruin him. I love him.”

You frowned. What the hell? Why couldn’t Ye-Jun talk about you like this? To hear Yuki talk about Junho like this almost made you want to cry.

He felt so… loved? Does Ye-Jun even love you?

Has he ever told you that he loved you?

The revelation at the thought made you feel bitter so you quickly tried to push it away. You looked over at Yuki and smirked.

“So you top Junnie Hyung?”

“Mhm, yeah.” Yuki said, unabashedly.

“Is it easy? He’s larger than you even though you’re both the same height.”

“He can be pliant. Those muscles are just for show anyway. But I like that he’s bigger than me. Makes it more fun to have him beneath me.”

“Can you both not talk about my sex life like I’m not here?” Junho suddenly said, sitting down beside Yuki. You blushed, muttering an apology to Junho.

“Sorry, Junnie Hyung. I was just curious. I mean, when we had sex you topped me. I wanted to know if you act similar to when you bottom.”

Yuki hummed. “How did he act when he topped?”

“A gentle giant!” You gleamed. “Junnie Hyung didn’t even orgasm that night. He focus solely on me. I felt bad after but he wouldn’t let me take care of him after.”

“Seriously, guys.” Junho muttered, a slight blush on his face. “This is really embarrassing. Can we just watch the movie?”

“Course, my service top.” Yuki said, snickering as Junho looked away with a grimace.

“What’s a service top?” Won-Shik suddenly asked as he sat down on your left.

“Straight people don’t have service tops?” You pursed your lips in confusion.

“Don’t tell him, (Name)! Only tell him when he fucks his first man.” Young-Jae giggled, wincing when Dohyun pinched him on the neck.

Won-Shik glared at Young-Jae and simply grabbed two slices of pizza. The movie began to play after that. It looked like team horror movie won as I saw the Devil began to play.

You mindlessly ate your pizza before a suddenly thought pierced your brain. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That night you had lied to Ye-Jun about who you slept with. While you were fuck buddies with Young-Jae during your first year as a trainee. You had fucked two other men after him.

Yang Junho. You didn’t want to tell Ye-Jun the truth that night because of how much he seemed to hate him. Deep down you knew Ye-Jun would never hurt you—physically—but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared of what he’d do to Junho.

You hoped to god that Ye-Jun never figured that out.

It was someone else that you worried about Ye-Jun finding out about.

Song Noeul.

At first when you thought about it, Ye-Jun probably wouldn’t have known who he was. Until when you were going on Ye-Jun’s Instagram—you were bored—that you saw Noeul in one of his pictures.

Noeul was first a trainee to be an idol before shifting to be an actor instead. And lucky for you, Noeul was in one of the dramas Black Rose made an OST for.

To make matters worse, Song Noeul looked like a friend to Kim Ye-Jun.

And you didn’t want to know what would happen if Ye-Jun learned that his “friend” fucked you a few years ago.

Yeah, you didn’t want anything bad to happen to Noeul. Or worse you, for lying about Junho.

Of course, luck was never known to be on your side, was it?

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞

It had been a month or so and you had luck on your side. Ye-Jun was too preoccupied with Black Rose’s promotion for their OST to bother you. You practically danced around when he had texted you that he wouldn’t be able to visit you for the next few weeks.

Of course that didn’t stop him from commenting on your posts. He had started to like the other guys posts but still only commented on yours.

Wasn’t too shocking. You and Yuki still were the only ones that posted religiously. Dohyun was a close second.

You were enjoying the two month break the company had given you guys. So of course Yuki took that time to go to back home to Japan, but his parents were nice enough to invite the band to stay two weeks at their home.

So here you were—enjoying Kyoto, Japan. Yuki’s parents were richer than you had imagined but you wouldn’t complain.

You were outside in the parents garden when you decided to take a selfie with the sunset in the background. You kept the caption short and sweet: 잘 자 💤!

@BRseo_minji commented : @BRkim_yejun, your Cho (Name) is saying good night to other men ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

A frown pulled on your lips. Right. The other Black Rose members also started to bother you. Just your luck.

@BRpark_shion responded : get off your phone and pay attention to the interview please

@BRim_roha commented : when do you come back, (Name)-Ah? I want to see you

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : you have a death wish, Roha Hyung??? Ye-Jun Hyung is gonna kill you ㅎㅎㅎ

@BRkim_yejun commented : your smile killed me ㅠㅠ the sunset doesn’t compare to your beauty

@BRpark_shion responded : can you have a little shame?

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : this isn’t you hyung…

@BRim_roha responded : if only you could put this poetic shit into our lyrics…

@BRseo_minji responded : fa—

“Fa—?” You muttered, wondering what Minji could’ve meant. It took a moment before a certain slur popped up in your mind. A smile threatened to leave your lips. That’s not right. You couldn’t laugh, you shouldn’t laugh.

You decided to read the other comments on your post. Mainly fans saying how cute you were. A few commenting on how cool it was that Black Rose was so close to Love Countdown. Some even saying they wanted a future collab. Like hell you’d want that.

Just as you were about to walk inside, your phone began to ring. You groaned at the caller ID.

Kim Ye-Jun.

You wanted to let it ring but another part of you missed his voice. So you reluctantly answered. The sound of bustling laughter and hushed voices escaped your phone as you could make out Roha saying something before it drowned out. A door slammed shut before it was quiet.

“Jagiya?”

Your stomach did an involuntary flip as you bit your lip. “Y..Yes, Kim Ye-Jun?”

“Kim Ye-Jun? It’s Junnie Hyung.” Ye-Jun answered. “What are you doing?”

“You lost the privilege for me to call you that.” You said bluntly, feeling a bit brave that he couldn’t see you. “I’m just checking out Yuki Hyung’s garden back in Kyoto.”

“Is it just you and him alone?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, everyone in the band came to visit. I don’t know why you’re so possessive, Kim Ye-Jun. I’m not yours.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I wanted to apologize about something.”

Your body froze as your breathing hitched. Apologize? Was he going to apologize for what he did? Was he—

“Sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you. I broke my phone when I threw it at Minji a few weeks ago but when I got a new phone I still couldn’t check on you because we had to promote our single for the drama. It’s a romcom I think.”

“Oh.” You tried to hide the disappointment. “Wait, you threw your phone at Seo Minji? What the hell?”

“Yeah. He was talking shit so I made him shut his mouth. But I missed anyway—he’s too fast.”

“But why your phone?”

“It was the only thing in my hand. I would’ve thrown the weights nearby but I wanted something easier to throw.”

“Uhm. You’re talking pretty lightly about attempted murder.”

“I didn’t want him to die. It didn’t even hit him. Anyway, have you been eating?”

You hummed. “Yeah. Uhm. Kim Ye-Jun, do you… like me or something? Why are you still after me when it’s been five years? It didn’t seem like you liked me all that much back then.”

“Like you? I guess I do. You’re my wallpaper on my phone. I look back at our photos back in university.”

“You didn’t delete them…?”

“Why would I? I look bad in them but you look pretty. You always look pretty. Did you delete yours?”

“Ah. Yeah… I did. I didn’t recover them.”

“Oh. Well I’ll just send what I have over to you. You should also put our picture as your wallpaper, shows your taken.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Taken? Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, you’re really funny. Do I not get a choice in being your fuck buddy again?”

“Fuck buddy? No, you’re mine. You don’t get a choice. You never did.”

A sense of dread creeped up your spine as you stood still, taking in his words. Was.. was he serious?

“(Name), Junho Hyung is calling for you.” A voice startled you as you looked back to see Young-Jae walking over to you.

Young-Jae frowned at the look on your face as he glanced at your phone. He mouthed: who’s that?

“Yang Junho? He’s there?”

You almost talked back to him. Of fucking course Junho was there. It was originally supposed to be a couple trip for Junho and Yuki anyway until his parents told him to invite the rest of you. That’s why Junho and Yuki was staying the month while you all were staying the two weeks.

“Kim Ye-Jun?” Young-Jae suddenly said out loud, causing your eyes to widen. He shook his hand and reached out to grab your phone despite your protests. “Yah, Kim Ye-Jun, bother him when he’s back in Seoul. Leave him alone when he’s on vacation.” He hung up right after that.

“Shit. Man, that Kim Ye-Jun is getting on my nerves. He’s so clingy. How do you put up with him?”

You shrugged. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“I heard he hates Junho Hyung, why? Does he know that you guys fucked? Wait, does he know that we fucked?” Young-Jae asked, his eyes widening.

“I did tell him about us but he didn’t seem to view you as a threat… Maybe he noticed you like Dohyun Hyung. But I.. I lied about my relationship with Junho Hyung. I was just a bit scared.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of someone. That’s not normal. Do you want to report him or something?”

You sighed. “I’m not sure. What can I realistically report for him? I don’t refuse him when he calls. Yeah I told him to go away but I always end up going back to him.”

“Hm.” Young-Jae sighed, shaking his head. “You need to grow a backbone, (Name)-Ah. Or at the very least, show him that you will have an equal standing in this relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“He pulls all the punches. If you can’t find it yourself to leave this toxic swamp you’re swimming in, become as equally as toxic. Punch him back.”

“Toxic swamp? Wasn’t that a lyric in our song?”

“Shut up and take my advice.”

“Alright, Alright. I’ll punch him back.”

Young-Jae rolled his eyes before walking back into the house. You followed close behind. Yuki was on the couch with an irritated Junho. Junho looked to be trying to leave but Yuki had his arms wrapped around his waist.

“You called me, Junnie Hyung?” You asked, walking over to them.

“(Name)-Ah,” Junho smiled up at you as he continued trying to pull at Yuki’s tight grip. “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You looked a bit scared on the phone.”

“You could see me?”

Yuki hummed. “Junho was watching you before I pulled him onto the couch.”

“Wow, you’re like my mom, Junnie Hyung.”

“A mom that fucked you.”

“Yuki Hyung!” Junho swore, glaring at Yuki who could only laugh. He tugged Junho closer and burrowed his face in his muscular back.

“Who were you talking to, (Name)-Ah? Kim Ye-Jun?” Yuki asked.

“Mhm. He was apologizing for not talking to me often.” You muttered.

“But not for allowing his friends to call you a slut?” Junho rolled his eyes, giving up on his attempt to break free from Yuki’s grip.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “He’d never apologize for that. Not unless I force him to. But then it wouldn’t be satisfying.”

“Who’s Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik walked over to you guys, eating an onigiri. “Why do I never know what you guys are talking about?”

“Because you’re straight.” Young-Jae yelled from the kitchen.

“Shut the fuck up, Lee Young-Jae!”

“Kim Ye-Jun from Black Rose.” Dohyun said, walking over with a plate filled with onigiri that he placed on the coffee table in front of the couch. “He’s been bothering (Name).”

“Our maknae?” Won-Shik’s expression stilled as he glanced over at you. “Should I kill him?”

“No—!”

“—yes!”

You stared over at Junho in shock. Junho gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll make sure I’m Won-Shik’s alibi so we don’t have to continue on as five.”

“You can’t kill him yet.” Was all Dohyun said as the leader, sitting down on the couch. You expected him to oppose such a thing but it seemed he also hated Ye-Jun.

Shit. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at how much your band mates loved you.

You thought back to Young-Jae’s advice. Punch him back. The thought seemed silly because what could you do that would hurt Kim Ye-Jun?

Then you remembered Song Noeul.

You knew what would drive him insane.

You just had to have the guts to pull through with it.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

The two month break flew by fast and it was already May. For the groups comeback, your company decided on a happy and love filled single that felt like running through a field of flowers with your lover.

“Don’t you think these lyrics are a bit too sad, (Name)-Ah?” Dohyun looked over at you. You had given him your journal with lyrics you had written to share for the upcoming single.

“Is it? That’s what I was thinking when the company gave us the theme.” You scooted the rolling chair over to Dohyun. The both of you were in a composing room. Won-Shik and Yuki had already made the melody and recorded a small demo.

You and Dohyun were the ones that usually made the lyrics. Junho and Young-Jae occasionally wrote lyrics for your more angsty or depressing songs.

Your lyrics would always be sappy and happy—sometimes a bit cringy so Dohyun usually had to tweak them a bit.

“Yeah.” Dohyun muttered, looking back down at your journal. “These are a bit sad.”

How deep is your love?

묻고 싶��요

I want to ask

더 깊진 않더라도

Even if it can't be deeper

같을 순 없을까요?

Can't it be the same as mine?

“Oh.” You muttered, reading over the lyrics you wrote. Dohyun was right, this didn’t scream happy love. Your lips pursed into a frown as you flipped to the next page of lyrics you had written in accordance to the demo.

모르길 바라요

I hope you don't know

이런 내 마음을

These feelings

사랑하고 있어도

Even when I'm in love

혼자인 것만 같아

I feel alone.

“Uhm. Why don’t we just use your lyrics. I don’t think we can use these.” You slammed your journal shut and pulled it away from Dohyun, shoving it back into your backpack.

“Are you okay, (Name)-Ah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The rest of the session was awkward to say the least. Dohyun seemed fidgety as if he wanted to talk to you but also didn’t want to scare you away.

You appreciated your hyung but you also didn’t want to admit that Kim Ye-Jun had such an effect on you after all these years.

What did you even like about him?

What was he to you?

“Y’know,” Dohyun suddenly whispered. “For the Love’s Fool album, the lyrics I put in there were about Jae.”

You froze, looking over at Dohyun in shock. “Huh? Really?”

“Mhm. The third song in the album is basically about Jae. Purely about the guilt I felt for falling in love with him. Seeing him as something more than my dongsaeng.”

“The third song.. But that’s the only upbeat song on the album.”

“I know. We can still use your lyrics even if they’re sad. But I mainly wanted to tell you that you don’t have to feel embarrassed about writing lyrics on Kim Ye-Jun. Junho’s songs are mostly about past relationships anyway.”

“Junho Hyung had past relationships?”

Dohyun grinned. “Your Junho hyung was a little too outgoing back during our trainee days. Though he’d never tell you.”

It was silent for a moment as you watched Dohyun begin to add a few of your lyrics into his own, mixing them around to have a perfect flow and rhythm that matched the composition.

After a moment or so, you decided to try and forget all about your problems by being a menace.

“Hyungie, remember when I caught you and Jae Hyung fucking? Why did you look so out of it? If I didn’t know Jae Hyung, I would’ve been worried that he was taking advantage of you.”

Dohyun blushed, his pen dragging against the paper as he began to stutter. It took a moment before he could even say anything.

“Sub.. Sub space. I was in sub space. That’s all.”

“Sub space? What’s that?”

“It’s just a mental feeling a submissive can get into during sex. I was a bit scared being in it, I’ve never experienced it before. But it’s not dangerous. Jae knew how to take care of me.”

“Not fair… I’ve never experienced that!” You whined, pouting your lips. “Does it feel good?”

“I guess. It makes me feel safe now.”

You thought back to the sex you’ve had these past few years. The feeling that Dohyun had described and the one you had seen with your own eyes seemed foreign. There were a few times you felt tired after sex… but that’s normal.

Dohyun had looked completely out of it—like he was on another planet. You’ve never had that feeling.

Was it because Dohyun trusted Young-Jae?

A few hours later you and Dohyun left the company building. Dohyun went his separate way—having a dinner with his parents for his dad’s birthday.

You absentmindedly hummed to yourself as you pulled out your phone. Who could you bother for the night? Your finger swiped across the screen as you scrolled through your contacts.

The scroll stopped right on Roha’s number. He did say to contact him whenever you were back.

Despite being Ye-Jun’s friend, you liked Roha separately from him. You could be Roha’s friend without Ye-Jun’s permission! You were a grown adult. So, you called Roha and hoped he was free for some tteokbokki.

“Why did you want me to lie to Ye-Jun?”

Roha asked, a smug expression on his face as he took a sip of his beer. You grinned sheepishly as you poked at your salad. The two of you were at a small tteokbokki restaurant that you used to visit here often back in your uni days.

“You don’t have to tell Ye-Jun everything. Are you his child?” You set on asking, eyeing Roha nervously.

“No,” Roha shrugged. “Your relationship to me is separate from Ye-Jun. I never told him the things you told me.”

You perked up at that. “Really..? That means…?”

“No, he doesn’t know that you’ve played the violin since you were in diapers. He never asked so I never told him. If he likes you, he’d want to learn things about you.”

“Wow. How are you and Ye-Jun even friends? You seem so different?”

“If I haven’t met Ye-Jun back in elementary school I wouldn’t be friends with him.” Roha answered, shoving a tteokbokki in his mouth. “Not everyone can handle him… But you seem to be able to.”

“I don’t know about that.” You muttered.

“You haven’t reported him or anything. Or filed a complaint. Or done anything to get him to truly back off.”

“Yeah… But…”

“It’s okay, (Name). The heart is confusing.” Roha looked up at you. “Are you going to let him continue to have total control over the relationship? Back in university you used to dog walk him with ease.”

“I did?” You questioned, tilting your head in confusion. “How…?”

“You technically didn’t do much. You acted like yourself. Because in the end—Kim Ye-Jun can’t handle you being angry at him.”

“Hm. Well it doesn’t even feel like he likes me. Just that he feels like he owns me.”

“That’s probably how he thinks. Ye-Jun isn’t good with expressing himself. He doesn’t write lyrics for our romantic songs. He’s always had this tendency to think he owns people that he loves.”

“Does he think he owns you?”

“He used to. Until I socked him in the face when he tried to forbid me from doing something.” Roha smirked. “Then he learned he had a limit on how much he could “try” to control me.”

“Does he think he owns the other band members?”

“Course. His family is odd, I think that’s where he got that idea. His older brother acts the same way. Even their mother.”

You froze at the mention of Ye-Jun’s family. He never spoke to you about them. Though you couldn’t get too mad about that. It was the same for you never mentioning your parents.

“Does his…—?”

“—family know you? Yeah. He always sent pictures of you to them. You just never met them because they live in Jeju. If they didn’t, you would’ve been met them.”

“Oh. Wait you’re from Jeju Island?”

“Yeah. Did I never tell you? Ah, anyway. Was there something you wanted to ask about Ye-Jun? Or did you really want to hang out with me?”

You pouted. “I did want to hang out with you…”

Roha raised an eyebrow.

“…Both. I did have a question about Ye-Jun. Is he close to Song Noeul?”

“Song Noeul? The actor? Yeah they got close when we made the OST for the drama he was in. Now I get to ask a question in return.”

You watched as Roha pulled out his phone and began scrolling to find a picture. Your breathing hitched at the picture he showed you.

It was a picture of you and Noeul. When you were younger, maybe two years ago? Noeul had his arms around your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your noses were touching and it looked like you were mid laugh.

No one could try to spin that picture as anything but couple like.

“How’d you…?”

Roha frowned, turning his phone off. “I got it from someone anonymous. I thought it was photoshopped but it’s real. I haven’t shown anyone.”

“Did you ask for it?”

“No way. I wouldn’t try to sabotage you or Song Noeul’s career. I’m just telling you because I think someone is trying to dim Song Noeul’s career and you’re unfortunately about to be hit in the cross fire.”

You frowned, trying to take in the information.

“They also sent stuff about me. Just pictures of me smoking. That’s about it. I’m not sure who it could be. Maybe an ex lover of Song Noeul.”

“Ex lover?”

“He could’ve left his old lover when he started to get famous. The lover got jealous and wants to bring him down. Seems the only dirt they can get on him is that he dated a man.”

“Why don’t they use pictures of him with them if they dated?”

“They don’t want to get found out. Especially if they could be a man themselves. Anyway, I’m just telling you to be careful. They could be following you to see if you interact with Song Noeul again.”

The rest of the dinner felt heavy as you thought about Roha’s warning. Fuck, forget all about the plan with making Ye-Jun angry. You could be outed by some jealous ex lover!

You got home feeling heavy and scared. Sure, Korea was getting progressive these days. But all you could think about was the korean host who came out as gay and got black listed for years!

Straight kpop idols get taken from groups or slammed to death for dating each other.

Sure your group wasn’t too big but you were gaining a sizable fan base. Fuck.

You laid down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling. Should you tell someone? You knew your company wouldn’t be angry—Manager Nayoung was openly a lesbian and even a few other staff members were gay. There was a gay flag in one of the recording rooms!

Dohyun wouldn’t be angry. Won-Shik would find a way to get a murder charge. Yuki would probably also get arrested for murder. Junho would comfort you. Young-Jae would laugh at you before comforting you in his own way.

The soft sputtering of the fan almost lulled into a sleepless slumber when your phone lit up. You reached over and grabbed your phone off the countertop.

It was Ye-Jun.

He just a sent a picture.

An old one.

His hair was a buzz cut. He had no smile on his lips as he stared straight at the camera. You wondered what could be worth sending this when you noticed yourself in the picture.

In the back, you were standing by the door of what you could only assume was a classroom. A wide smile on your face as you looked to be talking to someone that was off frame.

Was this him trying to take a picture of you in secret?

Kim Ye-Jun

↳ The first ever picture I took of you.

↳ freshman orientation

↳ your smile is your best feature

↳ 너무 예뻐서, 자기.

Cheesy.

You laughed, closing your eyes as you placed your phone back on the nightstand. Your throat felt tight as you placed your hands over your eyes. A heavy feeling began to swell in your chest as your lips began to twitch.

Fuck.

You were so emotional.

He was messing with you at this point.

With Young-Jae and Roha’s talk about taking control, you knew you had to if you didn’t have the strength to release Kim Ye-Jun from your heart.

You needed to punch Kim Ye-Jun in the face.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ you thiink jostt becaze everyone knows your nume that you can just forgot me like that

↳ you werant anyone spezial before I met you song noeul answwwer me you son of a bitch

↳ couldnt get in tuchh with that kim yejun bastaardrd had to go though his frend since when did you hing out with puple like them do they have accentts when they talk they’re from jeju yea

↳ youre facking kim yejun huh or maybe youre stiiill with that shortiiie from that shitty bannds cho (name) I knew you left me for him

↳ whats gaing to hupoen is your fault song noeul you culdve just taken me back instud of dumping me like

↳ those fens of yours are guna be pessed when they releize thiy fell in love wiz a faggot

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Guys, guess who just started following us on Instagram!” Won-Shik bursted into the recording room, ignoring Dohyun’s call for him to calm down. He pulled out his phone and showed you and Young-Jae the Instagram account.

“Huh? Who’s that? I don’t pay attention to actors.” Young-Jae asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the username.

@Yoursunset

(송노을) 7.9m followers 289 Following

“Your sunset?” Junho muttered, leaning over to try and get a better look as well.

Won-Shik hummed. “Well yeah, it makes sense. His name means glow of sunset.”

“His name is Noeul?” Dohyun asked.

Your eyes widened as you took Won-Shik’s phone away from him, ignoring his yell. You swiped at the account and took a look at the pictures. It was him. It really was Song Noeul. He was following the band’s account!

It shocked you that he was so popular. A year ago he only had a mere 98k followers. His dramas must’ve been getting mainstream attention for him to blow up like that.

His pictures looked to be promoting a new kdrama he was a side character as. A light hearted romcom. After that it was just pictures of him on his day to day life. Until you reached two years ago, he earned a lead role in a crime kdrama.

One of the pictures had him with Black Rose. This must’ve been the OST they made back then.

He even had a few pictures alone with Ye-Jun. of course Ye-Jun’s smile looked forced and strained but he did look semi happy near Noeul.

You clicked on Noeul’s recent story to see he was answering questions from fans. And one question asked whats his new favorite album.

Lo and behold he answered with “Love’s Fool” plus a link to your band’s account. The next question was a fan jokingly asking if he’s cheating on Black Rose which he answered with a picture of him and Ye-Jun with an X emoji on Ye-Jin’s face.

The caption said: “Ending relationship with Black Rose, Love Countdown is now my husband”

“Uh,” Won-Shik coughed, raising an eyebrow at your behavior. “Anyway the reason why I was telling you guys this is because this guy is popular! Look at how much followers he has. He just promoted us on his page. We’ll get so many new fans from him!”

Young-Jae looked over at you. “(Name) knows him.”

The rest of the group looked at you in shock. “Huh?!” They yelled in unison.

Right. Your relationship with Noeul was discrete. Especially when he left for another agency to debut as an actor instead. Only Young-Jae had known and it wasn’t because you had told him.

Young-Jae had unfortunately walked in on you having phone sex with Noeul. It was something you tried forgetting.

“(Name)-Ah, you know him?! Are you guys still friends?!” Won-Shik grabbed your face as he squished your cheeks together, making you look up at him. “Are you close? Do you know his MBTI??”

“MBTI…?” Yuki asked, tilting his head.

“Calm down, Won-Shik! (Name)-Ah can’t speak with you squishing his face like that.” Dohyun pulled Won-Shik away as you rubbed your cheeks now that they were free.

“Uh,” you muttered. “Yeah, we’re friends. Well, we were closer back then but I lost contact with him. I think he changed his number and unfortunately I never got it.”

Junho patted you on the back. “Maybe you can try to reconnect? It’s good to have friends that are outside of us.”

“Yeah, use him to get more fans!” Young-Jae grinned.

“Don’t listen to Jae.” Dohyun cut in, glaring at Young-Jae. “Junho is right. You need more friends.”

“I have Roha Hyung.” You pouted.

Junho shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a problem. You need friends outside of your band mates and outside of Kim Ye-Jun’s best friend.”

“Kim Ye-Jun is friends with Noeul…”

“But you knew Song Noeul first! So technically you have a right to be close to him.” Yuki chimed in.

Won-Shik grinned. “Think of it this way. You get a new friend and some extra connections for our band!”

“Stop thinking about money, Won-Shik!”

“Hey, money makes the world go round! We gotta get a deal for an OST before our second year anniversary!!!”

You began to tune out Won-Shik’s and Dohyun’s bickering as you glanced down at Noeul’s account.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Though the whole thing with someone threatening to out Noeul bothered you. Despite worrying about yourself—you worried about Noeul even more.

Now that you knew he was gaining popularity, he had more to lose at being outed.

At the very least… You thought it was in your best interest to warn Noeul that someone was threatening to ruin his career.

Now you just had to find a way to get close to him again. Would he even want to speak to you?

The rest of the day was spent in the recording booth. Won-Shik and Dohyun bickering. Young-Jae not so subtly fondling Dohyun’s ass whenever he thought no one was looking. Yuki and Junho snuggled together on the couch as Yuki occasionally bit Junho’s cheek.

You stayed on the far right of the couch—pondering on ways to creep back into Noeul’s life.

Message him on Instagram? No, his company probably checks his DMs.

Do a post and tag him? Would that be weird?

Go to his agency and ask to meet him? No way.

Ask Ye-Jun for his number? You’d rather jump off a bridge.

Maybe you’d have to just post and tag him.

Your phone suddenly lights up with a text from Ye-Jun. Speak of the devil.

It was another picture. One of him again. It looked to be taken not even a few days ago. He was dressed in a black harness that was over a skin tight white t-shirt. A black choker. You couldn’t see his lower half. But you could see his eye makeup.

Intense was putting it lightly. The eyeshadow was a dark black. His face was lightened up with a bit of white blush. A bit gothic? He still wasn’t smiling, of course. Another picture was sent, this time with a message.

↳ Our first OST filming

↳ Just remembered it

↳ It’s been two years, I think my hair cut looks similar to how it is now

↳ should I dye my hair? What’s your favorite color?

The picture made you do a double take. It was of him and Noeul. Noeul was dressed in a regular outfit. A black sweater with a hat on. He must’ve been visiting to see the music video happen.

It was a stark contrast. Noeul had a wide smile. His eyes forming into crescent moons as he put up a peace sign. Ye-Jun still looked dead at the camera with not even a hint of a smile.

Seeing Noeul felt different. He matured since you last saw him. He still had those sharp monolid eyes. Shaggy black hair. Soft plump lips.

Ye-Jun and Noeul didn’t look too far off from each other now that they were close.

Huh, you really did have a type.

You almost began to text Ye-Jun, asking him about Noeul but decided against it.

You knew a good way to get his attention.

Your eyes flickered back onto the picture. It almost felt like Ye-Jun staring right at you. His eyes were intense. Almost cold.

Were his eyes always this cold?

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞

The first time you ever met Song Noeul, he was quiet. Unnaturally quiet. So you stuck to him like glue.

Opposites attract. That’s what they say.

Even when he decided to become an actor instead—you still walked thirty minutes to meet him. It was pure friendship at first.

He was different personality wise from Ye-Jun but somehow had a familiar aura to him. Maybe a version of Ye-Jun you thought you had known.

Noeul was dating someone. Someone that you knew was treating him badly. You had once tried to relate it to your relationship with Ye-Jun until you saw the bruises on Noeul’s face one day.

That person was dangerous. Noeul never told you who it was—never even told your their gender.

It wasn’t until a year later, the day that you had finally been chosen in the final lineup for your company’s upcoming band that your relationship with Noeul was no longer platonic.

You had ran to him and tackled him into a hug outside of his agency. Your noses touched together as you excitedly told him the good news. It wasn’t even a moment later before he kissed you.

Then it just continued from there.

But all good things seem to always end for you. Noeul had gotten his first role as a side character in a kdrama and you got busy with your debut. You both just…drifted apart by pure accident.

A sigh left your lips as the memories began to flood your brain. Song Noeul was just too good to be true. You almost didn’t want to bother him. But you tried to tell yourself that he deserved to know about someone attempting to ruin his career.

You looked back, making sure the sunset was in view. You were out at the park—Junho and Young-Jae wanted to go for a walk so you tagged along. They were both doing some type of weird work out on the public bench as you tried to get a good angle for your picture.

Your lips pulled into a grin as you took multiple pictures. After going through them—you picked the three that you looked the best in and began to draft a post for Instagram.

The caption read: 안녕, 여러분!! 노을이 예쁘죠?

It was a bit one the nose but you were desperate. If you wanted to talk about the sunset, you would’ve used “일몰” instead of Noeul. Only a dumbass wouldn’t get your message.

@BRim_roha commented : ah, cute—I should steal you for myself

@BRhwang_hanbin responded : HYUNG STOP!!! Ye-Jun Hyung will kill you for real!

@BRseo_minji responded : didn’t you tell us earlier to stop spamming his comment section?

@BRpark_shion responded : you idiots make it seem like we have nothing better to do. WE ARE STILL DOING PROMOTIONS DUMBASS!!!!

@BRkim_yejun commented : why are you all here before me….? Anyway, so pretty, Jagi. Why did you use 노을?

You sighed. Of course those stupid fucks were already spamming your comment section. You scrolled past their conversation as Minji and Hanbin got into an argument.

Your heart felt like it was being clenched by a hand. Squeezed tightly as if you couldn’t breathe anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t get it. Maybe he didn’t even care about you like that and just liked your music?

Maybe he didn’t even want to talk to you ever again because he’s living a better life now and how could he possibly want a reminder about his before and and—

@Yoursunset commented : Yeah, I think I’m very pretty ㅋㅋㅋ

You definitely didn’t squeal, most definitely not. Young-Jae glanced over at you with an unimpressed look. Junho gave you smile before turning his attention back to his workout.

Perfect. Everything would be set in motion, one step at a time.

The next few weeks you would post something that Noeul would comment on. He made no attempt to try and go any further with that and you were set on keeping it there as well.

This would be enough. It could be enough for you.

It didn’t make much sense in your mind.

Ye-Jun was crazy but you liked him. Noeul was seemingly normal and you liked him.

Was it normal to like two men at the same time?

Did you even feel love for Noeul or was it just nostalgia?

You were just confused these days.

And you began to notice an odd uptick in Ye-Jun’s behavior. More so the fact he hasn’t been talking or texting you.

But everything is going to be fine.

Right?

Yeah… You knew deep down it wasn’t.

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거야 왜? ❞

It was a fine and calming day. Love Countdown was doing the photoshoot for their upcoming single: Spring Day. The theme was fun and more upbeat than the previous comeback.

The photo shoots were always fun for you. Dressing in cool outfits. The funky sets. And even just taking pictures with your hyungs was a blast.

You had just finished up your solo photoshoot when your phone began to rang. It was Ye-Jun. Your body froze as you stared at your phone, slipping on your jacket. It had been a few weeks since he’d call.

It felt like your heart was hammering in your chest as you let it ring. You couldn’t answer it. You knew it wouldn’t be smart to answer it with staff around you. The call ended and a message was swiftly sent to you.

↳ meet me at the hotel. You know which one

He didn’t send anything else after that. You didn’t respond. You’d go either way. Fuck, why were you going? But before you knew it—you were standing at the hotel he took you that day after Manager Nayoung’s birthday party.

There was another text sent to you with the room number once you reached it. How’d he..?

You didn’t question it, going straight to the room. Maybe you can finally do what Young-Jae and Roha told you to do. Punch Kim Ye-Jun.

Your knuckles rasped against the door for only a second when it pulled open. A shocked grunt left your lips as Ye-Jun pulled you inside the room. He slammed the door shut behind himself as you stared at him shock.

Gosh, seeing him after almost five months was a bit surreal. He was clean faced and a bit sweaty, maybe he had ran over here? His hair was messy as he stood up straight. You stopped giving him a glance over and looked him in the eye.

Oh.

He was angry.

“Cho (Name)…”

Fuck. Fuck, he was probably going to talk about Junho.

“What’s your relationship to Song Noeul? You’ve practically been flirting with him for the last few weeks. What the fuck is that? He’s my friend, y’know?”

You couldn’t help the slight smirk on your lips. At least Junho was safe. “Your friend…? Ah, right. You think you know me, hm? Well, I know Song Noeul. Longer than you have.”

“Longer than me? How? I’ve known him for over three years now.”

“Mhm. Why should I tell you? Can I not have a relationship with Song Noeul? Is he yours? Roha Hyung said that you have an odd tendency to take ownership over people.”

“Ownership?” Ye-Jun laughed. “What else did Roha Hyung tell you? Tell you about our kindergarten days? High school days before I went off to the military?”

“No. Because if I want to learn someone about you—I’ll ask you. Because if you like someone—you’d want to learn everything about them.”

Ye-Jun’s eyes widen and he almost looked shocked before he shook his head. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s your relationship to Song Noeul?”

“Remember when you asked me about who I slept with? I told you about a trainee that you wouldn’t have known about… I was wrong—you clearly know Noeul-Ah.”

“He’s not a hyung to you?”

“He was born the year after mines.” You grinned, enjoying the look of shock on his face. “You’d know that… if you remembered my birthday.”

“You’re really cocky these days, (Name)-Ah. It’s cute. Real cute. It’s almost making me wonder why I’m still wanting you.”

You glared at him. “That’s all you can think about. You only want me. Do you… Do you even like me? What do you even like about me? How pathetic I am to you?”

Yuki’s words about Junho were flooding back to you. Why were you so after Ye-Jun? Why did you let him crawl into your heart? Why did you even let him come back?

“What do you want me to say, (Name)?”

“I…That you love me. That you don’t just find me pathetic.. That… That there’s other things you like about me.. y’know? My personality… things I do.”

“Love you?” Ye-Jun’s eyebrows farrowed as he stared at you in shock. He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “What’s with this all of sudden? You didn’t care that I didn’t say it much back then. Why now?”

Your lips pressed into a straight line as you glared at him. “You don’t even say it all. Just.. why do you want me?”

Ye-Jun glanced over at you. “I don’t know. I don’t know, (Name). When you left me, I felt empty. I don’t know what these feelings are but I know that I can’t be without you.”

“Yeah? Well, I know how to speak about my feelings. And I know when to admit my mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“Mhm. You won’t ever apologize for what you did to me but I’ll apologize to you right now. I lied. I did fuck Yang Junho. No, he fucked me. He fucked me good and I liked every—”

A strangled gasp left your throat as Ye-Jun grabbed your arm and slammed you against the wall. His lips smashed against yours as you tried pushing him away. But he was stronger, tightening his hold on your arms as he moved to cage you against the wall.

Your hands gripped at his shirt when you realized you had no strength to push him off. His teeth bit at your lip as he pressed his body against yours.

He finally pulled away from the kiss, glaring down at you. “Yang Junho, huh?”

A smirk pulled on your lips as you stared up at him. Your lip burned. Fuck, did he cut it open?

“Yeah. Yang Junho. Does that piss you off? Make you angry?”

“Keep talking, Cho (Name). It pisses me off even more. But that’s what you want. To piss me off.”

“Maybe. Does the thought of Yang Junho fucking me into the bed make you angry? Does it make you hate me for abandoning you for someone better?”

Ye-Jun blinked as he took in your words. A slow smirk pulled on his lips as he let out a laugh.

“Yeah, it makes me hate you.”

His hands trailed down to your legs and gripped your thighs. He hoisted you up with ease as he carried you over to the bed. You grunted when you were unceremoniously dropped without a warning. Hands gripped your jeans as Ye-Jun pulled off it off.

You reached up and slipped off your shirt, readying to take off your boxers when you heard the sound of fabric tearing.

“Kim Ye-Jun! That’s the second pair of boxers you’ve tore!”

Ye-Jun didn’t answer you, his gaze hard as he slipped off his own shirt. You gulped. Maybe you really did make him angry this time. Your gaze followed Ye-Jun as he gripped your waist. He easily turned you over into your stomach, ignoring your yelps.

The sound of skin slapping caused you to shriek, back arching. He really just spanked you. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, slowly spreading you open. Your hands gripped into the bedsheets as you waited in anticipation of what he was going to do.

Teeth sunk into your ass, earning a shuddered gasp from you. Ye-Jun bit and marked at your ass. He left no space of your ass unmarked. Your cock twitched as you slowly grind against the bed, giving yourself some form of relief.

You gasped, hips jittering as you felt a tongue lick around your hole. Ye-Jun’s nails dug into your skin as he began to mouth at your hole. The feeling of his tongue threatening to slip inside sent you into a frenzy.

It had to have been because you hadn’t had sex in over five months. Didn’t help you would sometimes over hear Young-Jae and Dohyun having the time of their lives late at night.

“K..Kim Ye-Jun…” You whimpered, gasping as you felt spit coat your rim. “No lube..?!”

“You don’t deserve lube.” Was all Ye-Jun said before his middle and ring finger teased your outer rim. Your body shivered. Fuck, fuck.

The fingers pressed against your hole before he slammed it inside, earning a cry from you. You subconsciously rose your ass up as Ye-Jun began to finger fuck you. Without lube there was a slight burn. But it only made you more horny.

Ye-Jin’s fingers curled, teasing your wet inner wall as you gasped. A graze against your prostate earned a strangled whimper from you as you bit your tongue. This wasn’t a love hotel—you didn’t want to be screaming when it was only 7 pm in the evening.

His fingers repeatedly pressed against your prostate. Rubbing smooth circles around it as you cried and whimpered. Your cock felt heavy. You felt as if you could orgasm now. But then he suddenly stopped.

“Ngh…?” You whimpered, eyes opening as you tried to look back at Ye-Jun.

“What? Don’t think you can bat your eyelashes and I’ll do what you say.” Ye-Jun laughed, rudely pushing your head back onto the bed. “Don’t look back at me again unless you don’t want to cum at all tonight.”

It was silent for a second. Your body began to twitch with anxiety as you could feel your cock losing its erection. What was he trying to do?

A complaint was on the tip of your tongue when a brutal four minutes had passed but you didn’t get to say anything. His two fingers thrusted back inside of your puckered hole as you gasped in shock. They immediately zeroed in on your prostate—not holding back a continuous attack.

He rubbed the edge of your prostate before pressing down fully on it. You whined, your hips jerking upwards as he didn’t make any movement. Your cock was alive once again, the tip sticky and wet with pre-cum.

You were so close. Almost there.

But he didn’t move again. He kept his middle and ring finger resting right on your prostate. Your toes curled as you bucked your hips backwards to try and get him to move. That earned a harsh smack right on your ass.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

You whimpered, trying to will your body to stay still. It felt like hours when it was only two minutes before he began to tease your prostate. A thankful groan left your throat as you tried to savor the feeling.

Your cock rubbed against the bedsheets as it coated them with your pre-cum. A babble of nonsense left your lips as you gripped at the sheets—reaching your orgasm.

Then it stopped just as you reached your peak.

A whiny almost pathetic whimper left your throat as you felt tears water in your eyes. You couldn’t take this anymore. Your body began to shake slightly as you tried to calm down even as the tears began to fall.

“Hurts?” Ye-Jun suddenly whispered against your ear. You flinched, feeling his body heat against you. Only a whimper left you.

“Good.” He simply said, pulling away.

Your eyes widen as you felt his hand reach underneath your stomach, grasping your aching cock. You almost cried tears of joy as he began to jerk you off, his fingers occasionally rubbing your prostate in tandem. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you couldn’t help back your high pitched moans.

“Almost there, Jagiya. I’m sure Yang Junho never made you feel like this…” he suddenly tightened his grip on the tip of your cock, stopping your orgasm. “Just like I’m sure he isn’t as cruel as me.”

“Noooo…” You cried out, reaching up to crawl away from Ye-Jun. He only laughed and pulled his hand away, grabbing your hips and pulling you back down to the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going? I thought you wanted to cum.”

“I…ngh…..! ‘Ate ‘u…!” You managed to mutter, your eyes feeling heavy.

“Mhm. I hate you too, Jagiya.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your shoulder. “If only you weren’t promoting soon. You deserve my mark all over your body. Maybe then you’ll realize you’re mine.”

He pulled away from your body, leaving you to cry at the loss. Ye-Jun hummed as he grabbed your waist and flipped you into your back, forcing your head to lay off the edge of the bed. You were face to face with growing bulge. His hand pulled down his zipper, tugging down his boxers, as his cock slipped free.

It was inches from your face, the tip touching your nose. Ye-Jun reached over and wiped at your face. Your face was stained with tears. A smile pulled on his lips as he uncharacteristically gently stroked your cheek before grabbing his cock and pressing it against your lips.

You obeyed with ease, your lips parting as he slowly thrusted his cock into your mouth. He was slow—seemingly nice enough to not just trigger your gag reflex immediately. His hand traced your cheek before trailing down to your throat, rubbing the slight bulge there.

Your cock twitched as your legs clamped together. You wanted to cum so bad but didn’t make any attempt to grab your own cock despite it leaking dejectedly on your stomach.

“You’re pretty with your mouth shut, Jagiya. If you didn’t have a pretty voice when singing, I would make sure you could never talk again.”

A pathetic whimper left your throat as you tried to ignore the thought.

His hand gently massaged your throat before he pulled his hips back. You braced yourself, closing your eyes at the feeling of him against your tongue. His tip teased the tip of your tongue before he slammed his hips forward.

The sound of his grunts and your choked gasps filled the room as he fucked your mouth. He wasn’t gentle or slow in the slightest, making sure he could go as deep as possibly without triggering your gag reflex. Your toes curled as your body moved from his heavy thrusts.

Your cock was leaking pre-cum all over your tummy as you itched over to quickly jerk yourself off. You needed an orgasm like twenty minutes ago.

“That’s it. Jerk yourself off.” He said, tightening his grip on your throat. You didn’t need to be told twice as you quickly grabbed your cock and began jerking off to the rhythm of his thrusts. Your hips jerked up as your body was taking over by the pleasure.

Ye-Jun smirked as he quickened his pace, widening his stance as he slammed his cock deep inside your throat. You could feel yourself choking just a bit—almost forgetting to breathe.

“Nose. Use your nose.” Ye-Jun suddenly grunted out, noticing your hands frantically gripping at the bed. You felt like an idiot for forgetting to do that but you tried to give yourself a pass at being too taken with the pleasure.

You moved your hand back to your cock and quickly jerked yourself off, ready to finally meet your first orgasm. Ye-Jun seemed close as well judging by his moans. It felt like your body was spasming as your cock finally squirted cum onto your stomach, shooting up to your chest.

Ye-Jun pulled his cock out as you let out a strangled and hoarse scream. Your hips jerked upwards as you continued jerking yourself off during your orgasm. Wet tears streamed down your face as you took a deep breath, trying to calm down as your body shook from the intense sensation.

Your neck hurt so you tried to move to rest properly on the bed but didn’t get to move far when Ye-Jun gripped your throat. A shocked gasp left your throat as you looked up at him to see him smirking at you.

“Hey, don’t be so selfish.” He used his free hand to jerk himself as he pointed his cock right at your face. You could only squirm in his grip, hands reaching up to try and pull his hand off your throat. But it was useless, he was larger than you.

White cum squirted from Ye-Jun’s cock, landing right on your face. You quickly shut your eyes as it landed on your lips, cheeks, and nose. Luckily nowhere near your eyes. Ye-Jun rubbed at your throat before pulling away.

His touch was soft. You almost called back for him. But you couldn’t speak. This feeling felt different. Like you could just sleep peacefully and wake up refreshed the next day.

Was this… the sub space Dohyun mentioned? Did Ye-Jun really make you feel this safe despite everything?

The sound of a zipper pulling up caught your hears as you finally opened your eyes. He was far away. Too far. You had to hold back the childish whimper that threatened to leave you.

“…’her you ‘ing..?” You managed to hoarsely mutter.

Ye-Jun tilted his hand at you as he grinned. “You look good with cum on your face, (Name). It’s my favorite sight.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture. You didn’t even have the mental strength to yell at him for that.

He walked away and you strained to watch him as he slipped on his sneakers. He was leaving? Leaving you like this? You grunted, using your strength to sit up properly on the bed as you stared at him in shock.

“You’re not..”

“Leaving? Yeah, I’m leaving.” Ye-Jun said, grabbing his jacket and baseball cap off the hook.

He looked back over at you, his face unreadable.“I hate you, remember? Just like you hate me. Isn’t that our relationship? We’re fuck buddies now.”

With that, he left. You stared at the door in shock as you tried to calm down. What the fuck? Fuck buddies? Your heart felt odd. You felt as if you were having trouble breathing.

What was wrong with you?

You pushed yourself off the bed, kneeling down to grab your jeans as you pulled out your phone. Tears began to fall onto the screen as you shakily pressed the first contact you came across in your messages.

“Wonnie Hyung…?” You hiccuped. “I need you.”

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞

“I’m going to murder him.”

You looked over at Junho as he paced around Won-Shik’s bedroom. Won-Shik was beside you on the bed with an uncharacteristically blank stare. When you had called him he had practically ran to where you were.

The look on his face when you opened the door was something you didn’t want to see again.

“So he was angry at you and then did all that?” Won-Shik suddenly spoke, the first time in the hour he brought you home. You mutely nodded, burrowing yourself into the bedsheets. It was embarrassing to tell your band mate this but you didn’t exactly have anyone else.

No way in hell were you going to Roha. Or worse, your parents. You haven’t exactly spoken to them in five years.

Junho groaned, rubbing at his head. “Why is he like this? Does he even like you? He says he was lonely when you left but now that he has you again he’s acting like a fucking fool?”

“I’m a fool for going back to him.” You whispered, sighing to yourself. Junho frowned as he finally sat down on the bed, rubbing your head.

“Don’t beat yourself, (Name)-Ah. You just.. You must really like him. I’m not sure why, but he must’ve been a good person before this all happened.”

“He was. But I’m starting to think I love him because he’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Could be that. But even when you were away from him—did you still think about him?”

“Of course. I always thought about him. I’m so confused with myself.”

Junho gave you a comforting smile as he moved to lay down with you on the bed. You couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped the blanket around you like a cocoon and hug you to his chest.

Won-Shik hummed, catching your attention. He looked over at you and gave you a tight smile. “I’ve thought about what to do and unfortunately they all come up with me getting a murder charge.”

“I can still be your alibi.” Junho said seriously.

“Tempting.”

“Please don’t.” You whined, pouting. “I think I’ll get more depressed if he’s gone for good and you’ll be locked up in jail.”

“You’re too nice, (Name)-Ah.” Won-Shik sighed, shaking his head. He pulled out his phone and got up. “I need to tell Dohyun Hyung. I’ll be back.” He left the room, leaving you and Junho alone.

Junho nuzzled your hair before sighing softly. “Why’d you tell him that we slept together, (Name)-Ah? That was dangerous.”

“He would never hurt me physically.”

“But he has no problem hurting you mentally.”

You only closed your eyes, burying your face into the blanket cocoon. You were too mentally tired to think about this right now. Right now, you wanted to the warmth of Junho and your blanket cocoon.

It seemed you fell asleep because you woke up to Young-Jae on the bed with you. He was wrapped around you like an octopus, leg and arm over your body. Soft snores left his throat as you could see drool on his chin. You almost laughed at the sight.

Another body pressed against you as you looked to your left to see Dohyun right beside you, fast asleep. He looked like an angel compared to Young-Jae’s chaotic form. Dohyun’s arms were cross against his chest as his hair somehow stayed perfectly neat. How could one sleep like that?

A grunt left Young-Jae as he mumbled something before he opened his eye. His eye narrowed in on you as if he was trying to see if you were awake.

“….?egah?”

“What?” You laughed, watching as he sat up, pulling away from you. Young-Jae yawned, stretching his arms out before turning to look down at you.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“Good. This cocoon is comforting.”

Young-Jae nodded as he rubbed his bed head. He glanced around before humming. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About Kim Ye-Jun?”

“No. The sub space.”

“Sub space? Did I really get into it?”

“I’m guessing. With how Won-Shik described your behavior when he came to get you. Have you ever experienced it before?”

“No… I don’t think Kim Ye-Jun knows anything about that type of stuff. Our sex back then was pretty vanilla. It’s only the two times we’ve fucked that he’s been more mean and dominant during sex.”

“So you guys didn’t discuss any boundaries or anything like that?”

“No. Why would we?”

Young-Jae sighed. “Of course. Well he’s still a dick either way even if you were both naive to what you were doing. Did he really say he hated you?”

You hummed, looking down.

“He’s insane. He acts so lovey dovey on Instagram but he seems unhinged in person.”

“It’s like…” You frown, pursing your lips together. “He has trouble speaking his feelings when we’re face to face. But on text, he acts like how he used to act before we broke up.”

“Do you think… he does it on purpose? Or maybe he just doesn’t realize?”

“I don’t know. I want him to realize how he’s affecting me. First I think he’s acting loving towards me and then he does shit like this.”

“I told you,” Young-Jae smirked. “You’re going to have to punch him. You gotta let him know he isn’t the boss of this relationship if you really won’t leave him. Stop letting him lead the conversations.”

You thought back to what Roha said. How he had to punch some sense into Ye-Jun to tell him how he was being suffocating. Maybe… Maybe you did need to stop acting nice.

Kim Ye-Jun would only listen with violence. Because it seemed he never grew up during his high school years.

And if that didn’t work…

You’d have to gain the strength to completely cut Kim Ye-Jun out of your life forever.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↳ SONG NOEUL

↳ ywure intarcating wiz hem agaen i tuld ywu to cemo buck to me

↳ thus wel be ywoure fult fagot

↳ cho (name) bund wel be reined becaze of ywo

↳ kell ywor silf for twryinf to abendon me

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It had been over a week since the whole incident. Ye-Jun had made no attempt to contact you. You kept drafting so many messages on what to send him. Wondering if it’d be better to meet him in person.

You felt like you’d pop a blood vessel if you continued any longer.

So, Won-Shik and Young-Jae took you out to dinner. It was a restaurant you’ve never tried so you were excited the entire time. Won-Shik and Young-Jae knew how to get your mind off things with ease.

You felt a pep in your step as you walked behind Young-Jae with Won-Shik beside you. They wanted to take a scenic walk through the park before going home. Won-Shik was showing you something on your phone when Young-Jae suddenly stopped.

“Huh? Something wrong?” You asked, walking up to see what made him pause.

It was Roha, Ye-Jun and another band member of theirs. You couldn’t tell who it was until they walked over. Ah, it was Shion. Shion’s eyes narrowed on you as if it was the first time he was ever seeing you. Roha grinned and waved.

Ye-Jun, for the first time in forever, avoided eye contact with you.

You almost thought that it couldn’t have been Ye-Jun at all.

“Evening. I’m Park Shion. I don’t think we properly met.” Shion said, holding his hand out. Young-Jae glared at his hand while Won-Shik stepped over and returned his handshake. With Won-Shik being the oldest, he had a duty to protect his maknaes.

“Shin Won-Shik. Introduce yourself.” He told you and Young-Jae.

“… Lee Young-Jae.”

“Cho (Name).”

“Im Roha.”

It was silent before Shion grabbed Ye-Jun by the back of his neck, essentially scuffing him like a cat. Ye-Jun grunted before sending a deadly glare at Shion.

“…Kim Ye-Jun.”

“I know.” Won-Shik answered, eyeing Ye-Jun up and down. Ye-Jun was 6 foot but was nothing compared to Won-Shik’s 6’3. You had some weirdly tall band mates. It was practically a joke from your company that half of the band should’ve been volleyball players.

An awkward silence filled the space as the six of you stared at each other. Only Roha seemed amused by everything, a light smirk on his lips as he looked over at you. He chuckled and motioned at Ye-Jun, making a bawling motion with his hands.

Bawling? Kim Ye-Jun bawling? It’d be a frigid day in hell if that was true.

But Roha wouldn’t have any reason to lie to you.

Roha stopped for a moment before he began to mouth something to you.

Geu… reul… ju…meok..eu..ro?

그를 주먹으로?

Geureul jumeokeuro?

It took a moment before it could register in your mind. Punch him. Roha was telling you to punch him. A grin spread on your lips as you took in Roha’s advice.

Won-Shik tilted his head as he stared straight at Ye-Jun. “Why are you bothering my maknae? Are you so lonely that you go after someone you willfully mistreated? Has your personality pushed away everyone that you have to prey on someone who has an unconditional love for you that it’s the cause of their own downfall?”

You watched as he stepped forward, leaning his head down so he could look Ye-Jun straight in the eye. Ye-Jun’s lips straightened into a thin line as he stared right back him, eyes narrowing as if he was daring Won-Shik to continue.

That didn’t seem to be the right answer as Won-Shik grabbed Ye-Jun’s jacket and pulled him close. Roha backed away, an amused smirk on his lips while Shion sighed. He didn’t make any effort to help Ye-Jun though—he was shorter than the both of them at 5’9. No way in hell would he risk himself for Ye-Jun’s own problem.

“You talk all that shit to (Name) and Junho but you can’t do it to me? Do I scare you, Kim Ye-Jun?” Won-Shik was certainly scaring you. Being tall with a muscular body was just intimidating in general. Pair it with his features—he just looked naturally scary.

It was a thing in the fandom that many of the fans found it hot how scary he could be while cuddly the next.

And right now, you were glad none of the fans ever saw how scary Won-Shik could truly be.

“Stop playing with (Name). Because if you truly wanted him like you say, you wouldn’t leave him a sobbing mess for us to clean up after you ruined him for your own pleasure.” Won-Shik released his grip on Ye-Jun, shaking his head as he walked away from him.

Young-Jae frowned. “I was hoping you’d punch him.”

Roha laughed. “Yeah me too!”

“Roha!” Shion glared at Roha who only laughed, shrugging his shoulders. Ye-Jun rubbed at the collar of his jacket as he straightened it back. He still wouldn’t look at you. Somehow that made you angrier than anything he’s done before.

The whole speech you had wanted to give him was long out of your mind at this point. You would probably speak to him another time.

Your feet moved before you could even think. The others watched you, Won-Shik instinctively reaching out to stop you. Ye-Jun finally looked over at you when he noticed you from his peripheral vision. He opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him.

“(Name)—”

A shocked yell left Shion as everyone watched in shock as you slam your fist square inbetween Ye-Jun’s eyes. Ye-Jun’s balance stumbled as he grunted at the force, about to fall to the ground until Roha grabbed his arms. Roha began laughing, holding Ye-Jun from off the floor.

“I didn’t think you’d actually punch him!” Young-Jae yelled, unsure if he should feel proud or shocked.

You whined, shaking your right hand as you brought it up to your face to see your knuckles were bleeding. Fuck, did punching people always hurt like this?

“You’re so funny, Cho (Name)! I meant it metaphorically but he deserved to be punched!” Roha laughed.

“Wait, you never punched..? But you said you socked him in the face?” You cried, wondered how the fuck you were wrong in your interpretation of events.

“Poor wording. I did shove him against a table and he ended up hurting his face from the fall. But this is the best day of my life!”

Shion looked mostly shocked. He glanced down at Ye-Jun. “Shit, he’s bleeding. How am I going to explain this to Riwoo Hyung?!”

Roha shrugged. “Tell him Ye-Jun fucked around and found out. Let’s go, I’m tired of holding him up.”

Won-Shik was just staring at you, mouth agape before a wide grin spread on his lips. He grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up, spinning around despite your yelps for him to put you down.

“Cho (Name)!! Who knew you had it in you? You’re not just a cute maknae, you’re a strong maknae! You might’ve broke his nose!”

Young-Jae walked over to you two and smirked. “Let’s hope he doesn’t hate you enough to press charges.”

You and Won-Shik stopped celebrating as realization began to settle in. Ah fuck. You looked over to see Roha and Shion dragging Ye-Jun away. Roha looked back and waved goodbye, giving you a thumbs up.

It was so odd that Ye-Jun’s childhood friend would enjoy seeing his friend get beat. Shion didn’t even seem too upset. You could see them both struggle a bit, Roha and Shion were slimmer compared to Ye-Jun’s stocker build as they dragged him away.

Won-Shik finally placed you on the ground as he lovingly patted your head. “Let’s not tell Dohyun Hyung. He’d have a heart attack.”

Young-Jae hummed. “Yeah, Jagi might pass out and I won’t get to fuck him tonight.”

You and Won-Shik stared at Young-Jae with an unimpressed expression. “Gross.” You said in unison.

“What?”

The rest of the walk back to the apartment complex was fun. Won-Shik kept complimenting you about the punch while saying you should’ve went for a different form. It was the reason why you ended up hurting your hand just as bad.

Your right hand was in total pain. Your knuckles bloody. It hurt to flex your hand so you were just keeping it as still as possible until Yuki could dress your wound once you got home. Though it would be a pain to explain what happened to Yuki.

Hopefully he’d be proud of you.

Just as you reached the door to the complex, the sight of someone caused you to froze.

Standing near the building dressed in a white t-shirt and a puffy black jacket with black sweatpants. You almost thought you were going crazy until the person took off their cap and pulled down their mask.

Song Noeul.

He looked prettier in person. His lips pulled into a wide smile. “(Name) Hyung?” His voice like a melody. You always wondered why he quit singing when his voice was so soft and sweet.

“SONG NOEUL?! I love your dramas!!!” Won-Shik yelled, practically vibrating in excitement. Noeul looked shocked at first before smiling at Won-Shik. He bowed his head.

“Thank you, Shin Won-Shik.”

“YOU KNOW MY NAME?!? HAHAH!!! Call me Won-Shik Hyung, please!!!!”

“Calm the fuck down, Hyung.” Young-Jae muttered. “He’s here for (Name), not for you to fanboy all over him.”

Won-Shik quickly schooled his expression, nodding. “Yes, of course. Right. Haha. We’ll leave you two alone.” He didn’t make an effort to move so Young-Jae grabbed his arm and began to pull him away.

“Wait, wait!!! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH NEXT TIME YOU VISIT!!! PLEASE VISIT AGAIN!!! (Name)!!! This your chance!!!” Won-Shik screamed even as Young-Jae pulled him inside the complex.

You blushed in embarrassment, biting your lip as Noeul only laughed. He turned his attention over to you.

“Your Instagram posts are cute.” Noeul said. “I didn’t know if I was imagining it the first time but I’m glad I wasn’t. I missed talking to you.”

“Why.. Why did you lose contact with me?” You whispered.

Noeul frowned. “I’m sorry, Hyung. I didn’t want to. But I’ve been… I’ve been stalked for a while and my manager told me to change my number. But she didn’t allow me to get most of my contacts back that weren’t her and my parents. She said I couldn’t trust anyone since it was the beginning of my career. It’s always fragile in the beginning.”

“Are you still being stalked?”

“Not that I know of. I’m still advised to be careful.” He pulled out his phone and smiled. “But I wanted to get your number anyway. I wanted my hyung back.”

You stared at his phone before reaching over to grab it, putting in your number. A gummy smile pulled on his lips as he giggled, stepping closer to you.

“I’m taller than you now. You didn’t grow at all.”

You pouted. “Rude. Is that any way to talk to your hyung?”

“Mhm, maybe?”

Noeul and you broke into a fit of giggles. It was nice to see him again. Alive and well. You subconsciously flexed your right hand and groaned. Noeul frowned, leaning in closer as he caught sight of your hand.

“Hyung…! What happened? Are you okay?” He gently grasped your hand, bringing it close as he took in the damage. His finger almost threatened to accidentally rub against the wound but he stopped himself just in time.

“Ah.. I punched someone.”

“Punch..? Who?!”

“Hah, Kim Ye-Jun.”

“Kim… Kim Ye-Jun?! Black Rose’s Kim Ye-Jun?! What did he do to deserve that?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time.”

Noeul frowned but nodded his hand. “Okay. It’s getting late, I should go back before my manager notices I’m gone.”

“You didn’t tell her that you left? Song Noeul!”

“It’s okay. I’m only a twenty minute walk away from here.”

You glared at him, almost wanting to chastise him but decided against it. It almost felt like you never stopped talking to him. Noeul blinked, staring at you for a second before his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“You hurt your lip too..?”

His finger gently touched the scab on your bottom lip. It was from Ye-Jun. He really had bite your lip open. You watched Noeul as he frowned slightly. His gaze softened.

“You’re still so accident prone, Hyung.”

You stopped yourself from saying it was from the same man. Instead, you leaned closer into Noeul’s space. His body stiffen for a second and you almost stepped away until he took a stepped forward.

“I should get going.” He whispered.

“Mhm. Yeah, I need to get my wound dressed.”

It felt like time stopped as you pressed your body against his. Your eyes fluttered close as you leaned on your toes. You didn’t feel anything for a moment and almost believed you were reading too far into things when soft lips pressed against yours.

The kiss was slow. Almost like you both were scared that you were dreaming. Like a peck you’d give your first ever boyfriend. You didn’t want to deepen it. The pure feeling you got from Noeul was everything you wanted. No, needed.

You pulled away from the kiss and slowly opened your eyes. Noeul smiled as he rubbed at your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying. After months of Kim Ye-Jun, a love you wished could be like it was before… Song Noeul felt safe.

But you didn’t want to use him. You couldn’t use him for your own selfish benefit. So you reluctantly pulled away. Noeul didn’t stop you, allowing you to slip from his hold.

“Sorry… I just…”

“It’s okay, Hyung.” Noeul smiled. “Y’know, it reminded me of our first ever kiss. I kissed you that day and you pulled away, apologizing right after.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“So I know that we’ll be okay. I’m don’t know what I feel for you, Hyung. I’m not sure if it’s nostalgia but I want you. I’ve liked you since that winter we met. I think I still like you. I haven’t been able to connect with anyone after you.”

“I… I feel the same. But I need to explain to you something before we can continue, okay? Just not tonight. I’m too tired.” You confessed, biting your lip.

Noeul hummed, seemingly understanding. “Okay. I’ll let you go up, Hyung. Talk to you soon.” He slipped on his cap and pulled up his mask, waving goodbye as he walked away. You watched him walk for a moment before going inside when you couldn’t see him anymore.

You were in the elevator when you got a text. You pulled out your phone and checked the message.

It was from Noeul.

It was just a picture—an older one. He looked shy in the picture, mostly looking at you who was holding the phone to do a selfie. Your grin was wide as you held up a peace sign. Noeul was following you as he held a makeshift peace sign that didn’t fully extend. It almost looked like he was doing air quotes.

A smile spread across your lips.

It felt nice to finally have someone calming in your life resurface.

Ice to cool you down from the fire that was Kim Ye-Jun.

But of course, you shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

↴

Uhm, dude. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not Song Noeul? You got the wrong number

↴

Also, you’re fucking insane and can’t spell for shit

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

→ no way ㅋㅋㅋㅋ he’s gay??

→ shameless to be making out in public

→ wtf? I’ve been simping over a gay man??

→ gross ㅋㅋㅋ

→ ugh, waste of a man!!

→ I’m not sure why you girls are whining, not like you would’ve had a chance with him anyway ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ isn’t he in a recent drama with a kid???

→ poor kid ㅠㅠ we gotta get him out before he gets the kid

→ there’s literal rapists walking free in the film industry, but sure, homotron 3000 is the problem

→ uhm, why is no one weirded out that some of these pictures are taken in the privacy of Song Noeul’s home????!

→ is it just me or does it look like he has bruises on his body for a few of these pics?? Dispatch wtf?

→ he literally looks underaged in some of these pictures?? Why am I seeing a minors nudes?

→ it doesn’t matter that it’s pixilated, why are you showing this?! Guys we gotta report the post

→ Moon Taeil literally exists and yall seem more angry at a gay man??

→ I don’t care that he likes sucking dick, at least he can act

→ yall are so fucking funny. If Song Noeul dies because of this don’t pretend you care about celebrities mental health for a week before forgetting all about him

→ fucking gross, he probably makes Black Rose uncomfortable ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ he’s dating Love Countdown’s Cho (Name)???

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑639 ↓248)

↳ damn, I was wrong. Cho (Name) isn’t dating Kim Ye-Jun ㅎㅎ

@junhoswhore (↑1264 ↓387)

↳ uh, isn’t this revenge porn?

@yukiiwukki (↑2763 ↓19)

↳ the person who sold the info to dispatch seem insane ㅋㅋㅋ why do we have to know about an actor’s love life?

@_loveandfear (↑635 ↓127)

↳ he’s literally a minor in some of the pictures, dispatch fucking delete these

@jaesflatass (↑3872 ↓498)

↳ I forgot homophobia existed ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@lovewonshiik (↑835 ↓376)

↳ the cute guys are always gay… I hope Won-Shik is straight ㅠㅠ

@Dohyungotafatty (↑1972 ↓287)

↳ it’s not like you had a chance ㅋㅋ

@freakfundashi (↑532 ↓9)

↳ It doesn’t feel right to make a sex joke right now ㅠㅠ I hope Song Noeul is okay

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Roha Hyung

↳ don’t check online. Don’t check your comments, please don’t. Take care of yourself.

Wonnie Hyung

↳ stay home, (Name). I’m coming with Manager Nayoung

Dohyunie Hyung

↳ I’m sorry this is happening to you, baby. Don’t leave your room. Jae and I are coming over, we’re just stuck in traffic

Jae Hyung

↳ it was him right?! I’m going to fucking kill him

↳ this better not have been Kim Ye-Jun I swear to god

Jun Jun Hyung

↳ (Name)… open the door please. I know you hear me. Please, I need to make sure you’re okay

Ki Ki Hyung

↳ don’t test me, (Name). I will unscrew the bolts of your door if you don’t open it now

Manager Choi Nayoung

↳ don’t you dare think we’re angry at you, Cho (Name). I’m sorry you were outed like this. I’m coming now to check on you. We’ll figure out how to deal with this and find out who sold the information to dispatch.

Kim “Son of a bitch” Ye-Jun

↳ Cho (Name). Stop looking at the comments. I know you are. It might hurt now but know those people aren’t even your fans.

↳ not even that, why do you care about the feelings of someone you’d never meet? Of someone who would be a coward to say it to you in person?

↳ it’s not my place but Noeul isn’t answering his phone… please check on him. I’m worried

My sunset

↳ Hyung

↳ it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have came to see you. I ruined you. Please don’t hate me. Please please. I’ll fix it. I’ll handle everything.

↳ I just need to confess. There’s no point in denying it. I’m just sorry you will have to learn about this in a public setting

↳ I’ll just tell you now. It was my ex boyfriend. But please… please don’t look at any more of the pictures. I don’t.. I don’t want you to see me like that.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Song Noeul’s shocking past; revealed by supposed ex lover!

Plus evidence of Love Countdown’s Cho (Name) and Song Noeul’s budding romance since 20XX!

Your eyes grazed over the post multiple times.

You just couldn’t be happy for a second could you? Now you dragged Noeul down with you when he was dealing with something arguably worse.

You could hear Junho and Yuki calling you from outside your door. You almost got up to open the door before Yuki kept his promise when your phone began ringing.

It was your mother.

Hehe, suddenly there’s a whole story line? This wasn’t supposed to be 16k words. If you noticed, Ye-Jun isn’t the only love interest anymore, get ready to learn more about Song Noeul in chapter 3 :) I’m finally giving threesomes a chance. Get used to porn with plot from me lol

Anyway thank @teyvat-writer for the idea for reader to punch Ye-Jun.

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @love-kha1 @star-3214 @terapung @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @tehyunnie @remdayz @ofclyde @tomoeroi @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @glittervame

Translations:

❝ 날 그대로 받아들여, 너의 두려운 ❞ — accept me as I am, your fear

너무 예뻐서, 자기. — it’s pretty, Jagi

❝ 차가운 네 눈이 나를 삼켜 ❞ — your cold eyes swallow me

❝ 불안하게 만드는 거야 왜? ❞ — why are you making me anxious?

❝ 반대로 가고 있는 것 같아요 ❞ — it seems like I’m moving backwards

Songs used: Monster by EXO, beyOnd by OnlyOneOf’s Nine, and Not Mine by Day6

[youreverydayfangirl]

he had it coming

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟa reputation series *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

face claim: sabrina carpenter (just had to because shes gorgeous)

max verstappen x singer! reader

BAD BLOOD ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where a private phone call gets leaked, no one gets the full picture and people are quick to judge

date posted: 12.10.2024

I DONT WANNA LIVE FOREVERˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where the public begins to scrutinize to an unbearable point, threats are made and a specific popstar disappears

date posted: 20.10.24

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she's gone radio silent, everyone settles down and someone begins to plot revenge

date posted: 25.10.24

READY FOR IT ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she's adjusted to a new life, she begins to let out her feelings and she meets someone new

date posted: 26.10.24

DELICATE ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she has reservations, everything's a bit fragile for her and hes persistent

date posted: 26.10.24

ENDGAME ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where new beginnings are made, a second championship is one and she allows herself to fall

date posted: 31.10.24

DRESS ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she admits her feelings, he buys her dinner and they talk about the future

date posted: 6.11.24

KING OF MY HEART ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she loudly love him, she begins a new era and he never stops loving her

date posted: 15.11.24

DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where new rumors begin, secrets start to be revealed and they never stop loving each other

date posted: 20.11.24

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she finally steps into the limelight, writes one more song about her lover and begins to move on

date posted: 23.11.24

THIS IS WHY WE CANT HAVE NICE THINGS ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one in the wake of reputation, people begin to forget and a new story is written

date posted: 25.11.24

thanK you aIMee ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

summary: the one where she reflects on the past, calls out people who hurt her and begins her life

date posted: 2.12.24

_____________________________________________

NEW SERIES!!!!

reply to this to be added to the taglist guysss

[gojoest]

“KEEP YOUR PRETTY EYES SHUT” — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, established relationship, somno, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty, my love), 1k, being sent on a mission out of town satoru agonizes over the fact he has to spend another night without you in his arms, therefore he comes back home earlier than planned — in the middle of the night, while you’re sleeping soundly, dressed only in his shirt

satoru endured exactly 46 hours away from you, almost two whole days — which to him felt like two months, or even more. the higher-ups had sent him to a mission out of town, on the pretext that, as the strongest sorcerer, he was the only one fit to deal with it. the case required his presence, the higher-ups had said, which eventually, not to his surprise, turned out to be out of true. at times like this it felt like sending him on away missions was a way for the higher-up to take revenge on him for always meddling with their decisions. those bastards had certainly found his weak spot.

when he came back, it was the middle of the night. the lights in the house were off, indicating that you were already sound asleep, which he already knew — you were dozing off during your hour-long call earlier to say good night. he was supposed to return in the morning but hearing your sweet sleepy voice on the other side of the line, telling him you love him and how you were wearing his shirt to sleep again tonight, made his stomach in knots from longing to see you, and he missed you all the more. agonizing over the fact he had to sleep another night without you in his arms, he found himself already packing to leave and go back home, to you.

and there you are at last — right before his eyes, a sleeping beauty in his bed. despite the darkness filling the room, satoru could see you clearly — lying on your back, lips slightly slick with spit, chest moving up and down, nostrils slightly flaring and matching your breathing pattern, hair messy from all the tossing and turning, and a pinkish hue on your cheeks. were you thinking of him, too?  in your sleep? is this why your cheeks were all red? did you miss him as much? — he thinks while creeping forward, careful enough not to make any sound as his feet move on the wood, not to let any of it creak.

he slowly sits on the bed, hooking two fingers underneath the edge of the blanket covering your body and pulling it back, cautiously peeling the cover back from your legs and setting it aside, to take a good look at what’s hiding beneath.

he was only supposed to tuck himself in, next to you, take you in his arms and fall asleep to your scent filling his lungs. but you, although unintentionally, were working against him. the shirt of his you were wearing had sometime along the night ridden up while you were sleeping, revealing your beautiful skin up to your belly which allowed satoru a perfect gaze between your legs.

“come on, baby. really now? so unfair…”, he huffs under his nose, his cheeks starting to burn hot, “just my shirt — and no panties?!”, lips parting slightly as he’s taking in the surprise before his eyes, your bare pussy stirring ideas in his head. both heads, actually.

“fuck”, he whispers; he’s getting hard.

he sucks two of his long digits into his mouth, getting them wet enough before putting them between your inviting legs. his free hand unbuckling his slacks to rub his palm on his growing cock, spreading the precum already gathered at the tip along the entirety of it. getting himself all wet and sticky for you before he does the same with you, too.

satoru starts from the bud of your clit, touching it very carefully, pressing on it with the tip of his finger.

“nghh…”, you sigh in your sleep, eyelids still closed but legs parting further at his touch.

“shh…”, he hums, “it’s okay, my love”, stroking down the sides of your cunt before pushing a digit in, and then slowly — another one, too, spreading your lips, exposing the openness of your hole and the wetness glistening there.

“keep sleeping, my love”, he speaks quietly. his fingers pushing themselves deeper in your cunt, playing and rubbing at its walls and earning sweet sleepy moans from the low in your throat. his mouth hangs open, goes dry at the feeling of your warmth inside, the way you welcome him and clench around his fingers, even in your sleep. “shit, baby. now i have to do it”, he groans quietly, his other hand now stroking his throbbing cock more furiously. he wants his dick to feel it, too; his hand is not doing it for him anymore, he needs to sink it deep inside of you.

“i just wanted to come home to you and cuddle you to sleep, but now…”, satoru huffs through a hearty pant, stopping his ministrations to slowly climb on top of you, between your legs, moving them apart with his hands sticky from your both of your fluids, one covered in you, and the other — in him.

“but now i want to cuddle myself in and come in you, too”

satoru couldn’t handle the temptation that is you anymore; his cock so fucking hard, he couldn’t stand it any longer. and you’re just right there — open and easy for him, eager for it even, despite not being awake. “shit, it’s all your fault, you know?”, he growls, slowly rubbing the tip against your wet entrance, up and down the length of it a few times — “messing with me like this..” — before thrusting into you, hands pressing and sinking into the plush of your thighs, whimpering at the tight clutch around him, that wonderful heat, the sweetness and wetness of your pretty pussy; his pussy.

“aghh..” you choke out and your eyes flutter open, suddenly overwhelmed and awakened by the fullness filling your cunt, “s-satoru.. nghh.. what are you d—”, you gasp in surprise, “are you fucking me?”

“shh..”, he presses your lips shut with a finger, “keep your pretty eyes shut and leave it all to me”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

 Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home.  You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

[toxicanonymity]

EVERY INCH 3.

4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader

Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2 🔪 MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge.

A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot.

WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.

You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him.  There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one. 

Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you?  You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock. 

You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while.  He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves.  He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather.  What a pretty pussy you are. Meow.  He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time. 

You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator.  Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin.  He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number.  You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything.  Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?

Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first.  It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy. 

"Mmm, good kitty."

"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too. 

"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."

"Is your cock all you think about?"

He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?" 

You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.  

"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy."  You come so fast it's pitiful. 

You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored. 

You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.

—-----you-------

A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough,  you think.  But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa.  When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens. 

He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform.  He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you.  Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"

The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him. 

"Officer. . ." 

"Call me Javi."

"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him. 

"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you. 

"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"

You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.” 

"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?" 

He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you.  As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing. 

Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood.  A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with. 

Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed. 

You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?” 

Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back.  You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.” 

You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”

“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping you safe.”

—--

You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.

An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down. 

“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what?  “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes. 

You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed.  You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around. 

—--ghostface—-

You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? 

Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits.  He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape.  no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.

—--you—--

The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him.  He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs.  You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough. 

"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw.  Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open. 

“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”

If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly. 

"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist. 

He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.  

You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him.  Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.  

–-

Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh. 

The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you.  The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance. 

always wanted to see you on the pole. 

You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car.  You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it.  As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back.  The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk. 

You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once. 

“My phone,” you tell him. 

He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him.  You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself.  You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard. 

“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him.  You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit.  Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.” 

He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around. 

“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”

This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride. 

You put your knees on the seat on either side of him.  You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top.  The sheer arousal pisses you off.  He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything.  You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever. 

He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity. 

Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him.  "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter.  You keep degrading him as you fuck him.  "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building.  "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.

When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.

Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number. 

how's the 🍆

A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold. 

"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him. 

"Oh don't stop now, kitty. " 

He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?" 

"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.

You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me,"  then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body. 

"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"

When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back. 

Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down.  The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out. 

"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides. 

"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again. 

"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"  

No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.

"Oh, c'mon, kitty." 

"No," you whimper.

Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds." 

Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight,"  and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums.  You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to. 

"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run.  As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat. 

The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him.  Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants.  He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap.  You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed. 

Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away. 

Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.  

"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you.  He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin.  “Now sit on daddy’s cock.” 

He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had. 

"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him.   "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too.  This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you.  He's still not moving, and neither are you.  Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down . 

Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock."  He feels so fucking good.  Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?"  You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."  

The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest. 

"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'"  You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty." 

You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah."  The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core. 

"Fuck," you whisper. 

He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock. 

"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun.  He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.”  You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again. 

"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him.  Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh." 

As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop. 

He pats your lower belly.  “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."

—

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Next: EVERY INCH 4

May 2024 update - I have 3 more parts outlined.

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THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want more parts, reblogs and comments make all the difference.

Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread lol.

if you liked this smut, you could check out raider Joel meanwhile.

Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

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Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

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The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.